“If it’s the female and male flowers from different magical beasts, it’s not a problem. But if the liquor was brewed using both the female and male flowers from the same beast…”
“And if it was?”
“Well, uh… you know how those flowers are separated for pollination, right? And pollination basically means reproduction. These beasts aren’t much different…”
His explanation was vague and drawn-out, clearly uncomfortable. But somehow, Tae Woon managed to grasp the meaning and nodded seriously.
“So whoever drank it is supposed to… reproduce. That explains why I’ve been feeling oddly flushed since earlier.”
“It’s not an aphrodisiac. If it had any effects like that, I would’ve warned you.”
“Then what’s going on?”
“It’s just… if the two people who drank it get separated, any underlying mental disorders they have tend to worsen. I’m fine since I don’t really have any issues like that.”
Tae Woon’s eyes lit up as he asked, almost giddy, “For life?”
“Usually it lasts about a month. But you’re an Awakener with thick mana, so… two weeks max?”
His eyes sparkled even more. Then he let out a soft sigh and murmured with dramatic sincerity.
“Hyung, I’ve got to confess—I’m basically a walking psych ward. OCD, insomnia, impulse control issues, and a laundry list of others. So there’s no helping it. To get better, I have to sleep in the same bed as you every night for the next two weeks.”
“It’s not that serious. Just being under the same roof is enough.”
“Still, for at least two weeks, you won’t be able to move into the dorms. Right?”
“…Yeah, well.”
Kim Sibaek subtly avoided Tae Woon’s glittering gaze. It wasn’t poison or demonic energy, just a minor side effect—nothing he could purify with his Divine Power, though maybe a priest of another god could’ve managed.
“But really, nothing’s changed. We already live together, go to work together, and spend most of our time together.”
That was true. But hadn’t something shifted between them since the Eid Portal incident? It was enough to make Kim Sibaek seriously consider getting a separate place. As his expression turned uncertain, Tae Woon gave a sheepish smile.
“I brought the liquor without knowing what it would do, so I’ll behave like a calm little Woonie for the next two weeks.”
Whether that was believable was up for debate—but what choice did he have? He could at least pretend to trust him.
“If I behave, then it’s okay for us to go on quests together… and dates, right?”
“For now, I’ll adjust to your schedule. Just don’t skip work.”
“When have I ever done something you told me not to? Of course I’ll only follow you around on weekends or after work.”
Even in the middle of this conversation, Tae Woon’s head tilt was annoyingly adorable. Without thinking, Kim Sibaek gently patted his cheek. He flinched and tried to pull his hand back, but Tae Woon leaned in and nuzzled into his palm. The soft, familiar warmth loosened something inside him.
I just need to stay grounded and not get swept up in this…
A resolution he wasn’t all that confident in.
Tae Woon’s shameless and boldly confident words led to something no one had expected: the 7777 Guild adopted a four-day workweek. As Guildmaster, Tae Woon now had three days off every week.
“A four-day workweek? Are you out of your mind?!”
“I need those days to go on dates with Sibaek-hyung.”
Yang Eunho clutched the back of his neck. The sudden order to implement this without any preparation drove him to the brink of submitting his long-cherished resignation. But just before the breaking point, Tae Woon handed over five S-rank manastones from magical beasts. That was enough to barely settle things.
And so, Tae Woon smoothed over all resistance with pure money. “The One Whose Name Must Not Be Spoken,” the one who made the four-day workweek happen, was soon revered as a living legend on the company’s internal message board.
***
Kim Sibaek’s abilities were too unique to assign him to just one raid team. Instead, he was designated as a Strike Team member to be deployed as needed. His first mission as a guild member was to assist the Second Strike Team, led by Captain Seo Gaeun.
“Four o’clock! Block it!”
“Throw the blast item!”
The magical beasts resembled a mix between elephants and rhinos. They were roughly rhino-sized, which earned them the nickname long-horned rhinos. As the tanks held the line, the blast-type magitech device detonated. The long-horned rhinos staggered in brief confusion, and the DPS team immediately pounced, launching a flurry of attacks. The battlefield, populated mostly by B-rank beasts, was soon filled with the roar of combat.
“Grooaar!”
