“That’s right. If it doesn’t work, we’ll just try again… Wait, what are you trying to do?”
He thought he might’ve misheard, but unfortunately, Kim Sibaek’s hearing was just fine. Tae Woon, cheeks flushed, gave him a soft, almost mischievous smile.
“You don’t think I’d crawl on all fours in front of you? You used to crawl around carrying me on your back, remember?”
“Don’t twist childhood piggyback rides into something weird…!”
“If you really want to stop wasting time and get serious, should I start crawling now?”
“You’ve got some kind of built-in filter that lets you ignore whatever I say, don’t you?”
“Yup.”
Sibaek smacked Tae Woon lightly on the mouth to shut him up, but instead of stopping, Tae Woon grabbed his hand and started kissing it with exaggerated smooch sounds.
“You know your hands drive me crazy. Offering them up like this—isn’t that just your way of feeding me something delicious?”
That might’ve flown under different circumstances, but there was a minor right there in the room.
Before Tae Woon’s mouth could spit out something even more inappropriate, Sibaek’s phone rang. It was Moon Sunghui. Seizing the moment as Tae Woon clicked his tongue and stepped back, Sibaek quickly answered.
— Hello? Mentor?
“Yes, Captain. What’s going on?”
— Oh, nothing urgent. I thought I’d swing by to see Junseo and do a bit of volunteering with Gaeun on our day off. Some of our shelter kids go too. If you’ve got anything you want to pass on to Junseo, let me know.
Park Junseo. He was the kid who had recently served as the host of an Eid Portal. Tae Woon had told Sibaek just the other day that he’d been admitted to Somang Orphanage, which happened to have space available.
Naturally, the nuns who once cared for him and his siblings came to mind. If their hearts hadn’t changed despite all the chaos in the world, then Junseo would now be in far better hands than he ever was with his father. That was enough.
Sibaek ran a hand down his face before answering. There was no need to form unnecessary attachments.
“Nothing in particular.”
— …Ah, I see.
Apparently, Sunghui hadn’t expected such a firm cutoff. Her reply came with a touch of awkward surprise.
After the call ended, Tae Woon leaned in, nosy as ever.
“Did I hear something about Somang Orphanage?”
“Captain’s heading over to volunteer. Figured she’d check in on Junseo too.”
“Sunghui noona used to go all the time.”
He’d started to casually call her “Moon Sunghui,” but realized Sibaek was right there and quickly corrected himself, snapping his fingers as if that would erase the slip.
“You know, that quest? You could totally clear it just by going to the orphanage with us.”
Sibaek called Sunghui again and asked. She readily agreed. On their day off, the group headed out together toward Somang Orphanage. Naturally, Tae Woon was seated right next to Kim Sibaek like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Are you seriously off again today?”
“Come on, hyung. I’ve got a mountain of unused leave. Worked like a dog, never took a break—now I’m cashing in.”
“…Is that so?”
Still unsure whether even bosses got official leave—thanks to the labyrinth-level difficulty of checking anything online—Kim Sibaek just tilted his head and let it go.
They arrived at the orphanage not long after. Aside from one minor disaster—where everyone, especially Moon Sunghui, looked like their eyes were about to pop out when Tae Woon casually called her “Sunghui noona”—everything went smoothly. Sister Benedicta came out to greet them at the gate with a warm smile.
The building had changed since the move to Daejeon, but the people hadn’t. The head nun Sibaek had once known had passed away from old age, and Sister Benedicta—the one who had looked after him since the day he arrived—had taken her place.
She’d been the first person to hold him warmly in her arms who wasn’t his mother. She’d encouraged him when he swore to find his younger brother, and when he gave up fencing, she’d grieved with him like it was her own wound. Now, in that same gentle voice, she said:
“Welcome. I heard from Gaeun and Sunghui that you’d be coming.”
She greeted Kim Sibaek with a bright smile, even though he was a stranger to her now. He looked at her—deeper wrinkles on her face than he remembered, but even more serene and kind—and gave a faint smile as he bowed.
“I heard you’re pretty close with Woonie too?”
When he glanced over, Tae Woon was off in his own world, pretending to admire the distant mountains.
“I’ve heard plenty of stories, Sister. About how you single handedly fed all the Seoul refugees.”
“Oh, that’s a bit of an exaggeration.”
