Chapter 74

Though he had bitten off each syllable with frustrated emphasis, he had never dreamed his voice would carry over the din of battle to Chaeyoon.

Meeting her wicked, teasing grin, goosebumps erupted across his neck. Realizing that the entire strike team had probably heard every word, Eui-rim hung his head in sheer mortification.

Why did you do that, Kang Eui-rim? Why bellow it like an emergency broadcast? You don’t even have loud lungs, so what possessed you to announce your romantic preferences to the entire dungeon?

As Eui-rim buried his flaming face in both hands, Chaeyoon caved in the head of the final ghoul, snickering. “Ah, seriously, the more I replay it, the funnier it gets. Especially Kim Si-hoon’s face! That delusional bastard, acting like he’s a prize catch compared to our Guild Master… Anyway, cheer up! You’ve got my vote!”

Waving a cheerful hand as she trotted off, she looked thoroughly delighted with life. Lacking the strength to ask what on earth she was cheering him on for, Eui-rim merely waved a limp hand in return.

Well, whatever. It wasn’t as though Chaeyoon would take his desperate excuse seriously.

I’m just going out of my mind wishing I could genuinely rewind time right now.

…Why can’t time be rewound at will? It doesn’t even truly rewind the universe, only locking targets in a previous state. The skill is infuriatingly stingy.

Eui-rim summoned his status window once more. Thinking about 〈Rewind〉 made him abruptly anxious about whether the temporal seal on the thumb sigil was holding.

If Si-hoon’s testimony was true, the tattoo on the healer’s thumb had likely been carved of his own volition. The man had known that by executing a specific ritual, he could transform the Isolation Ward into a Fragment’s domain.

If so, was the sigil carved into that healer’s thumb… the parasite known as a ‘Seed’ in the previous timeline?

His doubts did not linger long. As he traced the memory in a daze, new lines of data materialized across the open panel.

“…It updated,” Eui-rim murmured.

While not a radical overhaul, having the subcategories broken down with real-time status indicators was immensely useful. Scrutinizing the timer, Eui-rim swallowed dryly.

As expected, 〈Rewind〉 is restricted to a single instance. Until the current seal is released or expires, casting it again is impossible.

The silver lining was that 〈Stop〉 had no usage count attached. As long as his mana held out, he could trigger the temporal freeze repeatedly, making it his primary lifeline in an emergency.

After brief consideration, Eui-rim reviewed his other abilities to ensure nothing had escaped his notice. “Hmm…”

For starters, the mental barrier 〈Shackles of Oblivion〉 remained unchanged. Since it operated entirely below conscious awareness, its static description was neither surprising nor disappointing.

Come to think of it, not a single warning alert triggered even when I stood face-to-face with an S-rank hunter. Normally, an alarm would sound in the presence of overwhelming pressure. But because the barrier was a passive S-rank ability, it seemed to absorb ambient hostility without fanfare.

Yet why does a permanent barrier place zero strain on my mana pool? Since he could neither toggle nor feel the ability, he was beginning to doubt its tangible existence.

“That’s the last one!” Moonhyuk bellowed at the top of his lungs.

Looking up, Eui-rim saw the final ghoul collapse atop the mountain of slaughtered corpses, its cranium smashed to powder.

“Insane. If I’d swung this club three more times, it would’ve split in two.” Chaeyoon caught her breath.

Catching her breath, Chaeyoon displayed her fractured iron bat. Grumbling about how dense the monsters’ skulls had to be to damage an A-rank artifact, she eyed the carnage with undisguised disgust.

Quiet descended only after the last corpse ceased twitching. Suddenly, motes resembling golden fireflies materialized in shimmering brilliance, drifting lazily toward the fractured wall.

The illumination hovered beside the breach in the concrete. Beyond the rubble, a hidden corridor stretched into the dark, branching away from the hospital’s primary layout.

Watching the light hover as if waiting for him, Eui-rim drew a breath and walked over to the trio. “Is everyone uninjured?”

“I’m fine. What about you, Eui-rim-ssi?” Chaeyoon asked, wiping her forehead.

“I’m completely fine. The bracelet absorbed the shock,” Eui-rim said.

At the mention of the bracelet, Hae-gun’s gaze drifted to Kim Si-hoon, still buried under the stones. Eyes heavy with unspoken thoughts, the Guild Master flicked his blades clean of gore. “Moonhyuk-ah. Go dig that thing out.”

“Can’t we just leave him buried? That bastard is annoying as fuck,” Moonhyuk grumbled.

“Shall we?” Hae-gun turned his gaze back to Eui-rim, his brows lifting.

Startled, Eui-rim sputtered foolishly. Having loudly proclaimed to the entire cavern that Hae-gun was his ideal type, simply meeting those blue-gray eyes made his face scorch with embarrassment.

“…No,” Eui-rim managed, clearing his throat. “Before the conversation went off the rails, he mentioned something important. I’d prefer we drag him along to the end.”

“You have questions for him?” Moonhyuk scratched his beard in confusion.

