What was I thinking about before I fell asleep yesterday?

Unfortunately, I can't remember that, but I do know that it's been approximately 240 minutes since my last activity.

— Beep, beep, beep. Beep, beep, beep.

I had been trying to restore my disrupted sleep schedule after two months of research.

Today was a Wednesday morning.

I woke up to the sound of my pre-set alarm.

Just knowing that the day's name included the character 水 (meaning "water") somehow put me in a good mood.

[National Tax Service]

Contrary to my expectations, a message had arrived on my phone as soon as it turned on.

The National Tax Service, out of nowhere?

[Inquiry number: (*******)]

'Could this be a scam? Hunters' income taxes are deducted at the source anyway...'

This world was full of spam messages, so normally, I wouldn't have paid much attention to an unknown notification.

But for some reason, this time, I felt an odd sense of unease.

Just in case, I decided to call the contact number listed in the message.

When I dialed the inquiry line, a familiar automated message played in my ear:

— All consultants are someone's family or friend. If you continue to use abusive language, the call may be terminated.

By the time that message ended, a male consultant picked up.

And then—

The moment he confirmed my identity using my resident registration number and a few other details, he spoke in an exceptionally polite tone.

— Ah, you're inquiring about overseas income reporting. While you don't have to pay this amount right now, we provide early notices for high-tax hunters like yourself as a precautionary measure.

"...What?"

— Mr. Kim Gireo, as of next February, you will be liable for a tax payment of 40,035,248,900 KRW.

"...What?"

— Of course, you can opt for installment payments as well.

This consultant—

Just what the hell was he saying?

I... I actually had unpaid taxes?

I nearly violated the Occupational Safety and Health Act.

In other words, I almost swore into the phone.

But it wouldn't do to take out my stress on an innocent office worker.

So, I calmly ended the call and played back the recorded conversation.

Even after listening multiple times, I hadn't misheard.

The name Kim Gireo (金技勵) was now linked to a substantial tax demand.

========

|| 40 billion KRW ||

I was so shocked that this specific number burned itself into my brain.

"That much?!"

Just what kind of bolt-from-the-blue situation was this?

[Text Message]

[Sender: Hunter Kim Gireo]

[Subject: Please save me]

A few hours later

Seoul, Hunter Association Branch under the Han River

"Hello. First of all, did you receive the message I sent?"

"Yes."

"As I mentioned in the message, I need help, which is why I came here."

Let's be clear—there were only a limited number of people an outsider like me could rely on.

The moment this extraterrestrial recognized the impending crisis, they sought out this place.

Fortunately, despite it being a weekday, the other party had made time without hesitation.

So, just like before, they were able to discuss the matter over lunch.

"Hunter Kim Gireo, just to clarify—I'm not a tax officer, you know?"

"I know."

"You came to see me even though you know this isn't my area of expertise?"

"Well, I made this friend exactly for times like these, so when else am I supposed to use them?"

"Sir, I'm sorry, but I think you've learned the word 'friend' in a rather strange way."

The civil servant, Seon Woo-yeon, standing before the alien, made a peculiar expression.

"Really? Well, we can correct my vocabulary later. For now, this is urgent."

Before she could even react, the other party continued speaking.

"Ms. Seon Woo-yeon, do you know how to issue a joint authentication certificate?"

"Yes."

"Then, could you issue one under my name? I need to check something, and apparently, I need that to do it."

Standing in front of her was a young man with dyed hair, styled fashionably.

Yet, for some reason, at that moment, Seon Woo-yeon was reminded of her late grandfather.

There was no time for nostalgia, though.

"Alright. Please wait a moment. I'll run and grab my laptop."

Even with his expression remaining blank, the way he anxiously shifted his weight made it clear—this was a serious situation.

As a civil servant of the Association, Seon Woo-yeon soon returned with her personal PC.

"Hunter, by the way, you'll need to change your password later to something only you know. This is a crucial certificate, and if it gets leaked, it could cause major trouble."

"Got it."

"By the way, which bank do you mainly use?"

"Circulation Bank."

At this point, the kind civil servant still hadn't grasped the severity of the situation.

"Okay. The issuance is complete, and if you're curious about your tax details, you just need to click here and here on the site..."

But as they proceeded with the process, a certain number crept into view.

"Huh? A single income transaction of 100 billion won from a company called Imabari? Is this from the Kagoshima Gate settlement?"

"Probably."

A B-rank hunter couldn't even imagine figures like these.

The long-haired woman in black reviewed the screen once more, keeping her tone composed.

"Well, anyway, income earned from hunting overseas does sometimes result in unexpected tax bills at weird times."

"......"

"It's because, in the past, some countries caused major controversies when they tried to impose last-minute tax settlements on foreign hunters..."

"......"

"Now, tax procedures have to go through the International Association, and things have gotten a bit messy. But as long as you apply for a deferment, you should be able to pay like a normal self-employed person in May."

But that wasn't the main issue.

"Then what exactly is the problem that made you come here in such a rush?"

"The tax amount... I think the number is wrong. It seems strange..."

Seon Woo-yeon blinked her eyes, calmly analyzing the situation.

"Is the amount Imabari paid you different from this figure?"

