Memorize Chapter 232

Honestly, when I first entered the Player Academy, I didn’t pay much attention to Kim Han-Byeol. There was a time, long ago, when I considered recruiting her. If the future had unfolded as originally expected, she likely would’ve met her end in Babara. As a Secret Class, I thought it’d be better to take the risk and bring her into my fold rather than let her fall to the vagrants.

But when I sensed the future had twisted, I abandoned that idea. If the godmother hadn’t been assassinated and had successfully mediated, maintaining peace in the Northern Continent, recruiting Han-Byeol would’ve come with too many complications.

She wasn’t just some low-ranking clan member—she was a reserve executive and a Secret Class who’d made a name for herself in the Vagrant extermination plan. Taking someone the Golden Lion had painstakingly nurtured, especially for a newly established clan like mine, would inevitably draw hostile attention. And with the Golden Lion as the opponent, there was no guarantee they’d let it slide without retaliation. I decided she wasn’t worth the risk.

But after our conversation, I reconsidered. From last night until this morning, Han-Byeol and I engaged in what could only be described as a verbal sparring match. It was a time when she laid bare her deepest concerns, and I addressed them one by one.

At first, she cited her moral duty as a clan member and the contract she’d signed. I countered that no matter how much the clan had supported her, their outrageous orders couldn’t be justified. The frequent sexual exploitation within the Golden Lion, which had come to light before, was a clear stain on their reputation.

The contract wasn’t an issue either. It seemed binding at first glance, but it was merely a safeguard to prevent players from taking resources and running. Contracts between players held little legal weight, and the financial obligations could be settled easily.

As I explained this step by step, Han-Byeol seemed to understand—or perhaps she already knew. But the next confession she shared was more complex, not easily judged.

As a Secret Class Jewel Mage, Han-Byeol’s abilities were a money pit. Without gemstones as catalysts, she was barely different from an ordinary mage. Maintaining her class’s full potential required an immense budget, far less efficient than training multiple regular players.

She explained that few clans besides the Golden Lion could afford her, and even if she left for another, her situation wouldn’t improve much. Moreover, she doubted the Golden Lion would let her go quietly. I could sense her fear of facing the consequences alone.

That wasn’t all. Even if she endured everything and joined another clan, she was skeptical about fitting in. It seemed she’d faced significant jealousy and harassment in the Golden Lion, and she believed other clans would be no different. Rather than endure that pain again, she’d considered staying and toughing it out.

It could be seen as a victim complex, but her words weren’t entirely dismissible. Her story gave me much to think about—not just her feelings, but how to handle her situation moving forward.

Her alignment—Lethargy and Scar—provided some answers. Should I save her or not? After brief consideration, I decided to extract her.

The situation had changed. The future I thought was twisted was realigning, and defections from the Golden Lion were increasing, including executives and a female player who exposed the sexual exploitation scandal. It was an opportunity, though no offers had come for Han-Byeol, known as a close ally of Park Hyun-Woo and Seong Yu-Bin.

The most critical issue remained: her will. If she didn’t want to leave, I wouldn’t bother. But if she desired to break free, it was worth reconsidering.

To get to the root of her feelings, I posed one question.

“I don’t think staying with a trash clan that normalizes sexual exploitation is a good choice. You’re seeing things too narrowly. Not every clan is like the Golden Lion.”

“…”

“Your concerns aren’t baseless, but answer this: Do you still have any attachment to the Golden Lion? Are you willing to endure all that humiliation and shame to stay?”

As I recalled Han-Byeol’s resolute gaze in response, the waitress’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. “This way, please.”

I glanced to my right and saw Seo Jin-Woo, his face stiff, climbing the stairs with Sung Hyun-Min trailing behind. I gave a faint smile and raised my hand in greeting. As they returned the gesture, I put my thoughts about Han-Byeol on hold.

Her answer had been, “No. Honestly, I want to quit.”

And in that moment, a brilliant idea struck me—one that could kill two birds with one stone.

*

“I was shocked when I got the invitation. Never dreamed the Mercenary Lord would reach out first,” Seo Jin-Woo muttered in a gloomy tone.

