The S-Classes That I Raised

Chapter 494: So Hand It Over, Then (1)

The main hall was very spacious, and round four–seater tables were spaced far apart. The more bodies you pack together, the easier a fight breaks out, and there were pairs who would growl even with a brush of sleeves. So each table had name tags arranged into combinations that were relatively peaceful. You didn’t have to keep to your assigned seat, strictly speaking, but once a “this is your spot” sign was placed, people tended to linger near it without thinking.

“Chief Song is a given, but why stick me next to Seong Hyunjae too.”

Moon Hyunah grumbled. Though it was a four–top, only three name cards were placed: Seong Hyunjae, Song Taewon, and Moon Hyunah. Moon Hyunah pulled out a chair for Seong Hyunjae and bowed with mock courtesy.

“Please sit, Your Highness.”

“How very kind. Will the Breaker Guildmaster be my prince for today, then.”

“Trend these days is princess does it all herself, click–click–click. Now then, for our hard–working second princess as well.”

Even as she drew out a chair, Moon Hyunah’s line left Song Taewon at a loss for any proper reply; he hesitated. Even after years of interaction with the two, keeping up with their odd banter was never easy. Especially since, unlike with Seong Hyunjae, cleanly ignoring Moon Hyunah was difficult, which made her all the more tricky.

“…Thank you, but standing gives me a better view of the hall.”

“See? All because of the first. First runs wild, so second stiffens up even more.”

“How cruel. I cherish and love our second princess so very much.”

“You talk pretty. Chief Song, another drink?”

“No.”

“Why not have one more. Honestly, you need to get mildly tipsy now and then. Otherwise you never let anything out from inside.”

Too much drinking is bad, sure, but in a life, you’ve got to slip the latch once in a while— otherwise what’s fine curdles into a stubborn poison, she said, and filled his glass to the brim with wine.

“…Not today.”

“I’ll brew something truly potent and set a proper table one of these days.”

“And where’s our youngest princess.”

Tapping his nameplate with a fingertip, Seong Hyunjae spoke. Moon Hyunah lifted her own glass, wet her lips just a touch, and answered low.

“Sesung Guildmaster shouldn’t be interested. No matter how adorable our youngest princess is. Eyes off.”

“Isn’t it natural for the eldest to love the youngest.”

“…Don’t kill the mood. Love, my ass. If Director Han were my sibling, I’d find him cute— no, if he were my real brother, I’d smack his back once a day.”

Shuddering, Moon Hyunah pinched her brow, then turned her head to scan the hall.

“Our Yerim’s popular.”

As she said, many Hunters showed interest in Park Yerim. The video of a newly awakened young Hunter lightly flooring a more experienced S–rank had long gone global. On top of that, Park Yerim was the first S–rank Hunter belonging to a personal guild, not some organization with an agenda. So a few sidled up to float slyly better terms.

“Ah, I don’t really speak English~.”

Park Yerim batted them all away.

“We’ll of course provide translation items.”

“Items don’t translate text. Change your country’s language into Korean first, then contact me. I can only write Hangul.”

She shook her head, declaring she had no plans to learn English or French. Yerim hopped into the air and slipped away, and a slew of gazes trailed after her. Some were purely fond— she was cute. While most high–rank Hunters, especially S–ranks, skewed young in their twenties, teens were rare. Among S–ranks, Park Yerim was the youngest.

“Is the blacksmith not attending?”

“He’s high–rank as a Hunter, but not combat–type. Too risky to send him here.”

“The Breeding Facility Director’s stats are low too.”

A few were looking for Yu Myungwoo. Since he’d produced S–rank weapons, countless hunters had reached out, but he barely accepted overseas commissions. Even for domestic Hunters, he tossed out gear at random when the mood struck, so those who wanted to cultivate ties swarmed.

Not that there were no gripes about his attitude, but everywhere, the ones who wanted him were the ones in need. So even if they were snubbed, people shrugged it off with, that’s how artisans are.

But today’s host was the Director of the Monster Mounts Breeding Facility, so naturally the most people were waiting for Han Yujin’s entrance. Above all, rumor among Hunters had it there was a way to raise high–rank Monster Mounts without a specific skill. Thanks to that, prices for monster cubs— already rising— had jumped by half again. Teams specializing in capturing high–rank newborn monsters had even sprung up recently.

“Isn’t it about time he came out.”

“He might not. His stats are F–rank.”

A few Hunters murmured that maybe he’d just send a video or live broadcast. Even with many S–ranks nearby, for an F–rank to step out before a hall of unfamiliar high–ranks wasn’t easy. With frequent exposure you got used to upper–ranks and the fear faded; but facing strangers of that level, you shrank again. Just because your own big dog is cute rather than scary, a strange big dog’s growl isn’t cute. So better to not appear than show a cowed look.

With such talk, a hint of complaint began to creep in. If they hadn’t already been checked at the pier, someone would’ve shouted they were being made to wait too long.

As the mood grew more unsettled— screee. The door opened. It was the door atop the twin–curving grand staircase at the inner center of the hall. A perfect place to draw every eye. The ornate doors swung wide, and someone stepped out.

Srrr– a long veil whispered, trailing along the floor. A black veil three or four meters long, decorated with white roses; the face beneath was hidden behind a white mask. Black formalwear with a white frilled necktie. A red flower tucked in the breast pocket, and a hand in white gloves held trailing fern fronds.

Most glanced with a, huh, unusual outfit. But here and there, a few reactions were clearly different.

“Hiding the face is a good call.”

“What’s with the veil.”

Hunters who didn’t know the outfit muttered. Unexpected, sure, but whatever— that was the general reaction. Hunters with fixed concepts were common, and even if you wanted to dress plain, gear sometimes screamed anyway.

