Chapter 23

The one advantage was that with that strikingly handsome face obscured, standing this close didn’t tie Eui-rim’s stomach into nervous knots. This is actually convenient. Should I ask him to wear this mask whenever we meet?

“Strange,” Hae-gun muttered. “Even Seonha walked right past me without noticing.”

He dropped the name so casually that Eui-rim only belatedly registered he was referring to Vice Guild Master Lee Seonha. So they’re on first-name terms.

Having never witnessed Hae-gun in an informal setting, it struck Eui-rim anew just how tightly knit the Cheongho core members were. On the mountain ridge, Hae-gun had casually referred to them as ‘our kids.’

Could the media rumors about him dating Lee Seonha actually be true? She certainly knew his habits inside out.

“What’s running through your head right now?” Hae-gun asked.

Eui-rim snapped out of his reverie to find Hae-gun leaning down toward him, eyes crinkling with amusement. Damn it. Lost in celebrity gossip, I completely forgot the man in question is standing right in front of me.

Taking a step back, Eui-rim offered a hasty excuse. “Apologies. I must be spacing out from fatigue.”

“Are you that exhausted?” Hae-gun asked.

“No, it’s manageable… I just had a restless night,” Eui-rim replied.

It wasn’t a lie; sleep had eluded him until dawn. The realization that he was walking away from his civil service career on his own two feet had kept his thoughts racing all night.

“Let’s get going,” Eui-rim said, gesturing toward the exit. “This isn’t somewhere I care to linger.”

Hae-gun nodded in agreement. As the taller man pushed through the glass doors with effortless strides, Eui-rim fell in quickly behind him.

“Huh? Healer Kang Eui-rim!” a voice called out.

The instant he cleared the entrance, several voices stopped him in his tracks. Despite the biting cold, a small crowd of local hunters was gathered near the courtyard steps, waving eagerly as they spotted him.

“Acquaintances of yours?” Hae-gun asked, pausing.

Eui-rim hesitated before answering, “Regulars, you could say. Hunters who frequently came to me for outpatient treatment.”

“A public health clinic has regulars?” Hae-gun asked, amused.

“It’s more convenient to keep their medical history on file in one clinic,” Eui-rim explained. “Freelancers and small raiding teams without dedicated healers usually find one practitioner and stick with them.”

When Eui-rim returned the greeting with a slight bow, the hunters hurried over. Judging by their flushed cheeks and frost-nipped noses, they had been waiting in the sub-zero chill for some time.

“It’s freezing out here,” Eui-rim said. “Why are you all waiting outside?”

“The lobby felt… weirdly uncomfortable, so we waited out here,” one of the younger hunters answered sheepishly.

“Uncomfortable?” Eui-rim echoed.

These were regulars who frequented the clinic weekly; why would the lobby suddenly feel uncomfortable?

As Eui-rim looked around the group, another hunter scratched his neck awkwardly. “How should I put it? It felt like… some suffocating pressure was barring the entrance. We couldn’t bring ourselves to step past the threshold.”

“Was something wrong with the entrance?” Eui-rim asked.

“No, not technically…” the hunter trailed off.

“Aren’t we leaving?” Hae-gun interjected, his voice cutting cleanly through the conversation.

Stepping directly between Eui-rim and the group, Hae-gun effortlessly took the duffel bag from his shoulder. Pointing toward the parking lot, he said, “You have heavy luggage. Let’s get moving.”

“Healer Kang, where are you headed?” one of them asked, bewildered.

Realizing he was departing for good, the hunters began peppering him with questions. Why was he dressed in civilian clothes? Why was he carrying luggage? Was he being transferred?

Damn it. My plan for a quiet, stealthy departure has completely collapsed.

Offering a resigned smile, Eui-rim confessed, “Yes. Today is my last day at the health center.”

“Resigning?! Were you scouted by a major guild?”

“Something like that, yes,” Eui-rim admitted vaguely.

While he wasn’t joining as a healer, entering an exclusive contract with Cheongho was technically true, so he let the assumption stand. Several of these raiders had unsuccessfully tried to recruit him in the past.

“Then… what about us?” a plaintive voice asked from the back of the group.

A young man at the fringe of the crowd looked near tears. Eui-rim searched his memory and recognized him as a cadet from the local Hunter Academy who had awakened in his mid-teens.

What was his name again? Min… Min-something. If Eui-rim remembered correctly, the boy was slated to graduate this coming spring.

“A much more capable healer will take over my duties,” Eui-rim assured him.

“But we liked being treated by you, Healer Kang,” the cadet protested mournfully.

It was embarrassing yet genuinely touching. The boy’s crestfallen slump bore an uncanny resemblance to his late younger brother, tugging painfully at Eui-rim’s heart. Reaching out, Eui-rim gave the youth’s shoulder an encouraging pat.

