Hero Hunter is on Parental Leave C57

Chapter 57

Yeongung entered Jaehee’s mental world.

‘Understanding the child’s true feelings—and clearing up any misunderstandings—is the most important thing.’

‘Hero, rather than talking about yourself, please listen to the child’s story.’

‘Children often see, hear, and feel things adults never anticipate.’

Recalling Bertrand’s advice once more, Yeongung slowly looked around.

A lush green meadow, a sturdy castle visible in the distance, forests filled with beautiful flowers and plants.

Jaehee’s subconscious looked like a vast storybook dream garden.

And far away—Creamie appeared.

The baby snow leopard Yeongung had often encountered when Jaehee was still in his womb.

What was different now was that Creamie could speak.

The child stared at his reflection in a pond and muttered to himself.

“I don’t want to grow up. Jaehee wants to stay a baby forever.”

The ears that usually perked up whenever he saw Yeongung now drooped sadly. Wanting to hear more, Yeongung quieted his footsteps and approached slowly.

“If I stay a baby, Dad will be happy. That’s why I don’t want to grow up.”

As the distance closed, Yeongung noticed a fully bloomed sunflower standing opposite the snow leopard. Creamie hadn’t been talking to himself—he’d been talking to the sunflower.

The sunflower seemed uninterested, nodding off. Creamie lifted a paw and touched its yellow petals, then looked up at the setting sun.

“Is it because the sun’s going down? You’re sleepy already.”

Creamie’s long tail curled around his chubby body as he grew even more dejected. He settled beside the drooping sunflower and lay down.

“Sunflower, I’ll watch over you while you sleep. So when the sun comes back up, you’ll listen to Dad’s story again, okay? Promise Jaehee.”

The sunflower’s petals shifted—almost as if it truly understood and agreed.

Creamie groomed himself for a while, then his big eyes slowly blinked shut.

“Hmnya…”

After rubbing his eyes with his paws, the baby snow leopard fell asleep beside the sunflower.

Perhaps it had rained the night before. Dew clung to the dense greenery, dripping softly to the ground. Worried the child might catch a cold, Yeongung took off his outerwear and moved to cover Creamie—

“Who are you? Don’t touch him.”

A cautious voice stopped him.

Thin, delicate, and soft.

“He’s only just fallen asleep after suffering from growing pains these days.”

Growing pains…?

Turning toward the voice, Yeongung saw a strangely familiar girl.

“And who… are you?”

“Who are you, mister?”

“Ah—Tintinping…!”

Twin ponytails tied high, curious violet eyes.

She was Tintinping, the heroine from Jaehee’s favorite series.

But tilting her head at Yeongung’s reaction, the girl introduced herself with a completely different name.

“Tintinping? My name’s Miha. Mi. Ha.”

Bright and articulate, Miha looked Yeongung up and down with interest.

“You’re the first adult who’s ever come here. Since I told you my name, you should tell me yours too!”

“My name is Yeongung. You can just call me ‘mister.’ Are you Jaehee’s friend? I’m Jaehee’s dad.”

“You’re Jaehee’s dad?”

Resentment flickered in Miha’s star-bright purple eyes.

“Then why did you only come now? We waited for you every single night…”

“You… waited for me?”

“Jaehee only looked for you. He barely played with us—he only cared about his dad.”

Yeongung felt the illusion shatter. He’d thought he’d poured all his love into his child—but it had been his own misunderstanding. Disappointment in himself mixed with guilt toward Jaehee.

“…I see. Then could you tell me how Jaehee lives here?”

“Sure!”

Miha was delighted to be of help to Jaehee’s father.

“Thank you. But there’s something you said earlier that worries me…”

“What is it?”

“You mentioned ‘growing pains.’ Is Jaehee… sick?”

“Ah… that is…”

Seeing her hesitate, Yeongung gently urged her.

“It’s okay. Please tell me honestly.”

“…You promise it stays a secret? Jaehee might hate me if he finds out.”

“I promise.”

Reassured by Yeongung’s kindness, Miha finally spoke.