“Hyung–nim looked really embarrassed.”

Moon Hyunah whispered. When she added that it weirdly suited him, Song Taewon nodded that it sort of did, but Seong Hyunjae, face set, said nothing.

Chatterbox.

It didn’t take much to guess why Han Yujin came dressed as Chatterbox— to pick out those who recognized it. If someone in that getup showed up out of nowhere, those who knew would, unconsciously, react differently from the crowd.

He knew it, and still didn’t like it.

“…Not in my eyes, at all.”

“For once you’re stingy with praise. Or is your taste really hot–pink yarn?”

It’d be a riot if that got out— plenty of people would show up in matching hot pink— Moon Hyunah laughed, but unlike usual, Seong Hyunjae didn’t answer. And his displeasure—

“Hello, everyone.”

—peaked when the mask came off and Han Yujin revealed his face. From the way his fingers pinched the edge of the white mask and peeled it off, to the bow of his torso— each motion held an uncharacteristic elegance. Even revealed from behind the white, still–pale mask, his face wore a smile.

“First, thank you for coming all this way.”

He strolled slowly toward the balustrade and, sliding a finger under the frilled tie, tugged. The flower–big tie dropped with a soft thud at his feet, and the buttons at the shirt collar came undone, one by one. Tap, tap. Arriving precisely at the rail in time, he lifted a gloved hand and stroked up the back of his neck.

He pressed lightly below the ear, then the hand slid down. And— srrrk— a red pattern began to surface. Long and clear up to the nape, the mark nailed every gaze in place.

The high–rank Hunters— especially the S–ranks— forgot to breathe for a beat as they stared. They all tasted a chilling sensation. It was similar to facing a powerful monster, yet different. Their whole bodies tensed and gooseflesh rose— but unlike a monster, it wasn’t something they could confront.

It was like a mouse on a treadmill, ignorant of the outside world, suddenly meeting the gaze of something vast looking down.

And Seong Hyunjae’s displeasure—

“…”

—hit the limit. It wasn’t just the aura the sigil exuded that grated, as it did for the others. That annoyed him, yes— but he alone knew what that red sigil meant.

It wasn’t knowledge in his memories. Yet somehow, he understood. The mark upon Han Yujin—

Magician’s Sacrifice.

The moment he knew it, heat roiled in his gut. Disgust without a memory mixed with the disgust of now, and his mouth twisted so hard he lifted a hand to cover it. His hammering heart felt alien, like someone else’s.

“…What is that.”

Unable to take her eyes off Han Yujin, Moon Hyunah muttered, her brows deeply drawn. Song Taewon, too, was so fixed on Han Yujin he failed to notice Seong Hyunjae’s state. The hand resting on the table had curled into a fist without his noticing; his lips pressed into a line, and the faint click of clenched teeth leaked out.

Both had been told in advance. Even so, it was hard to stay calm.

In the weighted air, Seong Hyunjae exhaled thinly. Hwang Rim’s words flashed through his mind. A crooked smile touched his lips.

‘I was also quite…’

Complacent. Even if the memory wasn’t there, the existence called Seong Hyunjae had, in a sense, been plundered all along. Of everything.

No memories. Skills and titles overlapped, stolen, so he could not hold multiples. The chains coiled around him were the pillager’s doing.

And now, too. His present life and death had been lost once, then returned.

The warped grin softened into a gentle smile. With a gaze mild enough to be called tender, Seong Hyunjae looked up at Han Yujin.

‘Effect’s good.’

Even if it was mortifying and embarrassing as hell. Chatterbox, your formalwear is fine. The frilled tie— burdensome, but it’s formalwear. The mask… fine, I’ll swallow that. But a veil? A veil with roses? Never imagined I’d place a rose veil on my own head, something I’d never wear in my life. Damn Chatterbox, what is that taste?

At first, I wasn’t going to dress as Chatterbox myself. I planned to use a stand–in or a puppet. My height and build aren’t stick–thin even with the corset cinched, after all. But once Chatterbox left a mark on me, having me in the costume became the most effective choice.

‘I should filter out almost everyone.’

Smiling, I looked down over the people beyond the balustrade. Cameras were set in every direction across the hall. With that footage analyzed, we could easily pick out those who’d made contact with Chatterbox.

Those who reacted to the costume alone would be ones he’d met in person. Those who reacted to the sigil would be the ones who’d received an invitation and signed a contract. Even from up here, a few reactions stood out from the crowd.

‘…Maybe I overdid it, strengthening the Chatterbox power in the mark.’

I suppressed my mana around the sigil as much as possible and, with Mr. Noah’s help, made the trace of Chatterbox feel even stronger. Mr. Noah had backed away with a this is a bit much face, and the other Hunters’ reactions were beyond expectations.

At this rate, some might draw weapons at me— so I hurriedly raised my mana. As I overlaid my energy and paled the sigil, the taut air loosened at once. Still, looking down at Hunters keeping a wary eye— hrrk, corset tight— I exhaled and moved along the rail.

“It seems I startled you a little. Of course, for high–rank Awakened, this much is nothing.”

Chatterbox isn’t the only one out there. The outside is crawling with transcendent types of every sort. Of the ones I’ve met, Chatterbox was the most unpleasant— this teasing jab at your nerves.

Before I set foot on the stairs, I took off the veil. At the same time Blue Willow Leaves fluttered, and Yuhyun hopped lightly over the rail to land behind me. He caught the spilling veil, and under cover of the cloth, his hand slipped deftly to my back and sliced the corset. In the same instant, the loosened corset vanished without a trace. Iryn had come in and swallowed it.

That’s better. Now then— among these faces, who holds an invitation?