Hero Hunter is on Parental Leave C2

Chapter 2

The public had always assumed, without question, that Yeongung was an Alpha. Unlike most Omegas, who tended to have smaller builds and delicate, soft features, Yeongung stood over 180 centimeters tall and possessed a sharp, striking handsomeness rather than the usual beauty.

But in truth, Yeongung was an Omega—a hyper-reactive one at that.

It wasn’t as though he had deliberately spread false information. The world was simply easier for Alphas. So he had never felt the need to correct the misconception. Moreover, under the Anti-Genetic Discrimination Act, one’s secondary gender was protected personal information and did not need to be disclosed without consent. Thus, there was never a reason—or an opportunity—to “set the record straight.”

Only a handful of people knew Yeongung’s true gender: high-ranking officials from the Management Bureau, the Hunter Association—and Won Iheun.

At first, Yeongung had assumed that, as the guild master, Iheun had access to the personal data of all guild members, including him. But when he’d asked how Iheun had found out, the man had replied with that infuriatingly smug face—after having spilled himself deep inside him.

“Hunter Yeongung was leaking pheromones everywhere. You were trying to seduce me, weren’t you?”

The very idea was absurd. Yeongung had never even gone through a heat before, much less “leaked pheromones.” Yet at those last words—weren’t you trying to seduce me?—his heart had skipped, because… maybe, just a little, he had been.

Iheun, who was always so composed, had an uncanny instinct for other people’s emotions. He never kept around anyone who showed him inconvenient affection. During their time as partners, Yeongung had learned to bury his feelings deep.

Despite the endless nights they spent together, pregnancy had never been a concern. Both had always been careful with contraception, and Yeongung’s hyper-reactive physiology made conception practically impossible.

At least, that’s what he had believed.

Now, still reeling from the doctor’s words, Yeongung asked again, his voice trembling in disbelief.

“Six weeks pregnant?”

“Yes,” the doctor confirmed gently. She turned the monitor toward him, pointing at the ultrasound image.

“Here—you can see the gestational sac. Judging by the size, I’d estimate you’re between five and six weeks along. To be honest, it’s a miracle you didn’t miscarry. During the early stages of pregnancy, we usually advise avoiding strenuous activity, and you, Hunter-nim, participated in the Apocalypse Battle.”

The words echoed in his ears—a miracle you didn’t miscarry while destroying the Axis of Apocalypse.

Yeongung murmured faintly, “That’s impossible…”

“It’s true that conception for hyper-reactive Omegas is statistically near impossible,” the doctor continued, “but not entirely unheard of.”

“That’s not what I mean…”

The shock shaking Yeongung came from something else entirely. He remembered his physical state before Iheun had absorbed his damage—broken, bleeding, his body barely holding together.

Could this even be possible?

Cautiously, Yeongung placed a hand over his abdomen, tracing the taut skin over his faintly visible abs. Somewhere inside, smaller than a grain of sand, a fragile life had clung on—fighting to survive. The thought alone stirred something unfamiliar within him: a sharp, tender ache of paternal love.

As if sensing his emotions, the doctor spoke softly.

“It’s a strange feeling, isn’t it? Pregnancy always is. Especially for someone like you—I doubt you ever imagined this could happen.”

Her warm tone began to calm him. She handed him a pamphlet of precautions along with a printed ultrasound image.

“There’s a government program that offers confidential support for single parents. Your medical records will remain private—no one will know. Please, make sure you follow the listed guidelines carefully.”

She had clearly seen many expectant parents before, and her empathy showed in every word.

“And I must recommend that you take a break from Hunter work,” she added with a kind smile. “Even if you were lucky enough to conceive, hyper-reactive Omegas have a much higher risk of miscarriage compared to standard Omegas.”

She gave a small, embarrassed laugh.

“I know you’re the nation’s hero and all, but work can wait. Your baby comes first, don’t you think?”

After the hospital visit, Yeongung returned home, collapsed on the couch, and rubbed his face roughly with both hands.

He pulled the ultrasound photo from his pocket. The doctor’s words replayed over and over in his mind.

“It’s a miracle you didn’t miscarry.”

“You should take a break from Hunter work for now.”

“Even if you’re lucky enough to conceive, hyper-reactive Omegas have a much higher risk of miscarriage.”

“Your baby comes first, don’t you think?”

