Chapter 12

“…What?” Si-hoon blinked, thrown off balance by the clinical detachment in Eui-rim’s tone.

Kim Si-hoon’s sneer faltered, genuine bafflement flickering across his sharp features. Seizing the opening, Eui-rim drove the nail into the coffin with a calculated fabrication:

“You saw me collapsed on the pavement outside. I can no longer circulate my mana or trigger my healing skills properly. I believe I have suffered irreversible mana burnout.”

It was an impromptu excuse tossed out to buy immediate breathing room, but once spoken aloud, it sounded remarkably bulletproof. Among awakened personnel, abrupt resignations precipitated by chronic mana circuit burnout were not unprecedented. Though rare enough to occur only once or twice a year nationwide, official precedents existed in public records, providing an airtight legal cover story.

Suspicious though he was, Kim Si-hoon couldn’t accuse him of lying as easily as usual. Having witnessed Eui-rim’s state with his own eyes just moments before, Si-hoon seemed hesitant to press too carelessly.

As the psychic tension eased, the levitating objects drifted back into place one by one. After a heavy silence, Kim Si-hoon broke the quiet, his tone reluctant. “Did you get examined?”

Great. It worked.

Eui-rim didn’t know exactly how wretched he had looked earlier, but objectively speaking, he must have appeared in a truly sorry state.

Eui-rim debated how to spin his answer, but decided to be direct. With Kim Si-hoon’s suspicious nature, the man would undoubtedly check behind his back anyway.

“The symptoms appeared out of nowhere, so I haven’t had a proper examination yet,” Eui-rim explained calmly. “I plan to speak with the director first thing tomorrow and submit my resignation.”

“You can’t use them at all? Neither healing skills nor Self-Sustenance?” Si-hoon pressed, scowling.

“Yes,” Eui-rim replied simply.

Faced with an answer devoid of a single lie, Kim Si-hoon’s expression twisted. The sudden prospect of losing the healer he used to boss around at whim clearly put him in an awkward bind.

“This is so fucking sudden. Mana depletion without a single warning sign?” Si-hoon bit out.

“I know,” Eui-rim said quietly. “I was caught off guard as well.”

“Do you want to come get tested with me right now?” Si-hoon demanded.

“No,” Eui-rim demurred politely. “I’ll get tested on my own time since I’m still on duty right now. Regardless, I’m truly sorry for the trouble. I’ll make sure a successor is found quickly so your raid schedule isn’t delayed.”

Eui-rim bowed promptly in apology, eliciting a stunned, incoherent stammer from Kim Si-hoon. Gathering the raid documents strewn across the table, Eui-rim carefully gauged the man’s expression. His only goal was to make a swift exit before a fresh round of theatrics began.

“I’ll organize these files properly and leave them for the handover—”

“Wait,” Si-hoon barked.

The moment Eui-rim slipped the stack of paperwork into his bag, rough fingers clamped around his wrist. Kim Si-hoon, looking as pale as the stark white lighting, gripped him with an inscrutable expression.

“You’re actually quitting?” the man muttered, searching his eyes. “It’s not an excuse?”

“It isn’t,” Eui-rim said quietly.

“Then who is this person you’re meeting this week?” Si-hoon pressed, refusing to let go.

Why do you even care?

Eui-rim knew the man was obsessively fixated on bizarre things, but he hadn’t expected the interrogation to veer in this direction. He blinked once or twice before answering.

“Just an acquaintance,” Eui-rim replied, keeping his tone carefully neutral.

“Ah, fuck. Which acquaintance?” Si-hoon snapped, his temper flaring. “If you’re quitting as a healer, you wouldn’t be meeting them for work.”

Was it just his imagination, or was this bastard being unusually overbearing today? Eui-rim had already clarified that it wasn’t about a scout offer. What did it matter to Kim Si-hoon whom he met?

“I’m hurt, Healer Kang. Is this all our relationship amounts to? We agreed we wouldn’t keep secrets from each other.” Si-hoon sneered, his voice dropping low. “Look how well I’ve treated you. And you go and set up an appointment behind my back during such a fucking crucial time? Huh?”

Leaning in close, Kim Si-hoon pinned him with a suffocating glare. In his blazing dark eyes, an ugly storm of possessiveness and suspicion churned violently.

“Just what kind of bastard is he—” the guild master snarled.

“The Cheongho Guild Master,” Eui-rim cut in evenly.

Cutting him off before his ears could rot from listening any longer, Eui-rim watched Kim Si-hoon freeze mid-breath.

“…What?” Si-hoon stammered.

The dazed, stuttering echo was just as rigid as the grip clamped around Eui-rim’s wrist.

Meeting Kim Si-hoon’s petrified expression head-on, Eui-rim answered calmly, “I am going to meet Guild Master Seo Hae-gun of Cheongho Guild.”

Kim Si-hoon refused to believe him to the very end. The guild master’s reasoning was simple: how could an ordinary D-rank possibly secure an audience with the master of Cheongho Guild? Citing the Abyssal Origin Cave cleanup operation scheduled to begin that very week, Si-hoon insisted that Eui-rim was clearly plotting some other shady scheme for Friday.