“Jaehee is a hero’s child, so he’s supposed to grow much faster than other kids. But that stubborn kid refuses to grow and is forcibly stopping it.”

Defying natural law like that likely tied back to the ability Jaehee gained in the rift—‘Wish’.

Yeongung judged that Jaehee’s power, converted into rank terms, would be at least S-rank.

Miha picked up acorns along the forest path and stacked them like a small stone tower as she continued.

“Growing pains usually happen when kids grow too fast. But Jaehee is suppressing growth instead, so the pain is even worse. He can’t sleep properly.”

In reality, Jaehee slept nearly two-thirds of the day—including naps.

Yet in his mental world, he was suffering from insomnia.

Looking at Creamie sleeping peacefully beside the sunflower, Yeongung’s eyes welled with tears.

“Jaehee…”

Miha raised a finger to her lips and shook her head gently. She didn’t want to wake her friend.

Taking Yeongung’s hand, she pointed toward the deep forest.

“Come with me. I’ll show you how Jaehee lives here.”

Inside the sturdy castle at the center of the garden were countless rooms, each tied to Jaehee’s memories.

The Muhaedo beach where he played sandcastles with Yeongung.

The Tintinping mobile Won Iheun had given him.

Even Jaehee’s favorite pacifier.

Each room was themed after a single memory.

“During the day, we play in the forest. When the sun sets, we come back to the castle and sleep in whichever room Jaehee likes that day.”

Chatting nonstop, Miha stopped in front of the innermost room.

Yeongung knew immediately.

This room belonged to him.

“This is…”

Creeeak.

The door opened—and Yeongung couldn’t speak.

Inside was a large bird’s nest woven from straw.

Curled inside, sleeping while hugging white orbs, was Creamie.

Smiling. Crying.

Each orb held an image of Yeongung as seen through Jaehee’s eyes.

“He really is hopeless. The forest guardian Graphin must’ve moved him here.”

Dark clouds pressed against the window, signaling incoming rain.

Though Yeongung didn’t know who the guardian was, he felt grateful—someone had protected Jaehee from the storm.

“Miha… does Jaehee always sleep like this?”

“…Mostly. Sometimes he sleeps in other rooms, but usually here. And he doesn’t let anyone touch those memory orbs.”

“Thank you for telling me.”

After gently patting Miha’s head, Yeongung approached the nest.

Suddenly, Jaehee stirred, groaning softly.

“It hurts… hurts…”

Yeongung’s heart felt like it was tearing apart.

He rushed to Jaehee’s side and immediately cast Heal.

White light poured from his hands as he massaged the snow leopard’s waist and paws.

He hadn’t known if his mana would work in a mental world—but thankfully, it did.

The pain eased. The furrowed brow relaxed.

Jaehee opened his eyes.

“Dad…?”

“Yeah. Dad’s here.”

“Dad!”

With a bright smile, the baby snow leopard leapt forward. Yeongung fell back into the nest, hugging his child tightly.

Overjoyed to meet his father in his own world, Jaehee licked Yeongung’s face.

“Hahaha—hey, baby, that tickles!”

Miha watched the pair with a sulky expression.

“Hmph. I guess I’m invisible now?”

“Miha! Did you bring Dad here?”

“…Y-yeah!”

She didn’t know how Yeongung had entered Jaehee’s inner world—but faced with those sparkling eyes, she puffed up and took credit.

“Miha, I like you!”

Jaehee wagged his tail and beamed. Miha covered her reddened face with her hands.

“Ugh! A-anyway, my job’s done—so I’m leaving!”

The shy girl bolted from the room.

Yeongung watched his extraordinary son with a complicated gaze. Already stealing hearts with just a smile—what would happen when he grew up?

“Dad! Dad!”

Unaware of those worries, Jaehee pressed closer. Yeongung set aside future anxieties and gently scratched the snow leopard’s forehead.

“Does that feel good?”

Touched where his tongue couldn’t reach, Jaehee purred happily.

Yeongung laid him back down and carefully checked for any lingering pain.