The S-Classes That I Raised

Chapter 467: Even Good People (3)

“Shouldn’t we tell the kids now?”

Moon Hyunah asked as she pressed the elevator button.

“Or Chief Song, at least. Even if Hyungnim gets rejected cleanly, we still need to check her rank.”

Underreporting a Hunter’s rank wasn’t a big issue. The reverse—pretending to be higher—was taboo. If you entered a dungeon you couldn’t handle, you endangered not only yourself but your team.

But this case was different. The visit was to meet a Stat–F who’d already been targeted multiple times. Even if there were circumstances, at minimum Chief Song or an S–rank Hunter with a protection contract with the Monster Mounts Breeding Facility should have been told.

“Too soon yet.”

The doors slid shut and the elevator shot up toward the top floor.

“True—if no one else, the young master would draw a blade first and ask later. And Hyungnim might fail. He could just talk shop and come back.”

Snickering, Moon Hyunah leaned obliquely against the elevator wall. Then her smile vanished. She listened to the soft chime and spoke low.

“So it really was Han Yuhyun who was wrong—the part about going back to the past.”

“If it weren’t that big a reason, he’s not the type to give up the present—or the people around him—so easily.”

“And besides that. Sometimes he felt… desperate. Less so now. Like—how do I put it—like a parent who’s lost a child.”

Han Yujin had been awakened for barely half a year, yet he knew Hunters very well. And at the same time, he worried excessively over S–rank Hunter Han Yuhyun. Even though he’d cared for his brother since young, even though his brother was far stronger than he was. And it wasn’t as if he didn’t understand S–rank abilities.

The elevator doors opened. They headed straight for the emergency stairs. With no guests or staff around, it was quiet.

“He said five years later. Even if it’s got nothing to do with me now, I’m curious—but how do I ask.”

Faintly narrowing her brows, Moon Hyunah opened the emergency exit with a key she’d received in advance. A dim stairwell appeared.

“Hyungnim still has some shaky parts.”

They vaulted the stairs in a breath. Their footsteps were barely audible. The locked door to the roof opened. The sun had long set; the sky was inky black.

“The wound from losing something truly important doesn’t heal easily.”

Even if you’ve gone back. As long as memory—experience—remains, things can’t help but be different than before.

“Especially in Hyungnim’s case, at a pinch he’d toss his life away. He won’t lose twice. He could hardly endure it.”

Wearing a bitter look, Moon Hyunah crossed to the edge of the roof. From here you could look down at an angle onto the terrace garden Han Yujin had headed toward. The height gap was considerable, so even an S–rank Hunter couldn’t catch conversation, but reading his lips and expressions wasn’t hard.

The distance from lounge to terrace was fairly long, and he’d walked slowly, so only now did Han Yujin step into the garden. His tense face was clear to them both. He glanced around a little, then stopped by the terrace railing.

“If he remembers her exact height, he must’ve liked her a lot.”

“He looks scared, too.”

“Of course. A breakup is better. At least the one you like stays the same. Oh, he’s talking—still just the broadcast talk.”

She bent slightly to peer down—when her body suddenly twisted hard and—

Thwack!

Her upraised hand caught something. Blood beaded faintly where her grip bit down. An arrow.

“What is it.”

Her eyes sharpened. The shot had come from across the way. She swept the line of buildings beyond the eight–lane road with a cold gaze.

“Is sniping trending now? You won’t need me, right? Or should I alert the folks below.”

Her toes touched the very lip of the roof. At the same time, the Searcher’s Chains unfurled—unlike usual, not crackling with current, but a pale silvery length lashing outward. Moon Hyunah sprang into the air and—tap—stepped on the chain, vaulting higher. She dropped onto the opposite roof in an instant.

As if in reply, a faint killing intent pricked the air. Without hesitation, she ran toward it. Onto the building behind—still clearing a gap of over ten meters in a single bound—drawing a long spear—then stopping dead.

Someone stood under the long shadow of the neighboring building. Bow in hand, making no effort to hide the crime. Behind the lenses, her eyes curved with a smile.

“…What.”

Moon Hyunah’s face screwed up.

“Why are you here.”

“Hello, Breaker Guildmaster.”

Evelyn Miller greeted her blithely. Moon Hyunah hurled the arrow in her hand. Thunk! It grazed the tip of Evelyn’s shoe and bit into the floor. The fletching quivered. A faint smell of blood.

“What kind of prank is this. Don’t tell me you’re turning yourself in as the Association bomber.”

“Did I look like a fan of Chief Song Taewon?”

Still no eye for people, huh—at the soft reply, Moon Hyunah’s face grew harsher.

“You know I’m not fond of the smell of metal and powder.”

“Don’t care.”

She answered coolly.

“Like you said, I’ve got no eye for people. I don’t even know what’s real and what’s fake.”

“Still sulking?”

“No. We’re just incompatible. Our temperaments. I like honest kids.”

Her foot slid back a half–step.

“I like you.”

“Cut the crap.”

“How could I not like you, Moon Hyunah. And that’s why.”

“So you fired a shot? Got it. I’m leaving.”

There was no point drawing out the talk; she wouldn’t get a reason. Moon Hyunah turned to go without regret. But Evelyn’s voice caught at her ankles.

“If you jump, I’ll drop you.”

White fingers hooked the bowstring. No arrow. But Moon Hyunah knew exactly how fast flesh would fly from those fingertips. Leveraging Inventory, an arrow could be in a Hunter’s hand in an instant. Evelyn was faster still: the draw and the shot were almost one. The arrow wasn’t nocked and drawn; it was nocked as she drew and loosed as one.

Even for an S–rank Hunter, the speed was hard to catch, and the power of skill–steeped arrows was no joke. Without a flight skill, dodging in midair would be tough for Moon Hyunah.

