Chapter 15

Of course, far more staggering than the voice was the man’s face. Eui-rim never expected he would be admiring someone’s looks in a dire situation like this, but Seo Hae-gun’s features were unreal enough to make such absurdity feel completely natural. Seeing him in the flesh was so flawless that every photograph and video he had ever seen might as well have been a distorted imitation.

He resembled a masterpiece carved from porcelain and jade, an archangel descending from high heavens—or perhaps, far more accurately, an aristocratic demon born to ensnare the mortal realm.

Ha… An exhale of awe slipped out like a dry chuckle, an almost conditioned reflex. Looking at a person who was hard to believe belonged to the same species either way, Eui-rim twisted the corner of his lips.

Right. So this is what his face looks like when it hasn’t been devoured by shadows. Now I understand why Seo Hae-gun’s fans back then raved that ‘the real deal can only be seen in person.’

Whew

The light whistle snapped his dazed mind back to reality. Blinking in surprise, he saw that Seo Hae-gun had already cast a skill, leveling a stream of water suspended in midair straight at him.

“How did you slip past the perimeter?” Hae-gun asked, his gray-blue eyes devoid of warmth. “Did you fail to read the ‘Authorized Personnel Only’ warning?”

…This is no time to gawk like an idiot. In this timeline, they were absolute strangers meeting for the first time. In his immense relief at finding the man alive and whole, Eui-rim had momentarily lost sight of his perilous reality.

Should he be grateful that Hae-gun hadn’t severed him in two like a monster?

Eui-rim raised both hands as if surrendering. To Seo Hae-gun’s eyes, he would look like an illegal trespasser popping out of nowhere, so he needed to soften that vigilance even a fraction.

“I apologize, Guild Master. I know this is a restricted zone…” Eui-rim bowed his head as far as his trembling knees permitted. “…but I had no other means of reaching you.”

“You came to see me?” Hae-gun repeated, tilting his head with cold amusement.

Though he spoke with utmost caution, Seo Hae-gun remained utterly indifferent. Gaze devoid of the slightest hint of interest, the hunter appraised Eui-rim from head to toe like an insignificant object.

A taut, suffocating silence stretched between them.

Fwip!

In a flash, a chilling wind grazed past him.

There was no time to register what had moved. Clapping a hand to his stinging right cheek, Eui-rim spun toward a thunderous crash behind him: an ancient pine had collapsed like felled timber. Next to the shattered trunk lay the bisected carcass of the annelid, cleanly severed by a supersonic torrent.

Pulling his fingers away from his face, Eui-rim found his palm slick with crimson. What had felt like a faint breeze had sliced through his flesh; the laceration was deceptively deep, bleeding profusely down his jawline.

“You came to meet me when you can’t even dodge a stray droplet?” Hae-gun asked with a mocking smirk.

The jet of water that had grazed his cheek and obliterated the tree had already returned to Seo Hae-gun’s side.

Eui-rim stared at the spiraling liquid lance and swallowed his rising panic.

At this rate, I’ll be executed on the spot. I have to neutralize his suspicion before any real dialogue can begin.

When Eui-rim showed no overt reaction, Seo Hae-gun appeared all the more suspicious. The narrowing of his eyes, laden with even deeper distrust, proved as much. After observing him for a while, Hae-gun finally recalled the stream of water. “Seeing as you’re standing here intact, you don’t look like a civilian. Who are you?”

“Just an ordinary heal… an ordinary hunter,” Eui-rim stammered.

In his flustered haste, he had nearly identified himself as a healer. Old professional habits were terrifyingly stubborn. Swallowing hard, Eui-rim wiped the blood trickling past his chin.

“You definitely aren’t combat-oriented,” Hae-gun noted, his voice smooth and probing. “A mental-type awakened? Somewhere around A-rank?”

Hm. Overestimating my rank with such generous leeway is exactly what he did in the previous timeline.

Still, it was sheer luck that he hadn’t betrayed his fluster. Judging by the conversations they had shared in his previous life, Seo Hae-gun seemed to grow more intrigued the calmer his counterpart remained. If he kept up a composed facade this time as well, he might be able to draw him into a real conversation.

Back then, however, amid the ruins of the apocalypse, the man had harbored no reason to distrust him. Facing this razor-sharp, guarded gaze felt profoundly disorienting.

Shaking off useless nostalgia, Eui-rim answered steadily, “No. I’m only D-rank.”

“D-rank?” Hae-gun repeated, his brows lifting in genuine disbelief.

It was clearly not the response he had anticipated. Hae-gun’s eyes widened a fraction; on a face so meticulously sculpted, even that subtle twitch transformed his entire demeanor. The faint tilt of his lips carried the effortless grace of a master’s brushstroke. It was utterly absurd to admire his captor’s elegance at swordpoint, but the man was simply undeniable.

“How interesting,” Hae-gun murmured.

After a long silence, the words Seo Hae-gun uttered were the same phrase from the past. Blinking blankly, Eui-rim gulped as he watched the man soften somewhat compared to before.

Did I manage to lower his guard, even just a little?

