Processing facilities for contaminated byproducts existed only in large guilds. Small and mid-sized guilds had no choice but to pay steep fees to outsource the work. If the byproducts were deemed worthless, they sometimes fetched no price at all.
For Taeyang Guild, disposal was handled at Hyunsan Hospital’s research lab, temporarily borrowed until their own processing plant was completed. The guild drove directly to the lab, where—surprisingly—Lee Hyunmyung was already waiting.
“Welcome. I’m Lee Hyunmyung, director of Hyunsan Hospital.”
The rookies blinked, startled that the hospital director herself had come to greet them. They bowed deeply. When Yohan met her warm, affectionate gaze, he hurried to bend even lower.
“You’ve all worked hard in dangerous places. As Taeyang Guild members, your immediate families may receive free checkups here at the hospital. Come anytime.”
“Thank you, Director!”
Pride in belonging to Taeyang swelled. The Big Sheep rookies became bowing dolls, polite and formal. But they noticed immediately that her kindness toward Yohan was especially tender. Another piece of proof, in their minds, that he was indeed a returnee from the Abyss. Yoon Seungryong and Joo Hoyoung also thanked her warmly.
“Thank you for coming out here, sister.”
“It’s nothing. I was at the lab anyway. Now I’ve seen your faces, that’s enough. Enjoy the tour. I would guide you myself, but I must go.”
Clearly busy, she departed reluctantly, as if she had come only to see Yohan’s face. As he silently gave thanks, Yoon Seungryong explained to the rookies:
“Hyunsan Hospital is partnered with Taeyang. If you get sick or injured, treatment here will be cheap.”
The days when health insurance made treatment affordable were long gone. Medicine prices had skyrocketed. Even in Korea, better off than abroad, people dreaded going to the hospital for something as simple as a cold. So the rookies were thrilled; injury and medical bills were the greatest burden for rift explorers. Many endured pain without treatment, relying only on regeneration.
The lab was large, and the contaminated byproduct processing room was isolated behind three separate barriers. It had to be—after all, this was where contamination was handled.
“Hello, I’m Kim Jinhyeok, soon to head Taeyang Guild’s byproduct processing facility. What an honor to see some familiar faces again!”
A man greeted them warmly. Despite his title of director, he looked young. He was a supporter-type Awakener with detection ability. Though only mid-tier, he had used his skill endlessly on Awakeners and objects, honing his instincts until he rivaled high-tiers in his specialty.
Most detectors excelled at scanning wide areas and tracking monsters. Kim Jinhyeok, however, was outstanding at sensing and evaluating people and objects. He prided himself that, short of high-tier, none could match him in this field.
He had worked at Sunrise Guild’s lab, but when Taeyang offered a position, he accepted without hesitation. The pay and bonuses were better, and the name Lee Hyunmook carried tremendous weight. Sunrise must be suffering now—many staff had left for Taeyang, and even their hospital partnership had been cut. Not his concern.
Chuckling, he looked over the rookies, using his ability.
‘Let’s see—low-tier dealer, mid-tier tank. Oh, this one will soon reach mid-tier, probably fire element? Low-tier supporter, and...’
As he added support buffs to refine his scan, his eyes went wide. He stopped on Yohan, who was glancing around curiously.
‘...What is this?’
Neither dealer, tank, nor supporter. The signature was unmistakably high-tier healer. His eyes shook.
Healer-class Awakeners were extremely rare. Aside from Purifiers, there was only the Healer who boosted regeneration. That meant there were only two high-tier healer-types in existence.
‘One is the high-tier Healer active in Europe. The other...’
The other was the newly emerged high-tier Purifier, Park Seungmin. Now a third? Impossible. Had Taeyang secretly recruited another high-tier? But if so, how could it be so quiet?
Or... could it be? Was this the reason Hyunmook and the others had returned safely from the Abyss? If true—
Unconsciously, he glanced at Yoon Seungryong and Joo Hoyoung. His breath caught. The rookies looked puzzled at the lab director’s odd behavior. Pale, sweating, Kim Jinhyeok forced a laugh. Yoon Seungryong smiled awkwardly, moving his lips without sound:
‘We tried to hide it, but with Lee Chanha missing, it shows.’
“......!”
Beside him, Joo Hoyoung pressed a finger to his lips. Shhh. Quick-witted, Kim Jinhyeok turned away. I saw nothing. Absolutely nothing.
“W-well, the contaminated byproduct process is almost done, so... l-let’s go take a look.”
He stumbled over his words, ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ even staggered a little. He looked fine at a glance, but Yohan wondered if he was contaminated. They passed through a corridor lined with gas masks, safety goggles, and dust masks.
“Civilians would need full protective suits, but for Awakeners, goggles and dust masks will suffice.”
Kim Jinhyeok explained politely, avoiding eye contact with Yoon Seungryong and Joo Hoyoung, and forcing himself not to stare at Yohan. His mind was a storm, but habit carried his body. After confirming everyone wore protection, he pressed a button, and one barrier rose with a whir.
“Ugh...”
Even through masks, a foul stench hit. The chamber was all metal. At its center, a huge cauldron-like structure sank into the floor. Some rookies gagged as they peered in.
“Urgh! What the hell is that...?”
“Disgusting...!”
“Not a pleasant sight, is it?”
Kim Jinhyeok smiled thinly. Inside the cauldron lay the byproducts collected from their first expedition. A field team had cut out usable pieces and delivered them here. Now came contamination removal—by dumping in hundreds, thousands of mealworms.
It was based on contamination’s nature: it clung more easily to living things than to the dead.
In the past, rats or rabbits were used, but accusations of animal cruelty, the risk of breeding dangerous monsters, and waste of food sources led to replacing them with crawling insects like mealworms. Flying insects were forbidden; too hard to control.
As the rookies turned pale, he explained:
“Mealworms are rotated every twelve hours. Any longer, and even they mutate too far. Afterward, they are all killed and disposed of in the rift zone. Rarely, some metamorphose too quickly, but then we superheat the chamber to kill everything. Safe.”
The rookies looked sick, so he tried a joke.
“Compared to animals, these brown mealworms are safe. At worst they’ll nibble a bit of flesh—fatal cases are rare, ha ha!”
No one laughed.
Embarrassed, he turned back to the writhing swarm. Few contaminated remained—it was nearly clean. Watching with bright eyes, Yoon Seungryong commented:
“If things like this got out, it would be a real disaster.”
“Oh, absolutely. A nightmare for any guild. We must always be careful not to let them escape.”
Nodding quickly, he turned to the nauseated rookies.
“Well then... the chamber will be superheated next. Let’s step out.”
As he spoke, a flicker of red light flashed in Yoon Seungryong’s eyes. The number of contaminated mealworms abruptly dropped, but Kim Jinhyeok didn’t notice. He only waited politely for everyone to leave.
