Return of the Sword God-Rank Civil Servant novel Chapter 76

[Digitalization Activated.]

The trio soon found themselves inside Seo Gi-won’s phone. The interface was far simpler than a typical computer desktop—designed intentionally for any unexpected scenarios.

Seo Gi-won approached one of the numerous virtual doors on his home screen, selecting the one marked with a phone icon. Opening it revealed three more labeled doors: “Keypad,” “Recent Calls,” and “Contacts.” He chose the “Recent Calls” door, which displayed the number of Ham Dae-ho, the last person they had called.

“Let’s move,” Seo Gi-won said.

Without hesitation, the three dove into the network. The transition was instantaneous—like traveling along an open phone network rather than trudging barefoot across a scorching desert. Within moments, they opened their eyes in a foreign space.

The transition was a success. Behind them stood a prominent door labeled with Seo Gi-won’s number, confirming their arrival. Seo Gi-won surveyed their surroundings and nodded.

“Looks like we’re in the right place.”

“Yeah. Now we just need to find traces of his communications with the drug supplier or any transaction records. Focusing on texts or messaging apps should be the quickest way,” Suho suggested.

“I heard they used Pelegram for transactions. Let’s start with that app,” Seo Gi-won replied.

“Understood.”

Pelegram, a foreign-made messaging app, was notorious for refusing to share user data, even with law enforcement. It had long been a tool for various criminal activities. According to their informant, Ham Dae-ho used Pelegram for his drug deals. After a brief search, they found the app—but it was locked behind a password.

Seo Gi-won frowned, his brows furrowing in disappointment. “As expected, it’s locked.”

“No problem. Hyun-min will crack it,” Suho said confidently.

“Hyun-min? What’s his special ability?” Seo Gi-won asked.

“Gate creation,” Suho replied with a smirk. “Hyun-min, you’re up.”

“Yes, sir,” Hyun-min replied, stepping forward.

Hyun-min’s unique ability, Gate Creation, allowed him to craft portals that could bypass any barrier, no matter how secure. Suho had relied on this ability in his past life, particularly during the Banshee team’s precise operations. It was why Hyun-min had been selected for this mission.

Apps like Pelegram were designed to alert users if there was a sudden breach attempt. While it was possible to circumvent such protections slowly, Suho wasn’t interested in wasting time. Responding to Suho’s signal, Hyun-min placed his hand against the app’s digital wall and activated his ability.

[Gate Creation Activated.]

A rectangular door formed where Hyun-min’s hand touched the wall. Seo Gi-won watched in awe.

“Wow... Do you know how many hours I’ve spent brute-forcing firewalls? I’ve tried everything from spamming skills to manual data mining.”

His frustration was genuine. Seo Gi-won had resorted to every tedious method imaginable in the past. Watching Hyun-min create a portal with such ease left him feeling both impressed and hollow.

“Why so down? Without you, we wouldn’t even be here,” Suho said, trying to console him.

“That’s true, but still... thinking about all that effort is depressing.”

“Hey, at least you don’t have to do it anymore. Look on the bright side,” Suho added.

“You’re right about that.”

Through the portal, the trio safely entered the Pelegram app. Inside, they found three simple doors labeled “Friends List,” “Chat List,” and “Settings.”

Suho approached the door labeled “Chat List” and opened it. Inside, there was only one chatroom.

“There it is.”

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

“No doubt about it.”

The chatroom title, Drugs, left little room for ambiguity. Seo Gi-won opened the chatroom door, revealing a sparse virtual room with a table, two chairs, and a stack of papers piled on the table. More striking, however, were the faint silhouettes seated in the chairs—human-like figures resembling holographic avatars.

Seo Gi-won gestured toward the figures. “Those avatars represent Ham Dae-ho and the supplier. Luckily, they haven’t left the chatroom yet.”

Pointing to the stack of papers, he added, “And those are the chat logs.”

He was right. The table was covered with documents, each filled with written records of conversations between Ham Dae-ho and the supplier. Suho skimmed through the logs, confirming the supplier’s identity.

“So, we follow this trail next?”

“See that door behind the supplier’s avatar? Going through it will take us to their Pelegram account.”

“Let’s go.”

“Understood.”

Following the same process, the trio transitioned into the supplier’s phone. This new space revealed multiple chatrooms, each representing the supplier’s clients.

“Damn... They’ve been busy,” Suho remarked.

“No kidding. If all these people are using drugs from Kim Goong-won, there’s no way he avoids a conviction,” Seo Gi-won added.

“He’s bound for Blue Jade Prison. He’ll rot there for years. Now, let’s trace this further up the chain.”

“On it.”

They began systematically extracting data: contact lists, text histories, and call logs. It was a tedious process, but it yielded valuable information. Eventually, they uncovered a key connection to Kim Goong-won.

“This number shows up frequently,” Suho noted.

“Looks like this is their supplier. Following this should lead us to their primary distributor.”

“Let’s move.”

The trio repeated the process, climbing further up the network. Each step revealed more about Kim Goong-won’s careful planning and extensive operations.

“How many layers of middlemen does this guy use?” Suho asked, exasperated.

“Well, given his business, he’s probably trying to be as cautious as possible,” Hyun-min replied.

“Still, we’re close now.”

“Based on the data, this should be Kim Goong-won’s contact information,” Seo Gi-won confirmed.

Finally, they breached Kim Goong-won’s phone. It was undoubtedly his—the device was filled with incriminating evidence, including photos and records.

“Yep, this is Goong-won’s phone,” Suho said, satisfied.

Seo Gi-won flipped through the photo gallery, chuckling. “Wow, this guy loves himself. So many selfies.”

“Maybe he’s prepping for an obituary photo,” Suho quipped. “Is the GPS on?”

“Yep, let me grab the location.”

Acro Tower, located in Gangnam, Seoul.