Hero Hunter is on Parental Leave C6

Chapter 6

“Awake, are you?”

“⋯.”

“I know you’re up. Stop pretending and open your eyes.”

As his vision gradually adjusted to the bright light, he made out the back of a man with long hair gathered sloppily by a yellow rubber band. A familiar silhouette—Lee Chahyeon, a fellow orphanage kid like Yeongung.

Unwilling to listen to his nagging, Yeongung shut his eyes again, only for the friend who’d been with him almost as long as Won Iheun had, to jab a finger into his cheek dimple.

“Honestly… I go on a business trip for a few days and everything turns into a circus.”

The intrusive finger burrowed into his dimple, forcing Yeongung to sit up.

“That bastard Nam Suhwan is notorious in this field. His family had decent power back in the early days of the Association’s founding. He’s been swinging that lower half of his like a weapon ever since, doing whatever the hell he wants… a complete degenerate.”

And what was he supposed to do with that information? Yeongung looked at him blandly.

“And?”

Checking the remaining IV fluid, Chahyeon continued, then smacked Yeongung’s hand away with a sharp slap when he tried to pull the needle from his arm.

“That Nam Suhwan? Apparently he’s been your hardcore fan for years. But based on his consultation notes, you and Won Iheun seemed… involved. The moment he thought his precious muse might’ve gotten snatched up by someone else, he snapped.”

“He’s not a fan—he’s a perverted stalker. If he shows up in front of me again, I’ll send him straight to hell.”

Just remembering the man’s filthy face made his blood boil again.

“He also thinks you’re an Alpha. Has no clue you’re an Omega. And get this—Nam Suhwan’s kink? Making Alphas cry. Even if he grew up sheltered like some aristocrat’s lapdog, a regular civilian messing with a Hunter—and you out of all people? That’s actual insanity.”

“I don’t give a shit about some freak’s taste. Just make sure he gets disciplined properly. You can swing that much weight, can’t you?”

When Yeongung demanded it from Chahyeon—the director of the Awakened Medical Center under the Management Bureau—the man flapped his white coat and complained.

“Did you miss the part where I told you his family—”

“Save it. I know you’re trying to use this as leverage to squeeze benefits later. I’m not falling for that crap.”

“You’re impossible.”

The two knew each other too well. Chahyeon clicked his tongue at the lost opportunity.

As Yeongung tore the IV needle loose with a rough motion, he asked:

“Where’s Won Iheun?”

“Yes, yes. There’s only one Won Iheun Master in your universe. When you collapsed? Won Iheun looked ready to straight-up kill someone right there. Honestly, I thought Suhwan’s lifespan got cut by at least thirty years.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

The look on his face said, try being reasonable, making Chahyeon widen his eyes.

“You don’t believe me? The proton therapy center right behind the building where you had your consultation almost went up in smoke! Do you have any idea how expensive that facility is? I nearly pissed myself. My soul escaped my body.”

“Chahyeon. Tone it down. Even during emergencies, Iheun never uses offensive skills on civilians.”

At that, Chahyeon thumped his fist against his chest.

“Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable. When will those rose-colored glasses fall off your face?”

Outside, the sun had nearly set. The crimson dusk washed over Yeongung’s pale face like watercolor.

Chahyeon looked at his friend with quiet worry. Yeongung’s blind devotion to Won Iheun was something he’d fretted over for years.

“That trash earlier said something ridiculous. Claimed Iheun’s amnesia was caused by trauma from the End Event. Is that true?”

“It is. Suhwan’s an ass, but he wouldn’t falsify medical records.”

“And the treatment? A way to recover the memory?”

“⋯Yeongung, don’t freak out. But does he really need to remember?”

He hadn’t expected that. Yeongung slammed his fist onto the hospital bed. The IV stand rattled violently.

“Is the whole world infected with the bullshit virus? Why are you talking nonsense too?! Of course we need to put him back to how he was!”

Startled by Yeongung’s rare agitation, Chahyeon answered carefully—explaining why he hesitated.

“Memory loss caused by trauma means the patient chose to carve that memory out of his own mind. So what I’m saying is—if Won Iheun wanted those memories gone that badly… why force them back?”

His heart throbbed painfully. The idea that his very existence had hurt Iheun felt like a knife lodged in his chest. Why had Iheun saved him, then? Why cling so hard if he wanted him erased?

“I never expected him to feel the same.”

His voice tried for indifference, but his trembling irises betrayed him.

Iheun doesn’t love you.

It felt like being executed over and over.

Gratitude toward his savior had rotted into something shameful over the years, and Yeongung thought bitterly that his long unrequited love was pitiful. A heart once hard as tempered metal was gradually wearing thin.

