Chapter 32

Eui-rim watched Hae-gun slip the mask back on, turning his head away the moment those eyes shifted back to brown. The phrase “that we are exceptions to each other” remained caught in his throat, refusing to settle. His chest tingled with an unbearable prickle, like stifling a persistent cough.

The contract Lee Seonha brought over was thicker and more detailed than standard insurance paperwork. Glancing over the dense walls of text, Eui-rim flipped straight to the final page. Since they had already settled the terms through extensive email exchanges, there was no reason to hesitate.

“Are you truly comfortable with these terms?” Seonha asked.

Yet the Vice Guild Master couldn’t seem to shake her lingering reservations. Repeating the inquiry for the third time, she added, “If there’s anything you’d like to amend, please speak up. You haven’t signed yet.”

“Well, there is one favor I’d like to ask,” Eui-rim said.

At Seonha’s persistent prompting, Eui-rim finally spoke up. Seo Hae-gun—who had just dispatched Moonhyuk on another errand—turned around at his words. Eui-rim tapped the contract he had already read a dozen times, then said, “Though it’s strictly for a limited term… as a temporary guild member, would it be possible to request some protection?”

“Do you require additional security protocols inside dungeons?” Hae-gun asked.

“No, that’s not what I mean. I was wondering if Cheongho could step in if threats arise from another guild,” Eui-rim clarified.

“Why? Is someone harassing you?” Hae-gun asked, his eyes narrowing.

Hae-gun stepped closer, a dangerous glint in his smile. “Who is it? Want me to take care of them?”

“Do not interfere, Guild Master,” Seonha cut in sharply.

The reprimand flew without missing a beat. Even though Hae-gun hadn’t specified what he meant by taking care of them, Seonha’s immediate shutdown suggested such impulses were a recurring hazard.

“Could you explain the situation in more detail? Which guild is threatening you, Hunter Kang Eui-rim?” Seonha pressed.

“Kim Si-hoon, the Guild Master of White Noise,” Eui-rim answered.

“Ah. Kim Si-hoon,” Hae-gun muttered, understanding immediately.

Hae-gun grasped the picture without needing further explanation. Given the deep frown settling over Seonha’s face as well, Kim Si-hoon’s notoriety was clearly even filthier than Eui-rim had assumed.

I considered showing them the threatening texts that bastard sent, but it seems there won’t be any need for proof.

“…Kim Si-hoon terrorizing healers is a notorious story,” Chaeyoon chimed in from the doorway, “but I had no idea Hunter Kang Eui-rim was caught in his crosshairs. Isn’t Seon-i Public Health Center outside White Noise’s jurisdiction anyway?”

My thoughts exactly. Why on earth did that lunatic go out of his way to cross districts and kick up such a fuss?

As Eui-rim let out a sigh, Seonha regarded him steadily before continuing, “If an open conflict erupts between guilds, it’ll cause an uproar, but don’t worry too much. If push comes to shove, I’ll arrange an unoccupied dungeon transfer. Once a suitable opportunity turns up…”

“No, please. I didn’t bring this up to incite a war between guilds,” Eui-rim cut in, alarmed.

A puzzled look crossed Seonha’s face.

What? Why is she looking so baffled? Was she actually prepared to drag our guilds into an open war? But I’m merely a temporary hire at best—why would I ever expect that?

“I was only asking if you could officially confirm that I’ve joined Cheongho,” Eui-rim said.

“Official verification?” Hae-gun echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes. I need to notify Kim Si-hoon that my affiliation has changed,” Eui-rim explained.

Knowing Kim Si-hoon’s volatile temper, the man would undoubtedly snoop around behind the scenes, but having an official guild representative vouch for Eui-rim would make shaking him off far simpler. No matter how recklessly Si-hoon threw his weight around, he wouldn’t dare cross the nation’s top guild. Eui-rim simply hoped Cheongho’s name would serve as an effective deterrent.

“Want me to make an official public announcement?” Seo Hae-gun had slipped into the chair beside Eui-rim at some point, propping his chin lazily in his palm. Tilted sideways in a thoroughly relaxed posture, he mused, “Rumors are bound to swirl once you start accompanying me everywhere. It wouldn’t hurt to reveal your identity while we’re at it.”

He tosses out horrifying suggestions without batting an eye. Absolutely not.

Trailing vague rumors behind him was one thing; officially presenting himself as a core Cheongho member to the media was entirely another. Besides, he was merely a temporary contractor. Once they cleared the Tower of Time, they would part ways. He had no desire to invite public scrutiny into his quiet life.

“I also believe a public announcement is the better course,” Seonha agreed.

Contrary to expectations, Lee Seonha backed Hae-gun up. After a brief consideration, she added in a measured tone, “Regardless of whether we make a statement, outsiders will eventually dig up who Hunter Kang Eui-rim is. Friendly parties will investigate out of curiosity, and hostile factions will be even more eager to pry into your background.”

“…”

“In the latter case, the danger escalates exponentially,” Seonha warned. “In the past, some of our members found themselves in serious peril after trying to keep their identities confidential.”

Eui-rim was taken aback by the sober warning.

She wasn’t speaking hypothetically; there was actual precedent for bloodshed.

“If the public knows Hunter Kang Eui-rim belongs to Cheongho, it will deter underhanded schemes,” Chaeyoon added. “Your personal safety will be far more secure.”

“Hear that?” Hae-gun asked with a triumphant grin, looking far more pleased with himself than Seonha, who had actually delivered the reasoning.

Looking away from Hae-gun’s smug expression, Eui-rim countered, “Still, is there any reason to hold a press release when I’m only accompanying you for a few months? The contract dissolves the moment we clear the Tower of Time.”

