***People thought that In the Hell hid away in some gloomy basement to plot crimes and conspiracies, but that was a complete misconception.Even if heroes and villains were divided between good and evil, villains who lived in the shadows still needed a way to secure food, shelter, and income. Famous villains might plunder the mansions of tycoons or stage terrorist attacks to steal gold and jewels, but even those feats required cooperation. For an individualistic group like In the Hell, every member had to take care of their own living needs.In short, even Ha Uichan had a day job when he wasn’t Under Doom.And because he liked quiet, simple things and avoided drawing attention, he had chosen his workplace very carefully. Through a friend’s recommendation—the head of a small office—he had joined a modest agency.Hero Office Non-Hero.Uichan was originally hired as an accountant, but since he held a Hero Certification, he was forcibly converted into a field hero. Not that it made much difference. The kind of work a small agency hero could do rarely went beyond chasing down missing cats.To make matters worse, Non-Hero was dirt poor. Its resident heroes were little more than wide-eyed idealists brimming with righteous passion and zero pragmatism. Watching them, even patient Uichan often had to lower his head and hide his face in his hands just to endure it.Naturally, the office had no contracts, no orders—practically extinct in the industry. Being treated like fringe weirdos was just part of their daily routine.Heroes of this era were not like those from times of chaos. Money, influence, and political leverage dictated a hero’s reputation. They were walking corporations—sources of capital and symbols of national power.It was utterly ridiculous.“Ha, look at them swarm like jackals over cleanup work.”“Hey, we’re not much different.”A man warming his hands over a barrel fire muttered grumpily. Four people were huddled together around it. Among them, a man in his thirties with a military-style buzzcut put in his in-ear device and scanned his surroundings with a dissatisfied expression.The eight-lane intersection was unusually empty. Barrel fires burned here and there, and armed heroes stood in tight clusters waiting.“Hey, but Blacktan’s office contacted us first, didn’t they? What does that tell you? They liked how we handled their last job. Right? Am I wrong?”The man with the earpiece—Song Ojun—grinned, puffing out his chest like a minister basking in royal favor. A yellow name tag dangled loosely from the grimy chest of his worn work uniform.[Non-Hero]Despite his shabby appearance, Song Ojun was the head of their office. “Office” was a generous word—it was just the second floor of a small building, sharing a wall with a shady private investigation bureau. Few ever came looking for them. But for some reason, everything had changed two months ago.Ha Uichan sat among the group, pushing his horn-rimmed glasses back up the bridge of his nose.“At this rate, even La Épée might give us a job next. When Blacktan first subcontracted us, I thought that’d be the first and last time. But the requests just keep coming, nonstop!”And that wasn’t all. Song Ojun gestured animatedly toward his disinterested teammates, spitting as he spoke.“Yesterday, Noatis’s office called me directly! Asked if we could dispatch to Seonghwa University next week. Can you believe that? Korea’s Three Great Heroes—bypassing all those big agencies to give me a contract! Why? They’ve finally recognized our deep sense of justice, that’s why.”“Deep sense of justice, my ass. And La Épée hasn’t even given us anything yet, so stop lumping them in. They’re subcontracting us because we’re easy to use. They don’t want to handle cleanup—just the glory of catching villains.”“Sure looks that way,” grumbled Kwon Songhee, a woman with long hair tied back tightly, lips pushed forward in irritation. Their jobs were strictly dirty, difficult, and dangerous—cleaning up crime scenes, removing debris from collapsed buildings, restoring ruined terrain.Still, for a team that had nearly starved, they were grateful for the generosity of the big-name agencies that subcontracted such work. Ever since the requests started coming in, their back pay had been caught up, and they even got bonuses.Once order had been restored and hero activity normalized, the world had adopted a ranking system. Rankings were based on accumulated achievements, number of active days, and public approval. {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} In Korea, only the top 100 were listed.Among them, the Three Great Heroes—La Épée, Blacktan, and Noatis. Their fame was so great that anyone who didn’t know their names was practically accused of espionage. They were more recognizable than the president himself. Ranked first, second, and fifth respectively, while the heroes in third and fourth were aging veterans whose ranks were sustained mostly by loyal older supporters and bureaucratic contracts.In terms of raw power and field activity, the consensus was that Noatis was effectively third place.So why were such titans giving work to a tiny, obscure office in the back corner of Seoul—one so insignificant it seemed ready to vanish at any moment?No one could figure it out. Someone sniffled and offered a half-plausible guess.