A chill crept down Eui-rim’s spine. If this was a sign of Hae-gun’s vigilance easing, they might finally be able to talk without drawing blades.

“Ugh!” Eui-rim gasped.

Just then, a large, solid hand clamped around Eui-rim’s jaw. Before he could even think to resist, a brutish force yanked him forward.

Eui-rim grimaced at the searing pain in his cheek. As the grip tightened against his jaw, a groan bubbled up from the back of his throat. Straining to lift his gaze, he saw a peculiar gleam flickering within those navy-blue eyes. A light resembling a comet’s tail swept across irises radiant as the night sky, and soon, his pupils were dyed in technicolor, flashing with an eerie brilliance.

Just as he had done during their first encounter in the ruined bunker, Seo Hae-gun had activated ⟨Mirror Gaze⟩.

“You’re D-rank all right,” Hae-gun said, “but I can’t read a single one of your skills.”

“Urrgh…” Eui-rim groaned through clenched teeth.

“You aren’t some disguised phantom-species monster, are you? That would certainly explain why your aura feels so strange.”

“I’m—kgh—not,” Eui-rim choked out. “You just… verified it with your own skill.”

Instead of answering, Seo Hae-gun simply smiled in silence. In his previous life, he had always smirked like that whenever he didn’t feel like talking. It seemed the habit was alive and well.

Under the crushing pressure of the hunter’s fingers, the laceration on Eui-rim’s cheek tore open further. Blood cascaded over Hae-gun’s knuckles, staining the pale skin with vivid red like the brand of an executioner.

Eui-rim screwed his eyes shut against the pain, fighting to regulate his breathing. The sickening coppery stench of his own blood made his vision swim with nausea.

Then, the semi-transparent status window flashed back into his line of sight. Luminous glyphs on the translucent blue-gray interface rearranged themselves, highlighting the newly resolved entry:

Swallowing a ragged breath, Eui-rim frantically replayed the skill description in his mind.

A constantly active ability that nullifies mental shock?

Did I truly awaken an S-rank mental protection skill?

Come to think of it, ever since regressing, his psychological panic had been eerily subdued. His thoughts had functioned with icy clarity, prioritizing rational deduction over instinctive terror.

Even now, staring down the lethal threat of an S-rank hunter with his face pinned in an iron grip, Eui-rim felt no paralyzing fear. Just as it had been in the subterranean bunker at the end of the world, his mind remained detached and clear—composed enough to analyze Hae-gun’s expression and search for echoes of their past.

“Actually…” Eui-rim forced the words through numb lips, “…I possess a mental barrier skill.”

After hesitating, Eui-rim decided to confess honestly. More than anything, he was certain this topic would pique Seo Hae-gun’s interest.

“A mental barrier?” Hae-gun repeated, his thumb pressing lightly against the bleeding cut.

“Yes. Its grade is… far higher than my hunter rank.” Eui-rim gasped, fighting the pain. “I believe that is why… it deflected your gaze.”

Speaking even a few syllables was excruciating. With his jaw pinned in a vise, his articulation was slurred, and the pungent coppery taste filling his mouth made him gag.

Can’t you just let go? Why do you keep holding onto my face?

“It’s an… S-rank skill,” Eui-rim forced out.

The instant those words left his mouth, the crushing pressure on his jaw abated. The hostility in those blue-gray eyes receded, replaced by an intense, probing curiosity.

“An S-rank skill on a D-rank vessel?” Hae-gun asked, searching his face.

“My thoughts exactly,” Eui-rim managed with a pained grimace.

“Mmm…” Hae-gun hummed quietly.

After a brief silence, the hand pressing down on his face pulled away completely. Eui-rim quietly swallowed a sigh as he watched Seo Hae-gun step back. While hostility and suspicion had not entirely vanished, the man’s gaze had softened noticeably compared to before, as if he had developed a sliver of genuine interest.

“So, what’s the reason you came all the way here to see me?” Hae-gun asked. “Surely you didn’t come just to brag about your skill rank.”

With a subtle flick of his blood-stained wrist, a thin film of water gathered across the hunter’s fingers, flinging the gore cleanly against the tree stump. In a heartbeat, his skin was pristine, as though washed beneath a mountain spring.

That looks pretty handy. While he’s at it, couldn’t he do that for me too?

Eui-rim glanced at Seo Hae-gun’s clean hands before speaking. “It might sound strange, but… I came here because I want to help Hunter Seo Hae-gun.”

“You want to help me?” Seo Hae-gun echoed, amusement dancing in his voice.

“Yes,” Eui-rim affirmed, holding his ground.

“Help me how, exactly?” Hae-gun asked, leaning forward with an intriguing smile.

Looking up, Eui-rim found the Guild Master watching him like a clinical observer. Hae-gun’s cynicism was so pronounced that it was hard to believe he was the same person from the previous timeline—chillingly so.

In the previous life, Hae-gun had seemed like someone who lived purely for amusement. Three years earlier, however, the Guild Master appeared far more calculating, weighed down by quiet deliberation.

Still, it was a relief that the taller man felt more human than he had right before death. At the end, Seo Hae-gun had been beyond detached—transcendent, almost—in a way that had felt profoundly unsettling.