Physical method. As Choi Gyodo mulled over this term, a funny post he once saw online popped into his head. It was about a person who tried to hypnotize someone into tasting an apple flavor from an onion. The experimenter forced the subject to eat raw onions until they finally said it tasted like an apple.

A thought suddenly crossed Choi Gyodo’s mind—what if he became the subject of that “apple-flavored onion” hypnosis experiment? At that moment, he finally understood Cha Ui-jae’s smile completely.

‘I’ll give you physical therapy until you say you remember nothing.’

So, Gyodo answered confidently, like a quiz show panelist certain they have the right answer.

"Where am I?"

In response, Ui-jae nodded with a satisfied expression. It was the perfect answer.

After peacefully resolving the situation without further bloodshed, Cha Ui-jae dragged the unconscious kidnappers and lined them up in a row. He singled out two: the one who had splashed seawater on his face and the mustached one who had fainted from a nosebleed.

Ui-jae planned to wake the toughest and most knowledgeable one of the group to rough him up a bit—get some information and repay the favor. Two birds with one stone. He even thought about giving him some seawater to drink for extra measure.

From a corner, Gyodo, who was observing the part-timer (Ui-jae) pick his sacrificial lamb, politely raised his hand like a student asking a question during a professor’s lecture.

"Excuse me, part-timer. I don't know where I am or what’s happened, but could I maybe try opening a door?"

"...A door?"

Ui-jae glanced at Gyodo. The latter clasped his hands together and forced a mechanical smile.

"My ability is opening doors. I can create a portal to any place people want to go, as long as I have the street address. Anywhere."

‘...That would be useful for deliveries,’ Ui-jae thought. His eyes gleamed, like a professor who had just found a promising grad student. His first thought was that such a talent would be perfect for his part-time job at the restaurant. But he quickly dismissed the business idea from his mind. A power that good was bound to come with a serious penalty.

Especially since, due to some quirk of the system, teleportation skills usually had major drawbacks. Grabbing the sturdiest-looking kidnapper by the collar, Ui-jae lifted him and asked Gyodo:

“Does your ability come with a penalty?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, there is one.”

For some reason, Gyodo’s eyes were trembling slightly. Ui-jae nodded, urging him to continue.

“It’s fine. Just tell me, so I can decide if I should ask you to open the door.”

“Well, um. So, here’s the thing…”

“Yes.”

As Ui-jae seated the sturdy kidnapper on the metal chair he had been tied to earlier, mentally calculating how hard he should punch him to wake him up, Gyodo suddenly blurted out in a panic:

"I pass out!"

"Sorry?"

Ui-jae had been about to punch the kidnapper in the face to wake him, but Gyodo quickly explained his ability’s penalty as if he were rapping.

“If I know the street address or coordinates on a map, I can open a door to that location, but I have to set the place I’m currently at as the central axis. The farther the distance between the central axis and the destination, the longer I pass out!”

“Can multiple people pass through the door at once?”

“Huh? Oh, yes. As long as the door stays open.”

“How long does it stay open?”

“Until I pass out.”

Ui-jae was lost in thought. The ability to teleport multiple people at once was rare, and the penalty didn’t seem too severe.

‘Might as well test it out.’

He took out his phone to check the address of their current location. But…

His precious phone’s screen was shattered!

‘Damn it.’

Ui-jae quickly unlocked it to assess the damage. However, the shattered screen only displayed a kaleidoscope of colors rather than the original display. While his body was S-rank, his phone, sadly, was not—evidently unable to withstand the beating.

With a frustrated voice, Ui-jae called out, "Hi, Nexby. What’s the current street address?"

—Searching for street address based on GPS data.

Luckily, Nexby still responded, despite the cracked screen. After a moment, it dutifully relayed the address. Ui-jae stared at the kaleidoscope display and closed his eyes.

‘Damn it. My contract has months left.’

He muttered darkly, “So, based on the address I just gave you... how long would you pass out if we opened a door from Incheon to Seoul?”

Gyodo immediately responded, “A day and a half? Maybe two days if it’s a long one.”

