Chapter 10
Chapter 10
More Than Just Friends, No Matter How You Look at It
Taechun immediately led Aren and Ran to the infirmary.
To be precise, “led” wasn’t quite right.
He simply walked ahead, and the two followed behind, watching his mood carefully.
Knock, knock.
When the door was tapped, a medical staff member stepped out.
“Y-Yes, who is— Chairman?!”
“Can they undergo a mental evaluation right now?”
“E-Excuse me?”
“……”
“A-Ah, yes! Of course!”
Even from a hundred meters away, it was obvious Taechun was in a bad mood.
At the level of an S-rank Hunter, the very air around him changed.
It wasn’t something you could hide—just being near him made it hard to breathe.
The staff member, realizing their mistake in questioning him, mentally slapped themselves and quickly adjusted.
“Th-Then… should I prepare a mental evaluation for the two behind you?”
Taechun gave a slight nod, and the staff hurriedly ushered Ran and Aren inside.
“P-Please, come in and wait. I’ll start the machine right away. The test takes about 20 minutes…”
The staff member glanced at Taechun.
It was a silent question—would he wait that long?
“I’ll wait.”
“A-Ah, yes. I’ll do it as quickly as possible.”
“Accurately.”
“Y-Yes… accurately.”
With a deep bow, the staff member had Aren lie down first in a machine resembling an MRI scanner.
“Just… what exactly happened to you…?”
It was the same staff member from earlier, staring at Aren in disbelief.
He came in the afternoon with the chairman’s daughter.
Now at night, he brought the chairman himself?
He was supposedly just a regular agent—what kind of person was he?
“It’s a long story. Please proceed with the test.”
“…Alright. You may feel fear or discomfort briefly, but it isn’t real, so don’t dwell on it.”
Inside the cylindrical machine, it felt like something was being inserted into his brain.
Not physically, but a magical wavelength was being applied.
His body felt like it was floating.
Scenes flashed before his eyes—like a nightmare, or an unpleasant dream.
His consciousness blurred for a moment, then cool air brushed against his skin again.
“W-Wait… the machine has never malfunctioned before. Why is this…”
“That’s likely the correct result.”
As expected, an abnormal mental stat must have appeared.
There was no way this precision device—one of the research team’s finest creations—would malfunction so easily.
Not wanting to keep Taechun waiting, Aren quickly got up.
“Please proceed with Ran’s test.”
“W-Wait, Aren. This isn’t a normal reading—”
“I’m aware. Please don’t keep the Chairman waiting and proceed.”
“….”
The staff member hesitated between verifying the result and not keeping the chairman waiting.
“…Understood. Please lie down, Miss Ran.”
In the end, fear of delaying Taechun won.
Though Taechun was known nationwide for his cold demeanor, seeing him visibly irritated like this was rare.
Ran completed her test as well.
“…This… this doesn’t make any sense.”
The staff member looked even more confused now.
“It seems the test is done.”
After waiting exactly 40 minutes, Taechun stepped into the room.
“C-Chairman… it just finished, but the machine might be malfunctioning…”
“What are the results?”
He asked flatly, as if that was all that mattered.
“Aren is at 54… and Miss Ran is at 58…”
Even as they spoke, they looked like they didn’t believe it themselves.
“All indicators—fear, anxiety, despair, guilt, helplessness, self-loathing—are extremely low. Aren has slightly elevated guilt, and Miss Ran slightly elevated anxiety, but this still might be—”
“That’s enough. Their field test already showed over 30.”
“…Excuse me?”
“So the results are likely accurate. I have something to discuss. Please leave.”
“….”
The staff member looked between the two in disbelief.
This level of mental stat didn’t just mean strength.
It meant something had been broken—worn down, shattered, and rebuilt into something abnormal.
Clack.
Once the staff member left, Taechun looked down at them and spoke.
“Explain.”
Just one word.
But the air froze, and a burning intensity flickered in his eyes.
“Aren.”
“Yes, Chairman.”
“Where did you meet Ran, and why are your mental states like this?”
“….”
Aren briefly exchanged glances with Ran.
If their answers didn’t align, things would only get worse.
It lasted barely half a second—
—but they understood each other.
“Say one year ago.”
“We became acquainted a year ago while working as independent hunters.”
“And your mental state?”
That question had no answer.
