Apprentice Hero: Han Eunbyeol (4)
Han Eunbyeol's tailing led all the way to the ultra-luxury Premium Mart in H-dong. Under blindingly bright white lights, the shelves overflowed with glossy organic vegetables and top-grade foodstuffs. Right in the heart of this peaceful, upscale supermarket, Eunbyeol crouched behind a canned goods display, holding her breath in a gray tracksuit hoodie pulled low—utterly out of place amid the glamorous surroundings. Her eyes relentlessly tracked the backs of a man and woman pushing a cart through the fresh produce aisle beyond.
A massive, obese guy limping along with thick braces on both knees and ankles. And clinging to his arm like a vine, a petite woman in a windbreaker hood chattering nonstop. 'Nyestringer...' Eunbyeol swallowed hard. Ever since Rapidstar had given her the pager, she'd scoured the area sleeplessly. And finally, in broad daylight, she'd caught her target leaving the apartment and heading to the mart. Tense with anticipation, she'd begun the tail, convinced she'd witness a shady drug deal or USB handoff of snuff film footage in some dark alley any second.
But.
"......"
What unfolded before Eunbyeol's eyes was nothing but mundane peace—miles from her expectations.
"Master! Look at thiiis, Hanwoo 1++ grade! The marbling is craaazy-nyang!"
"No way. I told you, I gotta lose weight. Grab chicken breast instead."
Nyestringer—no, Miyang—was bickering playfully as she pushed the cart. Not a trace of the ruthless snuff film broker. They looked just like any happy young couple in their twenties out grocery shopping for dinner on the weekend. Deep furrows of doubt creased Eunbyeol's brow.
'Did I... get the wrong lead?'
Self-doubt flooded in. Logically, it didn't add up. H-dong was Korea's safest rich neighborhood, blanketed in security cameras. No major crime cartel execs would stroll openly through a brightly lit supermarket in broad daylight. If they were real heavyweights, cops or pro heroes would've raided the apartment long before an apprentice like her sniffed them out.
'Maybe she's just some two-bit crook who happens to live here. Maybe there was no crime den to begin with.'
As Eunbyeol huddled behind the shelf, lost in confusion and self-doubt, her targets—Ohoo and Miyang—escalated their squabble at the butcher counter.
"Aww, Master! Chicken breast is so dry and chewy—how can we eat it every daaay? Can't we grill some meat toniiight-nyang?"
"No. My legs are wrecked; I can't even run. Least I can do is stick to a brutal diet."
Ohoo ruthlessly snatched the flower sirloin pack from Miyang's hands and returned it to the shelf. His wallet—technically Park Ayoung's invincible black card—was stuffed in his pocket. Money was no object; even if it ran low, Park Ayoung's credit would cover it. But he had zero intention of splurging and packing on belly fat. Dieting was Ohoo's sole obsession.
Pouting, Miyang spotted a pile of massive, milky-white bones in the corner of the butcher section. Her eyes sparkled as she dashed over.
"How 'bout thiiis then-nyang!"
Thud. She dumped a heap of premium Hanwoo oxtail bone sets into the cart Ohoo was pushing.
"Hey! I said no meat—what's with the bones...?"
"Master! You said when bones break or you get hurt, you gotta simmer oxtails like this to heal faaast-nyang! Packed with protein and caaalcium-nyang!"
Miyang planted her hands on her hips and declared proudly. Ohoo let out a deep, exasperated sigh at her absurd yet earnest logic.
"Haa... Hey, Miyang."
"Yees, Master!"
"You know how to make beef bone soup? You gotta bleed 'em, then simmer all day by the stove skimming the fat—it's a ton of hard labor. You get that before tossing 'em in?"
Undeetered by Ohoo's scolding, Miyang flashed a bright grin and snorted defiantly.
"Psh, jeez. Worrywart much-nyang? Why would I do thaaat?"
She glanced around slyly, then whispered with a lowered voice.
"Just... tell Park Ayoung to do it-nyang!"
Ohoo's eyes widened round.
"One word from Master, and she'll jump up and simmer these bones all night till the broth is milky white-nyang! That bitch'll be sweating buckets, stirring with a ladle till dawn—heehee!"
The cheeky cat was thrilled at the thought of turning KHC's executive director into a slave auntie slaving over a pot. Ohoo couldn't help a snort of laughter at her wicked, bubbly imagination.
'Heh, gotta admit—picturing that bitch in an apron stirring bone soup by the fire would be hilarious.'
But reason cooled him fast.
"No dice. Park Ayoung's got a ton on her plate. Can't waste her time on soup, of all things."
"Aww... bummer."
"No time to simmer bones, so if you want bone soup that bad, grab some pre-made packs over there. Put these back quick."
At Ohoo's pragmatic rebuke, Miyang's tail drooped as her face fell.
"Fiiine... I just wanted Master's legs to heal faaast..."
Lips pursed, she huffed back to the butcher counter, lugging the heavy oxtail box with effort. From her blind spot behind the shelf, Han Eunbyeol had eavesdropped on every word of their peaceful routine. A heavy bitterness welled in her chest.
She clenched her fist in her tracksuit pocket.
'What... am I even doing here?'
The great S-rank hero Rapidstar had saved her personally, handed her a pager, placed his trust in her. She'd sworn to risk her life unearthing the villain's backers and become a true hero of justice. But from the start, her first mission was a total bust—despair crushed her heart.
And worse.
'Even Nyestringer... grinning so happily, picking meat in a mart like this.'
Watching the villain's cozy, leisurely daily life stirred a thick envy from the depths of her gut. It made Eunbyeol feel utterly pathetic.
