Hero Hunter is on Parental Leave C40

Chapter 40

The aura blade blessed by the master blacksmith dwarf pierced straight into the heart of the core.

Crack—!

At the precise moment fissures spread across the blackened surface—where the blade had flexibly altered its form to avoid harming the girl—Yeongung drove it even deeper. The A-rank mutated monster resisted fiercely against the radiance of light-infused aura. As expected, the status window had been corrupted. To classify a creature like this as C-rank—what a farce.

Channeling his mana into the sword, Yeongung cast a spherical shield around Moon-jung, who was gasping for breath. Within the core, a small sanctuary formed for the frail girl, and he could feel her exhausted heart fluttering—delicate as a fledgling bird’s. For emergency treatment, Yeongung tipped a potion into her mouth.

What other Hunters would have praised as a complex, multi-layered skill combination, Yeongung executed as naturally as water flowing. This was not something one could achieve merely by possessing a high Hunter rank; it was mastery honed through decades of experience.

Once Moon-jung’s safety was secured, he imbued the blade with flames.

“Burn to cinders.”

To destroy an A-rank monster’s core, half-measures of heat would never suffice. Yeongung unleashed temperatures as searing as nine-hundred-degree magma, and at last the core—unable to withstand it—began to rupture from within.

The Venus flytrap’s core shattered completely, blood-red fluid splattering in every direction. Yeongung wiped the liquid from his face with the sleeve of his outerwear.

“Ah. This thing’s a real bastard.”

Hiss—.

The corrosive fluid ate straight through the fabric, leaving holes behind. Knowing full well that everything Won Iheun wore was exorbitantly expensive, Yeongung muttered with a crestfallen expression.

“How much is this going to cost? He’s not going to make me pay for it, right?”

He truly had become a household manager, raising a child on his own.

Without lowering the spherical shield enveloping the girl, he moved directly toward the boulder where the others had taken refuge. The closer Yeongung and Moon-jung drew, the louder the middle-aged woman’s sobs grew. Seeing her daughter alive with her own eyes, the guardian clutched the rock and wailed—crying openly like a child.

“I told you to smile.”

“M-mom…!”

Tears streamed down Moon-jung’s eyes as she spotted her mother. Yeongung worried the weak child might exhaust herself from crying.

“H-hic… Mister Hunter, thank you.”

He returned Moon-jung’s gratitude with a warm smile.

“No need to thank me. Saving good kids like you is my job.”

After hesitating briefly, the girl asked in a subdued voice,

“My mom cried a lot again because of me, didn’t she?”

“……”

“She’s silly. She always says it’s her fault I’m sick—even though it’s not.”

The depth of the child’s words, spoken with such concern for her mother, tightened Yeongung’s chest.

“Mister, I like it better when my mom smiles prettily instead of crying where I can’t see. When she smiles, even painful treatments don’t hurt at all.”

With a pallid, illness-worn face, the girl spoke her heart with effort. Her smile hurt to look at—and it kept reminding Yeongung of his own son, Jaehee.

“Little one… actually, my son is sick too. Well—doctors say he isn’t, but there’s a condition we don’t understand yet, and it worries me.”

Moon-jung listened and looked as though the pain were her own.

“And I think it might be because of me too… That’s why I understand your mom better than anyone.”

To Yeongung’s bitter confession, Moon-jung gently scolded him.

“Then you’re silly too. Just cherish and love him. Time is too precious to waste on blaming yourself and being sad.”

At last they reached the boulder, and Yeongung released the sturdy shield. The woman stretched out her thin arms to catch her daughter as she fell into her embrace. As Moon-jung landed safely, she looked back at Yeongung.

“I don’t know much, but it’s not your fault. And to my mom, you’re an angel who gave Moon-jung back to her.”

For some reason, Yeongung felt like crying.

Screeech—!

At that moment, an ominous tearing sound rang out across the Gate’s sky. A man appeared, ripping through the dimension itself. With a nose meant only for Yeongung, Won Iheun had once again found him.

“Hunter Yeongung—!”

This Gate was hardly difficult enough to defeat him—yet the desperation in Iheun’s outstretched hand was unmistakable.

The advice of a frail yet stronger-than-anyone girl echoed in Yeongung’s ears.

Time is too precious to waste.

After awakening from his coma, Yeongung had doubted and mistrusted Iheun’s changed behavior.

But now—none of that mattered. Even if he had changed, Yeongung’s love had not. Rather than wasting time on doubt, he would simply love Iheun more. And more.

“Won Iheun…”

Yeongung soared upward toward the man descending to him.

“You bastard—you’re late.”

With a dazzling smile, he reached out both arms. And seeing Iheun freeze at that smile, Yeongung thought—

Just like the girl returning to her mother’s arms, he too wanted to be held quickly in that safe, gentle embrace.

