Chapter 12

“Are you insane!?”

Caught off guard by the unexpected situation, Yeongung snapped, his voice rising sharply. His expression darkened as he gripped the boy’s slender jaw to examine the injury.

Spitting harshly onto the dirt—ptuh!—Iheun turned thug-like for a moment. A streak of red mixed with saliva suggested the mucosa inside his mouth had split.

But the boy, unconcerned with his own injury, pushed Yeongung’s hand away and spoke with the calmness of someone for whom such violence meant nothing.

“Please. Don’t fuss. It’s nothing.”

Then he strode toward the team leader, tilting his head with insolent defiance, and spoke in rude casual speech.

“Mister. Answer.”

“W-what? Who the hell is this brat!? Yeongung, is he someone you know?”

Yeongung looked at the agitated, finger-pointing team leader with a troubled expression.

“Shit… things just got complicated.”

The team leader was the sort who despised talented young Hunters, who found promising sprouts to be eyesores—and took pleasure in crushing them until they could never rise again.

Physically, Yeongung vastly outclassed him, but political power was a different matter. Yeongung had long since fallen out of favor not only with this team leader but with many key figures in the Association.

According to his old friend Lee Chahyeon’s intel network, one of the Ten Heads—the highest authorities within the Association—was blocking Yeongung’s advancement. Somehow, the team leader had caught wind of this and seized every opportunity to nitpick and sabotage him.

S-Rank Hunters were rare and exceptional, but not irreplaceable. Without backing, without wealth, without influence, Yeongung needed something greater to oppose the hidden hand working against him.

The pinnacle of all Hunters: the Absolute.

That was Yeongung’s ultimate goal.

An Absolute operated independently, unbound by any governing structure. No interference, no chains. That was why he clenched his teeth and trained brutally, even when everything felt unbearable.

“Ugh, I’m avoiding him because he’s filthy, not because he’s scary. Once I earn the Title, the first thing I’ll do is slit that pig’s throat.”

Muttering darkly, Yeongung stepped between the two.

Pow—!

With mana gathered in his palm, he tapped the team leader’s chest. The man’s body launched backward, flying a surprising distance.

Landing in a sand pit, the team leader choked and sputtered. Yeongung subtly nudged him further into a muddy zone. It seemed to be a monster latrine—foul decomposition stench filled the air. Covered in monstrous dung, the team leader shrieked.

“—Aaaagh! Fuck, it’s shit!”

To keep the man from memorizing the boy’s face, Yeongung pulled Iheun close and hid him behind his back. With such a striking face, forgetting him seemed unlikely, but he tried anyway.

“Enough. Stop picking on a kid who came here just to help. I’ll talk to him.”

Yeongung emphasized kid deliberately, hoping to prick the conscience of the team members and sway public sentiment toward the boy.

“⋯I mean, didn’t he find the hideout and help catch the criminal?”

“Exactly. Why’s the team leader throwing another tantrum? God… I just wanna go home.”

“Seriously embarrassing, picking on a minor.”

Yeongung hauled the team leader out of the mire. As soon as he shook off the sticky muck, nearby teammates recoiled and fled in shock.

“Yeongung, you bastard…! You did that on purpose!”

Yeongung only shrugged innocently.

“Let’s be real, hm? This stupid Association sends any dog or cow as support staff these days. Tch, they should at least send someone competent. What help is a brat like that? Right, Yeongung? Right?”

But Yeongung ignored the spittle-spraying man entirely.

“Kid, open your mouth.”

“…What?”

“I need to check your injury.”

Pressing his fingertip to the wounded spot, Yeongung activated his healing skill. Fresh, cooling mana flowed into Iheun’s body.

“⋯!”

Iheun’s ears twitched instinctively at the unfamiliar sensation.

“Kids shouldn’t interrupt adult business. Don’t do something like this again. Got it?”

“Hah! Like you’re an adult. You’re still a student yourself, acting grown-up.”

Iheun pouted, and something in Yeongung’s gaze shifted. He wasn’t used to being protected. People always expected him to save, to guard, to endure. No one saw him as someone who needed shielding.

But this beautiful boy, who had appeared out of nowhere—he was different. He moved to protect Yeongung. Like the mage who once turned to stardust, fighting the S-Rank monster Endoceras to save a stranger.

Tok.

Yeongung knocked his forehead lightly against Iheun’s, suddenly serious.

“Be honest with me, kid. What are you, really?”

The way he held the boy—protectively—drew the eyes of several female team members. From the team leader’s position, Iheun’s face wasn’t visible, but to those who had fled from him, the two were clear as day.

Conscious of the stares, Yeongung slipped off his hoodie and draped it over the boy. He zipped it up to the neck and pulled the hood low to hide as much of his face as possible.

“Don’t mind idiots like that.”

The team leader’s beady eyes burned with inferiority. He opened his mouth to spew more nonsense, but someone cut him off.

Actor Won Saheun—national treasure—glared at the team leader with weary annoyance.

