Suho’s First Day at Work

As expected, reporters were swarming the entrance on Suho’s first day.

Click! Click!

The flashes of cameras went off relentlessly.

And along with them:

• “Sword God!”
• “Hunter Ahn Suho!”
• “You’re amazing!”
• “You’re so handsome!”

The entrance to Daehyeonhyup was packed, not only with reporters but also with Suho’s fan club, the Suho Priests, who had gathered to catch a glimpse of his first day.

Suho recalled Jo Jin-hwi’s advice from the previous day.

“I noticed you tend to use skills or items to mask your presence when you’re out and about, but tomorrow, make sure to show your face on the way in.”

“Why?”

“Because people are coming specifically to see you. If you don’t show up, they’ll be pretty disappointed. Sure, something like this won’t turn diehard fans against you, but it wouldn’t hurt to be cautious, especially since some folks are already using you for their own PR stunts.”

It made sense.

This was the kind of advice only someone like Jo Jin-hwi could give.

“Being too enigmatic isn’t always a good thing.”

Even in his previous life, Suho hadn’t deliberately cultivated a rough or mysterious image. He simply let things flow naturally—if someone requested an interview, he gave one; if there was a broadcast opportunity, he took it.

As a result, unlike other star players, he had no major controversies. People just assumed, “He’s only doing this because someone higher up told him to.”

Once inside Daehyeonhyup, Suho witnessed an amusing sight:

Association President Jang Gyeong-hwan and Vice President Park Gyu-min were there to greet him personally.

“Ah, our dear Hunter Ahn!”

The two greeted him warmly.

It was obvious why—they were playing to the cameras trailing behind Suho.

Of course. Politicians can’t resist putting on a show in front of cameras.

Suho returned the courtesy with a polite bow.

“Good morning, President Jang.”

“Hoho, good morning! Hunter Ahn, of course I had to be here to welcome you on your first day. Shall we?”

Didn’t ask, but sure…

Jang Gyeong-hwan eagerly emphasized his personal presence as if to ensure the reporters captured every angle of his involvement. The flashes went off again in rapid succession.

Snap! Snap! Snap!

Even as they entered the elevator, Jang Gyeong-hwan stuck close to Suho, his smile unwavering until the elevator doors closed completely.

Once they were out of public view, Jang’s demeanor shifted. He stepped back slightly, adjusted his voice, and asked:

“So, did you have a chance to unwind?”

Dropping formalities already, huh?

Moments ago, he’d been all polite for the cameras, but now he was speaking casually.

Not that Suho minded—after all, Jang Gyeong-hwan was now his top boss.

“Yes, thanks to you, I was able to spend time with good people and relax.”

“Hoho, that’s great to hear. By the way, has anyone briefed you on your upcoming schedule?”

“Not yet.”

“Ah, well, the Vice President will go over everything with you. Make sure to give it your best, and if you run into any issues, come to me anytime.”

“Yes, sir.”

The elevator soon stopped, and Suho got off on the 5th floor with Vice President Park Gyu-min.

President Jang continued up to the top floor, where his office was located. Meanwhile, Park Gyu-min led Suho into a conference room on the 5th floor.

Inside, Suho found two unexpected faces: Pi Seong-yeol and Jeong Cheol-min.

As Park Gyu-min entered, the two men stood up from their seats. Park patted Suho on the shoulder and said with a smile, “These two will guide you through the details. Good luck today!”

Of course. Should’ve known.

It made sense that Park Gyu-min wouldn’t personally handle this.

After Park left, Pi Seong-yeol grinned and said, “Ah, our junior has finally arrived.”

“Hello. It’s been a while.”

“Since the thank-you award ceremony, right? Well, sit down first. Team Leader Jeong, can you grab some drinks?”

“Yes, sir.”

At Pi’s request, Jeong Cheol-min hurried to prepare beverages.

I knew Park Gyu-min would dump this on someone else, but I didn’t expect it to be Pi Seong-yeol and Jeong Cheol-min.

The pairing was unusual. Pi had a clear reason—he was here to recruit Suho into the Special Forces. But Jeong Cheol-min?

Their departments are completely different. Why is he here?

Though curious, Suho decided to set aside his questions for now.

Pi Seong-yeol spoke again.

“Junior.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Hoho, already calling me ‘sir’? No need for that between us. Once a senior and junior, always a senior and junior. Just call me ‘senior’ in casual settings. Save the formalities for official occasions.”

Hearing that, Suho couldn’t help but chuckle internally.

This guy’s got a thing for titles.

Pi Seong-yeol was notoriously picky about how people addressed him.

Looks like he’s taken a liking to me.

And why wouldn’t he?

Suho wasn’t just any skilled hunter; he was one of the rare talents who had single-handedly sealed multiple gates.

He responded, “Yes, senior.”

“Good. Now, here’s a question for you, junior. What do you think your responsibilities at the company will be now?”

In the Association, people didn’t call it an association—they referred to it as "the company."

The reason? No one knew. It was just how everyone referred to it.

