But the gift Hayan handed over was different. Kim Minsu had given his gift expecting something in return, but it was clear Hayan truly offered his to Nabin out of goodwill. Every time those sharply focused eyes landed on him, it felt like an unseasonable warm spring breeze brushed across his face.
“It seemed like something you’d need more than I would, Nabin.”
When Nabin asked why he was giving him the pendant, Hayan answered softly, speaking from the heart. Seeing the butterfly now hanging from Hayan’s wrist, it felt as if it had finally met its rightful owner.
Nabin, hearing Hayan’s answer, carefully caressed the pendant he’d been about to return. His rational mind whispered that he shouldn’t accept it, but the butterfly’s delicate beauty, caught in his gaze, tempted him to hold on to just a little bit of selfish desire.
The glowing butterfly looked as though it were truly fluttering its wings—its gentle motion seeming to whisper hello to him.
“This place is dangerous. It’s better if we head outside now.”
Shaking off the strange feeling lingering at his fingertips, Hayan addressed Nabin and Mr. Kim. Once a monster had appeared in this abandoned dungeon, there was a high chance more would follow.
As long as Hayan was there, there was little risk of anyone coming to harm, but dungeons themselves were dangerous to ordinary people. The very air was hazardous to the respiratory system.
Even now, Nabin’s complexion was alarmingly pale. Mr. Kim, though treated with a potion by Hayan, had sustained injuries that required rest, and his own color was no better.
At Hayan’s words, Nabin pushed himself up from his crouched position—but his legs, already drained of strength, couldn’t properly hold him. His knees buckled, and in an instant, the ground rushed up toward him.
“Careful.”
“Th-thank you…”
Instead of crashing onto the cold floor, Nabin was pulled into a solid yet warm embrace. Hayan had caught him by the arm and drawn him in against his chest.
The pallor in Nabin’s face flushed into a warm pink. Flustered, he tried to quickly pull his awkwardly pressed body away.
But his body didn’t move as his mind wished. His legs, trembling uncontrollably, couldn’t even support his thin frame.
When Nabin kept swaying and losing his balance, Hayan wrapped an arm firmly around his waist. Both froze at the contact—Hayan at the feel of Nabin’s slender waist through his jacket, and Nabin at the undeniable solidity of the arm even through fabric.
Nabin bit down lightly on his chapped lips. Even to himself, he seemed strange today. Normally, meeting a new Esper would have terrified him.
If his arm so much as brushed against an adult man bigger than himself, fear would seize him—his mouth going dry, the muscles in his chest locking up no matter how much he repeated It’s fine in his head.
But this Esper with hair white as snowflakes—when their eyes met, instead of fear, a ticklish sensation bloomed in his chest. It almost felt as if the butterfly on his wrist had flown straight into his heart. It was the first time in his life he’d felt anything like it.
When he gazed into those eyes, dark as though forged from shadow, he found himself staring blankly as if entranced. Then, snapping back to his senses, he’d panic and quickly drop his gaze back to the floor.
Their strange companionship continued all the way to the dungeon’s entrance. Beyond the crimson-tinged evening sky, it was time to part ways—like being buried and fading away into the horizon. Nabin would leave the dungeon and return to his grueling everyday life, while Hayan still had to fulfill the purpose that had brought him into this abandoned place.
An A-rank monster, a Wolf, had appeared here. Hayan not only had to train alongside other Espers, but also confirm whether the dungeon itself had reactivated.
Inside every dungeon lay a core where its magical energy gathered, typically a stone about the size of an adult man’s fist. An active dungeon’s core glowed with a deep, blood-red hue, while an abandoned one was drained of all color, left transparent.
Even an abandoned dungeon could sometimes produce monsters if residual magic clumped together, but in rare cases, the dungeon itself could restart its activity.
Today, Hayan was the leader of the Espers who had entered. As much as he wanted to spend more time with Nabin, he had to separate work from personal feelings.
Tearing his gaze away from Nabin’s retreating back as he left with the other miners, Hayan turned toward the depths of the dungeon.
If it was fate, they’d meet again someday. Had he known their story would only continue after many long years—on some winter’s day—he would never have let that back disappear from sight.
