Chapter 53

Through a pounding headache that felt as if his skull had cracked, he barely managed to summon his status window. The text that had seared across his vision moments earlier was etched there verbatim. From the 〈Pathfinder〉 trait to the skill bequeathed by the 〈Seo Hae-gun〉 of his past life, everything was laid bare—undeniable proof that it had been no hallucination.

“I called for you repeatedly, but there wasn’t a sound. I wondered what the hell had happened.”

Eui-rim’s vacant gaze snapped upward at the low voice. Through the daze, he saw a towering silhouette framed against the harsh overhead fluorescent lights, casting a long, protective shadow over him.

“What is wrong with you?” Hae-gun demanded, his voice dropping dangerously low.

Ah. Right. Seo Hae-gun was supposed to pick me up.

“…Seo Hae-gun-ssi.”

The moment Eui-rim whispered his name, Hae-gun’s bewildered frown darkened into a harsh grimace. His blue-gray eyes narrowed sharply, and dropping to one knee, he lowered himself until they were level.

“When—” A dry cough wracked Eui-rim’s throat mid-sentence. “—when did you get here?”

“Just now. You weren’t answering, so…” Hae-gun’s voice trailed off as his gaze swept the stall.

Eui-rim glanced at the mangled door.

Did he tear the steel door off with his bare hands? What terrifying physical strength.

Wait, doesn’t this need to be repaired? How are we supposed to pay for the damages?

“I’m sorry.”

Since this wreckage was the direct result of his collapse, apologizing was the only polite course. He should have held on to consciousness so Hae-gun wouldn’t have been forced to tear the partition apart.

“I only meant to rest my eyes for a second… I must have drifted off.”

“You didn’t fall asleep. You passed out cold,” Hae-gun countered flatly.

“…”

“Look at me. Lift your face.”

When Hae-gun reached forward, Eui-rim reflexively flinched back—but the retreat was futile. Hae-gun’s large hand cupped his chin with unyielding firmness.

“You said it was just a nosebleed,” Hae-gun murmured, his eyes locking onto the blood-soaked tissues crumpled on the floor.

“Well, yes. One thing led to another, and I… bled a little.”

“This isn’t anywhere close to ‘bleeding a little.’”

A calloused thumb brushed firmly across Eui-rim’s philtrum, scraping over his parted lips until crusted blood flaked away like fine powder. Hae-gun gently traced the seam of his lower lip before his fingers trailed along the curve of his jaw, meticulously examining every crimson smudge staining his pale skin.

Unsettled by the intimate friction, Eui-rim tried to pull back, but the fingers cradling his jaw tightened. The hold was careful, yet utterly unyielding.

In the suffocating silence of the stall, their mingling breaths blurred together. When the thumb stroking his lips finally withdrew, Hae-gun’s gaze darkened into an intense, unreadable abyss.

“…Can you stand?” Hae-gun asked softly.

The stifling tension finally broke, allowing Eui-rim to exhale the breath trapped in his chest. He extended a trembling hand toward Hae-gun.

“I’d appreciate some help,” Eui-rim whispered.

“Want me to carry you on my back?”

“No, that won’t be necessary—”

Before he could finish declining, Hae-gun’s hands slid under his arms and hoisted him upright as easily as lifting a child. Jolted by the sudden ascent, Eui-rim clutched at Hae-gun’s broad shoulders for balance.

“Never mind the excuses. We’re heading straight to the emergency room. I’ll hear your explanation after you’re treated.”

“I’m fine,” Eui-rim protested weakly. “I just need a little rest. It’s only an overload from mana depletion.”

Perhaps because they were pressed so close together in such a cramped space, a tight tension weighed heavily on Eui-rim’s chest. Every inhale and exhale felt uncomfortably pronounced, and the warmth of Seo Hae-gun’s breath against his cheek was vivid.

When Eui-rim pushed against his chest, Hae-gun’s brow furrowed. Thoroughly displeased, Hae-gun took half a step back.

In the end, it was Seo Hae-gun who stepped back first. That unyielding, broad-shouldered frame finally separated from him and moved out of the narrow stall.

“It’ll probably be faster for you to see it yourself,” Hae-gun said bluntly. “What state you’re actually in.”

Seo Hae-gun pulled Eui-rim toward the sink and pointed at the mirror, having judged that showing him his reflection was faster than trying to persuade him with words.

“Can you still claim you’re fine after seeing this?” Hae-gun demanded.

That judgment was spot-on. The moment Eui-rim saw the frightful reflection staring back at him, he gasped inwardly in shock.

Damn it. Looking at it like this, it’s straight out of a horror movie.

A groan slipped past Eui-rim’s lips at the thought of confronting Hae-gun in such a state. His face was blotched and smeared with dried blood.

Dried blood was crusted around his nose, mouth, and jaw, trailing down the column of his neck. It was a marvel that Seo Hae-gun had managed to remain as calm as he had upon seeing it.

