A Misunderstanding Most Forbidden

"Should I call this forbidden love, or what..."

I'd tossed the words out with a breezy laugh, but the situation being what it was, they didn't feel the least bit light. No—what had he even been thinking, showing his face again in the first place?

...One thing I'd learned while tearing that gate to shreds last time: apparently, I am not the sort to grow tenderhearted just because a pig happens to talk. Which is why, had Kim Minchul been nothing more than a garden-variety monster-phile, I'd have kept my mouth shut as well. At most I'd have filed him under 'lunatic' and, thoroughly revolted, wished he'd confine such tastes to venues without me in them.

But lusting after your own mother? Really?

"I truly don't know what to say to that~"

At the very least, he could have asked to meet her privately later. Why, of all timings, did he have to blurt it out while I was standing right there? If Tiamat hadn't been squarely in the victim's seat, I might at least have managed a few words of my own. With the situation as it was, perhaps it couldn't be helped that something like a groan of despair slipped out of me.

"You guys!! Our homeroom teacher's gonna tell us about his girlfriend!!"

"Ooh~ Teacher, you have a girlfriend too?"

If there was one problem, it was that the place I currently occupied was the club room. And our club's roster consisted, save for me, entirely of high school girls. A universal trait of the species: the moment romance enters the conversation, everything else ceases to exist. In the end, I would have to pay the price for daring to utter the words forbidden love in front of a room full of high school girls.

"No, that just slipped out. Pay it no mind and let's get back to practice. Okay?"

"G I R L F R I E N D!! G I R L F R I E N D!!"

Of course, I flailed in my own way, but the students, astonishingly, couldn't have cared less. Yoonha most of all—perhaps because she'd had her nose buried in a monster encyclopedia since club activities began. Her neck seemed to have cramped up on her. Besides, it's an eternal truth that to a student parked at a desk, even a traditional Korean music festival counts as riveting entertainment. Still, the sight of Yoonha drumming on her desk like an agitated orangutan was frankly terrifying.

"Oh my, Teacher. You have a girlfriend too?"

But at Lee Yeeun's follow-up remark, I found myself bristling despite my better judgment. The girlfriend business from moments ago was already an unwelcome misunderstanding on my end, but still—what did she take her teacher for?

"No, hold on."

I slowly closed the mouth I'd opened to fire ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠back—because the moment I tried to compose a proper lecture, I remembered that I didn't, in fact, have a girlfriend. Not since becoming a hunter, come to think of it. Naturally, there were unavoidable circumstances behind that: a girlfriend, you see, would cut into valuable monster-slaying time. And just like that, roughly ten years slipped past. When I finally came to my senses, the finished product stood complete—Park Woochan, single since birth.

"Hmmm?"

"Really?"

Cold sweat slid down the back of my neck before I knew it.

Huh? I'm a lifelong single?

To be fair, back in elementary school I'd had no interest in such things, and in middle school, pretending not to care about them was simply what passed for cool at that age.

"Hmm."

Breaking news: Park Woochan, lifelong single. Officially confirmed.

"You never really seemed all that interested in that sort of thing, Teacher."

"Right, right, sounds about right~"

"No, that's not true."

"Honestly, a pretty girl puts me in a good mood too, kids. It's just that killing monsters feels even better..."

In the end, unable to meet the children's innocent gazes head-on, I could do little more than offer a halfhearted reply.

"I-I did."

I'd started to say I had one, then hastily swerved into the past tense. Honestly, even I could tell that claiming to have a girlfriend right now would be transparent as glass—my schedule alone made that clear enough. What kind of man with a girlfriend keeps a calendar like mine?

"Ah, I'm dying to clock out."

The thought surfaced as pure escapism before I could stop it, and a miserable question even flickered through my mind: could I get away with retroactively classifying the girl friend I'd had as a kid as an 'almost-something'?

However.

"Hm?"

Contrary to my expectation that the girls would pounce the instant they heard I'd had a girlfriend, a strange hush settled over the classroom instead. The students merely traded perplexed glances with one another. I couldn't tell what was going on, but it beat the oppressive mood from moments ago by a wide margin.

"Oh, right. Kids—since we're on the subject, what do you all think about forbidden love?"