“I’m… a dad,” he whispered. “A dad…”

Yeongung had no family. He had grown up in an orphanage.

Awakened earlier than his peers, he was recruited by the state as soon as his potential was recognized. His Hunter aptitude test had ranked him as an S-rank—but the Association, fearing he would become a target of rogue factions, officially registered him as B-rank.

When he was first sent into a Gate, he was only fourteen years old.

The world inside Gates was brutal. Hierarchies existed only by strength, and the adult Hunters did not see him as someone to protect—just another licensed competitor. Some even sneered at the “B-rank kid” who had clearly entered through connections.

They joked that it would be a miracle if he didn’t get eaten by a monster. His cold, stoic demeanor made him an even bigger target of resentment.

And then, one day, the incident happened.

Their team included a new member, a woman who introduced herself as an A-rank mage—and as a mother. The team leader paired the newcomer with Yeongung for an area sweep. Throughout their exploration, she spoke endlessly about her child.

Yeongung, who had never known his parents, couldn’t bear to hear any more and covered his ears.

That was when a boss monster appeared before them—an Endoceras, an S-rank beast that had no business existing in a C-rank Gate.

Even in the emergency, Yeongung couldn’t unleash his full power. Still inexperienced, he wore a control device issued by the Association—a device that now chained him down.

And suddenly, he remembered—the team leader’s smirk when he’d sent them off together.

“Son of a bitch,” Yeongung hissed.

The nine-meter-tall Endoceras roared, its massive tendrils snapping through the air as its suction cups pulsed. One whip of its tentacle could crush a man’s bones to powder.

Against such a monster, a single A-rank mage and a restricted “B-rank” Hunter stood no chance.

Just before a venomous tendril struck him, the mage poured every drop of her mana into Yeongung’s body, forming a shimmering barrier around him.

‘My son actually died two years ago from a rare illness.’

Her voice was calm, almost peaceful, as if death didn’t frighten her anymore.

‘Yeongung, someday you’ll meet someone you want to protect with your whole being.’

Then she was gone—leaving behind words too heavy for a fourteen-year-old to understand.

From that day, Yeongung returned his control device and reclaimed his true S-rank status.

Now, in his thirties, he finally understood what she had meant. Because he had met someone he wanted to protect—Won Iheun.

And now, another.

Yeongung placed the ultrasound photo over his heart. His son… his family… would soon exist.

“I want to have it,” he murmured.

Just as he had once risked his life to protect Iheun, he wanted to protect the child in his womb—their child.

“Let’s have it.”

The decision was made—but then came the harder question: how to tell Iheun.

Yeongung knew better than anyone that Iheun despised his own bloodline, that he had sworn to end it with himself.

“Sigh… he’ll definitely tell me to get rid of it…”

Marriage because of a child? Impossible. That was never an option. Yeongung had no illusions of that. He just wanted Iheun’s consent to raise the baby alone.

“How the hell do I convince that bastard…”

He spent the whole night thinking about it, only to show up at the hospital the next morning looking pale and exhausted. He didn’t expect Iheun to have woken up yet—he only wanted to see his face and leave.

“What? Won Iheun woke up?”

Iheun was awake. The news he had longed for. Relief, joy, disbelief—all tangled in his chest.

But before he could see him, the infamous “foolish duo” of the Tako Guild, which he and Iheun led, blocked the hospital room door.

“Move, you brats,” Yeongung growled.

One of the guild’s senior members, Hamgyeol, hesitated.

“Deputy Master, the thing is…”

“Do I need to move you by force?”

At that, another member, Sanghee, quickly spoke up.

“Hyung, don’t freak out. He woke up, but… he’s not exactly in his right mind yet—”

Just then, the commotion outside drew attention from within. The door opened—and there he was.

“What’s going on here?”

“⋯Won Iheun—!”

In an instant, Yeongung forgot every plan he’d made through the night. He rushed forward and wrapped his arms around Iheun’s shoulders.

To see that beautiful face again—he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it. The gaping wound in Iheun’s chest was completely gone, his complexion better than ever.

“Thank god. You’re okay… you’re really okay…”

But instead of returning the embrace, Iheun roughly pushed him away. His elegant face wrinkled in confusion, and the words that came from those red lips froze Yeongung where he stood.

“Who are you?”

…What the fuck.

What kind of absurd joke was this?