Chapter 61
“He’s Got Some Nerve (3)”
5.
First things first—this American, Ryan Beckett, was apparently Deputy Director Choi Seong-hoon’s best friend.
He said they met during a training program in the U.S.
His exact position: Team Leader of the U.S. Bureau of Supernatural Affairs, Northeast Asia Division 1.
According to Ryan Beckett’s own cheerful explanation, the U.S. Bureau of Supernatural Affairs is essentially America’s version of Korea’s Ability Management Bureau—handling all player-related affairs.
“Ha-ha! Sometimes I play deliveryman like this. Call it my side hobby? Normally, I’m stationed in Japan, but I came here personally just to meet our Mr. Yoo.”
“Your Korean is really good.”
“Chinese, Japanese, Korean, English, French—seven languages in total. If you ever go traveling, call me! I’ll be your guide.”
“Why would an American Bureau agent guide a Korean player?”
“Whoa, easy there, Seong-hoon. Is that how you show affection after so long? Don’t worry, I’m always your best friend.”
One thing was clear: this guy was funny.
Lately, only lunatics like this seemed to show up around me, so I’d half-given up on it.
Maybe I was born on the Planet of Crazies.
While listening to Ryan Beckett’s nonsense, I gently stroked my first Gold Button—its golden glow glimmering beautifully, engraved with my channel name.
“Is this real gold? I thought they just gold-plate these things.”
“Excellent observation, Mr. Yoo! This one is solid gold, 100%. A symbol of America’s sincerity toward you.”
“That’s… very sincere.”
“Of course! The U.S. and Korea are blood allies, aren’t we?”
“Long live the alliance.”
A solid-gold Gold Button.
Now that was fancy.
I’d have to display it in my living room later.
Deputy Director Choi seemed a bit deflated watching my satisfied grin. He finally said to Ryan Beckett, his tone subdued:
“So you came here just to contact Player Yoo Seong-woo?”
Ryan folded his glasses and shrugged lightly.
“Can’t deny it. I was planning to reach out to him during my Korea trip anyway. Since we’re all here, might as well talk now, right?”
“You brought a solid gold plaque as a gift. Feel free. I almost want to do a reaction video.”
“I love that enthusiasm! Ah, by the way, I’m a subscriber to your M-Tube channel—Meteor! Great name, don’t you think?”
“Oh, so this is a fan meeting? Just making sure—this Gold Button is really from M-Tube, right?”
“Naturally! There’s even a handwritten letter from MetaBet’s CEO inside. You can skim it or toss it, your choice.”
Inseop said he applied for his Gold Button too.
I’d have to flex on him later.
Still, Ryan’s social skills were impressive—he carried the whole room’s mood effortlessly. I’d only known him for a few minutes, but he already felt oddly likable.
He sipped his water dramatically, then brushed back his blond hair, his blue eyes gleaming sharply.
“Mr. Yoo. I heard you clashed with China’s National Security Bureau. To be honest, I came partly to confirm that. Officially, it says Kim Do-yoon handled it.”
“That part’s true.”
When I nodded, Ryan’s eyes narrowed slightly. He spoke softly, smiling.
“Our intel says you handled it alone.”
I glanced at Deputy Choi, who sighed and shook his head.
If not him, then… Did Do-yoon talk?
Didn’t seem like the type.
“Let’s just say the U.S. has the best intelligence network in the world. Our source is trustworthy.”
“You’ve planted someone inside?”
“Trade secret, I’m afraid.”
He threw a sidelong glance at Choi, then smiled more broadly at me.
“Would you consider naturalizing as an American citizen? We’d treat you like royalty.”
“Ryan! What the hell are you doing?”
“Just asking a personal question. Relax, Seong-hoon.”
Yeah, definitely a lunatic.
Naturalize as an American?
I didn’t even need to think about it to know they’d pamper me.
If they’d confirmed I easily took down 5th- and 6th-floor Chinese players, they’d already calculated my value.
Hence the aggressive offer.
It wasn’t a bad deal, but… I wasn’t really tempted.
I thought about consulting my family, but my brother and sister would just tell me to do whatever I wanted.
No need to delay the answer, then.
“I appreciate the offer.”
“Hmm?”
“But I just like Korea better.”
My whole streaming career was based here, and for unlocking “Attention Seeker,” staying local would be smarter anyway.
Changing citizenship would even alter my Abyss Gate—what a hassle.
“Still, Mr. Beckett, that was a bit rude of you.”
“Rude? How so?”
“Deputy Director Choi’s taken good care of me, and you’re asking me to switch citizenship right in front of him. Don’t you think that’s disrespectful?”
“According to the UN Player Act, nationality is a personal choice, but… yes, you’re right. It was impolite.”
Suddenly, Ryan stood up and bowed to Choi.
