Hero Hunter is on Parental Leave C39

Chapter 39

The patients were swallowed by the black hole, and without hesitation, Yeongung hurled himself in after them.

“Hunter Yeongung—!”

Sssst—

Won Iheun tried to leap into the pit right behind him, but the gaping black maw snapped shut before he could enter.

“Fuck!”

CRASH—!

Cursing, the man stomped the floor hard enough to shatter it. The elevator cables snapped under the sheer force of an SSS-class Hunter. Using telekinesis to halt the fall, Iheun ripped the doors apart and shattered a nearby window. Bursting into the sky, he shot forward and issued a mass summons to his guild members.

A flickering blue status window popped up at the emergency call.

A Gate that has closed cannot be forcibly reopened.

But that doesn’t mean it’s hopeless.

You simply have to find a connected passage and tear open a gap.

On his way to the guild headquarters, he called Lee Chahyeon. He couldn’t stop worrying about Jaehee, whom he had left in the hospital director’s care.

“It’s me. Listen carefully. A Gate opened in the hospital just moments ago, and to rescue the patients, Hunter Yeongung entered it.”

[…! What—!? Wung— W-Wung entered—!?]

“Quiet. Until I get back, I’m entrusting our Jaehee to you. As hospital director, that’s the only thing you need to handle.”

Nothing about his tone sounded like a request—it was pure authority.

“The vertical cables of the elevator at the end of the main building have snapped. I temporarily stopped the fall, but it won’t hold long. I sent Sanghee for the interim repair. If you need more help, tell him.”

A baby’s babble came through the speaker—surprisingly patient, Jaehee seemed to be waiting for his father. Hearing his son’s bright little laugh made Iheun’s voice drop, tense and sharp.

“Let me repeat myself. When I return with Hunter Yeongung, the child had better be unharmed.”

[Don’t worry. Jaehee is my nephew—I received him with my own hands. I won’t let anything happen to him. You, Master, promise me instead that you’ll bring Wung back safely.]

The system’s past crime—its attempt to steal Yeongung’s life—flashed vividly in his mind. The aura around Iheun roared violently with fury.

“I’ll bring him back. Without fail.”

Tak, tak—

Leaping as if stepping across the ground itself, he raced along the glass walls of the building.

“He’s not the type to fall prey to the system easily, but even so—”

[…That’s true enough.]

But there was one thing that bothered him—

he had sealed his mana for far too long.

Clenching his lips hard, Iheun accelerated, determined to reach Yeongung as fast as possible.

“It’s a mutated monster.”

Landing atop a boulder, Yeongung looked up at the massive Venus flytrap rooted into the ground. From between its leaves came the muffled, desperate voices of trapped patients pleading for help.

The Venus flytrap—a perennial carnivorous plant—normally captured ants or flies using its sensor hairs. Its original size was around forty centimeters, yet this transformed specimen, altered by the system, was dozens of times larger.

Even so, the status window assigned it a C-rank. Large, yes, but not a truly difficult monster.

Normally, it took seven to ten days for a Venus flytrap to digest its prey. Raising his voice, Yeongung tried to calm the people trapped inside.

“This thing digests its prey very slowly. You don’t need to panic.”

“D-digest—? W-we’re going to be eaten alive—hic—!”

The woman who had begged him for help before falling into the Gate burst into tears. Panic spread among the captives, fear infecting them like a sickness. One man, unable to bear the terror, wet himself. Yellow liquid dripped along the giant leaf, splashing onto a young man trapped below, who immediately gagged.

“Bweeeeh—!!”

…He should have reassured them before mentioning digestion.

Watching the chaotic scene, Yeongung muttered to himself:

“It’s been a while since I’ve done any hunter work.”

A mutated monster of this level was nothing he couldn’t handle alone.

But with his ordinary face rather than his Absolute form, he couldn’t inspire confidence.

Srrrng—

He unsheathed his aura blade without hesitation.

For the first time in so long, he released his core—and torrents of mana flooded through him, rejoicing at their master’s return. He had missed this feeling.

Slash—slash—

Dozens of iron-hard vines were instantly sliced apart. The dismembered leaves convulsed and spat out their prey.

“Ah—?”