A pale hand drifted to his flat abdomen. Each time he remembered the child inside him, his palm naturally moved there. He stroked the still-flat skin gently.

“Chahyeon. I’m pregnant.”

The bomb dropped so abruptly that Chahyeon’s jaw fell open.

“⋯What? Wait—hold on. Ah, fuck. You two did it?!”

Realizing the order was wrong, he corrected himself:

“Sorry—wrong question. Are you two dating?”

He knew, to a degree, what kind of household Iheun had been raised in. Not as deeply as Yeongung, but enough.

Yeongung denied it with the same tone someone might use when declining a lunch recommendation.

“Ever seen someone like Won Iheun fall in love? We were just sex partners.”

Soft-hearted idiot. Chahyeon’s gentle concern—so worried Yeongung might get hurt—made him absurdly thankful.

“Then… the father is…”

“Yeah. It’s Iheun’s.”

“Christ. I know you’re always careful, but seriously—be more careful.”

“We used condoms every time. I took additional contraceptives. And I’m extremophile, remember? A pregnancy was literally impossible.”

And yet here he was. Maybe this was why he seemed oddly calm, despite never imagining he’d be the one to carry a child. Reading Yeongung’s decision, Chahyeon asked in disbelief:

“You’re not… planning to keep it, are you?”

“They say it surviving in my body at all is a miracle.”

So yes—he intended to keep the baby.

A friend watching someone willingly walk into a bed of thorns couldn’t stay quiet. Chahyeon raised his voice.

“The guy who cares about no one but Won Iheun suddenly has boundless compassion for humanity? And the father agreed to this?”

“I didn’t know until now. And I can’t tell him yet. He just woke up from a coma—what if the shock knocks him out again?”

That guy? He’d be fine.

But watching Yeongung twist with worry, Chahyeon just shook his head… and vowed again to pry those rose-colored glasses off him someday. Yet Yeongung’s next words left him speechless.

“A father needs to know who the mother of his child is.”

“⋯.”

“Tell me how to restore Iheun’s memory. Help me. I’ll repay you. I’ll grant you one wish—anything. Be honest, who in this country would reject a wish from Hero Hunter Yeongung?”

Since orphanage days, Yeongung had always been someone Chahyeon wanted to protect. Even now—despite having risen to an unreachable height—he still looked like that fragile child who once cried for his mother.

And as always, Chahyeon gave in.

“Fine. You talk pretty when you want something. I’ll help.”

“Thanks.”

The short, breezy reply was annoying enough that Chahyeon wanted to pinch his dimples. Approaching the bed, he continued:

“I applied to transfer your case to me under the unwed-mother program. From now on, you’re not coming to the hospital—I’m coming to your house.”

“Oh, kill me now. Why did I end up with an orphanage friend like you? My life is suffering.”

Chahyeon pretended to cry dramatically, as though Yeongung hadn’t just conscripted the hospital director as his personal house-call doctor. When he leaned toward Yeongung’s thigh, Yeongung kicked his shoulder and climbed off the bed.

He had no time to lounge around like some pampered patient.

“I’ll text your appointment schedule. Don’t be late.”

A week later.

Knock, knock.

After a couple knocks, the secretary opened the office door—only to shriek at the tall figures lingering at the entrance.

“Mother of—!”

It was Sanghee and Hamgyeol—the fool duo.

“Hunters, what are you doing standing here? Why not go inside?”

“Secretary….”

“You two came to see the Master as well, right? Come on, let’s go in.”

Today was Won Iheun’s return-to-duty day. Entering to file her report, the secretary hugged her arms at the sudden plunge in room temperature.

“Goodness—did someone leave the air conditioner on in here? Why is it so cold—Mother of—!”

Her second outburst came when she spotted the two already inside—Yeongung and Won Iheun.

“My, it’s been ages since I’ve seen you two sitting together like this.”

The two Hunters who always vied for first and second place in popularity polls—face to face—were practically a magazine spread. The secretary, treated to this visual blessing first thing in the morning, smirked mischievously.

But… something felt off.

“Ha-ha… The meeting starts at nine. You’re all early.”

Worried she’d arrived late, she checked her smartwatch. 8:40 a.m.—twenty minutes early. Meaning the fool duo had arrived even earlier.

In the swirling chill, the silence broke first from Yeongung.

“⋯All right. But Won Iheun—you’re keeping every condition I set. No exceptions.”

Though his voice held clear displeasure, Won Iheun smiled brightly.

“Then it’s a deal.”

The contented expression of a predator with a full belly made heat simmer beneath Yeongung’s ribs.