Hero Hunter is on Parental Leave C19

Chapter 19

There was no need to make any effort to search for Won Iheun.

He was already seated at the bar, knocking back strong whiskey one glass after another.

The entire atmosphere of Python Lounge flowed around him as its axis.

Alphas cast looks laced with envy and admiration, and the Omegas twisted their overheated bodies restlessly.

“Damn. Are they human pretzels or what.”

Everyone on the floor was conscious of Won Iheun.

Just being here meant all of them were dominant trait–holders.

Yet before Iheun, they faded like Betas with barely any presence.

Even among a gathering composed solely of dominant Alphas, Iheun’s existence was overwhelming.

And yet, compared to the flood of attention, the area around him remained uncrowded.

There was a reason why the desperate Omegas didn’t dare approach.

Someone had already taken the seat at his side—naturally and without contest.

Curiosity followed like a spotlight: Who was the person privileged enough for that aloof man to give the time of day?

Yeongung already knew who that Omega was.

So you really were with the real Lee Rubin.

Wiping away the bitter look in his eyes, he adjusted the rabbit mask.

Then, without hesitation, he headed toward the far right end of the bar.

He planned to lift the counter gate and slip into the staff-only section.

“Rabbit, where are you going!”

“Cat, you idiot. I’m a bartender. You hired me as an experienced hire—did you forget?”

When Yeongung stated it firmly, Cat only blinked in confusion—Was he?—tilting his head.

While Cat hesitated in bewilderment, Yeongung seized the opening and swiftly walked to the center of the bar table.

Iheun’s seat drew closer and closer.

He kept his stride steady—not too hurried—to avoid looking suspicious.

“Rabbit!”

Cat’s sharp, complaining voice rang from afar.

Rabbit, Cat—seriously? What is this, a barnyard?

For something touted as elite amusement for the upper crust, the whole thing was embarrassingly childish.

Instead of going directly to the two of them, Yeongung stopped before a customer nearby.

Only his eyes were visible outside the mask.

He felt that if he met Iheun’s gaze directly, his identity would be exposed instantly.

The deeper he moved toward the lounge’s center, the stronger the pheromones grew—thick, concentrated, unleashed by a room densely packed with dominant trait–holders.

Yeongung, who had rarely found himself in such proximity to so many dominants, felt the dizziness rise.

To steady his churning stomach, he imagined Iheun’s pheromones—the deep-forest scent he knew so well.

A placebo of sorts.

Yeongung, who had no real skill in mixing cocktails, watched other bartenders out of the corner of his eye.

Then he began carving ice for a whiskey-on-the-rocks glass.

“Easy.”

Carving substances with a blade was second nature to him; after a few tries, it came effortlessly.

He even shaped the ice into a diamond cut with artisan precision.

But just then, a coworker rushed over in alarm.

“Rabbit, stop! Are you planning to carve every last cube in the ice machine!?”

“Ah, sorry. Got carried away practicing. Heh.”

He brushed it off with an easy laugh while his eyes tracked his true purpose in coming to Python.

He spotted Lee Rubin, chattering endlessly on his own, and Won Iheun, wearing a bored expression.

Yeongung positioned himself near them, polishing a wine glass as if naturally part of the scene.

For a moment, Yeongung felt as though he met Iheun’s eyes.

He was masked, and in this place choked with dominant pheromones, his own—those of a recessive—should be imperceptible, negligible.

…Just my imagination.

Flustered, Yeongung opened the built-in refrigerator and pretended to check ingredients.

He stole subtle glances.

Lee Rubin swayed like a metronome, head bobbing—drunk after a few glasses of whiskey, or pretending to be.

“Iheun-ssi. Is that true?”

“…”

“I mean that.”

It was a one-sided conversation. Rubin talking, answering himself.

“When I came to you saying I was pregnant with your kid.”

Clink—

The glass nearly slipped from Yeongung’s hand; he tightened his grip until his knuckles strained.

Pregnant…?

As a recessive Omega, he had become pregnant—so a dominant Omega like Rubin would have had an even easier time conceiving.

Still, the thought that someone else might have carried Iheun’s child before he had become his partner was something he had never allowed himself to imagine.

The shock rattled him.

“How did you know I was lying back then?”

Ah… so it was a lie.

Relief washed through Yeongung; he inhaled inside the mask.

“You told me to get rid of it. You said not to lie.”

Only then did Iheun finally give Rubin a look—one he offered as though tossing alms to a nuisance.