Eui-rim nodded, recounting what Si-hoon had revealed about the rogue healer and the wall.

“Damn. That’s sketchy enough to make a grown man cry,” Moonhyuk spat. Leaning on his halberd like a staff, he looked at Hae-gun. “The healer is bad enough, but aren’t the Association bastards who scrubbed it from the report even worse? They could have briefed you when you went to negotiate with White Noise. Even if Si-hoon’s brains are scrambled, Association management had to know.”

“They were probably thrilled at the thought of Cheongho walking into a meat grinder blind,” Chaeyoon said cynically. “It’s not like the Association withholding intel to screw over our Guild Master is anything new.”

“The report Seonha obtained was an initial draft,” Hae-gun noted. “General Manager Yong was overseas on business, and the domestic bureau had no reason to sabotage this raid. In fact, they were far more cooperative than usual.”

At his reminder, Chaeyoon and Moonhyuk glanced at the Watch of Seclusion on Eui-rim’s wrist. Even allowing for Seonha’s private connections, securing an S-rank defensive artifact was proof the Association was desperate to see this gate cleared.

“Then how do you read it, Guild Master? Do you really think they omitted it by accident?” Chaeyoon asked.

Hae-gun shook his head. “No. It was excluded intentionally. But that doesn’t mean it reflects official policy from the directorate.” Glancing toward Eui-rim, his tone turned grim. “We have to consider the possibility that the rogue healer and whoever altered that report are working in tandem.”

“Accomplices?” Chaeyoon echoed, her eyes widening.

“Yes. Though we will investigate the specifics the moment we step outside,” Hae-gun said.

The grim deduction sent a throb through Eui-rim’s temples. The conspiracy was twisting deeper than he had anticipated, tightening an invisible noose around them.

“Damn it. What a massive headache,” Moonhyuk groaned.

Moonhyuk grimaced in agreement, scratching his thick neck. Only after Chaeyoon shoved him toward the rubble did he lumber over to unearth Kim Si-hoon and retrieve the tethered Divine Steed.

Leaving Moonhyuk to dig out the unconscious guild master, Eui-rim stared into the illuminated side passage. He had an instinctive certainty that the glowing motes marked a shortcut, but he hesitated, unsure how to explain the guidance to the party.

“Is that the path?” a quiet voice asked.

“Pardon?” Eui-rim looked up, startled. Hae-gun was standing beside him, pointing toward the breach with a knowing smile. “You’ve been staring at that wall for the past five minutes.”

“…I’m not completely certain, but I see a trail of golden light,” Eui-rim admitted. “I think it might be tied to my trait.”

Though blurted out without preparation, it was the closest thing to the truth. For several minutes, golden light had been pulsing beside his hidden trait, 〈Pathfinder〉. The guiding stream was undoubtedly its manifestation.

“Then lead the way, Eui-rim-ssi,” Hae-gun said smoothly. “That sounds far more reliable than any directions Kim Si-hoon gave us.”

“…Excuse me?” Eui-rim stammered, stunned.

Did I just hear that right? Am I hallucinating from exhaustion?

“Go on. Lead your ideal type into danger—” Hae-gun leaned down, enunciating every single syllable with wicked amusement. He grinned shamelessly. “—Mmph!”

Clamping both hands firmly over Hae-gun’s mouth, Eui-rim hissed through gritted teeth, “Could you please shut up?”

The stifled snorts—pfft, hahahaha—erupting from Chaeyoon behind them made his sanity fray. Heat roared up from Eui-rim’s collar straight to the roots of his hair, his cheeks blazing so hot he could barely breathe.

Looking up, he found Hae-gun’s blue-gray eyes crinkled into delighted crescents. The arrogant curve of the man’s lips and the warm puff of his breath tickled Eui-rim’s palms, sending fresh waves of mortification crashing through him.

Glaring at the Guild Master who blinked down with mock innocence, Eui-rim yanked his hands away. Rubbing his tingling palms against his trousers to scrub away the sensation of those lips, he marched toward the breach in the wall.

“Wait for me,” Hae-gun called out, chuckling behind him.

Never look back. Keep your eyes forward and walk. Under no circumstances make eye contact with Chaeyoon or that insufferable man.

…Wait. If Chaeyoon heard it, did Ahn Moonhyuk hear it too? He seems on the oblivious side for an A-rank, so can I pray he missed it?

Ignoring Hae-gun striding leisurely at his heel, Eui-rim hurried down the corridor guided by the golden trail. Whether Moonhyuk had heard or not, locating the next sigil was the only way to save what little dignity he had left.

Aaaaargh!

The bloodcurdling scream tore through the corridor the moment the flooring turned slick and viscous beneath their boots.

Halting in his tracks to stare into the pitch-black hallway, Eui-rim felt Hae-gun instantly step in front of him, broad back forming a protective wall.

“Kill me! Please! Someone just kill meee!”

The echoing shriek was no monster’s howl.

It was a human cry saturated in sheer, unadulterated agony.

A scream ripped straight from raw vocal cords.