"No."

"Then what part seems strange to you?"

"The fact that they're taking 40% of my earnings as tax..."

It was only now that she realized why he had come all this way.

"Hunter, you make a lot of money. That's just how it works for high earners."

"That's just how it works?!"

Click, click.

By the time the Alphauri raised his voice, the kind-hearted native was already tapping away at her laptop, sincerely trying to help.

"Anyway, if the reported amount matches the actual payment, then yes, this tax rate is correct."

"It's really correct? Seriously?"

"When you receive the tax notice from the National Tax Service next year, take it to a professional tax agent. I can recommend a few good ones."

Frankly, even S-rank hunters had to pay hefty taxes.

Every time they cashed in high-value dungeon loot, enormous sums were involved.

So why was this alien only now making a fuss about it?

"Hmm?"

Since her family had been in the automotive business, Seon Woo-yeon had a basic understanding of tax law. As she mentally reviewed the details, she suddenly found something odd.

Looking back, the expressionless man stood completely still—he had even stopped breathing.

Just in case, Seon Woo-yeon asked, half-dreading the answer.

"By the way... you do have enough money to pay your taxes next year, right?"

No response.

"You do... right?"

What could be more terrifying than this?

In front of the low walls of the Hunter Association, two people were suddenly overcome with fear.

The black-haired woman's voice trembled like a goat's bleat as she pressed on.

"You made a whole 100 billion this year! How could you possibly not have enough for taxes? A-and just how much are you short?"

"Looking at my account balance... I'm currently about 30 billion in the negative."

Oh my god.

As Seon Woo-yeon struggled to process this, the alien hesitantly confessed the truth.

"The 100 billion I received from Imabari... I pretty much spent it all at once to make these gloves."

Now that she looked, his hands were covered in black leather gloves.

Well, it was cold these days, and the glossy, thick material did look high quality.

But that wasn't the issue here.

"Th-then maybe you could sell them and secure some cash first? Even for an S-rank hunter, making that kind of money immediately is—"

"Difficult?"

"High-difficulty gates are appearing more frequently, but that doesn't mean monster threats always translate into lucrative loot..."

This was bad.

Seon Woo-yeon had suggested the obvious solution—selling [Midnight Gloves]—but it wasn't an option for the alien.

"I can't put this on Earth's market."

[Midnight Gloves] were, in a way, like semi-automatic handguns—handing such over-technology to primitive humans still making campfires was dangerous.

"If intelligent mammals got their hands on this and started researching it... that'd be the end."

A cold sweat trickled down Kim Gi-ryeo's gaunt face.

"And selling the house I just bought is impossible too. The purchase price included acquisition tax and legal fees—I'd be at a total loss."

How on earth did things end up like this?

"This is the government's fault! They should've warned me that I'd have to pay this much!"

"Please calm down."

"How is an alien supposed to know this kind of thing?!"

Whisper, whisper.

Kim Gi-ryeo leaned in and whispered desperately to Seon Woo-yeon.

As he suddenly closed the distance, the earthling instinctively recoiled—but only briefly.

"Wait a second. Hunter Kim Gi-ryeo, something seems off, so I checked..."

"Checked what?"

"It says here that the National Tax Service sent you an official notice months ago."

Tap.

Seon Woo-yeon pointed to a section of the screen with her cursor.

"...Specifically, to the mailbox of that old studio apartment that got destroyed in an accident."

A chilling silence settled between them.

"Hunter Kim Gi-ryeo."

"Yes?"

"Since that place collapsed, you must have moved recently, right?"

"Yes."

"I hate to ask this now, but... are you familiar with the concept of a change of address registration?"

"I am not."

This just kept getting worse.

"Ah...! So that's why the tax mail never reached you...!"

Realizing the full picture, the earthling's mouth fell open.

And at this point, even the arcane scholar next to them had figured out the issue through sheer intuition.

"B-but wouldn't they normally send alerts via phone too? Hold on. I see traces of you paying taxes when you worked as a delivery rider."

"I did?"

"If that's the case, then you must have registered a contact number somewhere..."

Because someone's phone had broken after getting caught in the rain.

"Did the text come at that exact moment?"

Oh, for god's sake.

The taxpayer's negligence was off the charts.

"Guess I can't exactly throw a tantrum and blame the government now."

But there was still a way out.

After all, this alien had put two different countries in his debt.

"I'll contact Andy Oliver right now and tell him to cough up the money! And if pulling from one side isn't enough, I'll just squeeze that terrified Imabari guy for another 20 billion!!"

A Japanese S-rank hunter, Iori.

The son of PIXY's founder, one of the wealthiest men in the U.S.

How many people in the world could directly contact figures like these?

Kim Gi-ryeo had managed to obtain both of their personal numbers—one at the Tokyo Expo, the other during the whole [Knight's Oath] blackmail incident.

Somehow, he'd ended up ridiculously well-connected.

So in this emergency, he decided to fully leverage his network.

[Andy: Hello, Gi Ryeo from Korea. Let me start by answering your inquiry.]

And once again, an alien was reminded—brutally—of the ways of this world.

Nothing in life ever truly went the way you wanted.