Though Incheon to Seoul wasn’t too far, the penalty still seemed quite strong. Ui-jae, driven by pure curiosity, asked another question:

“Then what about opening a door to Washington, D.C.?”

Gyodo’s eyes grew moist, his reaction unexpectedly emotional. It was clear—he had experienced this before. Gyodo wiped his eyes with his sleeve and answered politely.

“I haven’t opened one to Washington, but once, when the guild master had an emergency, I opened one to Toronto, Canada…”

“And?”

“When I woke up, the seasons had changed.”

“….”

As impressive as the ability was, the penalty was equally harsh. Ui-jae tried checking the time on his shattered phone, failed, and then asked Nexby for the time. It was 2:20 AM. The trip from Incheon Port to his restaurant would take about two hours by taxi. Adding in the time it would take to call one, it was cutting it close to get the restaurant ready for business. Ui-jae frowned and scratched his temple before turning to Gyodo.

“I’m really sorry… but could you open a door for us?”

“Oh, sure! Of course!”

“If you pass out, I’ll take you to the hospital, so don’t worry.”

“Oh, no need to worry about that.”

The Romantic Opener placed his index and middle fingers on his temples and squeezed his eyes shut, as if concentrating. He extended his hands forward and shouted with vigor:

“Open, Anywhere Door!”

The skill’s name sounded like it would infringe on two copyrights at once. It was also embarrassingly childish. But the effect was incredible. In the middle of the container, surrounded by groaning thugs, a large wooden door appeared.

"Whoa."

Ui-jae was genuinely impressed. He started tying the unconscious thugs’ wrists together with a cable tie, like stringing fish on a line. He didn’t want to carry them one by one, so he planned to drag them all out at once. After finishing, he opened the bag the thugs had brought, checking the contents.

The bag was stuffed with tightly packed white powder. After shoving it all into his inventory, he slung one of the bags over his shoulder.

‘That should be everything.’

Satisfied with his preparations, Ui-jae gestured to Gyodo, signaling him to open the door.

Romantic Opener Choi Gyodo, however, had already turned pale, his face drained of color since the moment the door had appeared. With legs trembling like someone about to fall into hell, he approached the door and opened it.

And what appeared beyond the door was...

"..."

"..."

Lee Sa-young.

‘...Why?’

Why the hell are you here? Seated at a desk in a spacious office, Sa-young was fiddling with a phone. Oddly, she wasn’t wearing her usual gas mask but had glasses on instead. The nameplate on the desk sparkled beautifully inlaid with mother-of-pearl.

"Guild Master of Pado Guild, Lee Sa-young."

Judging by the look of the place, it seemed to be the Pado Guild master’s office. Ui-jae felt the sudden urge to close the door and take a taxi, using the guild’s corporate card. With an inflated fare, if possible.

‘I asked you to open a door, and you open the guild master’s office...’

At that moment, Sa-young’s cold eyes met his.

‘Shit.’

She slowly took off her glasses. Ui-jae turned to glare at Gyodo. He needed an explanation for this absurd situation. However, Gyodo, his trembling hand held out like a phone in vibration mode, gave a shaky thumbs-up. His smile was faint, as if he were at death’s door but still proud of having completed his task.

‘So that’s why he said he didn’t need a hospital...’

Gyodo had never intended to open the door to the place Ui-jae wanted. His only goal was to deliver Ui-jae straight to Lee Sa-young.

Ui-jae felt a surge of betrayal. No wonder Gyodo hadn’t asked for a destination! By now, Sa-young had gracefully risen from her seat and was standing right in front of him. The two faced each other, with only the door between them. Sa-young’s dull purple eyes slowly scanned Ui-jae, from his toes, up his legs, waist, neck, and finally to his head. She crossed her arms and smirked.

“So, you were busy saying something about keeping people in place... I wondered what crazy stunt you were pulling.”

“...”

“You’ve ended up looking like a mess, haven’t you, hyung?”

TL/N:  "Hyung" (형) is a Korean word used by a man to refer to an older brother or an older close male friend. It emphasizes respect for the elder and belonging to a more informal, friendly relationship.