She bit her lip hard. Flashes of her late grandma's wrinkled hands—raising her alone in a moldy mountain slum shack, scavenging trash—played like a montage. "My Eunbyeol... you gotta become someone great, eat warm meals like others do..." Her grandma's dying words echoed.
But Eunbyeol had never bought her grandma a proper piece of meat while she lived. Never even visited the academy nearby due to money. She'd made her cry. All her "hero play" amounted to stitching a crude costume from scavenged rags all night.
'Why... did I want to be a hero so bad?'
Maybe it wasn't grand world peace or justice. Just a desperate flail from a dirt-poor orphan craving a life a notch above criminals: filling a cart with whatever she wanted, no money worries, laughing freely. Even world-disrupting villains shopped carefree in luxury marts, living ordinary happy lives. She, screaming justice, hid in borrowed tracksuit, envying them. The weight crushed her; eyes reddening, she couldn't tear away from Ohoo's solitary back by the cart, lost in thought.
"Master~ All put baaack-nyang!"
Miyang returned with bouncy steps after returning the oxtails. Ohoo gripped the cart handle, inwardly sorry for snapping too harshly at her for shopping despite his injuries.
"Yeah, good job. Sorry if I was too snappy earlier... Huh?"
His apology cut short. His eyes locked on a small box Miyang had casually tossed into the cart.
Eunbyeol peeked out too. Assuming the villain returned empty-handed, she focused instinctively, wondering if it was some shady organization item.
But.
The moment she saw what Miyang grinningly swapped for the oxtails...
"......Hic?!"
Eunbyeol's face flushed crimson. Horrified, she ducked fully behind the shelf, hands cupping her burning cheeks.
Miyang had grabbed an ultrathin extra-large condom box from a display near the checkout.
"Hey..."
Ohoo panicked, glancing around and clearing his throat. As he reached to remove it, Miyang snatched his arm and whispered boldly.
"Whyy?! Master's knee's busted—no outdoor cardio for a whiiile-nyang! So we gotta do sweat-drenched sex diet every night in bed-nyang!"
She poked his side with a nasal twang.
"This morning, went for round two with Master but condoms were all gone-nyang! Saw 'em on sale on the way, snagged 'em quick. Master's huuuge, so extra-large only-nyang!"
The vulgar banter ringing in her ears, Eunbyeol felt her brain melting from shame and chaos.
'F-Fuck... I tailed them through all that hell just to watch pervy couple condom-shop in a daytime mart?!'
Her situation felt pathetic and absurd. Head bowed, she wanted to ditch this worthless perv stakeout and flee to her moldy slum shack reality.
Meanwhile.
Ohoo fidgeted embarrassedly with the box. '...Well.'
He coughed, averting eyes. Escaping this trash body needed calorie burn as much as diet. No running with busted knee; pool walking was out too. His only intense cardio left was mating with Miyang. And yeah, he'd used up all the condoms.
With a sigh, he slipped the box slyly between broccoli bunches in the cart.
"Fine... We'd have bought 'em anyway. Let's check out."
"Yaaay! Gonna sweat buckets with Master tonight too~!"
Watching their backs head to checkout, Eunbyeol rose from behind the shelf, turning with heavy steps toward the opposite exit.
'It's over. My hero play ends here. Tell Rapidstar... I just wasn't good enough, sorry.'
Tears welled. As she stepped forward, head down—
Brush.
Something hard touched her fingertips in her pocket. The black pager from Rapidstar. Its weight thudded her heart fiercely.
Her feet froze rooted.
'No.'
She gripped it crushing-hard. Fleeing would devastate Rapidstar. She'd kick away this miraculous chance and crawl back to poverty and powerlessness.
'Tailing Nyestringer wasn't the real goal anyway. Use her to uncover even a tiny clue to the real crime org behind.'
Biting her lip, she turned back. Even if they looked like a normal couple buying green onions and condoms now—her past as a snuff film distributor didn't vanish. They had to have shady connections.
'This is my once-in-a-lifetime luck. Can't let it slip.'
Resolute fire blazed in her young eyes.
If passive tailing yielded nothing—
She had to clash directly, wrench out a clue somehow. Desperation overpowered fear. And above all, Rapidstar's pager fueled her courage.
Deep breath in, out. She pulled her gray hood lower and turned. Without hesitation, she marched straight toward the pair at checkout, unloading their cart.
"Need bags, sir?"
"Yeah, quantity-based ones."
Ohoo fished out Park Ayoung's corporate card to hand the cashier—
"Excuse me."
A bold young voice from behind.
"......!"
They whipped around startled. Laughter froze; bodies tensed rigid.
Crackle! Miyang's slit cat pupils narrowed sharply; electric sparks instinctively gathered at her fingertips in her coat pocket. Ohoo, knees throbbing, shifted his weight low, bracing for attack despite the pain.
Just a small girl in sloppy gray tracksuit, hood low. But they instantly sensed she'd been tailing them.
"Who... the hell are you."
Ohoo's low growl met her unflinching straight gaze at him and Miyang.
And.
With resolute expression, Han Eunbyeol gripped her gray hood and yanked it back!
"Nyestringer. I know all about your back-alley crimes..."
As she declared her identity and issued her challenge—
"......Huh?"
Ohoo's body locked like poured cement upon seeing her face. Breath caught; heart pounded.
Hair revealed as hood fell—dye faded, black roots showing at scalp. But unmistakably the world's most radiant red.
And above all.
That youthful face hidden in the hood, huge eyes.
Stubborn jawline.
Identical head-to-toe to his mother—Shooting Star in her young days, the most beautiful and dazzling woman 20 years ago. Chills ran down his spine.
"M-Mom...?"
"Pardon?"
Ohoo's hand slackened on the card. Under the mart's bright lights, facing his dead mother's apparition, time froze around his fixed stare.