E-Rank Seong Ye-han
They say an after-work beer is the solace and joy of countless office workers. Seong Ye-han was no exception.
With a sharp chiik, the cool beer can's tab pops open. And some shrimp-flavored crackers boasting over half a century of history. Back before the Gate incident, beer and snacks like these apparently cost just a few thousand won. Unimaginable prices nowadays.
Around the time he turned twenty, booze to him was just a nasty, bitter, expensive liquid that left his head pounding afterward. Drinking sessions were boring as hell, and filling his glass with that clear or golden fluid was revolting—it never brought any real pleasure.
But now it felt entirely different. Someone once said humans change with their environment, huh.
Like that, washing away the day's fatigue.
Kkaetok—his familiar smartphone screen lights up.
Even though holographic tabs embedded with magic stone crystals had been out for ages, he still clung to his old-school smartphone. Not out of some tech purist loyalty, just plain old money issues.
He remembered being pretty shocked when this junior reached out first, right after academy graduation, while he was still stuck at E-rank. His mentality had been shaky back then, and for a split second, seeing her message sparked some trashy thoughts...
Of course, she shot down even the simple "wanna grab a bite?" with ruthless precision, so he never even got the chance to try anything.
After that, they just kept chatting every evening, and those thoughts faded naturally. When he finally asked why, she said no faces till she hit A-rank. Shocking as hell.
It seemed weird no matter how he looked at it. But it also felt dead serious.
Seong Ye-han couldn't figure out what seeing his face had to do with her rank-ups, but if an E-rank like him helped her path in any way, wasn't that fine?
Even in mere text snippets, her bright energy shone through. They bantered a bit more, and he wrapped it up before it dragged on—pitying her for suffering muscle aches from solo training on Christmas Eve, same as him, a fellow loner. What more could he want?
Taking up her bright future junior's downtime felt like a sin, in a way.
At the end of the day, a beer, a bag of snacks, and this little connection. Alongside his special ability, it was the light illuminating Seong Ye-han's current life.
With that good mood, heading home.
By now, the sun had fully set, darkness blanketing everything. A back alley lit only by dim streetlamps and thick shadows.
Passing the small orphanage shuttered a few months back.
“Gueeeh—”
A sloshing splatter, followed by a heavy thud.
“Shiiibal...”
Something mumbling curses in a slurred tongue.
At the orphanage's front gate. By the rusty utility pole next to the locked iron door, some figure slumped.
“Stinks...”
Hat jammed low, hair matted tight. Bulky sunglasses with one bent temple. Giant mask crumpled off to the side. Empty bottles scattered everywhere—enough to kill a normal person. Cheap soju to fancy stuff he couldn't even recognize. Probably foreign liquor.
And finally, face buried in her own vomit. A grotesque pose like some performance art, nonstop cursing. Definitely human, at least.
Even from a distance, the alcohol stench hit like a visible fog.
The clothes' shape and curves peeking through thick winter layers screamed woman.
How much did she chug?
At that point, it wasn't her drinking the booze—the booze had swallowed her whole. Hard to even find that much liquor these days.
Whatever. Everyone needs booze's power sometimes, price be damned.
Seong Ye-han detached his attention from the drunken mess and kept walking casually.
He'd have passed without issue... but sadly, she crushed that hope.
“Hey...”
Feeling a bad vibe, he quickened his pace.
“Hey!!!!! You fucking bitch!!!”
“What the—?”
Her shout boomed. Loud enough to snag every passerby's eyes in seconds. Thunderous, even. Back in the old days, she'd have been a general, man or not.
“You ignoring me toooo?! Shiiibaaal!”
Suddenly clutching his pant leg.
Seong Ye-han hadn't even seen her move. Fucked...
Even a random crazy chick's gaze burned under strangers' stares. The "deal with your drunk friend/girlfriend already" kind.
“Lonely... sucks.”
“Huh?”
“It suuuuucks!!!!!!”
“Hey, quiet!”
Her drunken rage: cursing at full volume. Fuck.
E-rank or not, an awakener's ears rang—god knows about civilians. With pedestrians and locals piling out, Seong Ye-han swallowed his curses and soothed her.
Shut your trap, please...
A few minutes of that. His clothes now sported her "gifts" proudly, but she'd gone quiet as if her frenzy was a lie.
Dumps her shit on him then crashes carefree. What a lucky day.
“Hoo...”
If it weren't the bone-chilling winter night. If her mess hadn't soaked his clothes so bad.
He'd have ditched her without a thought. Hell, not just ditch—smashed a solid knuckle to her tiny skull while she was out. Fair trade for the stench and filth.
“Fuck.”
He somehow hoisted her up piggyback. She clung limply, at least minimally responsive.
Would've been easier if she'd kept raging... Her breath reeked, but spilled milk.
Might as well squeeze laundry cash out of her for his hassle. A conscience would cough up reward for not letting her freeze solid.
Thus, Seong Ye-han's two-room pad. Enduring side-eyes the whole way, he finally dumped her on the floor and wiped winter-night sweat from his brow.
Wanted to shower, scrub feet, crash. But couldn't just leave vomit-girl as is.
Peeling off her thick coat revealed curves that demanded attention despite the layers.
“Whoa, fuck...”
Top-tier among women he'd seen. Massive swells top and bottom, impossible to hide.
Mood lifting from the rare eye candy, Seong Ye-han started cleanup.
Coat too risky for the washer—wiped filth with wet wipes. Damp towel from the bathroom for her hair and face.
Finally, her face emerged. Objectively stunning beauty.
Eyes closed, but an air of arrogance. The vibe of an academy "bias wrecker."
And... so damn familiar.
“No way...”
A gasp escaped. He knew this face.
Not some photographic memory gift. This face had been plastered nationwide for at least five years.
“Shin Ye-hwa...”
Why the hell was that Shin Ye-hwa here?
S-rank. Post-Gate pinnacle. Modern strategic human weapon, peak of state-managed elite hunters.
One of just four in Korea. Sure, now infamous for her unprecedented rank-down to A-rank, but still A.
Famous for looks and skill—now infamous for dogshit personality, Korea's outrage magnet.
Plastered on this morning's news front page.
“Ha—”
Before her cleaned-up face, an involuntary dirty laugh burst from Seong Ye-han.