Chapter 28

While Eui-rim quietly chewed the eoseon Hae-gun had placed on his plate, another proposal followed—this time phrased with genuine courtesy.

“Until I acquire a dedicated weapon, I’d like Kang Eui-rim-ssi to support me,” Hae-gun requested.

Eui-rim quietly set down his chopsticks, his appetite evaporating in an instant.

Going beyond merely entering dungeons to actively intervening in Seo Hae-gun’s high-stakes combat—the prospect made his stomach knot in dread.

“As you witnessed on Mount Gamak… my mana pool is remarkably shallow,” Eui-rim said carefully. “During my civil service duties, treating four or five patients a day was my absolute limit. On field dispatches, casting a single spell required hours of recovery.”

He knew reciting his shortcomings sounded like dodging responsibility, but he had no choice. If Seo Hae-gun truly intended to rely on him as a supporter, his limitations had to be laid bare from the start.

“Even on Mount Gamak, I felt the strain from the very second activation. Supporting you as frequently as you might desire will be impossible.”

“I know. I’m asking with full consideration of that,” Hae-gun replied.

“…”

So that’s how it is…

In that case, Eui-rim had no remaining grounds to decline. When Hae-gun openly acknowledged his flaws and asked anyway, refusing was no longer an option.

Massaging his throbbing temple, Eui-rim let out a weary sigh. “…For your information, the Watch of Seclusion I possess is B-rank. If you intend to take me along, you’ll need to provide me with a stealth item of superior grade first.”

“Naturally,” Hae-gun agreed at once. “I already planned to procure the finest equipment available.”

In truth, the concession had been predictable the moment Hae-gun offered an unlimited supply of high-grade potions. Having pledged a contractual clause to protect his life, the Guild Master would undoubtedly secure top-tier defensive gear.

“Eat up,” Hae-gun urged, nudging another platter forward. “It’s getting cold.”

Prompted by the platters being pushed closer to his side, Eui-rim picked up his chopsticks again. Only after Eui-rim took several more bites did Seo Hae-gun finally lift his own utensils and begin to eat.

The meal proceeded in surprising quiet. Scooping up a spoonful of hot broth, Eui-rim stole a glance across the table.

Is it because he was an Olympic athlete? His appetite seems double anyone else’s. While Hae-gun didn’t eat with messy gusto, the steady speed with which he cleared his bowls was staggering.

“Excuse me—there’s something I’m curious about,” Eui-rim said, breaking the silence.

He had been waiting for the right moment to broach the topic. Hae-gun paused mid-bite, his gray-blue eyes settling silently on Eui-rim.

“Which dungeons are you planning to clear before the Tower of Time?” Eui-rim asked.

Hae-gun swallowed before answering, “Mmm. For now, I have two locations in mind, though the second isn’t finalized yet. I’m still weighing the options.”

“Two of them?” Eui-rim asked, his brows rising.

Not just one, but two. Just how high does he want to raise my skill proficiency to go that far?

As Eui-rim stared in bewilderment, Hae-gun smirked. “Don’t worry. It’s not as if I’m dragging you back to Mount Gamak.”

Cough!

A bite of rice went down the wrong pipe, sending him into an uncontrollable coughing fit. Choking violently, Eui-rim would have sputtered across the table had Hae-gun not immediately thrust a glass of ice water into his hand.

“First, I’m thinking of heading to Utopia,” Hae-gun went on, as if nothing had happened.

Draining the entire glass to soothe his scorched throat, Eui-rim managed to catch his breath. Wiping the tears of suffocation from the corners of his eyes, he asked, “If it’s Utopia… do you mean the dungeon on Jeju Island?”

“Not bad, right?” Hae-gun asked.

“It’s certainly not bad, but…” Eui-rim hesitated.

Isn’t that dungeon managed by Moonseong Guild? Did they really give Cheongho permission to raid it?

“I acquired the rights recently,” Hae-gun stated smoothly. “The Moonseong Guild Master and I are fairly close.”

This wasn’t merely implausible; it was a brazen lie. Across the entire hunter community, it was common knowledge that Seo Hae-gun and Yuk Do-hwan, the young master of Moonseong Guild, were mortal nemeses.

“Don’t tell me you seized the management rights by force?” Eui-rim asked dryly.

“What do you take me for, using such harsh phrasing?” Hae-gun feigned offense.

“Because I doubt Guild Master Yuk would have surrendered it amicably,” Eui-rim countered.

Instead of denying it, Seo Hae-gun simply shrugged. “The renewal for Utopia’s raid rights was coming up anyway. I merely advised him not to struggle in vain if his guild couldn’t manage it properly, and he handed it over.”

Though Eui-rim didn’t know the gritty details, he could readily imagine the chaos. Lee Seonha had undoubtedly suffered a monumental headache handling the legal fallout, while Yuk Do-hwan had probably been provoked to the brink of madness.

