Chapter 24

The Cheongho Guild Master was making a personal move. Waiting for him outside the health center on his resignation day without prior notice meant there had to be serious business.

Instead of answering, Seo Hae-gun reached up and pulled off his black mask. The sudden reveal of his striking features hit with such force that Eui-rim momentarily forgot to breathe. Can’t he just keep his face covered in public? Sitting this close to him in broad daylight felt suffocating.

“Maybe I just came to give you a ride home,” Hae-gun said.

“Excuse me?”

At Eui-rim’s flat disbelief, Hae-gun’s lips curled with amused mischief.

Is that a joke? Or is he being serious?

If the latter, it only made things more complicated. While not impossible, unless Hae-gun was on the verge of losing his mind from sheer boredom, there was zero reason for him to act as a chauffeur.

“It’s a joke,” Hae-gun relented with a quiet laugh.

As Eui-rim remained frozen in deadpan silence, the lighthearted confession cleared the air.

Thank goodness. It was a joke.

Tapping a preset address on the navigation screen, Hae-gun steered the car into the street. “It’s nothing major. I just want to re-examine your physical condition, Hunter Kang Eui-rim. Are the bruises still there?”

“Ah, yes,” Eui-rim answered.

The deep muscle aches had finally begun to dull and the purple bruises were fading to yellow, but Eui-rim saw no reason to volunteer details.

“Good. Let’s go see whether your immunity to healing is a temporary anomaly or a permanent condition,” Hae-gun said.

“Are we heading to Healer Shim Woo-joo?”

“Yes. Let me know if you want to stop by your apartment first to drop off your luggage.”

“…No, it’s fine. We can go straight there.”

If he had to head right back out anyway, he had no desire to swing by his place. He had very few belongings with him, and getting home late was always a welcome prospect.

Fortunately, Hae-gun had only offered out of basic courtesy and did not press the point. Checking the distance and estimated arrival time on the dashboard, Eui-rim swallowed a quiet sigh. Getting home late was fine, but spending a fifty-minute drive alone in a confined space with Seo Hae-gun made his chest tight. If it were the Hae-gun of his previous life, it might have been different, but the man beside him was still effectively a stranger, making conversation distinctly awkward.

“Mind if I ask you something?”

The precarious silence broke as they merged onto the elevated highway. Tapping his fingers against the wheel, Hae-gun spoke in his characteristically low, smooth timbre.

“Go ahead,” Eui-rim replied.

“The gate to the Mount Gamak hiking trail. How did you open it? You unlocked the code on your second attempt.”

Eui-rim didn’t ask how he knew; the question was long overdue. If that chaotic variable hadn’t erupted on Mount Gamak that day, Hae-gun would have demanded an explanation for the passcode from the very start.

“I heard it from an acquaintance.”

The excuse he squeezed out after a pause felt paper-thin. Even to his own ears it sounded pathetic, but no better lie came to mind.

“An acquaintance, you say…”

Repeating the word slowly, Hae-gun tilted his head. “What kind of acquaintance?”

His tone, softening into quiet curiosity, sent a sudden chill down Eui-rim’s spine. Though Hae-gun asked casually, Eui-rim could tell that the Guild Master wanted nothing more than to identify and bury whoever had leaked that clearance code.

“Just… someone I met by chance.”

“Someone you met by chance gave you a restricted Cheongho entrance code?”

“Yes.”

Hae-gun let out a dry, incredulous chuckle. He clearly assumed Eui-rim was spinning a clumsy lie to protect whoever had leaked it.

“Where on earth did you meet someone to get information like that?” Hae-gun asked.

“…I met him in a bunker. He was a patient of mine.”

At the hesitant reply, the sedan veered slightly on the highway before Hae-gun corrected the steering. If he hadn’t caught himself instantly, he might have slammed the brakes right in the middle of the express lane.

Hae-gun stared at Eui-rim with an expression bordering on sheer disbelief. “I really don’t follow. Care to explain that in detail?”

“It’s exactly as I said. I met him in an underground bunker and learned it by chance. Frankly, I didn’t even realize it was the trail code at first. The numbers just came to mind, I punched them in, and the gate opened.”

Hae-gun clearly didn’t buy a word of it, but instead of pressing further, he asked, “Where is that person now?”

This was another question Eui-rim could not answer truthfully.

Looking down at his hands, Eui-rim answered quietly, “He died.”

“…”

“He didn’t make it out of the bunker.”

Because he sacrificed his life to send me into the past.

You did.

A heavy stillness settled over the car, suffocating the cabin. Eui-rim bit his lip, turning his gaze toward the passing gray scenery beyond the window.

