Chapter 20

Of course he’d dig into that first.

Eui-rim had expected his employment records to surface the moment Hae-gun admitted to a background check, so the question wasn’t surprising. Since it wasn’t something he could feasibly hide anyway, he decided to answer straightforwardly.

“Because I’m not a healer anymore,” Eui-rim said.

“Past tense? Your official affiliation is still registered with the health center, though,” Hae-gun pointed out.

“Due to personal circumstances, my constitution changed. I can no longer cast healing skills,” Eui-rim answered.

At the calm confession, Hae-gun’s eyes narrowed slightly.

A keen sharpness flickered in the gaze scanning Eui-rim’s face before quietly dissolving. Grazing a thumb over his lower lip, Hae-gun pressed on in a leisurely tone.

“Is that circumstance also why your skills suffered an error?” Hae-gun asked.

“Yes,” Eui-rim replied.

“And you still can’t tell me what that circumstance is?” Hae-gun murmured.

This time, an answer did not come easily. Now that Eui-rim knew the present Seo Hae-gun would resort to violence without hesitation, he couldn’t help questioning how much trust he could afford to extend. Granted, Eui-rim couldn’t deny that his own approach had been deeply suspicious from the start. He had also been far too complacent, naively assuming the broken man from his past life was all there was to Seo Hae-gun.

Even so, the man had struck him without warning. Since Hae-gun had chosen brute force over conversation, Eui-rim had to keep his guard up—quite apart from whether the Guild Master would even believe the truth if he laid it bare.

“You have quite a lot of secrets, Hunter Kang Eui-rim. It naturally makes one curious,” Hae-gun observed.

Reading Eui-rim’s hesitation, Hae-gun raised both hands to shoulder height in an exaggerated gesture of surrender.

“Well… if you’re afflicted with a status abnormality, it might not be something you can share so easily. I won’t pry any further for now,” Hae-gun conceded.

Backing off without pressing was unexpectedly accommodating. In truth, Eui-rim hadn’t expected the man to drop the matter so readily. Showing leniency in such strange moments was slightly disorienting.

“Honestly, I expected a rather different reaction when you woke up.” Leaning against the armrest, Hae-gun studied him intently. Deep navy irises, rippling like dark water, caught the crimson glow of the sunset through the window. “You don’t seem particularly uncomfortable around me.”

“Does it look that way?” Eui-rim asked.

“Yes,” Hae-gun said.

“I wonder. Couldn’t that just be the effect of my mental barrier skill?” Eui-rim countered.

“No, that’s not what I mean,” Hae-gun replied.

Eui-rim was about to protest that he was, in fact, thoroughly intimidated, but Hae-gun cut him off with a low chuckle. Holding Eui-rim’s gaze with an unblinking stare, he said, “You’re disappointed in me. Right now.”

In an instant, the excuses withered in Eui-rim’s throat.

The observation cut straight through his defenses, leaving him momentarily at a loss. “…I simply thought it would have been nicer if we had parted on more conventional terms,” Eui-rim admitted quietly.

Hae-gun gave a careless shrug. “See? You’re disappointed, but that’s not the same as finding me terrifying or revolting.”

“It’s true I was shaken… but I understood your reasoning wasn’t entirely baseless,” Eui-rim answered. “And you apologized, in your own way.”

Damn it. That makes all my resolve about keeping my guard up look utterly foolish. Why am I making excuses for him again?

Still, seeing those words slip out so easily, I suppose that really was how I felt. Absurd and disappointing as his strike had been, I never considered abandoning our arrangement, nor did I harbor genuine malice.

“Normally, people don’t react that way.” Hae-gun let out an incredulous scoff. Wearing the amused expression of someone indulging a child, he continued, “No matter how much I restrained my strength, anyone else in your position would be terrified and plotting an escape. They wouldn’t try to rationalize my behavior.”

…Put that way, he makes me sound like someone completely devoid of self-preservation.

Eui-rim wanted to blame his mental barrier skill again, but finding no words to back it up, he lapsed into silence. He faintly recalled hearing almost the exact same sentiment in the previous timeline, during their very first encounter.

“Had you cowered in terror, I would have understood,” Hae-gun murmured. “Had you shown disgust or fury, I would have taken it as a given.”

“…” Eui-rim offered no reply.

“Yet you simply looked at me with disappointment. Not fear, and not revulsion…”

“…” Eui-rim held his breath.

“Like someone who already knew me from the very beginning,” Hae-gun finished softly.

Eui-rim finally realized what had truly captured Hae-gun’s curiosity. It wasn’t merely the temporal skill or his unusual resistance—it was Eui-rim’s inexplicable lack of fear, his strange familiarity, and his quiet willingness to understand the Guild Master rather than flee from him. Hae-gun was determined to unravel what lay behind that gaze.