“Seong-hoon, I apologize. I crossed a line.”
“Then why cross it in the first place, you nutcase?”
“At least I confirmed he won’t defect. Congrats. The rumors that he smashed a bunch of foreign guild recruiters’ heads? True. Guess Korea’s going for the higher floors now, huh?”
“Were you testing me just now?”
“I like patriots, Mr. Yoo.”
Ryan met my eyes and smiled meaningfully.
“The naturalization offer did have a bit of sincerity behind it, but… well, a shame. The United States will, of course, continue to stand by Korea as a strong ally—”
“Just words?”
“What?”
“You mess up, then say ‘let’s be friends’? Not convincing. Show some sincerity.”
I winked at Deputy Choi.
Opportunities like this didn’t come often.
Might as well milk it.
“How about we talk about that sincerity, huh?”
“Oh, I didn’t see this coming.”
“Alliances are about helping each other, right? I like America too.”
No way I was letting such an easy target walk.
Ryan chuckled, rubbing his palms together just like I was.
“You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Yoo.”
“That’s capitalism.”
“Fine. I’ll pay for my rudeness. What do you want?”
“Deputy Choi?”
“Yes?”
“I’ll leave the details to you. I’m curious to see how important I am to America.”
Go get ‘em, Deputy Director!
6.
One hour after Yoo Seong-woo left the Ability Management Bureau.
Deputy Choi and Ryan Beckett had finally wrapped up their “negotiations.”
“So, an information-sharing pact on the Abyss?”
“Feels like we’re getting the short end, but fine. Our Secretary already approved it. Said to get close to Player Yoo anyway. I’d say this trip’s a success.”
“You were serious about that citizenship offer, weren’t you?”
“Of course. We’d have offered him anything to bring him over.”
Ryan loosened his tie and sighed deeply.
“We ran our own background check, but there’s nothing—no record for seven years.”
The U.S. intel network was unmatched.
If even they couldn’t find any trace, that meant something was off.
“It’s like he vanished into another world.”
“Another world?”
“Oh, haven’t we shared that info yet? You’ll learn soon anyway—the Abyss contains evidence of other dimensions.”
Choi immediately recalled his earlier conversation with Professor Yoo Young-pil from Korea University.
He’d said the same thing—other dimensions might exist.
Science couldn’t explain it, but then, nothing about the Abyss followed scientific rules.
“Coincidentally, Yoo Seong-woo disappeared right before the Abyss first appeared. There’s got to be a link. Heard anything, Seong-hoon?”
“Not yet.”
“Well, here’s how we see it.”
Ryan wiped his glasses with a breath and put them back on.
“If he joined the U.S., we’d classify him as Expeditionary Tier.”
“…What?”
“Expeditionary. Eighth-floor level.”
The Expeditionary Tier—
the world’s top players who explored uncharted Abyss floors.
The U.S. Expeditionary Team was the best of the best—a squad of monsters whose names alone carried weight.
“You probably suspected it already.”
“I did, but still…”
“China’s probably reached the same conclusion. So be careful.”
Ryan stood, stuffed his tie into his pocket, and scratched his head.
“You’re protecting Yoo Seong-woo and his family, right? We’ll help.”
“Why would the U.S. do that?”
“We want to stay on his good side. The alliance, remember? We’ll be seeing a lot more of each other—I’m getting posted here soon as branch chief. So, drink tonight? Been craving soju.”
“You’re paying.”
“Of course. Oh, and I almost forgot—there’s one more thing for Player Yoo.”
He pulled out his phone and played a video.
“This was filmed in an Abyss eighth-floor dungeon. Weirdly enough, it seems connected to him. Take a look.”
Choi watched silently.
The footage showed a dim underground cavern.
At first, it was pitch-black—but then, at the center, a small statue began to glow.
Five seconds later, a human-shaped figure appeared beside it—then the light dimmed.
—“Holy crap.”
—“Battle positions!”
A woman with red hair, wearing a white robe and holding a long staff set with a purple gem, had materialized out of nowhere.
The U.S. Expeditionary players tensed instantly.
But instead of attacking, she spoke—in Korean.
—“Hello, everyone. Do you happen to know someone named Yoo Seong-woo?”
Korean. Definitely Korean.
The team froze, confused, while the woman tapped her head lightly with her staff.
—“Well, the teleport worked this time, but the coordinates are still random. Still, I met people, so that’s progress. Let’s jot that down. Hey, you guys—if you know Yoo Seong-woo, tell him I said hi! Oh, wait, is that thing a camera? Perfect.”
She waved brightly at the hovering drone.
—“Captain! I’m doing great! I’ll find you soon! Wait for me—I’ll come to you!”
And with that, the Archmage of Madness, Bellua, vanished from the screen.
