#74
Seo Yi-young realized a moment too late that his strength had been completely depleted. He needed to heal himself quickly before losing consciousness. He felt urgent as sensation disappeared from his fingertips. Though his consciousness was fading, a faint light managed to gather at his fingertips.
“…Haa.”
Fortunately, his self-heal was successful. That was close. If he had failed, he might have been carried out of the dungeon by another hunter. He felt relieved that he had narrowly avoided creating such an embarrassing scene as a healer.
“Hunter Seo, are you okay? Can you recognize me?”
“Yes. I can see you clearly. I’m fine. Thank you for catching me.”
Seo Yi-young stood up immediately.
“But, are you alright, Hunter Joo? No injuries anywhere?”
“I’m… I’m fine, but honestly, I don’t know what happened. I definitely remember pushing you away…”
He still didn’t seem to understand what had happened. Understandably so.
Another hunter who had been looking back and forth between Seo Yi-young and Joo-in with wide eyes and an open mouth was about to jump in with an explanation, but Seo Yi-young spoke first.
“For now, explanations can wait. Let’s prepare to leave the dungeon.”
Seo Yi-young patted Joo-in’s back reassuringly. There wasn’t much time left before the dungeon closed. Just as Seo Yi-young was about to leave, something caught his eye nearby.
“Just a moment, please.”
After asking for understanding, Seo Yi-young quickly ran over. When he returned, he had a pair of scissors in his hand. As they passed through the door, he felt a slight dizziness. Having grown accustomed to this sensation, it wasn’t as difficult as the first time.
“Did you drop something on the floor?”
“Oh, I saw this there. Let’s go.”
Seo Yi-young answered while fiddling with the scissors.
“Was this there? You have good eyes, Hunter Seo. But it looks a bit unusual?”
“Haha. It does, right? This is my first time seeing something like this too.”
He responded naturally while gripping the scissors.
Observing the others’ reactions, it seemed they couldn’t see what he was seeing.
Seo Yi-young hadn’t just picked up the scissors because he saw them. He knew they were there because an item window had appeared in mid-air. This was the first time this had happened.
[???
Black-handled gardening scissors.
An item someone treasured. Shows signs of use.
Used for cutting flowers. Professional grade.]
If the others could see this detailed description window, they wouldn’t have said it looked unusual. He had picked up items from new-type dungeons before, but this was the first time such a window had appeared. Something had definitely changed. What difference could have caused this? Seo Yi-young looked down at the scissors in his hand, lost in thought.
“Um, but… I was definitely dead, right?”
As Joo-in spoke these words, a heavy silence fell as if the air had suddenly stopped moving. Seo Yi-young also stopped his train of thought and looked up. The gazes of all the hunters focused on him.
“…Thank you so much. Really, I had given up. I just thought… it would be better if Hunter Seo survived instead of me…”
Joo-in’s voice trembled with emotion.
Hearing Joo-in’s words, Seo Yi-young let out a small sigh. If survival were determined by whether someone wished for your survival or not, it would have been Joo-in who returned alive, not Seo Yi-young. If he died, there were people who would mourn him. People who would feel grief so deep they could drown in their own tears. But Seo Yi-young had no one.
No one who would feel heartbreaking sorrow over his death.
“I didn’t know you had that kind of ability.”
Seo Yi-young agreed. Even he hadn’t thought something like this would be possible.
He couldn’t tell whether this was an ability the original Seo Yi-young had possessed but never used. Perhaps because the ability itself was so unbelievable, requiring an enormous amount of mana and physical strength, the previous Seo Yi-young had never used it. But that didn’t make sense—the premium this ability would bring was extraordinary, and there was no obvious reason to hide it.
The ability to resurrect the dead.
Isn’t this the ultimate ability a healer could possess?
Unless you were a fool, there would be no reason to hide this.
But whatever reason the previous Seo Yi-young had for hiding it didn’t matter. What mattered was that the current Seo Yi-young had brought Joo-in back to life. It was only a matter of time before this story spread.
He would have to deal with whatever was said.
Not all the talk would be positive. Some might take issue with the fact that Seo Yi-young had concealed this ability until now. But for the moment, he decided to focus on the fact that Joo-in had returned alive. Seo Yi-young looked at him and smiled.