Hae-gun had no idea he was listening to his own obituary, yet speaking those words aloud made Eui-rim’s chest ache with raw sorrow.

Perhaps that was why the words slipped past his lips unbidden. “It’s difficult to talk about right now, but…”

“…”

“When the right time comes, I will explain everything properly.”

“Why can’t you tell me now? Not mentally prepared yet?” Hae-gun asked.

“Something like that.”

To be precise, the prerequisite was establishing genuine trust between them—a point where Hae-gun would fully believe his words, and Eui-rim would no longer fear the man’s volatile power. That would be the time to tell the truth.

“Dear me.”

Letting out an exaggerated sigh, Hae-gun shook his head in mock regret. “What a pity. I was just contemplating how to pry the story out of you.”

Eui-rim didn’t ask what methods he had contemplated, dreading what absurd answers might follow. Certain thoughts revealed themselves plainly in a person’s expression; catching that predatory glint in Hae-gun’s eyes, Eui-rim reaffirmed his resolve to keep his silence.

“Well, delicious food is best saved for later, so I’ll wait patiently,” Hae-gun said smoothly. “Tell me whenever you feel ready.”

Fortunately, Hae-gun backed off without further pressure. Shrugging with unflappable calm, he seemed content to bide his time.

“Then shall we fix how you address me first? Closing the distance might help you prepare mentally a bit faster.”

Just when Eui-rim thought the conversation had settled, it veered off in an unexpected direction.

Gently accelerating, Hae-gun made a proposition, amusement dancing in his voice. “From now on, call me by my name instead of Guild Master.”

The suggestion left Eui-rim temporarily speechless. Before he could even formulate a question, Hae-gun chuckled, clearly enjoying his confusion, and added, “Or you can call me hyung.”

After a fierce tug-of-war, the agreed-upon title was none other than ‘Seo Hae-gun-ssi.’ Hae-gun had lobbied relentlessly for ‘Hae-gun-hyung’ until the bitter end, but that was an address Eui-rim refused to utter even if struck dead.

Hyung? He had never called anyone hyung in his entire life; how on earth could he say that to Seo Hae-gun?

Rolling the awkward ‘Seo Hae-gun-ssi’ over the tip of his tongue, Eui-rim grimaced. Settling on ‘Hunter Seo Hae-gun’ as he had originally proposed would have felt far more natural. It was frustrating that such a standard title had been dismissed on the grounds that it lacked warmth.

Even so, he couldn’t reject the olive branch Hae-gun had extended simply because it felt awkward. In its own way, this was Hae-gun’s brand of patience and consideration. An S-rank hunter of his caliber could easily force compliance if he wished; for him to choose patience over coercion was good fortune Eui-rim couldn’t take for granted.

…Good grief.

Yet the more he reflected, the more irrational his hesitation felt. With Hae-gun being this accommodating, Eui-rim could have simply confided the truth. Why was the memory of a single punch holding him back from fully trusting the man?

Would it have been better if he hadn’t held expectations from the start? Probably. If the Seo Hae-gun of his past timeline hadn’t been so kind to him at the very end, he might have maintained a firmer emotional barrier. He wouldn’t have felt this gnawing sense of alienation seeing Hae-gun act like a stranger.

“We’re here,” Hae-gun announced.

While Eui-rim was lost in thought, the car turned into a quiet alley and drew up before an off-white security wall. Glancing at what was unmistakably a luxury residential compound, Eui-rim asked, “Does Healer Shim Woo-joo practice here?”

“She adores working from home,” Hae-gun replied, amusement tingeing his voice.

In short, her residence doubled as her clinic. A comfortable arrangement. If Kang Yura heard about this, she would have wailed with envy.

A moment later, Hae-gun made a brief phone call, and the reinforced gates slid open. What appeared to be a solid off-white wall parted down the middle, admitting the sedan into the compound.

The gate opened not into a garden, but directly into an expansive subterranean garage. It was spacious enough to feature a dedicated visitor section, though the most striking sight was a pristine line of exotic supercars parked in single file.

Surveying the luxury fleet occupying half the garage, Eui-rim felt a reflexive pang of intimidation. The sight of such lavish wealth gleaming beneath the recessed spotlights was dizzying.

The moment they parked in the visitor bay, a private elevator slid open nearby. Curiously, there were no buttons on the console inside; everything from floor selection to door operation appeared fully automated.

“It didn’t leave a scar, did it?” Hae-gun asked while they waited, having quietly studied Eui-rim’s face.

Was he actually worried about that? Reflexively touching his cheek, Eui-rim answered, “No, it healed cleanly. I had an effective ointment on hand.”