Justyna gave her right shoulder a couple of light taps with her left fist.
“Back then, I was out of it. I didn’t even get to thank you properly or repay you.”
“It’s fine. I wasn’t expecting anything in return.”
“Oh right, I heard you treat people for free? Is that some kind of humanitarian thing—doing it for the good of mankind?”
“Not quite. Your injury, Guildmaster Yoo, came from hunting monsters. That’s why.”
The truth was, treatments within the 7777 Guild were only free for teammates who’d been assigned the same mission. Sure, it helped boost the guild’s visibility and reputation, but the real reason was to help recover divine power.
Back in Mak Slechth, Kim Sibaek had laid the groundwork for the cult from the ground up, all to spread Biendeoé’s name across the world. If anyone in this convention hall understood the consequences of repeated generosity without return—how kindness could sometimes devalue one’s worth—it was him.
[“Death and Beauty” pats your back, not because you’re being preachy, but because what you said comes from experience and wisdom. So don’t let age bother you.]
“……”
He hadn’t even realized it until he read Biendeoé’s divine words…
Justyna gave him a sly smile, seemingly pleased by his calm but measured answer. In her grin, Kim Sibaek caught the scent of blood—seasoned and sharp. She was probably someone who’d spent her whole life killing monsters and men on the battlefield, just like the generals he’d met in Mak Slechth.
“Glad to see you’re no pushover. So, the Seven Guild lets its Hunters freelance as mercs, huh…”
“Whoa there! No way! Absolutely not!”
Before Kim Sibaek could even get a word out, Na Jungwoo jumped in like a man swatting flies. He threw up a giant X with his arms and blocked Kim Sibaek with his entire body.
“What do you think you’re about to say?”
“You’re about to try recruiting our mentor, obviously!”
“What? All I said was you need approval. It’s not like I’m trying to poach him for our guild.”
“But you are! Just like you did with me!”
“If I’d gotten to you before Minhyung did, you think I could’ve snagged you?”
“M-My loyalty—body, heart, and soul—is pledged to our Strike Team Leader…!”
The conversation was spiraling fast, so Kim Sibaek quietly tuned it out and popped a lychee into his mouth. Just like Biendeoé had said, it was sweet with a faint tang—surprisingly nice.
While Na Jungwoo fumbled through his self-appointed mission to “repel intruders,” two Hunters quietly approached. One of them looked familiar—and he even remembered her name. Lee Sarang from the Gabyeolcho Guild. They’d been in the same strike team back at the Management Center.
“H-Hi there…!”
“Hello, Hunter Lee Sarang.”
“Oh wow, you remembered my name!”
Her nervous expression melted into a beaming smile.
“T-This is our Guildmaster. We just wanted to say hello real quick…!”
“Ahem, I’m Jo Byungseok. After that incident at the Management Center, my daughter hasn’t stopped talking about you, Hunter. We figured we’d at least come say hello—hope this isn’t a bother.”
Kim Sibaek exchanged greetings with him. Jo Byungseok—her father, and the Guildmaster of Gabyeolcho—was a kindly looking man in his middle age. He recalled hearing that Jo and his wife, Lee Hyeonjeong, had been among the first outsiders to join Tae Woon’s group after leaving Seoul.
Justyna leaned in and whispered to him.
“That guy’s a rare gem. Not like me, creeping over to recruit you. You can talk to him comfortably.”
Na Jungwoo finally managed to collect himself and began radiating killing intent in all directions, effectively keeping anyone else from getting close. Justyna, being a fellow refugee from Seoul, seemed to have a surprisingly warm rapport with Jo Byungseok.
The conversation drifted naturally to things like the monsters in Gae-seong Field or the Management Center, with relaxed, easy chatter filling the air. Kim Sibaek mostly stayed quiet, answering only when someone asked him a question—until Justyna suddenly turned to him.
“By the way—when did you first meet Tae Woon?”
Her tone was casual, but the intent behind it was obvious. She’d clearly taken an interest in his abilities and was trying to figure a few things out.
