Chapter 119

“It may be a compliment, but it isn’t exactly a pleasant one to hear.”

Yeonho’s unfailingly polite expression frosted over instantly. The painstakingly courteous demeanor he had maintained thus far completely vanished. Even a faded tiger is still a tiger—he was, fundamentally, an S-Rank Hunter. He was not the type of person to obediently curl in on himself when a sore spot was struck.

Furthermore, Nam Shin-hoo was not the type to back down from someone else’s killing intent.

“Do not arbitrarily define the limits of your own abilities,” Shin-hoo advised sharply. “Look at the broader picture.”

“Why did you come all the way to another guild’s headquarters just to meddle in—”

“The reason the activation range of your skill is so constrained, despite being an S-Rank ability, is precisely because your skill is that overwhelmingly powerful.”

Yoo Yeonho’s skill was incredibly unique. He possessed the absolute authority to manipulate the velocity of objects and the flow of light within a severely restricted perimeter—a radius of less than one meter.

In theory, it was an ability with infinite potential depending on its application. However, Yeonho absolutely despised his own skill. It possessed zero inherent lethality, zero offensive power, and an agonizingly microscopic range. Compared to the explosive capabilities of other S-Rank Hunters, his utility seemed disastrously low.

To make matters worse, the public’s scathing evaluations actively contributed to his deep-seated insecurities.

His younger sister Da-on’s combat style involved phasing through shadows to execute rapid, assassin-like strikes. Naturally, the public perceived Yeonho’s skill as nothing more than a highly specialized support mechanism tailor-made for Da-on.

Yeonho would lay down a bed of shadows within his tiny radius and maximize its velocity, allowing Da-on to use that specific space as an accelerating springboard to launch her attacks. That was the primary tactical application everyone assumed, and the siblings had obediently adopted that exact methodology in actual combat.

It wasn’t a terrible strategy.

Recalling his past life, the synchronization between the two was flawless. Engaging the Yoo siblings in a two-on-one skirmish was a deadly prospect that even Shin-hoo and Haeju preferred to avoid.

However, from Yeonho’s perspective, it must have been a profoundly bitter pill to swallow. No matter how brilliantly he performed, the inherent structure of their tactics guaranteed that Da-on would reap the vast majority of the glory.

It had been the exact same story in his previous life. Never realizing the true, devastating potential of his own abilities, Yeonho had lived out the entirety of his career as Da-on’s designated support Hunter until he met his end. Even his final demise had been a sacrifice to protect his sister.

Given their incredibly close bond, Yeonho’s life entirely dedicated to Da-on might not have been a completely unhappy one, but…

In this lifetime, you need to live differently, Shin-hoo resolved internally.

Shin-hoo desperately needed a larger roster of powerful, confident S-Rank Hunters. He had zero intention of letting a precious S-Rank asset be squandered as a mere accessory.

Fueled by those ulterior motives, Shin-hoo leaned closer to the young man.

“Your skill is not merely a support ability.”

“What could you possibly know to speak so casually about—”

“A one-meter radius may appear suffocatingly small,” Shin-hoo interrupted, “but you can trap practically anything within that space. If your target is human, you could easily fit their entire upper torso inside it. If you’re fighting a boss monster, you could lock down almost any sized head.”

“…”

“Think about it.”

He was a brilliant kid; simply planting the seed of the idea should be more than enough.

Because Yeonho’s skill required considerable time to manifest and was difficult to relocate once established, he had likely never considered utilizing it offensively. But those limitations were hurdles that could be overcome through brutal, relentless training. His skill seemed heavily restricted now, but if honed fiercely, it was the type of ability that could bloom into something terrifying.

Watching the profound shock slowly settle over Yeonho’s face, Shin-hoo gripped his vibrating phone.

A message from Kwon Haeju had just arrived.

[I have finished my business. I will be returning shortly.]

It would be troublesome if we missed each other here, Shin-hoo thought.

Rising from his seat, Shin-hoo gestured to the still visibly reeling Yeonho. “It seems the two of them will be coming down soon. Would you mind showing me the way?”

“Pardon? Ah, yes… Please, follow me.”

Looking slightly dazed, Yeonho escorted Shin-hoo toward the main reception hall. From a distance, they spotted Haeju and Da-on engaged in conversation.

Silhouetted against the brilliant sunlight streaming through the massive glass windows, Haeju stood facing the petite, sharp-featured Da-on. They appeared deeply engrossed in a surprisingly animated discussion.

Shin-hoo finally understood why the media had been so incredibly obsessed with the romantic rumors surrounding the two. Despite their differences, the delicate yet fiercely proud aura they both exuded was strikingly similar.

“…”

A bitter taste bloomed in Shin-hoo’s mouth. For some inexplicable reason, he felt as though he had trespassed into an intimate space where he didn’t belong.

“Oh, hey! What brings you here, ahjussi?”

Spotting Shin-hoo first, Da-on waved her arm enthusiastically. Her unwrinkled, radiant smile was just as blinding as the sunlight pouring in behind her.

“I was actually hoping to run into you today, so this works out perfectly. Did you come to pick up Kwon Haeju?”

“Da-on-ah. Please, watch your tone…” Yeonho sighed.

“Whatever. It’s not like he minds.”

Closing the distance effortlessly, Haeju took his place at Shin-hoo’s side, a genuinely soft smile gracing his features. Witnessing the drastic transformation, Da-on pointed an accusatory finger at him in sheer horror.