“Maybe they just need lackeys. They’re tired of calling around every time, so they pick a few obedient ones to boss around. That’s us. Look—call us once and we come running like happy dogs.”“Hey, show some respect to our benefactors, you brats.”Though May had begun, two days of steady spring rain had left the nights still cold. Huddled close to the fire, Uichan drew in his shoulders, glancing around through his glasses.The restricted intersection was crawling with heroes and government agents instead of civilians, all carrying guns and light batons. At the center of the intersection lay a grotesquely torn creature, and here and there were corpses believed to be villains.The site had already been “cleared.” The small-fry cleanup crew now just waited for orders to begin.Uichan stretched his hands toward the drum fire, warming them, then quietly looked down at his stomach. Hunger was creeping in again—the twins would soon start rumbling like thunder. Fishing in his pocket, he pulled out two sausages, unwrapped them deftly, and began to eat.“Look at the youngest, still eating steady even in this mess. What, got a beggar living in your belly now? Why are you always eating?”“Hyung, stop picking on him! Eating’s a good thing!”Beside him, Lee Ranghyun—built like a bear—sniffled and glared. He was often teased for eating too much himself. Startled by the sudden outburst, Song Ojun laughed nervously and patted Lee’s back like an exasperated father.“But seriously, Captain, don’t you feel it? That eerie gaze somewhere?”Kwon Songhee leaned forward, rubbing her hands like a fly over the fire, and whispered. At her words, the group’s heads instinctively drew closer together.“You felt it too? Thought it was just me imagining things.”“Yeah, me too, but it’s real.”“Look, he’s staring at us right now…”Song Ojun discreetly rolled his eyes toward the other side of the road. Among the black-clad figures standing there, one tall man stood out.It was Blacktan. Their employer, the hero who had subcontracted this job to them as soon as the incident ended—and the colossal powerhouse who had resolved it. The moment Blacktan arrived, the chaos of the villain outbreak had been subdued in record time.No wonder. As a PMC (Private Military Company) mercenary, his marksmanship was monstrous—every shot dead on. The mercenaries surrounding him, the Litan troops, reported in like disciplined hounds.The Litan group was originally based in the United States. Their full PMC name was Litan Rebellion, though all international branches simply went by Litan. Blacktan was one of their mercenaries and served as the Sector Chief—the highest commander—stationed in Korea.One day, they had suddenly established a permanent base in Korea, and no one knew why. Rumors said they were secretly working with the government.Dressed head to toe in black, civilians called them “Black Panthers” or “Black Tigers.”But why was such a giant staring at us? Why?The Non-Hero members huddled closer, whispering in voices as small as ants.“Did we… do something wrong?”“Wrong? No way. That’s trust, pure and simple. They contacted us right after the cleanup, didn’t they? Those guys can’t get enough of us lately. It’s not just Blacktan—even Noatis keeps asking for me personally.”“Oh please. You think they’re looking for you? Word’s probably out that we’re starving. The Three Great Heroes must be doing charity work, giving handouts to the poor.”“Cut the crap. Hey, youngest, are you still eating? Get up! They’re waving the batons—orders coming soon.”“Just let me finish this one.”“Hyung, stop nagging him about food already! We’re all doing this to eat, right? Look at him—his belly’s flat as a board!”At that, Uichan, mid-bite into his last sausage, froze as if struck. Every pair of eyes turned to his stomach, pretending to be casual.…Was it really that flat? Frowning faintly, he ran a hand over it. The firm, muscular surface still hadn’t softened, despite his nightly attempts with warm compresses. Maybe he should start cutting back on activity.That thought lasted only a moment before, in the distance, a government official began waving a light baton.

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