“Haha, thank you for the invitation, Mercenary Lord,” Sung Hyun-Min added awkwardly, jumping in.

The table was soon filled with delectable dishes and high-end liquor. I picked up a bottle, opened it, and tilted it toward them.

“It’s been a while. Things have been so hectic lately that I’ve had a lot on my plate.”

I poured their drinks with a soothing tone. Seo Jin-Woo remained sullen, but Sung Hyun-Min accepted his glass with excessive politeness. Not entirely without manners, Seo Jin-Woo grabbed the bottle and filled my glass in return.

“Still, I’m a bit disappointed. I thought the Mercenary Lord had forgotten us entirely. Aren’t you busy these days, getting invitations from other clans left and right?” Seo Jin-Woo said, his tone laced with resentment, likely still sore about his Top 10 player status being put on hold.

“Player Seo Jin-Woo,” Sung Hyun-Min interjected, flustered, trying to rein him in.

I nodded reassuringly, raising my glass. “There’s been a misunderstanding. I did get invitations, but I turned them all down.”

“Why?” Seo Jin-Woo asked.

“No interest in getting chummy. Just wasn’t feeling it.”

I could’ve been more diplomatic, but these two were seasoned veterans—they’d get the hint. As expected, Seo Jin-Woo’s dour expression shifted, a spark igniting in his previously listless eyes. Sung Hyun-Min, who’d been forcing a smile, now cast a probing glance.

I swirled my raised glass, and they slowly lifted theirs in response. The sharp clink of crystal glasses echoed across the table.

“With all the control support schedules, I haven’t had time to meet. Plus, some personal issues came up. But I haven’t forgotten you two. I’m grateful for the help you gave me when I first joined the academy.”

“Ahem! No, no, Mercenary Lord, I showed some poor manners. The current situation got me down, that’s all. If my attitude offended you, I deeply apologize,” Seo Jin-Woo said, straightening up.

“Yes, as player Seo Jin-Woo said, the situation’s been stressful,” Sung Hyun-Min added.

I wasn’t here to fight, so I responded, “Then let’s make this a chance to clear up any hard feelings.”

The atmosphere quickly turned warm and convivial. After some light conversation, Seo Jin-Woo and Sung Hyun-Min began airing their grievances at a measured level. I responded in kind, careful to stay within bounds. Their words felt like a probing test, and I sensed the need to tread cautiously.

“I don’t view their actions favorably either. Anyone would think they’ve gone too far,” I said.

“As expected from the Mercenary Lord. Your words are a comfort,” Seo Jin-Woo replied, his mood visibly lifting.

“Haha, I’m just stating the obvious. Honestly, I can’t wait for the academy to end. I miss my clan members and worry about how things are going,” I added.

“Oh, right, your clan’s still settling in. Any plans for the future?” Sung Hyun-Min asked.

“Nothing’s set, but I’ll likely operate in the southeast. My clan members are waiting for me there.”

“Hahaha! Nice. This might be out of place in a casual setting, but our eastern city’s pretty good too,” Seo Jin-Woo said, both of them bursting into hearty laughter.

It seemed they’d accepted my stance. As we bonded, Sung Hyun-Min spoke in a subtle tone.

“Mercenary Lord, didn’t you mention a personal issue earlier? If it’s not too forward, I’d like to hear about it. Maybe we can help.”

“Oh, yes. It’s been weighing on me lately. I thought a drink might clear my head, and you two came to mind.”

He got the hint immediately. Sung Hyun-Min had picked up on my intention to turn away from the Golden Lion and seek their aid. Their demeanor shifted, and they listened intently as I began.

“I’ve noticed a steady stream of defections from the Golden Lion lately.”

“Indeed. Brave players who can distinguish right from wrong and call it out,” Seo Jin-Woo said.

“Do you need new clan members? I could introduce a few if you’d like,” Sung Hyun-Min offered.

I shook my head. While Golden Lion members were above average, that wasn’t my goal. Taking a deep breath, I emphasized confidentiality before recounting the events of the previous night and my conversation with Han-Byeol in detail.