***
“Nabin, are you alright?”
“Yes. Uncle, how’s your arm…?”
Once they were out of the dungeon, Mr. Kim gave Nabin a proper once-over. Earlier, with the white-haired Esper beside them, he hadn’t been able to really check. The subtle tension between Nabin and the Esper had made him hesitant to intrude.
Just as Mr. Kim studied Nabin, Nabin’s eyes searched Mr. Kim. He couldn’t hide the mix of gratitude and guilt he felt toward the man who had fought the monster in his place while he’d been out of it.
His gaze landed on the bloodstained bandages, and his vision wavered as if a mist had clouded over. The thought that Mr. Kim had nearly died because of him made his chest feel suffocating and tight.
“I’m sorry… because of me…”
The sorrow and guilt welling in Nabin’s eyes finally brimmed over, spilling down his cheeks. His hesitant hands, unable to touch the man’s injury, dug at the loose skin on his thumb until it bled.
Knowing it was a nervous habit Nabin fell into when anxious, Mr. Kim’s rough hand reached out and took his. He gave it another firm squeeze, steadying the younger man drowning in guilt.
“You brat! How the hell is this your fault? A monster showing up in an abandoned dungeon is no different from a lightning strike out of a clear sky.”
Mr. Kim’s scolding tone was deliberate—he knew if he didn’t say it, Nabin would go on feeling unbearably guilty. At this rate, he wouldn’t even be able to meet his eyes for a while, and would probably refuse any rice balls he offered, mumbling apologies.
Feeling the warmth traveling through their joined hands, Nabin bit his lip. Unlike his father, whose warmth had slowly faded away, Mr. Kim was still alive—breathing the same air in the same world as him.
The reason Nabin had been able to endure his harsh life was largely thanks to Mr. Kim. To a boy stripped bare and cast into the world by the greed of adults, Mr. Kim had draped a warm blanket over his shoulders.
Nabin felt that if life could remain like this—if even one person around him truly cared for him, and if there were people like the Esper he’d met today who offered kindness without expecting payment—then maybe he could keep going.
But the shadow hanging over his life was swelling, ready to drag him deeper into despair.
“Kim Nabin.”
Though still shaken mentally, he had escaped the monster-filled dungeon without injury. Yet he hadn’t managed to collect the Mana Stones he’d aimed for, so he was heading home with an even smaller wage than usual.
To make matters worse, a blizzard had hit Seoul the day before. Snow, trampled and shoved aside by countless feet, had clumped together and frozen solid—as if getting back at the world for its mistreatment.
The road home was steep, and even on a normal day, after work, Nabin had to stop and brace his knees, panting for breath on the way up.
Today, the grueling mining work and the nightmare of encountering a monster had sapped both his body and mind. Every step onto the icy pavement threatened to send him sprawling to the ground.
And even when he reached home, he couldn’t simply collapse onto the freezing floor to rest. The money he hadn’t earned from mining today would have to be made up by some other job.
Not even for a few hours could he rest in peace. His debt had grown so large it threatened to swallow him whole, and if he was even a day late on the interest, there was no telling what Kim Minsu might do.
Dragging his feet as if they were weighed down with lead, he finally reached near his home. He planned to change clothes before going back out—looking presentable was better if he wanted to pick up short-term work.
In the run-down neighborhood, foot traffic was sparse. The pale reddish glow of the streetlamps fell in scattered patches along the alley, and the only sound was the dull echo of his own footsteps.
Then, like an unwelcome guest barging in, a coarse voice suddenly broke the quiet, making Nabin’s body freeze.
“Ah… hello…”
Walking toward him, as if he’d been waiting, was Kim Minsu. The moment their eyes met, Nabin felt as though invisible hands were closing around his throat.
It was nothing like what he’d felt when locking eyes with Hayan. This sensation was a sharp, cold pain—like multiple blades slicing into his chest.
Even the labored breaths that had been forcing their way out now seemed trapped, swallowed before they could escape.
As Nabin froze in place, Kim Minsu strode up and suddenly lowered his head toward him. The crescent curve of his eyes contrasted with the barren, humorless gaze that swept coldly over Nabin’s appearance.
