Hero Hunter is on Parental Leave C60

Chapter 60

“Stop clinging so much.”

Not missing even that brief opening, the man slipped his hand inside Yeongung’s shirt and toyed with his flat abdomen. Yeongung liked Won Iheun’s frank displays of affection and skinship—but at the same time, they made him uneasy. Years of one-sided love had left him with low romantic confidence.

On top of that, Yeongung had no dating experience. Even with Iheun, it was hard to say they were having a normal relationship.

Their bodies had come first as sex partners. Then came the child. And it hadn’t been long since they’d truly recognized their feelings for each other. Sometimes, Yeongung couldn’t tell whether the speed and temperature of this love were right.

“Won Iheun… aren’t you tired of me? People say marriage and having a kid makes things different from dating.”

Marriage.

Even though Yeongung had brought it up himself, the word struck his chest sharply.

Because of the unresolved system restriction, and everything that had followed, they still hadn’t formally married. And Jaehee was officially registered under Yeongung’s name.

Restriction. Marriage. Registration.

Laying out the piled-up issues made their present happiness feel like a beautiful glass vase—shiny, fragile, and liable to shatter at any moment.

Iheun draped an arm around Yeongung’s shoulders.

“Yeongung Hunter, you watched another weird program again, didn’t you?”

“Ah… the one with the highest ratings. Was it Everyone’s Single?”

“Stop watching shows full of villains and look at me during that time.”

The extremely dominant alpha lifted Yeongung—who was over 180 cm tall—clean off the ground. Yeongung flailed, briefly considering dumping him into the sea with mana, before giving up and wrapping his arms around Iheun’s neck.

If only he were small like other omegas, maybe they’d look picture-perfect together.

Hiding his conflicted face against Iheun’s shoulder, Yeongung felt a large hand slowly stroke down his back.

“Your only flaw is that you think too much.”

Waves crept closer. The tide would come in soon. Supporting Yeongung beneath the thigh, Iheun walked forward without caring that his feet were getting wet.

“My seat is Yeongung Hunter’s, and your seat is mine. No other exchange is valid.”

Perhaps because of past regrets, Iheun had tried to give Yeongung only clear answers since confessing the restriction.

“And the only dick that can satisfy Yeongung Hunter’s obscene hole is mine.”

Yeongung pinched the fingers drifting toward an intimate place.

“Shut up, you pervert.”

Iheun smiled crookedly at the hand covering his mouth.

“Where did the boldness go—the day you came demanding I take responsibility?”

“Hey! Don’t bring that up, it’s embarrassing!”

Just imagining it made Yeongung want to tear his hair out. The movement made his oversized shirt slip off one shoulder, revealing a straight shoulder line and the sleeveless shirt underneath.

But Iheun’s gaze wasn’t on the pale shoulder—or the clinging fabric.

It was fixed on Yeongung’s clean underarm.

Startled, Yeongung yanked his shirt back up to cover the smooth, hairless skin. Iheun clicked his tongue regretfully.

For a moment, a filthy memory surfaced—of Iheun once indulging in that very place like penetration. The lewd recollection made Yeongung slick with heat. He hadn’t been this sensitive before; childbirth had clearly heightened his responsiveness. Afraid his body would betray him, Yeongung squeezed his thighs together.

“Fuck.”

Iheun’s rough curse made Yeongung flinch.

“Let’s leave Jaehee with Hamgyeol for a bit and rest.”

“Out of nowhere?”

“Your pheromones are all over this beach. Strong enough to drown out the sea.”

Maybe his excitement had leaked some pheromones. Yeongung couldn’t smell his own, but Iheun’s stinging alpha scent told him plenty.

“Anyway…”

Even if it was an amount Sanghui—another alpha—couldn’t detect, Iheun adjusted their distance, unwilling to share a single trace of Yeongung with anyone.

“…It’s still amazing how you react to just a handful of my pheromones.”

Iheun had turned a half-omega—someone most mistook for an alpha—into a complete omega. In front of him, the extremely heat-resistant Yeongung surpassed even extreme-dominant omegas.

Proof enough: Iheun had chased that thread-thin pheromone all the way to Muhaedo and claimed what he wanted.

Yeongung brushed wind-tousled hair back from Iheun’s face. Light brown strands sparkled in the sun. Tracing the classic, timeless beauty of his features, Yeongung smoothed the stubborn crease between his brows and called softly,

“Won Iheun.”

Iheun looked down at the omega wriggling in his arms, conflicted. Supreme as he was, before Yeongung he was nothing but a beggar—starving for scent, for breath.

The lowered lashes, the dimple when he smiled, the hesitant touch—Yeongung had no idea what they did to him.

While Iheun devoured him with his eyes, Yeongung indirectly brought up the restriction.

“You’ve been busy traveling with the doctor. Must be exhausting.”

Because of the system, they couldn’t speak openly about it. Yeongung could only guess that Iheun’s frequent trips with Dr. Richmond were related.

He wanted to ask about progress—but memories of blood and collapse stopped him. Iheun would answer even if it killed him. Yeongung never wanted to see him like that again.

“Trust me.”

That single word was enough. Whether it took a year or ten—trusting and waiting was the best Yeongung could do.

Iheun kissed his eyelids.

“I know.”

The system, which mimicked human behavior and speech, had overlooked one thing:

Implicit communication.

Even if language was restricted, it could not crush human will. Trust, firmly built, would not waver before trials.

Looking up at the cloudless sky, Yeongung murmured like a spell:

“System. This will be your loss.”

“Yeongung hyung! Look over there!”

“Master! That way!”

“Waaah!”

Three people playing in the wet sand pointed at once.

From the sea, dolphins leapt again and again. Yeongung slipped from Iheun’s arms. The pod swam close enough to be seen clearly from shore.

“To see dolphins—the guardians of luck, success, and love—in person…”

“Are you that happy?”

“Just… feels like they’ll bring good fortune.”

Iheun caught Yeongung before he wandered closer. The tide was rising fast.

“Bastard, aren’t you amazed? Or am I being childish?”

Yeongung narrowed his eyes and infused mana into his vision.

“Wait…”

The playful pod scattered—leaving only two behind. A mother and her calf. The mother circled the calf, who floated weakly.

The calf’s tail twitched faintly.

“Shit…!”

Discarded fishing net was tangled around it.

Yeongung ran across the water.

The mother pressed her head to Yeongung’s arm—as if begging. She knew he wouldn’t harm them.

Trrk.

Yeongung severed the net.

Freed, the calf tested its lightened tail, then circled Yeongung, crying joyfully.

Mother and child leapt together, spinning midair. A rainbow arched over the waves. Hamgyeol lifted his camera, desperate to capture the moment.

Wrapped in a blanket, Jaehee watched from Sanghui’s arms.

“Dad! Dad! Daaad!”

Flying in on telekinesis, Iheun carried Jaehee toward Yeongung—careful not to startle him. It was the child’s first flight; his eyes went wide with wonder.

Yeongung smiled warmly. He’d known Jaehee wouldn’t be afraid.

After all, he was a brave little hero—who’d faced Miha, Graphin, and the forest together.

Under the rainbow, Yeongung and Iheun kissed their child’s cheeks. Jaehee’s plump face wiggled as he laughed.

The dolphins jumped again, welcoming their benefactors. Fireworks burst in the child’s eyes.

It was the happiest day of Baby Yeong Jaehee’s life.