“Thank you,” Eui-rim said softly. “Stay safe out there, and congratulations on your upcoming graduation. And thank you, everyone, for all your kindness over the years.”

A somber, heavy quiet settled over the gathered hunters as Eui-rim bowed. Why are they acting like this? It isn’t as though I’m marching to my execution. He had never considered himself exceptionally warm or charismatic, making their collective sorrow all the more disarming.

In the end, Eui-rim was forced to break away. Catching up to Hae-gun, who had already drifted toward the asphalt path, Eui-rim lightly touched his sleeve. Hae-gun fell into step beside him, an amused edge to his voice.

“You’re remarkably popular,” Hae-gun noted dryly. “For a mere D-rank healer.”

What is his problem now?

While the Guild Master’s remarks were usually laced with irony, there was an unmistakable undercurrent of sour irritation this time, leaving Eui-rim completely bewildered. Did I do something wrong?

“It’s a first for me as well, so I was rather taken aback,” Eui-rim replied after a moment. “I suppose they simply grew accustomed to me.” Hae-gun responded with a faint, derisive scoff.

Unbelievable. Watching Hae-gun shake his head with an exasperated sigh, Eui-rim carefully changed the subject.

“Earlier, while you were waiting in the lobby…” Eui-rim began.

Though it was a transparent deflection, Hae-gun didn’t object. If anything, he seemed equally eager to abandon the previous topic, offering a casual nod.

“Did you feel any pressure in there?” Hae-gun asked.

“Not particularly,” Eui-rim answered. “It felt completely ordinary to me.”

They reached the upper parking tier in no time. Unlocking the vehicle parked beneath an overhanging pine, Hae-gun glanced back over his shoulder.

“The reason those hunters couldn’t step inside was almost certainly because of me.”

“Pardon?” Eui-rim blinked.

“People tend to find my presence intolerable,” Hae-gun explained calmly. “Even compared to other S-ranks.”

He likened it to the instinctive revulsion of the uncanny valley.

“Even while wearing that disguise artifact?” Eui-rim asked.

“Yes. The mask is the only reason they merely felt uneasy instead of fleeing in terror,” Hae-gun replied. “Think of how Director Lee Jong-sang reacted earlier.”

Just as Eui-rim was about to correct him that the name was Lee Sang-jong, the memory of the director drenched in cold sweat flashed before him, sealing his lips.

No wonder the Director turned pale enough to faint. It was Hae-gun’s ambient pressure all along.

“Do your guild members find you uncomfortable as well?” Eui-rim asked.

Eui-rim thought back to the relaxed familiarity with which Hae-gun had spoken of Lee Seonha as he waited for the answer.

Hae-gun clicked the key fob, his lips curving into a dry smirk. “They certainly aren’t at ease around me.”

It was an unexpected admission. Cheongho Guild had been established years ago, yet his core subordinates were still ill at ease around their leader?

In any hierarchy between a superior and their subordinates, genuine comfort was rare. Even so, Cheongho had always maintained a small, elite roster by design to avoid restrictive Association regulations. Every single member had been handpicked by Seo Hae-gun himself, bound by mutual trust so fierce that no corporate conglomerate or political faction had ever managed to drive a wedge between them.

“If anything,” Hae-gun noted, glancing sideways, “it seems you find me more comfortable than they do, Hunter Kang Eui-rim.”

“Me?”

Startled by the claim, Eui-rim raised his voice without meaning to. Having never felt particularly close or warm toward anyone in his life, the assertion struck him as jarring.

I thought I was maintaining a strict professional boundary. Did I somehow overstep without realizing it?

“Normally, people don’t warm up so readily to someone who struck them,” Hae-gun remarked, leaning against the car door. “When approached, they show at least a flicker of hesitation. Especially when there’s a difference in rank.”

“I don’t make a habit of dwelling on things I’ve already understood and moved past,” Eui-rim replied evenly.

Seo Hae-gun could not know the defensive distance Eui-rim deliberately maintained in his heart. Had he genuinely felt close to Hae-gun, he would have spoken far more candidly about the loss of his skills as well.

“Still, instinct is instinct,” Hae-gun chuckled. “Don’t tell me your skills wiped out your sense of self-preservation?”

“Who knows? That might be it.”

Trading dry banter, they arrived before the car. The vehicle Hae-gun drove was a deep blue sports sedan, gleaming flawlessly without a single scratch, looking as though it had rolled fresh off the showroom floor yesterday.

Stowing Eui-rim’s duffel bag in the rear seat, Hae-gun gestured toward the passenger side. Eui-rim hesitated briefly before the door, climbing in only after Hae-gun had settled behind the wheel.

“Where are we headed now?” Eui-rim asked.

True to its sleek exterior, the sports sedan offered an impeccably smooth ride. Fastening his seatbelt, Eui-rim glanced over as Hae-gun raised a brow while starting the ignition.

“I assumed you had business with me,” Eui-rim added.