“Now you can tell your mother you love her in person.”
Joo-in nodded, his voice muffled as he tried to hold back tears.
*
Ding-dong.
Seo Yi-young pressed the doorbell once and waited for a response from inside.
He had planned to investigate the item he’d collected from the new-type dungeon, but after hearing news about Choi Do-jun, he couldn’t just sit still.
While Seo Yi-young was in the dungeon, Choi Do-jun had also been scheduled for a dungeon raid.
He was the only S-Class combat hunter on the team, but the grade of the new-type dungeon wasn’t beyond Choi Do-jun’s capabilities. Nevertheless, there had been casualties. Two deaths. Coincidentally, both were support hunters, which had led to protests from the Support Hunters’ Association.
This had happened just four days ago.
Normally, he wouldn’t have reacted this way. But recently, voices had been rising about terminology reform and rights advancement, arguing that the designation “support hunter” itself instilled a wrong perception about non-combat hunters, so the timing was particularly bad.
The fact that the other combat hunters who had entered with them emerged from the dungeon with only minor injuries seemed to have sparked controversy in the association.
After attending the funeral of the deceased support hunters and seeing them off, Choi Do-jun had reportedly secluded himself. Although the attitudes of the bereaved families had gradually softened over time, there was footage of the families of the support hunters confronting Choi Do-jun with agitated faces right after they emerged from the dungeon and the deaths were announced. His agency had simply stated that he was resting after the dungeon raid, but given the circumstances, public attention was focused on him.
This was understandable, as it had been years since a death had occurred in a raid team that Choi Do-jun was part of. Debates about why this had happened were raging across the internet and news outlets.
The situation seemed unsettling. He couldn’t just assume Choi Do-jun would handle it on his own.
Seo Yi-young stared at the door, which showed no response. Was he not home? Where could he have gone?
Feeling anxious, he grabbed the doorknob and pulled. But.
“…Huh?”
The door opened.
He had expected it to be secured with an automatic lock, but looking at it now… it was broken from the inside. It seemed like Choi Do-jun had been unable to control his strength and had caused this accident. The fact that he couldn’t even regulate something like this made Seo Yi-young increasingly concerned.
Surely he wouldn’t report this as trespassing for entering.
“…Choi Do-jun…?”
Seo Yi-young carefully entered and called his name, but there was no answer. What greeted him was an eerily quiet home. There wasn’t a trace of human presence. Thinking he might not be home after all, Seo Yi-young still decided to check the bedroom.
Choi Do-jun was sitting motionless on the bed, dressed in a black suit. He had his arms on his knees, his hands clasped in front of his forehead, completely still. Judging by his attire, it seemed he had returned after the funeral and hadn’t even changed his clothes.
The silence was deeper than quietness, almost crushing. He appeared to want to block any approach from others. But Seo Yi-young couldn’t just turn back now.
“So you’re here.”
Seo Yi-young’s voice broke the stagnant air. But Choi Do-jun didn’t respond.
Seo Yi-young didn’t press for an answer. When a teammate you entered a dungeon with dies, you can’t possibly be unaffected. No matter how much experience you have in dungeons, no matter how many mobs you’ve killed, you can never get used to the shock of losing a comrade. No human could witness someone die before their eyes and feel nothing. And Choi Do-jun…
“…”
The Choi Do-jun that Seo Yi-young knew was someone who was more sincere about protecting team members than anyone else. At first glance, he might seem like someone who simply enjoyed hunting mobs, but from what Seo Yi-young felt, it wasn’t just that. If killing mobs was his only goal, he could have just advanced alone without caring whether the other hunters were attacked or not, but he never did that.
Seo Yi-young spoke.
“Can I sit beside you?”
“…”
Choi Do-jun gave no answer. But he didn’t tell him to leave either.
Seo Yi-young carefully approached him. All the while, Choi Do-jun didn’t shift his gaze from the floor. His shoulders seemed to be slumped.
How could he describe this sight? Seo Yi-young couldn’t readily think of the right word. But soon, one came to mind. Dejected. Yes. That fit perfectly.
This was the first time he had seen Choi Do-jun so dejected.
He never thought he would see Choi Do-jun like this. Which made his heart all the more unsettled.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