“Give me a reason.”

She didn’t bother to hide her irritation. Evelyn lifted a shoulder slightly.

“I was simply asked to hold you up for a bit.”

“Asked—by who—don’t tell me Seong Hyunjae?”

“Who else would it be.”

“…What’s that man plotting.”

Moon Hyunah raked a rough hand through her hair. Even Evelyn’s eyes, for once, agreed with her.

“I’m curious, too. He opened a candy box, skimmed it with his eyes, then shut it and just shook it. Usually he’d sample one of each flavor and toss the rest aside.”

Even if there were many kinds, if they felt similar, he’d drop it halfway.

“Maybe he wants the candy to jump out on its own.”

“…Whatever. I’d rather just walk than squat here.”

With a feral baring of teeth, Moon Hyunah vaulted the roof rail. Rather than jump to the next building, she went straight down—dropping—and vanished among the buildings.

I hadn’t held out much hope. In fact, because I thought the odds were high, like this—like this. I swallowed a small breath. I switched Fear Resistance back on. The shaking in my chest calmed, but the tangle of emotions stayed.

Right. It could turn out this way. It happens.

Thinking about it, the people—at least—had all turned out okay so far. The ones I knew from before, it was all good. With Yuhyun, of course, things got better. Those I’d been with in the dungeon—we weren’t as tight as before, but we’d reconnected well. I’d been able to repay them, too. Even with bad ties like Seok Gimyeong and Kim Seonghan, and the rest at Haeyeon, this time we were doing well. Those who’d harmed or threatened me had either already soured before regression or were total strangers.

So sometimes it goes this way. If things can change for the better, they can also change for the worse.

‘…From the start, it was one–sided on my part.’

And she’s still a good person. I don’t know what’s better—that her “broadcast persona” was fake, or that it was all true.

“…I just wanted to say it.”

My gaze dropped against my will. My gut ached. I wanted to pull a cigarette still left in my Inventory and light up. Should’ve had more to drink.

No—this isn’t the time. Get it together. The conclusion’s out.

The same message as with Park Hayul had appeared. Then, like Park Hayul, Chloe likely received help from that “older sister.” I didn’t know who she was yet, but for now, she seemed separate from the cult—the Filial Duty Addicts.

‘They abducted me to China, but did nothing beyond that.’

Maybe they’d struck a deal with the Chinese military. So—even though I’d been kidnapped, it was still early to call them a certain enemy. If it wasn’t Chatterbox’s faction, there was room to negotiate. Not many people want the world to end.

“Director Han Yujin.”

“…Yes.”

“Since you spoke honestly, I’ll answer honestly, too.”

My fists clenched reflexively. What would it be. Persuasion? Or—

“I don’t like people like you.”

“…Eh?”

Startled, I lifted my head that had been bowed. On my shoulder, Hangyeol’s wings rustled. Uh, I’ve heard “I don’t like you” before, but—

“It’s not right to judge someone you’ve barely met, but I couldn’t see you in a good light.”

“I–is that so?”

Did I do something wrong? Publicly, I… got kidnapped a bit… Because I’m weak? But she’s not the type to dislike someone for that.

“Demanding, over mount rights, nothing more than a pet–type monster—that doesn’t fit my values.”

Chloe’s tone cooled a shade. That… well…

“I don’t criticize luxury unconditionally. But treating a unique force—not a mere commodity—lightly for personal use—I feel aversion to that.”

…Now I see why Ms. Hyunah said she was a bit like Chief Song. Chief Song had also been wary of me. For different reasons, but still.

“It wasn’t about levity—I needed it.”

“Does the Gold Hamster have some special ability?”

“…No.”

It really was a pet. I’d used it to draw in Do Hamin, but even if I said so, Chloe’s aversion wouldn’t change. I had taken it lightly. And I couldn’t divulge Do Hamin’s ability; any excuse would sound like, “I wanted to curry favor with someone I know.”

“I have nothing to say on that point.”

Cradling the fairy dragon who was thwacking her tail in displeasure, I soothed her. Still—at least it wasn’t some other reason. Just as I’d liked Chloe from watching her broadcast, Chloe could dislike me from seeing only a part of what I did…

“Thank you for being straightforward.”

Well—dumped, cleanly. So cleanly I could hardly believe she was tied to Park Hayul’s side. What if, in truth, there are a dozen people who can give growth buffs? The Unfilial Children had made such a fuss about how vanishingly rare “Nurturers” are that I thought there were only two of these abilities.

Still, hiding her rank was a fact. To go that far… Wait.

“Then—why did you come here?”

If she disliked me before we met, it doesn’t add up.

“You had no reason to accept the Gold Hamster capture request…”

Helping to catch a hamster, then, despite not being a guild member, faking rank to come all the way to Korea—still strange. If she had other business, she could have come separately. Unless you were meeting me—a Stat–F—or other vulnerable lower–rank Awakened or non–awakened, hiding rank wasn’t much of an issue. It’s not like Japan, with prize–fight duels.

So why come here.

Just then the glass door opened. A familiar face stepped in. Chloe shifted aside, and Seong Hyunjae walked up to me.

“…What is this.”

The fairy dragon in my arms flattened her ears, wary.

“Shall I offer comfort first?”

“Get to the point.”

I couldn’t make sense of this.

“Were you two acquainted? From before?”

“No. But Hunter Chloe came not to see you—she came to see me.”

“…You?”

“If it concerns Director Han Yujin, it’s easier to approach the Sesung Guildmaster.”

Chloe answered. So—so that’s why. But, what. When did you meet, and what did you discuss. I wanted to back away, but there was a rail. If need be, I’d jump. I looked between the two.