Hae-gun rose from the sofa and crossed the room. Quietly reaching out, he brushed a hand over Eui-rim’s hair. Warm. Measured. Nothing like the fist that had struck him down.

“So for now, I’ve decided to accept your proposal,” Hae-gun said.

“Proposal?” Eui-rim echoed.

“You offered to help clear the Tower of Time,” Hae-gun reminded him.

“…Ah.” A dazed syllable escaped Eui-rim before he could stop it, bringing a faint smile back to Hae-gun’s face. Pressing his lips into a tight line, Eui-rim nodded.

Right. That was why I sought him out in the first place. Swept up in the tension, he had nearly lost track of his original objective.

“Let’s draft a contract, you and I,” Hae-gun proposed.

Hae-gun leaned in until his face filled Eui-rim’s vision. Across the dark blue expanse of the Guild Master’s eyes, Eui-rim could clearly see his own reflection.

Bracing a hand against the bed frame, Hae-gun leaned closer still.

With a disarmingly soft smile, he dropped his voice to a whisper. “The term will last until the Tower of Time is conquered.”

“…” Eui-rim swallowed, paralyzed by the sudden proximity.

“Let’s see how well we manage together until then,” Hae-gun murmured.

Fortunately, the finer details were set aside for later. The setting was hardly ideal for negotiating legal terms. Explaining that he had been away from his duties too long and had a backlog of appointments to manage, Hae-gun said, “When the IV runs out, an escort will come for you. Go home and rest.”

Eui-rim only understood what Hae-gun meant once the IV drip neared its end. While he sat waiting alone in the quiet infirmary, the door opened, and Cheongho Guild’s Vice Guild Master, Lee Seonha, stepped inside.

“Please don’t get up. Stay seated,” she said immediately.

Lee Seonha looked far more exhausted in person than she ever did on news broadcasts, her voice laced with fatigue.

Did she pull an all-nighter? Her complexion was pale and the shadows under her eyes were dark, reminiscent of a corporate employee buried under endless overtime. Given a pillow, she looked ready to collapse into sleep within seconds.

“How are you feeling? Have the painkillers taken effect?” Seonha asked.

“Yes, it’s much better than when I first woke up,” Eui-rim answered.

Though a dull ache persisted in his abdomen, it was incomparably better than before. Earlier, even drawing a breath had felt agonizing.

Lee Seonha didn’t appear entirely convinced. Adjusting the empty IV bag on its stand, she spoke in a voice as weary as her expression. “It looks like we can remove the catheter now. If you don’t mind, I’ll drive you home myself.”

“Pardon? No, you really don’t need to go to the trouble,” Eui-rim protested, taken aback.

Having an elite hunter he had only ever seen on television offer him a personal ride was deeply disorienting, and her polite honorifics only made him feel more self-conscious.

“You must be extraordinarily busy; there’s no need to go out of your way for me,” he added.

“Please, let me handle the escort,” Seonha replied with a faint sigh. “Consider it an excuse for me to step away from my desk for an hour.”

“…Very well, then. Thank you,” Eui-rim conceded.

Refusing any further will only make things awkward. It’s better to accept.

As she carefully peeled away the medical tape and removed the needle, a dark purplish bruise on the back of his hand was exposed. Flexing his stiff fingers, Eui-rim stifled a quiet sigh. Seeing the discoloration linger with no sign of fading brought home the stark reality that his passive recovery had truly vanished.

“Come to think of it, I haven’t introduced myself properly,” she said as she discarded the tape. “I’m Lee Seonha, Vice Guild Master of Cheongho.”

Setting the IV stand aside, she extended a hand. Perhaps because her expression rarely shifted, she carried a distinctly rigid, disciplined presence despite her polite demeanor.

She was a career officer before awakening, wasn’t she? If Eui-rim remembered correctly, her entire family had military backgrounds.

Her grip was firm as stone, her palm calloused from years of combat drills. While her posture was immaculate and composed, the brief handshake was enough to make him acutely aware of the raw power coiled within her.

“I’m Kang Eui-rim. D-rank, and…”

“Yes, I’ve been briefed on the essentials,” Seonha interjected smoothly. “That you’re transitioning from a civil servant at a public health center to an active hunter.”

“That’s correct,” Eui-rim said.

“When will your departure from the health center be finalized?” she asked.

“My resignation has already been submitted, so it shouldn’t take long,” Eui-rim explained. “I have an interview with administration, followed by the Gaia Evaluation. Once the system confirms I can no longer utilize healing magic, the paperwork will clear immediately.”

“I see. Understood.” Seonha nodded.

Eui-rim had braced for a barrage of questions, but the conversation ended briskly. Having already received a full dossier from Hae-gun, she didn’t seem inclined to pry.