They couldn’t exactly say they survived a collapsing world, enduring countless mental-type gates.
“…It’s difficult to explain.”
The moment he answered—
Creak.
An overwhelming pressure crushed down on Aren.
“Ghk…!”
He was forced to his knees.
It was Taechun’s S-rank ability, Domain Control.
Even a light application made it hard to breathe.
“Dad! What are you doing?!”
Startled, Ran immediately stopped him.
Aren was only an E-rank Hunter right now.
Even a small application of that ability would be unbearable.
Without hesitation, she hugged Taechun tightly.
“What are you doing to a regular agent?! He’s E-rank! Stop it right now!”
Normally, that would’ve been enough.
But not this time.
“Ran. Yesterday, your mental state was normal. Today, it’s abnormal. You couldn’t recall the current year and asked for this agent.”
“Th-That’s—!”
“You demanded to be placed in Gate Management Team 3, went out secretly to eat with him, and returned together during an emergency—then entered the gate alone.”
From Taechun’s perspective, it was madness.
His daughter had suddenly changed.
And it all started after meeting this man.
“And now both of you have mental states like this.”
His anger was inevitable.
“What kind of gate did you enter? A time-distortion gate? Were you trapped for years and witnessed the end of the world?”
It was a sharp deduction.
Not entirely correct—but not entirely wrong either.
“Release Aren first.”
Ran glared at him.
“He worked hard today. He handled a D-rank mana predator earlier, and just now rescued seven agents from that gate. Is this how you treat someone who contributed?”
“Answer me.”
“If you don’t release him, I won’t talk to you.”
Silence.
Their gazes clashed in midair.
Crackle.
It almost felt like sparks flew.
But Taechun relented first.
He knew if he continued, Ran would break before he did.
The pressure lifted.
Aren collapsed briefly, then steadied himself.
“Are you okay, Aren?”
“I’m fine.”
He refused her help and stood on his own.
Nothing was broken. Nothing was ruptured.
It was just pressure—hardly worth making a fuss over.
Taechun’s brow twitched.
“Now speak.”
“…I can’t.”
“Ran.”
“I really can’t! It’s not that I won’t—it’s that I can’t!”
She looked frustrated.
She had planned to tell the truth.
But—
Clench.
Her heart tightened painfully.
“Khk—!”
And at the same time, Aren felt the same pain.
‘So we can’t speak about the regression…’
It seemed revealing the future to others triggered a restriction.
“Please think of it as something caused by a gate for now. Once we find a way, we’ll explain everything. When Aren learns to control his ability better, we might be able to tell you.”
“Ability?”
Taechun’s eyes sharpened.
‘He shouldn’t have one.’
He had already checked Aren’s profile.
There was nothing listed.
‘They both suffer when trying to speak… Not a gate. An ability-related restriction.’
His mind worked quickly.
“…Very well.”
He understood—for now.
“But find a way soon.”
That didn’t mean he would wait forever.
“If you gain any insight into this ability, report it immediately. I’ll provide any support necessary.”
It wasn’t comforting.
It was pressure—solve it quickly and explain everything.
“And one last thing.”
Taechun looked coldly at Aren.
“Are you two in a relationship?”
“…What?”
The tension instantly shifted.
Just moments ago, it felt like he might kill Aren.
And now this?
“No. We’re just friends.”
“Y-Yeah! What are you even saying?!”
Both denied it immediately.
They had been through hell together.
But romance?
That wasn’t it.
At least, that’s what Aren thought.
“I see.”
Taechun nodded and left.
His expression looked noticeably softer.
Perhaps that had been the most important question.
Left alone, Ran and Aren looked at each other.
“Seriously… Dad goes from serious to that out of nowhere…”
“Yeah…”
Ran’s cheeks flushed faintly.
Aren didn’t notice.
“You’re really not hurt, right? Why would he even use his ability on you…”
She grabbed his face, checking him over.
Aren let out a small chuckle.
“…Why are you laughing?”
“You’re overreacting.”
They had died once together.
This was nothing.
So he joked.
“The place you pinched earlier hurts more.”
“Even when I’m worried about you…!”
She pouted and pinched him again in the same spot.
“Ghk— that really hurts…”
“It’s supposed to.”
That day became one Taechun would never forget.
And the day Ran kept pinching the exact same spot on Aren over and over.