“L-Look at that expression! He was glaring at me like he wanted to murder me just a second ago!”

“How did you end up coming all the way here?” Haeju asked softly, completely ignoring her outburst.

“I heard you were here. Shall we head home together?”

“I would love to.”

Haeju naturally reached out to escort Shin-hoo, his tone dripping with unmistakable affection. Da-on’s expression morphed into one of absolute, unadulterated disgust.

“This is exactly why you shouldn’t third-wheel a couple. Right, Yeonho? We are going to have to fully fumigate the guild headquarters after this.”

“Please, Da-on-ah. Just stop talking. Actually… never mind. Just… yes.”

Thoroughly drained of energy, Yeonho abandoned all hope of reining in his sister and turned back toward Haeju and Shin-hoo.

“If you are ready to leave, I will escort you out.”

Returning a light, polite wave to the frantically waving Da-on in the distance, Shin-hoo followed Yeonho out to the parking garage. Approaching Haeju’s sleek black vehicle, Shin-hoo naturally slid into the passenger seat. Just as Haeju was settling into the driver’s seat, Yeonho—who had followed them outside to see them off—tapped lightly on Shin-hoo’s window.

As the tinted glass rolled down, Yeonho leaned in slightly.

“…Thank you for today,” he murmured sincerely.

“Hm?”

“If it is alright… could I perhaps seek your advice again in the future?”

The face Yeonho presented through the open window was remarkably shy. It was a complete departure from the rigid, defensive expression he had worn when they first met outside the building.

It can’t be easy for someone with the pride of an S-Rank Hunter to seek guidance from another, Shin-hoo thought. Should I call this attitude brave? Or is it simply naive to ask for help from a potential rival?

“Is it an imposition to ask?” Yeonho pressed nervously.

“I don’t mind.”

Shin-hoo accepted Yeonho’s phone and punched in his newly issued number. The phone Kanghyeon had procured for him only contained the contacts of people he had known prior to his disappearance; Yeonho was the very first new addition to that list.

“I do not have business cards yet,” Shin-hoo explained.

“Thank you so much! Ah, and there is just one more thing I would like to ask…”

Visibly relaxing, Yeonho offered a bright, genuine smile. In moments like this, his twin connection to Da-on was undeniable; their smiles were practically identical.

“The next time we meet, would it be alright if I called you hyung?”

“What?”

“I’ve always wanted an older brother. Since I only have a younger sister… But if it makes you uncomfortable, you can definitely say no.”

“…”

Yes, Yeonho was undeniably Da-on’s twin. He had expertly masqueraded as a dignified, impeccably polite young man, but the second he dropped his guard, that same inherently shameless streak revealed itself.

“Well…”

It was a request so brazen that even the legendary Nam Shin-hoo was momentarily rendered speechless. Unable to formulate a proper refusal, Shin-hoo gave a small, hesitant nod.

“Do whatever makes you comfortable.”

“Thank you! Get home safely, hyung-nim!”

“…Right.”

Are all kids these days like this? Or are those two siblings just exceptionally eccentric? Pondering a question with no logical answer, Shin-hoo rolled up the window.

Haeju navigated the vehicle out of the parking garage and merged onto a quiet road. The interior of the car remained cloaked in absolute silence as they traversed Seoul. Not a single word passed between them. Shin-hoo awkwardly rubbed his fingers together. He couldn’t ignore the bizarre, prickling sensation that had been steadily radiating from the ring on his finger for a while now.

“Kwon Haeju.”

The ring, normally a dark, muted crimson, was currently swirled with a distinct, glowing violet hue—a mixture of red and blue. He had occasionally seen faint streaks of violet pulse within the stone when interacting with Kanghyeon, but he had never seen it burn this brightly before.

“Use your words.”

The veins on the back of Haeju’s hands bulged sharply as he gripped the steering wheel. After driving in oppressive silence for several long minutes, Haeju finally spoke, his voice tight.

“Do you like that brat that much?”

“…What?”

“Forget it. It isn’t like I was unaware.”

That sounds… incredibly misleading, Shin-hoo thought incredulously. And why on earth is that the detail you are choosing to be angry about?

“It’s just a title,” Shin-hoo defended. “He said he wanted to call me that. Was I supposed to flat-out reject him?”

“…”

The deep furrow between Haeju’s brows showed absolutely zero sign of smoothing out. Staring dead ahead with a petulant, thunderous scowl, his face was illuminated by the slowly setting sun.

“Wait, are you… jealous right now?”

Over a simple honorific?

Instead of answering, Haeju grabbed a pair of sunglasses and shoved them onto his face, supposedly to shield his eyes from the waning sunlight. Considering he wasn’t the type of man to be bothered by a little glare, the sheer transparency of the action was staggering.

“Then you can just call me hyung, too,” Shin-hoo offered dryly.

“Why would I ever call you hyung?” Haeju shot back, his voice thick with stubborn annoyance. Hidden behind the dark lenses, he pressed his ridiculous logic. “Did you not claim that you lost consciousness and woke up four years later? Does that not mean your physical and mental age is still perfectly suspended at twenty-eight?”

“…”

So, according to Haeju’s wildly convenient math, Shin-hoo—who had skipped four years—was currently the exact same age as the four-years-older Haeju.