Kim Sibaek didn’t answer—he just looked at her. Justyna shrugged, raising her hands in surrender.
“Alright, my bad. It’s just… the memory of you healing my arm? Sobered me up faster than a bucket of ice water.”
“Woonie and I go way back.”
“Hmm, I see.”
Justyna nodded without pressing further. But this time, it was Lee Sarang whose eyes sparkled with curiosity.
“Do you mind if I ask—how far back?”
“Before the Cataclysm.”
“I knew it! From the way you two talk, I figured it had to be something like that!”
As for what she thought their relationship was, Kim Sibaek didn’t really want to dig into it. He brushed it off with a vague smile.
But oddly enough, it was Justyna and Jo Byungseok who looked surprised by his answer.
“Is that really true? Guildmaster Tae Woon never once asked about or tried to find that person back then…”
“Sorry? What do you mean by that?”
Kim Sibaek’s question prompted Jo Byungseok to elaborate.
“You experienced the Cataclysm too, Hunter. You know how it was—such a massive disaster, even families were torn apart and scattered.”
It had happened during a time when many were out watching the World Cup, joining the crowds to cheer. Survivors who made it through the monster attacks wandered in desperation, trying to reunite with family and loved ones. Even the orphanage kids had been worried sick about school friends and neighbors they hadn’t seen since that day.
“And yet, Guildmaster Tae Woon somehow managed to track down anyone who’d survived—anyone he knew, he brought them back. Like Gaeun’s friend from the Chinese restaurant.”
But that meant Tae Woon hadn’t done the same in this case. Fourteen-year-old Tae Woon hadn’t even asked about someone—hadn’t shown the slightest interest in their whereabouts.
A strange roughness brushed against Kim Sibaek’s chest. Something dry and unfamiliar. Slowly, he asked again.
“…Did Woonie ever ask the others at the orphanage if they knew someone by that name?”
Jo Byungseok replied easily.
“You’d have to ask the kids for the full story, but as far as I know, no. He never did.”
“Hyung… I thought I was losing my mind. I spent twenty-one years searching for you.”
When he’d first returned to Earth, those hollow words from deep inside Tae Woon had struck him cold. Etched into the bottom of his chest, they echoed again now.
He’d made an excuse about needing rest and headed upstairs. On the way, he ran into Seo Gaeun and brought it up. Her answer had been the same.
“During the Cataclysm, Tae Woon-oppa never asked about anyone. He never came to us looking for someone in particular.”
In fact, she’d asked something even stranger—whether he’d ever volunteered at their orphanage in Seoul. Kim Sibaek could only answer honestly: he hadn’t.
[“Death and Beauty” gently explains that human memory is fragile and subjective. After more than twenty years, it’s only natural that things would get confused.]
“Yeah… I guess that makes sense.”
As soon as he stepped back into his room, Biendeoé’s reassuring divine words stirred a strange sense of déjà vu.
Twenty years. Of course memories could blur with time. …How many times had he already told himself that? If someone asked him to describe in detail what he’d been doing back then, he probably wouldn’t have a clear answer either.
There was no simple conclusion to be had. Biendeoé nudged him to go wash up first, and he stepped into the bathroom. Afterward, standing by the open window, the chill of winter air helped clear his cluttered mind.
Then came the soft sound of the door opening.
Tae Woon had returned.
“Sibaek-hyung. You said you were tired earlier—how are you feeling now?”
It looked like Tae Woon had left the banquet early as soon as he realized Sibaek was gone. Seeing the concern on his face only made the knot in Sibaek’s chest tighter. It made him feel guilty for doubting him—even a little.
It was just a memory from twenty years ago. Something small. Something that probably didn’t matter.
He thought about letting it go. About burying it and never bringing it up. But no—carrying an unanswered question while looking him in the eye every day would’ve been worse.
So he thought carefully, weighing his words, before finally speaking.
“Hey, Woonie.”
“Yeah?”
“Earlier… I was talking to Guildmaster Yoo and Guildmaster Jo. They said that during the Cataclysm, you never once went looking for anyone outside the orphanage.”