Won Iheun strode ahead through the dimensional corridor, with Yeongung following close behind. For someone who had been desperate to find him moments ago, Iheun now walked with his back turned, silent and unreadable.

“How did you find me? That speed was insane.”

Having already forgotten his complaint about Iheun being late, Yeongung grew curious about how he’d been found so quickly. Just as the universe held hundreds of billions of planets, the Gates created by the system were countless—open Gates, destroyed Gates, dormant Gates waiting to awaken. And yet Iheun had torn through all those possibilities to reach the exact corridor Yeongung occupied.

But the man who had made such a dramatic entrance through the Gate’s sky said nothing.

“Won Iheun. Master. Guild Leader.”

Frustrated by the silence, Yeongung called him the way he had back when they were both young.

“Iheun.”

Won Iheun stopped dead.

“Iheun,” Yeongung said again, to his rigid back.

Hah—

Exhaling deeply, Iheun dragged a large hand down his face.

“That’s cheating.”

“Huh?”

“Calling me that… when I’m trying so hard to hold it together.”

As Yeongung stepped closer, he saw ears redder than ripe tomatoes.

And then Iheun said—

“From now on, smile only in front of me. Understood?”

“Pff—hahaha!”

Yeongung burst out laughing at the absurd demand.

“Everyone, look away.”

At their Master’s command, the guild members—who had been silently observing—averted their eyes.

“Behave yourselves. Unless you want me to tear open another corridor and toss you in as monster feed.”

When Iheun snapped his fingers, they turned stiffly, like malfunctioning robots. Their Master was a man who always followed through.

“Haha—stop terrorizing the kids.”

“I told you to smile only in front of me. Is laughing even harder in front of them a form of rebellion?”

“Even if I smile with my real face, they wouldn’t care. Do you think this plain, blurred look of mine would catch their attention?”

“…You really have no idea who you are.”

Thinking him overly dramatic, Yeongung stepped up beside him.

“Don’t walk ahead alone. I’m tired of looking at your back.”

The easy intimacy of their exchange made the guild members trade loaded glances.

Hey… what is this?

Master and Vice-Master—are they like that?

Wait, aren’t they both Alphas?

One teammate with telepathic abilities relayed everyone’s thoughts.

“Oh—right. This is expensive, isn’t it?”

Yeongung pulled off Iheun’s tattered outerwear. Iheun’s gaze lingered on Yeongung’s pale forearms before he swiftly draped it back over him.

“The Venus flytrap stinks. I don’t want to wear it.”

Ignoring the protest, Iheun removed his own uniform jacket and put it on Yeongung instead.

“It’s chilly. You’ll catch a cold.”

At the word chilly, the team’s telepathy erupted.

Chilly, my ass.

Guild Leader, what? It’s sweltering from Gate destruction heat.

Do cold-blooded types radiate lower temperatures?

…No idea. But my side feels freezing for some reason.

The guild members found it hard to believe—and yet deeply envied—the sweet romance between the two people they served, the leaders of the No. 1-ranked Tako Guild.

Wasn’t there a no-office-romance rule?

Even if there was, the Guild Leader could just delete it.

Right—he’s dating the one person who could never oppose him.

…

Silence followed—unarguable.

Let’s do a group meet with the Kesadia Guild.

Are you insane? The No. 2 guild?

Didn’t Kesadia name themselves to “Take Down Tako”? Total anti-Tako.

…

Silence again.

After escorting the patients back, let’s get drinks.

…Fuck. Why do I suddenly feel so bitter?

Noticing the sudden gloom, Yeongung tilted his head.

“The noisy ones are awfully quiet today.”

“You don’t need to worry about that. Don’t you miss Jaehee?”

Smoothly, Iheun redirected Yeongung’s attention to their child.

“Jaehee…! Of course I miss him like crazy. Thinking about that clingy kid crying because his dad’s gone—”

“If Hunter Yeongung heard that, he might feel slighted. The child is playing well with Director Lee Chahyeon. Not a single tantrum.”

“What!?”

Who’s Jaehee?

Did you hear ‘clingy’ and ‘dad’?

They already have a kid?

…So Vice-Master Yeongung is an Omega!?

Everyone knew Won Iheun was an extreme Alpha—a rarity even among Alphas. The conclusion the team reached was inevitable.

Then their telepathic channel was overridden by a deep, heavy voice.

What do you think will happen if anything you heard or saw today gets shared outside?

Startled, one member answered aloud without thinking.

“I’ll keep my mouth shut!”

A teammate elbowed him sharply in the side.

Surveying their discipline with satisfaction, Iheun tossed them a black card.

“Use this to buy drinks.”

The team didn’t exchange thoughts this time—but all of them thought the same thing.

He heard everything. We’re fucked.