Ervin hovered in the air above the warehouse, his mind racing.
'This city is really strange,' he thought. 'Like living in a jungle. The corruption goes way deeper than I ever expected. The gangs, the money laundering, and now a warehouse right next to City Hall. There's no way this is a coincidence. Someone in the government has to be involved.'
He had no proof. Just a gut feeling. But his Intuition was practically screaming at him. Something was very, very wrong with Busan.
He shook the thought away. 'I'll deal with that later. For now, I need to see what's inside that warehouse.'
He floated down, passing through the walls of the large industrial building. Inside, the space was vast and open. Several ice cream trucks were parked in neat rows, their engines still warm from the morning's deliveries. The drivers were climbing out of their vehicles and walking toward a small office area at the back of the warehouse.
Ervin followed them.
The drivers filed through a door and into a modest office space. It was a typical workplace — desks, computers, filing cabinets, a few chairs. Nothing too fancy. A single man sat behind a desk, typing on a keyboard.
Ervin floated in behind the last driver before the door closed.
The drivers began reporting their deliveries. But they weren't using direct language. They were speaking in code, using the same coded phrases Ervin had heard at the restaurants.
"The restaurant on Baekseok Street received their stock. I think they're already enjoying it."
The man behind the desk nodded and typed something into his computer.
"The bar in Gwangan-dong. Same thing. They're enjoying the stock."
Another nod. Another entry.
"The convenience store near the station. They said they'll start enjoying it tomorrow."
One by one, the drivers gave their reports. Each time, the man behind the desk typed something into his computer. Ervin floated closer, peering over the man's shoulder.
He saw a spreadsheet. A list of businesses, dates, and amounts. The man was logging every delivery — noting which establishments had received cash and how much they had been given.
Ervin made a mental note. '+1 for that one. +2 for that one. Yeah, this is their record system.'
The man finished entering the data, then exported the spreadsheet and sent it to an email address. Ervin squinted at the screen.
The email address was gibberish. Nonsense. "[email protected]" — completely random, clearly a temporary burner account.
'A burner email,' Ervin realized. 'They're sending these reports to someone, but they're using temporary addresses so it can't be traced. Smart.'
The drivers finished their reports and moved to a different part of the office. They began changing out of their uniforms — the branded ice cream company outfits — and into casual clothes. T-shirts, jeans, jackets. They looked like ordinary people now.
One by one, they filed out of the office and left the warehouse.
Ervin watched them go, considering his options.
'Should I follow one of them? See where they go?'
But they scattered in different directions, each heading their own way. He couldn't follow all of them. And he had no way of knowing which one might lead him to something important.
'Eh. Not worth it. They're probably just going home or to a bar. Nothing important.'
He turned his attention back to the office. The man behind the desk was still there, reviewing paperwork. Ervin floated around the room, examining the space.
It was just an office. Nothing special. Papers, files, a few official documents that looked like they were related to the money laundering operation. But nothing that indicated where the main vault was.
'I was hoping to find the main vault today,' Ervin thought, a note of disappointment in his mental voice. 'But it looks like that's not going to happen. Today was good enough — finding the delivery network already made the day worth it.'
He let out an imaginary sigh. 'Well, I've learned a lot. I know how they distribute the money. I know how they track it. I know they use burner emails. Honest work!'
He decided it was time to return to Han Joon-seong.
He relaxed his focus, letting go of the separation between his consciousness and the body. His perspective began to shift, pulling back from the warehouse, soaring through the air at incredible speed. In just under two minutes, he was flying across the city, passing over buildings and streets until he reached his destination.
He arrived back at Han Joon-seong's apartment.
Han Joon-seong was sitting on the bed, completely still. His posture was erect, his hands resting on his knees. His face was utterly blank — no expression or the slightest bit of life. He looked like a doll of some kind.
Ervin slid back in, and without Auto Pilot, Han Joon-seong's eyes gained a little bit more life. He blinked.
"Alright," Ervin said through Han Joon-seong's mouth. "I saw some businesses today, but there have to be more. Busan is a big city. This is just the beginning. I'll need to investigate more thoroughly later to complete the mission. But for now, that's enough."
He stood up from the bed and stretched. His body felt stiff from sitting still for so long.
'Now I need to think about something else. My Strength training is becoming ineffective. Lifting weights barely gives me any XP anymore. If I keep going like this, I'll hit a wall completely. I need to find another way to train.'
He walked over to his computer and sat down. He opened a browser and searched for alternative training methods.
'Pilates? Let's try that.'
He found a video tutorial and watched it. A woman on the screen demonstrated various exercises — stretches, core movements, slow controlled motions. Han Joon-seong laid a mat on the floor and began to follow along.
His body moved with perfect precision. [Adaptation(Perfect)], [Auto Pilot(Perfect)], and Intuition combined to replicate every movement flawlessly. The woman shifted from one pose to another, and Han Joon-seong followed without missing a beat.
But after a few minutes, Ervin felt only a mild burn. Nothing significant.
'Hmm. I'm feeling a little burn, but I don't think this is it. This isn't doing much.'
He sighed in frustration and tried something else. Another video — this time, dance. A high-energy routine, something fast-paced that would test his stamina.
He chose a breakdance tutorial. The moves were complex, requiring agility, balance, and explosive power. Han Joon-seong moved through the steps with surprising grace — his body was more than capable of handling the demands. But after several minutes, all Ervin noticed was that his breath was a little heavier. No attribute gains.
'Nope. Not this either.'
He sighed again, his frustration growing. 'What about calisthenics? That seems more related to strength training than the other stuff.'
He pulled up a calisthenics video. The instructor was a muscular man with a cap and sunglasses, his physique clearly the result of years of bodyweight training. He demonstrated a series of exercises — pull-ups, dips, push-ups, and more advanced moves like muscle-ups and front levers.
Ervin watched carefully as the instructor explained the techniques. Then he commanded Han Joon-seong to begin.
Han Joon-seong dropped to the floor and started the routine. The first few exercises felt familiar — regular push-ups, tricep dips, standard movements. But then came the more advanced variations. Decline push-ups. Wide-grip pull-ups. L-sits.
And then the muscle-up.
Han Joon-seong grabbed the bar, swung his body upward, and pulled himself over the bar in one fluid motion. The movement required immense upper body strength, core stability, and explosive power.
Ervin felt it immediately.
A deep burn in his muscles. A sensation of fibers being stretched and torn and rebuilt. His body was being pushed in ways that standard weightlifting hadn't achieved.
He pushed through the exercise, completing the set. Then he started another. And another.
A notification appeared in his vision:
[Strength is being trained...]
[Strength is being trained...]
[Strength has gained experience (2/320)]
Ervin's eyes widened. "What? Already? That fast?!"
He checked the timer. He had been doing calisthenics for less than forty minutes. And he had already gained experience — something that usually took hours of weightlifting to achieve.
He stopped Han Joon-seong mid-motion, letting the body rest. He was covered in sweat, his muscles trembling from the exertion. His shirt was soaked through. He was breathing heavily — but he was also smiling.
'This is it! This is the right way to train Strength! Bodyweight exercises — calisthenics, gymnastics, functional movements. That's what I need. Not just lifting heavy weights.'
He looked at the notification again, a grin spreading across his imaginary face.
'I found it. I finally found the right method.'
He let Han Joon-seong catch his breath, then started the next set of exercises. The burn was intense, but it was a good burn. A productive burn.
For the first time in days, he felt like he was making real progress again.