Regardless of whatever friction had occurred, however, this was an extraordinarily favorable development. Utopia was renowned as an uncanny replica of the Tower of Time, serving as the ultimate simulation ground.

Though its rank and difficulty were scaled down compared to the authentic structure, and the resemblance applied strictly to the Tower’s first floor, it was infinitely superior to entering blind. Overseas guilds had routinely paid exorbitant royalties to Moonseong Guild just to run mock trials before challenging the Tower.

Even so, Moonseong Guild was surely gnashing their teeth in fury. They had amassed a fortune from admission fees, only to have their golden goose snatched away by Seo Hae-gun. It wouldn’t be surprising if Yuk Do-hwan were cursing Hae-gun’s name in the dark.

“Don’t worry too much about that fellow. I compensated him reasonably well,” Hae-gun said.

“I wasn’t concerned to that extent,” Eui-rim said.

Right, of course. Well compensated—by Lee Seonha’s tears. The Vice Guild Master had undoubtedly run herself ragged cleaning up the diplomatic wreckage left by her commander.

“When do you plan to raid the dungeon?” Eui-rim asked.

“We’ll move as soon as your contract is finalized, Eui-rim-ssi,” Hae-gun said.

“Then… should I expect departure sometime next week?” Eui-rim asked.

“When did you tell Seonha you’d visit the guild?” Hae-gun asked.

“Next Monday,” Eui-rim replied.

Having tendered his resignation at the public health center today, on Friday, he planned to settle his personal affairs over the weekend before reporting on Monday.

Seo Hae-gun gave an offhand nod, then pushed the sujeonggwa and assorted desserts placed in the corner toward Eui-rim. “Let’s head down immediately on Monday night. If you need anything, pack it in advance.”

“Yes, understood. Um… but Seo Hae-gun-ssi.”

“Hm?” Hae-gun looked up.

“You really don’t need to look after me like this piece by piece. I can eat just fine on my own.”

With Hae-gun repeatedly pushing dishes toward him as if coaxing a toddler, Eui-rim could no longer keep the remark to himself.

Did my chopstick skills look that clumsy?

“…True,” Hae-gun murmured, pausing with a bowl in hand. “Why am I doing this?”

What?

Eui-rim was rendered completely speechless. Hae-gun looked even more taken aback by the revelation than he was. Had the Guild Master truly been acting on subconscious reflex without realizing it?

“Did it make you uncomfortable?” Hae-gun asked.

“No, it’s not uncomfortable,” Eui-rim clarified hurriedly. “I said it out of politeness, meaning you don’t have to go out of your way to cater to me.”

“Ah, if that’s the case, then whatever,” Hae-gun dismissed it with an airy wave. “There was no deep meaning behind it. I suppose it was just an unconscious reflex.”

“…I see,” Eui-rim murmured.

And here I thought he was just exceptionally well-mannered at the dining table.

A strange awkwardness settling over the room, Eui-rim quietly sipped his sujeonggwa. Biting into a confection, Seo Hae-gun flashed a crooked smile—an expression holding more self-mockery over his own lapse than mockery of Eui-rim.

“It certainly is peculiar,” Hae-gun noted.

“In what way?” Eui-rim asked.

“The truth is, I despise eating meals with other people,” Hae-gun confessed casually.

Eui-rim nearly choked on his drink at the blunt confession. Forcing himself to swallow, he asked, “Pardon?”

“Whenever someone eats in front of me, my appetite evaporates,” Hae-gun explained smoothly. “And if they smack their lips, I want to slaughter them.”

The brutally radical declaration froze Eui-rim mid-breath.

…I didn’t make any blunders, did I?

His parents had raised him with strict etiquette, and he had never once been faulted for his dining manners. Even so, he frantically reviewed his conduct over the past hour to ensure he hadn’t chewed too loudly.

No. Before that, if sharing a meal with others makes him that uncomfortable, shouldn’t he have avoided arranging this setting in the first place? Why on earth did he suggest eating together? Was he planning to nullify the contract if he didn’t like the way I ate?

“Anyway, that’s why I didn’t intend to bring you here at first,” Hae-gun said. “I just planned to make sure you got a meal, discuss the contract, and part ways…”

“…”

“Yet somehow, it ended up like this, didn’t it?” Hae-gun chuckled dryly.

Perhaps because Hae-gun couldn’t rationalize it himself, his chuckle carried a note of quiet perplexity.

Setting down his cup of cinnamon punch, Eui-rim breathed an inward sigh. I have no idea what brought this on, but since he didn’t even notice until I mentioned it, at least I didn’t trigger his homicidal urges. That’s a relief.

The dinner drew to a close once Eui-rim finished the last confection. Having watched him in quiet contemplation, Seo Hae-gun rose from the table.

“Take your time coming out,” Hae-gun said.

Watching Hae-gun stride out with brisk efficiency, Eui-rim rubbed the back of his neck.

Only after the door clicked shut did he realize that the back of his neck was burning hot with embarrassment.