Sister Benedicta was an S-rank Awakener who could accelerate plant growth and enrich their nutrients. During Seoul’s isolation, her powers were absolutely essential for keeping the refugees alive.
The moment old tales bordering on heroic feats came up, Benedicta looked a little bashful. Seo Gaeun jumped in with a playful jab.
“We’ve got living proof! Thanks to your crops, I turned out tall and ripped, didn’t I?”
“Look at her. Always running away when it was time to eat carrots, and now she talks big.”
“You chased me down and stuffed them in my mouth! I still don’t understand how you managed to catch me even after I Awakened!”
As the group laughed and chatted, Benedicta introduced the two other nuns who’d come out with her.
“Thanks for helping today. This is Sister Katarina, and this is Sister Hyoju Agnes.”
Everyone else had volunteered regularly, so Kim Sibaek was the only unfamiliar face. He exchanged light greetings with them, but the moment his eyes landed on Sister Hyoju Agnes—who stood quietly at the edge—he was struck by a jarring wave of déjà vu.
It hit him like a blow to the back of the head.
The slightly upturned, almond-shaped eyes. A dimple that only appeared on her left cheek. Soft features traced along a somewhat broad face. Together, they formed the unmistakable outline of a woman Kim Sibaek could never forget.
…Mother?
The woman standing before him looked like she had been plucked straight from his memories—an almost perfect replica of his mother from long ago. But that couldn’t be. If she were still alive, his mother would be close to seventy. Sister Hyoju Agnes, in contrast, looked no older than her mid-thirties.
“Um, Hunter? Is something wrong?”
His dazed stare must’ve gone on too long. Hyoju Agnes tilted her head, her expression puzzled. Snapping back to himself, Kim Sibaek stepped back, flustered.
“…Sorry. You reminded me of someone I used to know.”
“I hear that a lot. Must be one of those common faces.”
She answered with a bright, cheerful smile.
…Definitely not his mother. She’d never once smiled at him like that.
The fact that a smile was what confirmed she wasn’t his mother left a strange bitterness in his chest. Kim Sibaek let out a quiet sigh, unaware of the way Tae Woon’s gaze lingered—silent, but growing heavier by the second.
“Ugh! This is so unfair! Who plays like they’re in a championship game when it’s just soccer with a bunch of kids?!”
“A lion still gives its all, even when hunting a rabbit. Would you rather be treated like a child and sacrifice your pride?”
“I don’t care about pride—I just wanna win!”
“Disgraceful. You’ve let your company down.”
Coming from Seo Gaeun—who until a few years ago had actually held the rank of company commander—it was more than just a joke. She even clasped her hands behind her back, putting on her best commanding officer voice as she bounced the soccer ball off her foot. The kids squealed and charged her with noisy excitement. Even Park Seo-jun, who had been hanging back awkwardly, was now fully immersed in the group.
“Woof!”
While the chaos unfolded, Kim Sibaek had stepped aside to cool down when he suddenly felt something wet on his hand. He looked down to see Moong-i licking his fingers, tail wagging furiously.
This fluffy, snow-white Jindo was the reason Tae Woon had said he could complete his quest here. The orphanage had been raising him for the past two years. Apparently, Park Junseo’s dog would be brought here soon as well, once it was discharged from the animal hospital.
Kim Sibaek picked up the boomerang Moong-i had dropped at his feet and tossed it across the field.
“Ruff! Ruff!”
Moong-i bolted after it with joyful barks, tail wagging like a blur. When he came trotting back with the toy in his mouth, Sibaek gave his head a rough pat, making the dog wiggle in pure delight.
[Quest 12. CLEAR]
[Okay, sure—counting soccer with kids and a dog running around as “time spent” feels like a stretch, but hey, we’re feeling generous today. The system always supports our Returnee! ㅇㅅ<)r☆]
An hour had already passed without him noticing. The game had made time fly.
But even more than the cleared quest, something else weighed on his mind.
You might meet someone you miss.
That line kept echoing in his head. She wasn’t his mother—he knew that now. But still, that eerie sense of recognition lingered.
A system that clearly watched his every move. The strange, loaded phrasing from the Eid Portal quest. Tae Woon, who somehow knew there was a dog at the orphanage. A nun who looked just like his mother.
All of it chipped away at his composure, feeding a slow, creeping anxiety he couldn’t shake.