When Eui-rim stood frozen, unable to utter a word, Seo Hae-gun clicked his tongue and swept his bangs back. “Going to a healer won’t do any good anyway, so at least get treated here before we leave.”

“…” Eui-rim had no retort.

“If you don’t want that, take a potion in the car,” Hae-gun added. “You’re running a fever, too.”

“A fever?” Eui-rim blinked.

Eui-rim hurriedly pressed a hand to his forehead, but all he felt was skin slick with cold sweat. Strange. I don’t feel like I have a fever.

Isn’t it just that Seo Hae-gun’s hands are cooler than most people’s, making mine seem hot by comparison?

“I can’t really tell,” Eui-rim murmured.

“Right. I knew you’d answer like that,” Hae-gun countered. “You have a fever right now, Eui-rim-ssi. And if you ask me, your temperature seems pretty damn high.”

“Mmh.” Eui-rim pressed his lips together.

Just brilliant. I can’t even regulate my body temperature properly. With a body like this, how am I supposed to clear a dungeon?

Turning over that self-deprecating lament, a dry scoff rose in his throat. Eui-rim gave an awkward tug to the corner of his lips, then turned on the tap and began splashing water over his face. He couldn’t stay in this restroom forever; he had to clean up this gruesome mess.

“It’s not some skill that numbs your senses instead of a mental barrier, is it?” Hae-gun asked.

“Pardon?” Eui-rim asked through dripping water.

As Eui-rim scrubbed vigorously at the bloodstains, Seo Hae-gun watched him through the mirror and elaborated. “I mean, think about it. No matter how drained of mana someone is, people aren’t usually this unfazed. Especially when you were collapsed on the floor without the strength to even stand…”

Trailing off momentarily, Hae-gun wore a crooked smile. His narrowed eyes and the raised corner of his mouth were an intricate jumble of annoyance, exasperation, and sheer disbelief.

“Well, whatever,” Hae-gun muttered.

The inscrutable expression quickly smoothed back into its usual composure. Reaching forward to shut off the faucet in Eui-rim’s stead, Seo Hae-gun said, “It’s a fact that you have a fever, so let’s at least get some antipyretics prescribed before we leave.”

With that, Hae-gun’s broad palm rose and pressed flat against Eui-rim’s forehead. It happened in an instant, before Eui-rim could even think to pull away.

The refusal he had intended to utter—that he was truly fine, that they could just leave—never made it past his lips. Catching Hae-gun’s gaze through the mirror, Eui-rim felt the words dry up in his throat.

What on earth is… this feeling?

Though he had called Seo Hae-gun because he lacked the strength to move, being on the receiving end of such genuine concern left Eui-rim at a complete loss. Perhaps because he hadn’t experienced this kind of tender attentiveness since his parents passed away, he had no idea how to respond.

…Refusing his goodwill any further wouldn’t be polite either.

The man wasn’t just anyone; he was the Guild Master of Cheongho. Calling someone treated with more reverence than most deities a liar felt impossible.

Leaving Seo Hae-gun’s hand where it rested was driven purely by that logical conclusion. It was absolutely not because the cool palm felt soothing against his burning temples.

His reflection in the mirror was flushed pink, likely from scrubbing his skin so vigorously. Or perhaps from washing with cold water for too long? Whatever the cause, his cheeks burned far hotter than before.

Pretending to wipe away the remaining droplets, Eui-rim turned his head, and Hae-gun’s hand fell away a beat later. Striving to steady his voice, Eui-rim asked where they were heading next.

A broad-knuckled, cool hand.

Those firm, calloused fingertips still felt as if they were lingering on his skin, leaving behind a subtle tickle that refused to fade.

Seo Hae-gun’s efficiency was remarkably swift. Mentioning that he knew someone on the hospital staff, he placed a brief call and escorted Eui-rim straight to the emergency room.

The fortunate part was that for a body immune to healing skills, pharmaceutical medicine worked exceptionally well. Even after his stubborn refusal to lie down in an ER bed resulted in an intramuscular injection instead of an IV drip, the antipyretic took effect almost immediately.

Looking down at the bag of prescription medicine in his lap, Eui-rim swallowed a sigh. How long had it been since he had been given this much medication? Ever since awakening as a healer, he hadn’t caught so much as a mild cold, so middle school had probably been the last time.

Come to think of it, between this and the bruise ointment from Jeju Island, this body is truly peculiar. Healing skills failed on him, yet ordinary medical drugs were remarkably effective. Usually, for Awakened, it was the exact opposite.

Of course, these pharmaceuticals had been developed specifically for New Humanity, but compared to healing skills or potions, their effects were considered modest. For hunters ranked A-rank or above, they were practically negligible—though Awakened of that caliber possessed more than enough innate regeneration anyway.