Chapter 67

While finishing off the pastries Moonhyuk had procured, the others began openly sharing information about themselves. Even those who had harbored suspicions moments earlier warmed up, marveling at the revelation that he was the ‘Guild Master’s dining partner.’

Eui-rim wondered whether winning their trust over such a trivial thing made any sense… but to those who had watched Hae-gun for years, there seemed to be no proof more definitive. The simple fact that Hae-gun felt no aversion looking at Eui-rim carried immense weight.

Draining the rest of his coffee, Eui-rim glanced at the empty seat beside him. Hae-gun had stepped out moments ago, mentioning he had something to discuss privately with Lee Seonha.

“Eui-rim-ssi, what size do you usually wear?” Son Chaeyoon asked, snapping him from his thoughts as she laid out the suits.

“Size 100 for tops, and 30 for pants.”

“Then these should fit you well. Give them a try later.”

“Thank you.”

Touching the smooth, high-grade fabric, Eui-rim felt genuine gratitude. Even if it was customary for a guild to provide basic gear to affiliated hunters, preparing tailored equipment on such short notice was no small feat.

“By the way, what kind of weapon do you prefer?” Moonhyuk asked, leaning forward over the table.

“A weapon?”

“Yeah. Even if you’re a supporter, you need at least a secondary weapon to protect yourself in an emergency.”

“I used a short spear during the exam, but… I’m more accustomed to daggers or short swords.”

“Then I’ll ask the armory to prepare a standard hunter dagger for you.”

“That would be great. Thank you, Moonhyuk-ssi.”

“Eyy, just call me hyung like Sejun does! We’re all family here anyway.” Moonhyuk laughed heartily, clapping Eui-rim on the shoulder.

“Moonhyuk-oppa is always like this. Don’t mind him too much, Hunter Kang,” Na Yeojin said with a smirk.

“Yeojin-ssi, your skill earlier… is it really full replication?” Eui-rim asked, curious.

“Not entirely. I can replicate appearance and physical attributes up to ninety percent, but skills are capped depending on the rank difference. For high-tier skills, I can only copy a weakened version for a limited duration.”

“Still, being able to copy skills at all is incredible.”

“Well, it has plenty of restrictions. For instance, unique traits or mental skills with strong personal ownership can’t be copied at all. That’s why you and the Guild Master bounced my skill right off.”

She demonstrated by lightly tapping her temple. For a split second, her features morphed into Moonhyuk’s broad face before snapping back to her own.

“See? Like this.”

Unlike Hwang Sejun, Na Yeojin’s role had long been shrouded in mystery within Cheongho. No one on the outside knew what category of hunter she was or what skills she possessed. Since stealth was the only ability disclosed during her Association evaluation, wild rumors had always surrounded her.

“Still, is it all right to share this kind of information with me?” Eui-rim pressed, unable to let the point pass.

“The Guild Master already spilled the beans anyway.” Na Yeojin chuckled at the absurdity. “Honestly, I was shocked earlier. Even Sejun only found out a year after joining the guild.”

“And yet he just blurted it out without hesitation, so we figured he must have finished vetting you on his own without telling us.”

Hwang Sejun, sprawled across a beanbag, nodded in agreement. Tossing aside the cold compress pressed against his eyes, he looked toward Eui-rim with bloodshot pupils. The backlash from attempting 〈Truth Appraisal〉 earlier had yet to subside.

“No, but why didn’t he share that with us? If not for Moonhyuk-hyung, we wouldn’t have dreamed in a million years that you two were eating together.”

“As if the Guild Master keeping secrets is anything new. Just roll with it, kid,” Moonhyuk replied lazily.

“Ouch!”

Moonhyuk shut Hwang Sejun up with a sharp flick to the forehead. Stepping over to the table, he gestured toward Eui-rim’s wrist. Having spent time together in Jeju, his demeanor was far warmer and more familiar than the others.

“How’s the bruise?” Moonhyuk asked, leaning in to inspect Eui-rim’s wrist.

“Ah, yes. Better than before.” Rolling up his sleeve, Eui-rim revealed a faint mark where only a yellowish shadow remained. Thanks to the ointment Hae-gun had given him, the bruise had faded remarkably fast.

“Whoa, shit. That’s a real problem. Is it true even protective gear couldn’t hold up?”