Suho replied, “Since I’ve just joined, I understand that I’ll need to complete a probationary period first.”

“Correct. Normally, Grade 5 officers go through a four-month managerial training program at the Talent Development Center, followed by several months at a local government office as probationary administrators. This is the same for anyone who’s promoted from Grade 6 to Grade 5.

“But that’s for ordinary civil servants. We’re part of the Association, dealing with awakened-related tasks, so our system is a bit different.”

“Yes, that makes sense,” Suho agreed.

“In our case, instead of the Talent Development Center, we have our own in-house training program. It involves rotating through all departments for about two to three months each.”

As Jeong Cheol-min brought over drinks, Pi Seong-yeol picked one up and added, “But don’t worry too much. I’ll make sure to handle the promises we made earlier. However, you still need to go through the proper procedures. After all, you’re quite the public figure now.”

In other words, Suho had to follow formal processes because there were too many eyes on him.

This wasn’t unexpected for Suho. After all, in his past life, he had also gone through the Grade 5 ranks.

With the explanation over, Pi Seong-yeol introduced Jeong Cheol-min properly.

“By the way, you’re already acquainted, right? I specifically assigned Team Leader Jeong as your overall manager. Sure, every department has its own evaluation officer, but you need someone to handle your comprehensive evaluations and questions. So rely on him from now on.”

Suho bowed politely. “I look forward to working with you.”

“Same here,” Jeong replied.

“Well, now that I’ve seen our junior’s face, I think my job here is done. Take good care of him, Team Leader Jeong.”

With that, Pi Seong-yeol stood up to leave.

It made sense—there was no real reason for someone of Pi Seong-yeol’s rank to come all the way here.

But Suho knew the real reason:

“He’s here to send a silent message that the Gate Division shouldn’t even think about taking Jeong Cheol-min. He wants to emphasize the bond between himself and Jeong.”

Not that Pi needed to bother with such warnings—his position as head of the Special Division was powerful enough to make such things unnecessary. Still, this kind of petty maneuvering was typical of Pi Seong-yeol.

“Such a prickly personality.”

After Pi left, Jeong finally relaxed and smiled awkwardly.

“It’s been a while.”

“Yes, it has. How have you been?”

“Haha, same as usual. I never expected to be assigned as your overall manager.”

“Neither did I, but I think it’s for the best. I look forward to working with you.”

“Oh, please, I should be the one saying that. Let me explain the training process.”

Jeong pulled a set of printed materials from his bag and handed them to Suho.

“Do you know which departments are in Daehyeonhyup?”

“Yes. There are five in total: the Special Division, Management Division, Awakening Division, Gate Division, and Resource Division.”

“Do you know what they do?”

“Yes. The Management Division handles HR, public relations, and general support. The Awakening Division manages human resources, both awakened and non-awakened. The Gate Division handles gate-related tasks, while the Resource Division manages items and skill books.

“And the Special Division oversees everything else, such as apprehending and judging player-criminals or handling unique tasks other divisions can’t.”

Jeong smiled, clearly impressed. “You’ve done your homework. As Director Pi mentioned, you’ll rotate through all five departments during your training. By the way, even though you’ve joined as a special Grade 5 recruit, you’re still officially on probation, so be careful how you speak to others.”

Suho nodded as if hearing it for the first time. “Understood. Which department will I start with?”

“You’ll begin with the Awakening Division. Based on the schedule, it makes the most sense to start there. As Director Pi mentioned, each department has an evaluation officer who will assess you. You’ll need to pass all their assignments and tests to complete your training. Let’s head to the Awakening Division now.”

The two left their seats and headed to the Awakening Division on the second floor.

“The Awakening Division…”

It had been a while since Suho had dealt with them.

Although Suho had never worked in the Awakening Division, he was familiar with its key figures and major incidents.

“If I’m right, that person should be here now.”

Stepping into the Awakening Division and entering the department head’s office, they were greeted by the head himself: Lee Wan-ik.

“Welcome. I’m Lee Wan-ik,” he said, standing to greet them.

Lee Wan-ik, the head of the Awakening Division, was part of Association President Jang Gyeong-hwan’s inner circle. Like Jang, he was a non-awakened civilian.

Suho recognized him immediately.

“I only met him briefly before his retirement, but he looks exactly the same.”

His slicked-back hair, streaked with black and white, and a mustache that could make him look like either a bureaucrat or a dictator, left a strong impression.

Suho hadn’t interacted with Lee Wan-ik much in his past life—after all, Lee retired a few years later to work elsewhere.

But Suho knew him better than most.

“After his retirement, it came to light that he was secretly involved in human trafficking while working at the Association. Everyone knew about it once it was exposed.”

Of course, that scandal never reached the public. The case was buried because of its potential to threaten Jang Gyeong-hwan’s position.

“In short, Jang covered it up.”

But this time, things would be different.

Much had changed from the past.

Looking at Lee Wan-ik, Suho’s lips curled into a faint smile.