The patients who tumbled to the ground made dazed noises, stunned by the unexpected reprieve.

“So you were a Hunter!”

“Oh heavens—thank you!”

“Hic—I swear I’ll live a good life from now on…”

Covered in dirt and plant slime, the survivors clung to each other, trembling with relief. Yeongung passed them and approached the monster’s core—it needed to be destroyed.

Just then, a middle-aged woman—the only one not wearing a hospital gown—grabbed him.

“H-Hunter! My baby—my baby is gone! My Moon-jung isn’t there!”

Sometimes a guardian’s suffering was deeper than the patient’s.

Her thin, bony hands trembled with desperation.

“Please! Please save my Moon-jung—please!”

“Ma’am, calm down. Tell me slowly.”

“She was born in an incubator—she’s lived in the hospital her whole life. She has a heart condition—she’s never even run on a playground once—and now, here—here she can’t die like this! Hic, my baby… my baby!”

“Please try to breathe—”

“It’s all my fault. With my weak body—because I still wanted to give him a child—I got pregnant late, delivered early—because of me, my baby was born sick—if someone has to die, it should be me—!”

Her eyes rolled back mid-scream as she fell into a seizure. Yeongung steadied her at once.

“You must breathe. You, the guardian—you have to stay strong. Match your breathing to mine.”

One, two. One, two.

Gradually, her breathing evened out.

Listening to her blame herself for her child’s frailty stirred a tight ache in his chest.

He felt the same guilt toward Jaehee.

“Moon-jung—is she your daughter?”

“Yes, yes—she’s the sweetest, most precious girl…”

He wiped her tears with a handkerchief embroidered with Tintinping. She blinked.

“Oh—are you a father?”

“Yes.”

Thinking of Jaehee’s snow-pale, smiling face, his lips curved softly.

“I’ll definitely bring your daughter back. So don’t cry anymore. You need to show her your smile.”

“Hic… thank you. I’m so old, all I do is cry these days.”

“No, I understand you completely—as a parent myself.”

After gently patting her shoulder, he turned toward the monster’s core, expression hardening.

“And I need to return to my own child as fast as possible.”

With that, he closed his eyes to sense the core—

and immediately sensed something wrong.

The status window said C-rank.

But the core’s energy felt… at least A-rank, if not higher.

“So it was a disguise.”

Status windows could be corrupted by hallucination or mental interference from monsters.

Glancing at the flickering blue UI, he shut it off entirely.

Leaving it on would help Iheun find him faster later—

but for now, rescuing Moon-jung came first.

“All of you, move under that boulder.”

People obeyed without complaint, having witnessed the display of strength.

Closing his eyes again, Yeongung searched not for monsters, but for the life energy of humans. He wasn’t as precise as a top-tier Searcher like Won Iheun, but within a certain range, he could sense life.

“…!”

His eyes flew open.

The reason it was so difficult—

Moon-jung’s heartbeat was faintly pulsing inside the monster’s core.

She has a heart condition… she’s never even run once…

“Her heartbeat is too weak—nearly missed it.”

Fwoosh—!

He landed directly in front of the core.

Moon-jung’s heartbeat was clearer now.

But—

“Why does it feel merged? As if… they’re one.”

As he approached the dark, sinister gem-like organ, the truth revealed itself.

Moon-jung had not been trapped in the plant’s leaves—

she had been swallowed by the core itself.

Feeding the core directly was the fastest way for a monster to evolve.

The frail girl banged weakly against the inner surface, terrified.

The image of her mother’s anguished face overlapped with hers.

Mana surged through Yeongung’s veins like lightning, reacting to his rage and urging him—Destroy it. Now.

“Fuck. You disgusting thing. Today you picked the wrong opponent. No—you were unlucky enough to meet me.”

Ever since Jaehee was born, Yeongung had tried hard to reduce his swearing.

But as long as it didn’t reach his baby’s ears—he didn’t care.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been this pissed.”

Laughing coldly, he released the mana he’d been keeping partially sealed—throwing the gates wide open.

The ground trembled under the overwhelming force. All life within the Gate recoiled.

“Thanks for making my comeback so dramatic.”

With a low, chilling laugh—

the Absolute charged straight at the core.