Of course, the skepticism was entirely reasonable. The one who had arranged to meet near Abyssal Origin Cave was the Seo Hae-gun of the past timeline. In the present timeline, Hae-gun had no idea who Eui-rim was, nor what promise they had shared.

“Besides, you said you can’t even heal anymore,” Kim Si-hoon had barked, throwing up his hands in exasperation. “In that case, you’re nothing more than a civilian. How on earth does Healer Kang expect to enter Mount Gamak? Are you trying to commit suicide or something?”

Recalling how stubbornly Kim Si-hoon had badgered him until the very end, Eui-rim shook his head. He had no idea why the man had clung to him so desperately that day… but either way, knowing he would never have to be entangled with Kim Si-hoon again filled him with profound peace.

“Right. Now all that’s left is this gentleman,” Eui-rim murmured, tapping his phone against the steering wheel.

Glancing down, his gaze locked onto the photograph displayed on the illuminated screen. Clear, ultramarine eyes seemed to stare back with cool defiance, as if silently daring him: Can you really make it here to meet me?

Eui-rim scrolled down with a rueful grimace and began reviewing the articles detailing Abyssal Origin Cave.

The dungeon nestled in Mount Gamak—otherwise known as Abyssal Origin Cave—was the very first dungeon to ever emerge on South Korean soil. The origin of its name was surprisingly straightforward: ancient characters bearing the title had been found carved into the weathered stone monument guarding its entrance.

Typically, dungeons manifested as pocket dimensions inhabited by monsters, but Abyssal Origin Cave was cut from a fundamentally different cloth. The most critical anomaly was that no human could breach its interior, as though the gate itself were sealed by an unyielding force.

Perhaps because of that barrier, Abyssal Origin Cave constantly discharged monsters into the outside world, behaving like a perpetual, unending dungeon break. Because the species and ranks of emerging beasts fluctuated by the second, formulating a standard raid strategy—let alone clearing the zone permanently—had proved impossible.

Roughly a year after the cave manifested, the South Korean government had appealed to the International Hunter Association for assistance. At the time, awakened New Humans were scarce within domestic borders, and the nation’s sole S-rank hunter was a non-combatant. Though government officials knew full well that inviting a foreign coalition would invite political meddling, they possessed no other viable recourse.

Yet despite the coalition’s intervention, the crisis failed to abate. High-tier monsters surged forth in numbers far beyond initial projections, dragging the operation into a protracted war of attrition.

The foreign coalition hunters established a sprawling encampment near Mount Gamak under the pretext of purging the beasts, insisting that effective suppression required an entrenched local base of operations.

At first, public sentiment welcomed the high-ranking foreign hunters remaining on Korean soil; citizens believed that stationing elite combatants near Mount Gamak would guarantee their safety.

However, as the campaign dragged on indefinitely, the public began to realize that matters were taking a sinister turn.

The turning point came when the coalition hunters stationed at the encampment began styling themselves as “Guardians” and meddling openly in domestic politics.

These Guardians argued that South Korea was obligated to grant them extraterritorial privileges in exchange for their sacrifices on behalf of a weaker nation. Demanding blanket exemption from domestic laws, they aggressively expanded their authority—a blatant infringement upon national sovereignty carried out under the tacit approval of foreign powers.

Discontent escalated into friction, soon hardening into fierce public confrontation. Citizens split down the middle between those advocating appeasement and those demanding immediate expulsion, fueling venomous daily debates.

And right when the exhausted populace had been worn down to the bone by the endless discord…

One day, a teenage boy stepped forward, declaring he would cleanse the Abyssal Origin Cave perimeter entirely on his own.

A divine archer who had secured a spot on the national team at sixteen and swept three Olympic gold medals the following year.

Having awakened as an S-rank, the young Seo Hae-gun demanded that the Guardians relinquish all administrative authority over Abyssal Origin Cave.

The Guardians merely scoffed at the adolescent hunter’s audacity. No matter how towering an S-rank’s innate potential might be, without cultivated skill proficiency, novices frequently underperformed compared to seasoned A-ranks. Patting the teenage Seo Hae-gun on the shoulder, the foreign hunters urged him to leave immediately, warning that stray monsters were still prowling the area.

Yet Seo Hae-gun refused to retreat. Instead, the youth occupied the abandoned Mount Gamak Forestry Center and commenced a solitary extermination campaign against the monstrosities pouring from the cave.

A week later, mountains of monster carcasses began accumulating outside the Guardians’ encampment. Having slaughtered the beasts single-handedly, Seo Hae-gun dragged their butchered corpses directly onto the foreigners’ doorstep.

The grisly heaps swiftly mounted beyond what the Guardians could dispose of—a staggering tally that dwarfed the coalition’s combined hunting haul over the entire preceding year.

Ultimately, after weeks of having monster corpses dumped at their doorstep, the International Association raised the white flag. Bowed under the combined pressure of the Korean government and Seo Hae-gun, they withdrew the Guardians and handed over full jurisdiction the moment Seo Hae-gun founded the Cheongho Guild.

“Mmh…” Eui-rim murmured.

Glancing through the comments trailing beneath the article, Eui-rim slipped the phone back into his jacket pocket. Even without reading further, he could easily guess what people had written.

A tangled knot of yearning, adoration, gratitude, guilt, pride, envy, and bitter resentment.