Chapter 48

Maintaining as composed an expression as possible, Eui-rim replied, “I’m worried about the healer who joined the Isolation Ward raid in my place. If he’s regained consciousness by now, I’d like to pay him a visit.”

After hurriedly packing his luggage, Eui-rim headed down to the lobby. Seated in the lounge, Ahn Moonhyuk greeted him warmly, waving enthusiastically without the slightest care for whether onlookers recognized him.

“How’s your physical condition? Has the dizziness eased up a bit?”

Removing his sunglasses, Moonhyuk inquired after Eui-rim’s condition in a booming, jovial voice. Judging by the clarity in his eyes and healthy complexion, he seemed to have enjoyed a sound night’s sleep.

Offering a polite nod, Eui-rim smiled. Good. His mood seems much better than yesterday. He might as well take this chance to express the gratitude he hadn’t managed to convey yesterday. Since there had been no room for conversation back then, thanking him while they were alone was for the best.

“Yes, thanks to you, I’ve recovered,” Eui-rim said. “I was truly grateful for yesterday.”

“What did I even do? I didn’t do a thing.”

…Did I speak too soon?

Watching self-deprecation and guilt cloud Moonhyuk’s previously radiant face made Eui-rim uneasy. Had getting reprimanded by Hae-gun hurt his feelings that deeply? Sarcastic barbs hardly seemed like a rare occurrence from the Guild Master, so taking it so hard suggested Moonhyuk was unexpectedly delicate on the inside.

“Still, without your Divine Steed summon, things would have been extremely difficult.”

“Drop it. No need to comfort me. He was just stating facts.”

Though Eui-rim had tried his absolute best, it seemed in vain. Thinking back to his clinic days, he had often heard remarks like, ‘Good grief, Healer Kang, you really have no knack for comforting people.’

In that case, there was no helping it. At times like this, actions spoke louder than words.

“No, I mean it sincerely.”

Eui-rim rolled up his sleeve to reveal his bruised arm. The eyes that had been mourning their owner’s uselessness instantly rounded like saucers. Staring blankly at Eui-rim’s wrist, Moonhyuk clicked his tongue in pure horror.

“Whoa. That happened just from riding it once? It’s a miracle your wrist didn’t snap!”

“If I had been running on foot without Divine Steed, it might very well have broken.”

“Good grief, man. Are you sure it’s safe for you to run around with us? Someone’s going to get killed at this rate. You said healing skills don’t work on you either. Shouldn’t you be raising your stats before even thinking about clearing dungeons?”

“Actually, he suggested we train together before entering the next dungeon,” Eui-rim said.

“Who? The Guild Master? When?” Moonhyuk asked.

“We spoke briefly over breakfast this morning.”

“…Pardon?”

In an instant, the rapid-fire barrage of questions ground to a dead halt. Moonhyuk took a step back, his face twisting into a grimace of sheer, conflicted disbelief.

“You two… had breakfast together?”

“Yes.”

“You sat facing each other and ate? Where?”

“In my room.”

“That is absurd.”

With all due respect, I’m the one who finds this absurd. Is sharing a single meal something to be cross-examined over like a crime?

“No, how on earth did you share a table? I can understand Hunter Kang being fine seeing the Guild Master without his mask, but the Guild Master himself? Did that man not curse or run off to throw up halfway through because his stomach turned?”

“…He did nothing of the sort.”

In fact, Hae-gun had cleaned every plate so thoroughly it had been startling. Anyone watching would have assumed he had starved for three days given the sheer volume he packed away. Regardless of his solid build, wondering where all that food went had led Eui-rim to wonder whether Hae-gun had been a competitive eater in a past life rather than an archer.

“Is it truly that shocking?” Eui-rim asked.

Though Eui-rim had heard the explanation directly from Hae-gun’s own mouth, it still felt unreal. Hae-gun becoming so nauseated by the sight of other people eating that his stomach turned—it sounded like a conspiracy theory concocted out of thin air.

“Next time you have a meal with the Guild Master, could you please invite me along? I’ll just sit quietly to the side and watch.”

“No.”

The flat refusal cut in before Eui-rim could even formulate an answer.

“Ack, holy shit! You scared the hell out of me!”

Startled by the sudden intrusion, Eui-rim turned to find Hae-gun narrowing his eyes at Moonhyuk. Through the eyeholes of the white mask he wore, his irises—tinged with a brownish hue distinct from his usual look—gleamed beneath the lobby chandeliers.

“You startled me! My liver nearly dropped out of my chest.”

“You shouldn’t blame me for your own dull senses.”

“Look, can’t you just wear your usual mask? It’s hard enough adjusting after coming out of a dungeon, but looking like some chubby, round-faced ajussi is driving me insane. I can’t recognize you at all.”