Examining his wrist with visible dismay, Son Chaeyoon grimaced. Clicking her tongue, she called out to Hwang Sejun, who was still lounging on the beanbag.

“Hey, Sejun. You help him out. You turned into a proper person after the Guild Master’s special training, too.”

“Hyung, what are your stamina and strength stats?” Hwang Sejun asked.

“Hyung?”

Caught off guard by the abrupt form of address, Eui-rim repeated the word, making Hwang Sejun flush red instantly.

“Ah, well, um… May I call you hyung? I can’t stand stuffy titles like So-and-so-ssi or Hunter So-and-so… If I offended you, I’m really sorry. You’re probably already upset about earlier, and here I went and—”

“No. It’s fine. You can call me whatever’s comfortable.”

Cutting him off before the apologies could spiral, Eui-rim reassured him. He had simply been startled because it had been so long since anyone called him hyung. It wasn’t something to get upset over.

“And I truly don’t mind, so please don’t dwell on what happened earlier.” He glanced around the table. “That goes for everyone else as well.”

Eui-rim found it remarkable how they had all dropped their suspicions as if by unspoken agreement. Honestly, he had expected a barrage of questions the second Hae-gun left the room. Yet not a single probing inquiry came flying his way.

It was as though they were fully prepared to accept anyone who had earned Hae-gun’s trust. Seeing everyone welcome him so readily felt surreal.

Eui-rim turned to meet Hwang Sejun’s unabashed stare.

Looking at him like this, he really does seem like a kid. Setting aside my own regression, he looks so freshly stepped into adulthood that it’s almost disorienting.

Would Eui-jun have looked like this if he were still alive? Though he would have been younger than Sejun, of course.

Brushing aside the stray thought—and the quiet ache that came with it—Eui-rim answered the earlier question. “For reference, both my stamina and strength are at 4.”

“What about agility?” Hwang Sejun leaned in.

“Um… Give me a moment.”

Eui-rim wanted to answer immediately, but the exact number eluded him, prompting him to call up his status window. Having focused entirely on traits and skills, he hadn’t properly tracked his secondary stats.

Yet the moment he opened the interface, a startling anomaly greeted him. The skill slot, perfectly normal when he had checked it in the car, was flashing a vivid amber light like an emergency beacon.

The source of the illumination was unmistakable.

The notification connected to the 〈Lantern upon the Boundary〉 skill.

That damned guidebook was blinking furiously, demanding his undivided attention.

“Eui-rim-ssi, what’s wrong?” Moonhyuk called out, noticing his expression. But Eui-rim had no idea what to say. Why had the notification lit up, and what on earth did it signify? Even he couldn’t fathom it.

After hesitating for a moment, Eui-rim began, “No. It’s nothing, just the skill window suddenly lit—”

Beeee-eeep!

At that exact second, a piercing siren ripped through the room. Startled by the blaring alarm echoing simultaneously from every phone, Eui-rim hastily checked his screen. An emergency disaster alert—one he hadn’t seen in years—filled the display.

“This…” Eui-rim breathed.

With the alert sounding, everyone’s eyes locked onto their phones in stunned disbelief. Eui-rim glanced across the frozen room before looking back at his status window, which had ceased its frantic flashing.

Could it have foreseen this and tried to warn me?

Now, instead of flashing erratically, the notification settled into a steady golden glow. Like an activated trait or a skill ready for deployment, it burned placidly in a distinct hue.

“Eui-rim-ssi.”

Just then, the conference room door swung open. As the clamorous sirens finally subsided into heavy silence, Hae-gun stepped inside alongside Lee Seonha.

“We just got word from the Association. The rescue team fell victim to the debuff as well.”

Eui-rim couldn’t even bring himself to mention the status window anomaly or the disaster alert.

Hae-gun’s grim announcement emptied Eui-rim’s mind completely, leaving his lips parted in wordless shock.

Sweeping his gaze across the frozen room, Hae-gun ran a hand through his hair. “They say the entrance opened, but the rescue team hasn’t emerged.”

“Then…”

As Eui-rim caught his breath, momentarily speechless, Lee Seonha let out a heavy sigh from beside the Guild Master. “It appears the entire rescue squad has fallen.”

“…”

“Even Hunter Yoo Tae-geun.” Lee Seonha’s voice was barely above a whisper, but the name drained whatever warmth remained in the room.

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