Though his gaze held all the disdain reserved for a bothersome microbe.

“Right. It wasn’t your kid—it was some other guy’s. But I still went to you. How did you know? Sometimes you’re like a damn ghost.”

Rubin giggled, a hollow laugh like someone with an alcohol dependency.

Iheun, looking away again, spoke in a detached tone—utterly emotionless.

“Even if by some chance it had been mine, it would have been the same.”

“What do you mean? You would’ve told me to get rid of it even if it was really yours?”

“Of course.”

This was a man who despised blood ties, who felt revulsion toward the very blood running through his veins.

But Yeongung hadn’t known his hatred ran this deep.

Iheun’s words to Rubin sounded like they were being spoken directly to him.

If he finds out… he’ll tell me to get rid of Creamie…

The baby snow leopard cub from his dreams—the one that had greeted him with a bright smile—floated before his eyes.

Creamie.

Creamie would disappear.

My baby—ah…

“Haa—”

The horrific thought alone shattered his breath.

His pulse spiked out of control.

Under the mask, Yeongung’s face drained of color.

Hyperventilation.

He stumbled a few steps toward the exit, vision whirling.

His shoulder struck another staff member.

“Sorry…”

Iheun’s gaze followed the frail figure staggering away.

Yeongung escaped the bar and hid himself in a bathroom stall.

“A place… without Won Iheun…”

He tore off the mask, clamping a trembling hand over his mouth.

“Run… I have to run.”

Run, if I want to protect Creamie.

The next day.

The Association was thrown into chaos.

“Find him—by any means necessary! I don’t care what it takes!”

The Association president, unable to contain his fury, hurled anything within reach—nameplates, golf clubs, whatever his hands found.

The roar, bordering on a beast’s, felt lethal to the sixth-year junior of the PR team.

Of all days to arrive late—what cursed luck.

Muttering complaints about his miserable fate, the junior plastered himself to the wall like camouflage—

I am a potted plant. A cabinet. Please, walk past me.

He crab-walked along the corridor when whispers drifted through the slightly open pantry door.

It was a conversation between Planning & Coordination Office employees—Chief P and Chief L, both notorious lifers of the Association.

“God… they say they can’t trace him even with unique mana. How are we supposed to find him? For all we know, he vanished underground or flew into the sky—no one has any clue where he is!”

“I heard the Taco Guild is mourning like someone died.”

Taco Guild—one even the junior knew well.

Since its founding, it had never lost the rank-1 spot.

And it was led by the famed pair: Won Iheun and Yeongung.

But words like “unique mana tracking” and “funeral atmosphere” stirred his curiosity.

Dopamine—what was it?

The only source of joy for salaried worker ants, enslaved to their paychecks.

Even tardiness couldn’t stop the junior’s feet from freezing in place.

He pressed closer, ear to the door, listening like a spy.

“This is impossible. If that man decides to hide, is there even a single searcher in Korea who could find him?”

“No clue. They’ll just pressure the field agents to death as usual.”

“But how did they even know he went missing? The Chimera Gate was cleared just yesterday. How do you decide he’s missing within half a day? He might’ve just gone on a quick vacation.”

Chief P thumped his chest in exasperation.

“Vacation? Absolutely not. Absolutes are classified as national strategic assets, equivalent to nuclear-grade defense. Once they earn the title, a chip is implanted in their body.”

“What the—an internal chip?”

“Yeah. It’s implanted in a spot that’s dangerous to tamper with. And he tore it out—risking his life. If that’s not going off grid, then what is?”

Chief L’s face froze as he grasped the severity—internal chips, life-threatening procedures.

The thought of such a device inside his own body made him shudder.

Then Chief P abruptly hushed his voice.

A towering silhouette crossed the glass skybridge connecting the twin buildings.

“Hey—shh. Master Won Iheun’s coming.”

“God. He looks like he could kill someone with that aura alone. Let’s keep our heads down.”

Won Iheun, Guild Master of Taco, strode past the PR junior and entered the Association President’s office.

Seeing a celebrity in person for the first time, the junior swallowed hard.

His presence was lethal.

It was unbelievable that a human being could look like that.

Cursing the heavens for distributing beauty so unfairly, the junior stretched his cramped limbs and swung the pantry door open.

“Um… sir? Who disappeared? What’s with the chaos this morning?”

Holding a paper cup, he slipped naturally into their conversation.

The two chiefs answered in unison.

“Well, you see…”

The Absolute—Yeongung—

had vanished without a trace.