They listened with rapt attention. When I concluded with Han-Byeol’s desire to defect, their reactions were swift.

“Using an executive for sexual favors? Surveillance crystals? Extreme measures? Did I hear that right?” Seo Jin-Woo exclaimed.

“Unbelievable, even for the Golden Lion…” Sung Hyun-Min muttered.

“Every word is true,” I assured them.

I had to stay sharp. While I’d resolved to extract Han-Byeol, I wasn’t going to shoulder all the risks alone. I needed an escape route or at least some backing.

Seo Jin-Woo spoke gravely. “Kim Han-Byeol. I’ve heard of her. But as a close ally of Park Hyun-Woo and Seong Yu-Bin, we didn’t dare approach her.”

“Yes. She wants to leave, but her position makes it tricky. That’s why I’m asking for your help.”

“Hm.”

Seo Jin-Woo cleared his throat at my directness, glanced around, then leaned in and whispered, “Mercenary Lord, I’m not doubting you, but this is a serious matter. Is it really true?”

“Absolutely. Why would I lie here?”

“Any evidence?”

“We discussed that too. Unfortunately, there’s none. She said they don’t allow magical items during executive meetings lately.”

“Crafty bastards,” Seo Jin-Woo muttered, exchanging a look with Sung Hyun-Min.

Sung Hyun-Min glanced at me, then nodded slowly. The moment felt agonizingly long despite its brevity. Finally, Seo Jin-Woo continued in a low voice.

“Since you’ve been open, I’ll trust you. There’s another large-scale defection planned for graduation day, comparable to the first wave.”

'They’re planning to stir things up before leaving,' I thought.

“Then…”

“We’d need to meet her, but adding her to the defection list is easy. But… Can we spread this a bit? Bluntly, Seo Ji-Yoon’s case stirred a lot of attention. Another hit like this could be very useful.”

“Player Seo Jin-Woo, that’s risky. The Mercenary Lord’s involved too,” Sung Hyun-Min cautioned.

“Yeah, but it’s such a pity,” Seo Jin-Woo said, glancing at me.

I swallowed hard and replied, “Honestly, both Han-Byeol and I want to keep this low-key. Especially her—she’s adamant about it.”

“But her defection will draw attention. Making it public, like Seo Ji-Yoon’s case, wouldn’t be a bad move,” Seo Jin-Woo pressed.

“The Golden Lion’s too good at manipulating public opinion. And Han-Byeol’s been struggling mentally, likely due to the trauma she’s endured. She’s prepared for some criticism but doesn’t want unnecessary gossip. Also…”

I hesitated but decided to continue. I’d planned to hold back, but to align our goals and secure their support, I had to speak.

“Wherever she goes next, I hope she can settle in well.”

“What? She’s not joining the Mercenary Clan?” Sung Hyun-Min asked, surprised.

“Nothing’s confirmed. But she’s like a little sister from the rite of passage—I can’t just ignore her. Her choice comes next.”

My words implied not to tarnish a valuable asset unnecessarily. They caught the hint, their eyes gleaming.

“Understood. We’ll keep it discreet, as you wish. An executive’s defection will amplify the impact, so it’s welcome. We’ll handle it quietly,” Seo Jin-Woo said.

“Thank you. I’ll arrange another meeting with Han-Byeol soon.”

“We’ll wait for your call.”

Seo Jin-Woo turned to Sung Hyun-Min, discussing openly in my presence. “Will they stay quiet? Han-Byeol’s a bit tricky.”

“Two options: they let her go quietly, playing the victim, or they make a move. Either way, we’re fine. As long as we don’t broadcast it, we can subtly let it be known we’re aware,” Sung Hyun-Min said.

I nodded in agreement. I’d escalate the situation, and they’d act as my shield. It was a win-win. I felt a twinge of guilt toward them, but as Sol would say, what’s good is good.

After the meal, we left the tavern laughing. Returning to the academy, I felt like a heavy burden had been lifted.

I’d done all I could. Now, it was just a matter of playing my part and waiting.