‘There has never been a time when I was the protagonist.’
Those words from Lee Shin pierced Kim Jong-pil’s heart.
It was absurd—telling a legendary figure who once led this country to the world summit that he had never been the protagonist. And yet, Kim Jong-pil, who should have been angry, kept his mouth shut in silence.
Because it wasn’t wrong.
It was a truth he had tried to deny, a word he had been chewing on more and more lately—regret. The word “protagonist.”
“Thinking about it, sir, you’ve always stood beside absolute monsters at the very top throughout your entire Hunter career.”
The beginning of legend: the USA World Raid.
In the international tournament held every four years, Korea once again rose to the top. In that moment, the world gave titles to the heroes of victory.
War King, Man King, and Mountain King.
The beginning of the Three Kings.
“You reached the top through the legend of the Three Kings, but the one who received the most attention was Fist King, Ma Jang-dong.”
Later, when they founded <Kirin Guild> and rose to become not just Korea’s best but champions of the Guild War Asia and Champions League…
“When you wrote yet another world-class legend, you had Man King, Han Jeong-do by your side.”
Haters always tore down Mountain King from this point.
“Mountain King is lucky. He just rode the bus. He hasn’t proven anything. Even the command that supposedly changed raid paradigms is all an illusion.”
“…Haa.”
Kim Jong-jong quietly lifted his soju glass.
It wasn’t pleasant hearing his entire career summarized so bluntly.
And yet he didn’t get angry—because even he wasn’t fully confident anymore.
Was I really just lucky? Did I just ride on others? Was my command really meaningless?
At first, he dismissed it with curses. Then he ignored it. But now… his answer was “I don’t know.”
So he was curious what answer this young man would give.
And Lee Shin did not disappoint.
“Fuck that.”
“Pffft!”
Cough! Cough!
The people behind them nearly spat out their drinks.
Even Kim Jong-pil’s eyes widened.
What… what did he just say?
“Fist King Ma Jang-dong. The strongest man among apes, the man called the pinnacle of physical combat. The senior’s former comrade.”
To Lee Shin—
“He’s just a gorilla. A slightly stronger, slightly better fighting beast.”
Yes, he had talent. An unmatched body gifted by chance.
He had instincts worthy of the title Fist King.
But that was all.
“No intelligence, poor judgment, terrible personality, zero teamwork. All he does is charge. Even in his last match this year, he couldn’t control himself. A gorilla wouldn’t even play that badly.”
“Are you seriously evaluating Jang-dong?”
“You know it better than I do, sir. Don’t you agree?”
Yes. That was Ma Jang-dong.
A man with overwhelming physical ability and combat instinct… but closer to a beast than a human.
“But that gorilla is still decent. The next one is worse.”
“Han Jeong-do.”
Evenly distributed stats. No weaknesses. Able to function from frontline tank to backline support.
Truly “the King of All Roles.”
A good character, certainly.
But good is not the same as the best.
“Can this guy change the game? No. I’d bet my wrist on it.”
Because Man King is a tool. A passive tool that can’t function alone.
“So let’s rewind the story.”
Mountain King was just lucky?
“The one who was lucky was the gorilla and that useless tool bastard. Without you, sir, they would’ve been nothing.”
Was Mountain King’s command an illusion?
“You made the gorilla look like the strongest in the world. You made that tool look like an SSS-tier existence. Isn’t that proof enough? Your command is the only real thing.”
Then why was Mountain King never the protagonist?
“What else? He was too busy cleaning up after those two idiots to be the protagonist.”
That’s why Lee Shin asked—
“Don’t you feel wronged? You dragged those half-wits to the top, and they took all the glory. I’d lose sleep over it.”
The man who barely looks 18 continues, smiling like a madman.
Kim Jong-jong could only stare blankly.
“…Ha.”
If this were just flattery, he wouldn’t be shaken. But he could tell—this boy meant every word.
In his eyes, Ma Jang-dong was truly a gorilla. Han Jeong-do was truly a useless tool.
Gulp.
Kim Jong-jong’s throat moved.
This bastard… he’s genuinely insane.
And then came the real conclusion.
“Let me ask again. Even so… don’t you want to become stronger?”
“Let’s get stronger. And show them…”
“Who the real protagonist is.”
“And also…”
“…to those Kirin bastards.”
Kim Jong-jong’s eyes narrowed.
This kid—he knows too much about me.
And yet, he looks at me with absolute certainty, while I doubt myself.
Kim Jong-jong had to admit it.
“You’re an interesting one.”
He liked this lunatic.
Meanwhile, a car was speeding down the highway.
“Driver, ignore cameras and keep driving.”
“Yes, young master.”
Now that Mountain King’s location had been found, there was no time.
Less than an hour remained to Geumgang Mountain.
A woman beside him adjusted his tie.
“Relax.”
“How can I relax?”
“Then look at this. You’ll calm down.”
On the tablet were photos of other heirs managing regional guilds—competitors.
His eyes turned cold.
“They recruited the ‘Mage Killer’?”
“…The elders moved.”
Another page.
Celebrities entering hotels, CF models changing overnight.
“Dirty tricks…”
More reports followed. Corporate interference. Recruitment sabotage.
“They’re already going all out.”
This was no longer a warm-up.
It was open war between factions.
And Mountain King was the key.
“Give me the recruitment script.”
The document:
“…Just show sincerity, huh.”
He smirked.
“I’ll make him come to me.”
At that moment—
Ring ring ring—!
“…Who is it?”
“It’s your phone.”
“…Right.”
He answered.
And froze.
— “Do you even know how badly you messed this up?! Turn the car around and get back to HQ NOW!”
— “Mountain King is here.”
— “He came with Lee Shin.”
Everything collapsed.