“I find this one more comfortable. The black one looks too menacing, so everyone avoids me.”

Listening to their banter, the contents of the warning window crossed Eui-rim’s mind, drawing his brows together.

[Intensification of existential dissonance and aversion (Applied to all restarted beings)] That was what it said.

If so, would the uncanny aversion people experienced toward Hae-gun vanish once he regained his complete form, as the warning had stated?

“…”

Most likely, yes.

In the previous life, Hae-gun had made frequent public appearances and never wore a mask. Ordinary people could see him without venturing anywhere near a dungeon, often posting firsthand accounts raving about his striking appearance.

How did I manage to completely forget that? Did I lose a portion of my memories when I crossed the timeline, too? Unless that were the case, such a lapse made no sense.

“By the way, did you seriously eat breakfast with Hunter Kang?” Moonhyuk rounded on his Guild Master. “You’ve never once shared a meal with me. Are you discriminating based on looks or something?”

“Coming from someone who won’t even let me pull down my mask, you sure have a lot of complaints. Could you sit across from my bare face and eat?”

“No. That sounds pretty rough.”

“See?”

“Still, you hate eating together even inside dungeons! Last time you saw me eating a rice ball, you said it turned your stomach and walked away!”

“…Ah, right. Eui-rim-ssi, could you give me your wrist for a second?”

Did he not just breeze past Moonhyuk’s complaints with incredible smoothness?

“Can you even hear my voice?!”

“No. Not that hand. The injured one.”

Glancing at Moonhyuk’s dumbfounded reaction as he offered his hand, Eui-rim watched Hae-gun gesture toward the other wrist while pulling something from his jacket pocket. Lightly pushing back Eui-rim’s sleeve, Hae-gun revealed a tube of ointment.

“What is this?” Eui-rim asked.

“I heard it works well on bruises, so I bought some.”

Hae-gun had mentioned stopping somewhere earlier; apparently, he had dropped by a pharmacy in the meantime. Eui-rim stared at him in stunned disbelief.

A simple cold compress and a few days of rest would have sufficed for something like this. He felt flustered that Hae-gun had gone out of his way to such an extent.

Squeezing a generous dollop of ointment onto the bruised skin, Hae-gun worked it in with gentle, circular strokes. Perhaps due to the thick calluses coating his fingertips, each pass across the flesh created a tickling friction that made Eui-rim’s shoulders hunch involuntarily.

“If you’re going to work hard raising your stats,” Hae-gun said, gently rubbing the ointment in, “we need to tend to any sore spots quickly.”

Yet that tickling warmth instantly morphed into a chill. Picturing the grueling trials awaiting him in training, Eui-rim froze so stiffly he couldn’t even muster a polite smile.

Hae-gun’s eyes curved with mischievous amusement, evidently finding the reaction entertaining. The mouth concealed beneath the mask was undoubtedly grinning as well. Eui-rim didn’t even need to look to know.

When Eui-rim subtly pulled his wrist free and stepped back, he caught a starkly contrasting sight. Moonhyuk, who had been loudly asking if anyone could hear him only moments before, was staring at his Guild Master with an utterly bizarre, unreadable expression.

Not that Hae-gun paid the slightest mind to the glare, adding smoothly, “And I checked with the Association—the accompanying healer didn’t suffer a severe debuff. It looks like his quarantine will be lifted tonight, so visiting tomorrow should work out fine.”

“That’s faster than I expected,” Eui-rim said. “I thought it would take more time.”

“He had some degree of debuff resistance, it seems.”

“Wait, what happened?” Moonhyuk asked, leaning in.

“A hallucination debuff incident occurred in a B-rank dungeon,” Hae-gun answered.

Moonhyuk’s face drained of color in an instant. Frantically pulling out his phone, his eyes darted across the news articles in rapid succession.

Watching him, Eui-rim turned his head, drawn by an uncomfortably persistent stare. Instinctively lifting his gaze, he found Hae-gun watching him, the playful amusement from moments ago entirely gone.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Eui-rim asked.

“No reason. It’s nothing,” Hae-gun replied.

“…”

“Just thinking that you’re needlessly kind,” Hae-gun said at last.

Eui-rim could offer no response to the words that followed.

In that brief instant, words caught in his throat, leaving him rooted to the spot.

“Let’s head out. The car is waiting,” Hae-gun said.

Pressing the tube of ointment into Eui-rim’s hand, Hae-gun briefly rested a hand on his shoulder before turning away.

Slowly uncurling his fingers, Eui-rim looked down at the slightly crumpled tube. Perhaps because Hae-gun had been holding it the entire time, its lukewarm metal warmed his palm.

Eui-rim hastily shoved the ointment into his pocket and tugged down his sleeve. Though the salve had only been applied to his wrist, an inexplicable warmth surged through him, bringing a lingering flush to his skin.