One particularly massive long-horned rhino charged forward, slamming down its blood-streaked tusks. The tank failed to absorb the full weight of the blow and staggered, gritting their teeth against the pain.
The beast took advantage of the opening. It lifted one heavy foot to trample the tank, then swung its long snout wide like a whip. Fwoooosh! The air split with a thunderous sound.
It wasn’t just aiming for the tanks. A Hunter attacking from the rhino’s blind spot barely leapt out of the way in time, but lost balance on landing.
Another enraged long-horned rhino spotted the opportunity—and charged.
“Ugh!”
There wasn’t even a split second to recover balance, let alone launch a counterattack. The Hunter could only scream and reflexively shield their face to protect vital spots.
But instead of getting crushed, they felt their body lifted—swept upward as if snatched from behind.
…What?
Before they could even register what was happening, an arm wrapped around their waist and launched them into the air. With practiced ease, Kim Sibaek landed lightly on the long-horned rhino’s snout. In a single fluid motion, he leapt again—reaching the beast’s head in one bound—and drove a softly glowing blade straight into its crown.
Thunk!
It was an impossibly gentle sound for something that had pierced through thick muscle and skull. The weapon, blessed by the God of Death, delivered a fatal wound that stole the monster’s life in an instant.
Sibaek lowered the Hunter gently to the ground, offered a faint smile, then turned and walked calmly back into the chaos of the battlefield. It wasn’t until that moment that the stunned Hunter realized they hadn’t even managed to say thank you.
Time passed, and the last of the long-horned rhinos crashed to the earth with a resounding thud. The Second Strike Team let out strained cheers and relieved cries as they slumped where they stood.
“Alright! Let’s get moving—dismantle what you can and start setting up camp before sunset!”
Seo Gaeun clapped her hands sharply, breaking through the fatigue and rallying the team. Porters immediately got to work disassembling the beasts and loading the parts into refrigerated trucks, while Hunters cleared the surroundings. Kim Sibaek, too, went around tending to the injured.
From a distance, Tae Woon—who had followed them all the way here to watch—hurried over to help. Sibaek tensed instinctively at his approach, but Tae Woon was, for now, diligently upholding his two-week promise to “behave.”
Since the guy was currently bottling it all up, Sibaek decided not to think about how that might explode later. That was a problem for future Sibaek to deal with.
“Th-thank you…”
Even as their wounds visibly healed, the injured Hunters looked dazed, blinking as if it hadn’t sunk in yet. Some repeatedly touched the spots where they’d been hurt, trying to believe what they were seeing.
“So… should I start praying to the crow now?”
One dazed Hunter clasped their hands and cast a dreamy look toward Biendeoé.
“If you already follow a religion, feel free to stick with it,” Kim Sibaek replied smoothly. “As for the crow… um. Please love it generously.”
In Mak Slechth, it was the gods who shaped humanity—but it was humans who elevated the divine by spreading their name. The more praise, the more power. So while the direction of belief might differ, increasing the number of those who adored the god did no harm.
And so, the attention-hungry baby crow flitted around them, fluttering its little wings for attention.
“Wow, it’s just a chick, but look at it go.”
“Think it likes shiny stuff too?”
Public opinion toward Biendeoé shifted rapidly—from “ugly, vicious crow” to “still ugly, but kind of charming if you look long enough.” Definitely a side effect of that healing magic casting rose-colored lenses over everyone.
As Kim Sibaek finished healing the last of the wounded, Seo Gaeun approached.
“Great work, Mentor. And Guildmaster… well, I’m not sure what you were doing, but good job to you too.”
“Hmph.”
“You too, Hunter Seo Gaeun.”
Sibaek accepted the canteen she handed him, and a flicker of emotion crossed his face. It was always surreal—the contrast between the commanding figure she was now and the small, clumsy child he remembered. It made him proud, in a way.
Pi Minhyung had been a chunky baby even back then, but Seo Gaeun? She’d been average-sized, a normal kid who arrived at the orphanage holding her grandmother’s hand. She hit a growth spurt around puberty, and now she’d grown into a striking adult—taller than Sibaek himself.
Glancing around first, Seo Gaeun leaned in and lowered her voice.
“Mentor… you weren’t actually in the NIS, were you?”