“⋯My head is splitting right now, so could you shut that mouth? And don’t lay a hand on him. You’ll regret it.”

Turning toward the voice, Yeongung saw Saheun surrounded by five burly attendants, being doted on with the ease of a modern noble. One of them immediately handed him a cold water bottle.

Won Saheun and Won Iheun. A spark crackled between them, invisible but unmistakable.

“Why are you even here? Putting a cut on the precious face he adores. You… couldn’t care less whether I live or die.”

Saheun spoke first. The jealousy in his eyes when he said he was undeniable. Unlike Iheun, who claimed they were distant relatives unfamiliar with each other, Saheun seemed to know a great deal about the boy.

“What nonsense.”

Iheun’s indifferent tone made the plastic bottle in Saheun’s hand crumple with a crack. Yeongung glanced at Saheun and murmured:

“Kid, he looks like he’s taking that personally.”

“Don’t care.”

As Yeongung and Iheun whispered like sharing secrets, the man’s mask-like face twisted.

He really is offended.

Normally, Yeongung barely managed to keep himself alive—he had no room to care about others, much less their family drama. Yet this boy he met today lodged himself in Yeongung’s thoughts. He couldn’t look away.

Whatever their history, openly antagonizing a kid this young was absurd.

“He seems pretty interested, though.”

After rescuing Saheun, the two hadn’t exchanged a single word. Iheun guided Yeongung to the hideout and then stepped back completely, acting as if his role were finished. Even unbinding Saheun had been left to Yeongung.

If not for their earlier conversation, no one would guess they were related.

Then Saheun snapped, his voice sharp with hysteria.

“All that hype and nothing to show for it. They said ‘youngest this, youngest that,’ so I expected something incredible. But without that brat, you couldn’t even rescue one hostage.”

His venom stung like bile, but Yeongung didn’t flinch. Only the man’s manufactured persona irritated him.

“Please. You’re no different from your rumors either. Did Korea run out of kindhearted men? A personality disaster being hailed as the nation’s sweetheart.”

Nonchalantly, Yeongung mimed digging his pinky into his ear. Saheun’s face contorted nastily.

What part of that demon-like face is ‘modern noble’? My eyes must’ve malfunctioned.

Yeongung was even contemplating exorcism when Iheun tugged at his collar.

“Hyung.”

It was the first time the boy called him that.

“I dropped an important item bag where we first met. Bring it back for me.”

“…Right now?”

“There’s a precious keepsake inside. You’re the fastest one here… please.”

The way the boy bowed his head made Yeongung’s chest ache.

“I’ll be quick. Wait here. Stay with the noonas.”

He gave Iheun one last worried look, wanting to return the item as soon as possible.

Pop—!

The white aura vanished as Yeongung teleported away. Immediately, Iheun removed the hood—and his demeanor shifted, cold and razor-sharp.

“An old fox, a useless pig, and verminous rats… this Gate really was a zoo.”

Saheun stared at his cousin, fearful. A keepsake? Both of Iheun’s parents were alive and well. A selfish brat like him had no treasured memento.

“Since we’re bored, how about a game? Let’s see whether the fox, the pig, or the rats last longer in a monster safari.”

Snap.

Iheun flicked his fingers. Monsters imprisoned in deeper underground bunkers were summoned in an instant. Saheun and the five attendants—unawakened civilians—ran screaming toward the rear of the Hunter formation.

Shriek—! ROAAAR—!

“You little demon…!”

The team, long dependent on Yeongung, panicked the moment the monsters appeared.

“Maybe you should’ve behaved better.”

In the chaos, the team leader’s eyes sharpened. This is about Yeongung, isn’t it?

But he didn’t have time to think—an ogre’s massive club was swinging his way.

“Help me—!”

Iheun leaped through the air, landed lightly, and grabbed the team leader’s hair.

“This is a small punishment for freeloaders like you. Hunter Yeongung has been breaking his back while you enjoy all the benefits.”

Smack—!

He slapped the man’s chubby cheek—fatter than pork jowl—mocking him by copying the exact words the team leader had once used on Yeongung.

“Right? Isn’t that right? Hm?”

An hour later.

Tap.

Yeongung returned empty-handed, his expression grim. Iheun, head bowed like a guilty sinner, drew a small pendant from inside his robe.

“Sorry. It was here.”

“What? You brat, look harder next time…! I was so damn anxious because I couldn’t find it anywhere!”

He was certainly the fastest, but realistically, Iheun using his own tracking skills would’ve been far more efficient. Only after rummaging through ruined terrain for nearly an hour did that thought occur. It bothered him… but he let it go. At least the keepsake was found.

Ruffling his hair, Yeongung sighed.

“Whatever. We got it.”

They only needed to do a head count and then exit the Gate.

But then—

“…What the hell…?”

“Ugh…”

The teammates—perfectly fine earlier—were now sprawled out, covered in blood. As Yeongung approached to check their condition, every single one avoided his gaze.

Even stranger—they who always treated him like a mana battery refused to ask for help, despite their serious injuries.