“Do you have plans to sign with another guild afterward?” Hae-gun asked.

“No. Nothing like that,” Eui-rim said.

The compensation Cheongho promised for conquering the Tower of Time amounted to twenty years of his former civil service salary. Factoring in hazard pay and dungeon rewards, he could live comfortably off the interest alone for the rest of his life.

Above all, in three years, that cursed shadow would descend upon the world. He had zero desire to join another guild and suffer through that impending nightmare.

“Then it’s settled,” Hae-gun declared with a languid stretch of his arms. “If your affiliation changes down the road, we can deal with it then. For now, let’s release the announcement right after clearing Utopia. Seonha, prepare the press statement.”

“Understood,” Seonha replied.

The conversation swept forward so smoothly that Eui-rim found no room to object. Parting his lips in mild daze, he fiddled with the phone in his pocket and swallowed a sigh.

Well, fine. If Lee Seonha is endorsing it, it must be the safest route. If the protective benefits outweigh the annoyance, there’s no reason to refuse.

“By the way, did Moonhyuk get lost in the hallway? What’s taking him so long?” Hae-gun muttered, glancing toward the door as Eui-rim signed the final page.

Hae-gun frowned at the doorway, clearly puzzled that their briefing hadn’t begun yet.

Handing the signed contract to Seonha, Eui-rim checked the clock. Thirty minutes had already elapsed since Moonhyuk stepped out.

Speak of the devil—Seonha’s phone chimed with an incoming call. Showing the screen to Hae-gun, she answered, “Why aren’t you back? The Guild Master is waiting.”

An agitated voice poured through the receiver in a frantic rush. The volume was too low for Eui-rim to make out the words, but seeing Hae-gun’s eyes narrow, the news was clearly unwelcome.

“What should we do?” Seonha asked, looking directly at Hae-gun. She possessed complete faith that his heightened senses had caught every word through the speaker.

And validating that trust, Hae-gun answered without hesitation, “Tell him to let them up.”

“…Bring them up,” Seonha instructed into the phone.

A sudden chill settled over the room. Wondering what had gone wrong, Eui-rim looked between them until Seonha noticed his confusion. “It seems a problem has emerged with the Jeju Island dungeon,” she explained with a furrowed brow. “Moonseong sent an urgent representative.”

“A problem?” Eui-rim asked.

Weren’t we scheduled to depart tonight? What could go wrong with a stable dungeon?

“Has a dungeon break occurred?” Eui-rim asked.

“No,” Seonha replied. “It doesn’t appear to be a break. They claimed they would explain with footage, but we’re in the dark as well.”

So that’s why Seo Hae-gun’s mood turned frosty. Receiving an ambiguous alert right before departure would make anyone suspect foul play or sabotage.

“Guild Master,” Seonha spoke up cautiously, eyeing his face. “You aren’t planning to meet them wearing that mask, are you?”

“Why not?” Hae-gun asked.

“I don’t know why you bought that new one, but it’s better to stick with your familiar mask when receiving outsiders,” Seonha reasoned. “You can hardly take it off in front of guests just to prove your identity.”

“Is it really that unconvincing?” Hae-gun turned to Eui-rim.

…Why are you asking me when Seonha is the one telling you to change it?

Eui-rim merely shrugged. To his eyes, there was no difference aside from the brown irises. At most, Hae-gun’s facial lines appeared slightly softened, but it was barely noticeable.

Yet given that Seonha’s initial reaction had mirrored Moonhyuk’s shock, Eui-rim was evidently the outlier. From their descriptions, Hae-gun looked like an unfamiliar middle-aged man around Director Lee Sang-jong’s age to everyone else.

When Eui-rim remained silent, Hae-gun chuckled and retrieved the familiar black mask from his pocket. As he swapped them, Seonha kept her gaze resolutely averted toward the wall, looking almost as unsettled as Moonhyuk had been earlier.

Could remaining completely unfazed by his unmasked face be yet another “exception”?

“I’m back,” a voice called out.

Ahn Moonhyuk reentered the room, carrying coffees laden with caramel drizzle and towering mountains of whipped cream.

Eui-rim stared between the decadent drink in Moonhyuk’s hand and the nervous man trailing behind him. He wasn’t sure whether to be bewildered by Hae-gun’s sugar cravings or unsettled by the arrival of the grim messenger.

“So. What kind of disaster brings you here with video evidence in hand?” The moment he took the cup, Hae-gun gave the whipped cream a lazy swirl, his icy demeanor clashing sharply with the cloying sweetness wafting from the coffee.

The representative from Moonseong was drenched in cold sweat. Dabbing his brow with a trembling handkerchief, he bowed with utmost deference, recognizing the black-masked hunter immediately.

“I am deeply sorry, Guild Master Seo. I have no excuse,” the envoy stammered.

“Why are you apologizing to me?” Hae-gun asked coldly. “Did Yuk Do-hwan cause another mess while meddling where he shouldn’t?”

“…First, I’d like to know why Moonseong was monitoring a dungeon whose raid rights were fully transferred to us,” Seonha pressed, her gaze sharp.

As Seonha cornered him, the representative’s face drained of color. Without a word of defense, he turned on a tablet and extended it toward Hae-gun with shaking hands.

“…Hm?” Hae-gun murmured.

A video was paused on the screen. The recording captured a head-on view of the dungeon entrance, where kaleidoscopic waves of light rippled across the gate.

It looked terrifyingly identical to the celestial eyes Eui-rim had seen during the regression ritual.

A breathtaking, otherworldly luminescence billowed forth, swallowing the gate whole.

[END of VOLUME 1]