When I steered the topic elsewhere, the relief that spread across their faces was impossible to miss. Granted, hardly a topic fit for students, but it would do for clearing the air. It wasn't as if a lifelong single agonizing over the question alone was ever going to produce an answer anyway.

"Forbidden love?"

Well, even I had to admit it came rather out of left field. Then again, I'd certainly seized their attention in exchange. It stung a touch that they looked more focused now than during any actual lesson.

"Hmmm, like, a teacher and a student?"

"I'm the teacher and you're the student!!"

What era was that drama even from, honestly? It wasn't a line that suited the modern day to begin with—plenty of couples start as teacher and student and end up married. This wasn't some Jin Yong wuxia classic, for heaven's sake.

At that, the students' gazes on me turned subtle in a heartbeat. Fair enough—it wasn't wrong, but then again, hardly something a sitting teacher ought to say.

"Ahem. Anyway, I mean relationships that draw far heavier social condemnation."

"Aw, what's that?"

"Teacher, we can't tell what you mean just from hearing it~"

"Tell us~"

The little punks, stretching their voices out like they were toying with me.

"Yeah, well, you know how one of the student teachers here supposedly got a confession from her adoptive son—"

I stopped myself mid-sentence. It was admittedly rather hard to explain, in more ways than one.

"Well, if it's just the two of them and they're happy, isn't that fine?"

"And if one side says no?"

"That's a crime."

"Isn't that a problem before we even get to 'forbidden love'?"

Put that way, they weren't wrong. Fair enough—before forbidden love or anything else, dating violence and assault were simply crimes. It felt like the matter had settled itself rather neatly. Granted, there was the minor detail that, in my case, the coercer was human and the one refusing was a monster. But it's true that seeing it that way made everything far simpler: Kim Minchul was a psychopath and a criminal-in-waiting, nothing more. Circumstances of my particular kind had me viewing things at a slight slant, but coldly considered, that was the whole of it.

Yes—I felt like I'd settled on a rough policy for how to handle Kim Minchul from here on out. Not that I'd ever be seeing him again.

"Who could it be? Big Sis Tia? Or Hunter Shin Seoa?"

Having thought that far, I turned my eyes from Hayeon, who had been muttering incomprehensible names for some time now. From the students' theories on romance, born of 'forbidden love,' to whatever attitude Hayeon was working through—watching it all made a sigh rise of its own accord.

Well, today's lesson is down the shitter.

Not that I hadn't started it myself.

"Might I trouble you for a moment of your time?"

Oh, for fuck's sake.

And yet—quitting time. As if to mock the very thought I'd entertained mere hours ago, Kim Minchul had come looking for me at once. In the most classic fashion imaginable, no less: waiting by the front gate as school let out. Wrapped head to toe in the same filthy tattered rags as that day. Suspicious didn't begin to cover it.

In fact, the students streaming through the gate were already tittering behind their hands at the sight of him. When I squeezed my eyes shut, I could feel my temples throbbing.

"Uh—sorry about the cursing earlier. It slipped out. Uh, you're Kim Minchul, correct?"

"I am. Did she speak of me? Ah, how delightful."

Fuck.

I half-forcibly strangled the curse that nearly leapt out a second time. No, seriously—why? Why must the divine burden me with such trials? Tiamat herself was on staff here, so why come looking for me of all people, you little shit? Do you and I even know each other? I was aching to ask.

But. I stole a glance around. The students were still watching this way, murmuring among themselves.

Well, I'm fucked.

To ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠me, Kim Minchul was nothing more than a lunatic and a would-be sex offender, but at his core, he was a terrorist. With a situation like this at hand, I couldn't afford to provoke him carelessly. In the end, my shoulders sagged in defeat.

"Uh, I've got a prior engagement. Leave me a way to reach you and I'll... think about it."

"Of course. Whenever suits you."

"Please do," he said, extending an open palm toward me like an invitation. At that profoundly unbothered demeanor, I clicked my tongue without meaning to. It was behavior far too composed for a terrorist—and precisely because of that, his thinking was laid bare. It most likely genuinely made no difference to him.

He's confident he can shake off either outcome.

Well, fine by me. If that was how he saw it, it only worked in my favor.

I pulled out my phone and texted Hayeon that I'd be late. And, at the same time, Lee Joongoo.

He'd handle whatever came after, presumably. Part of me had wanted to palm the whole thing off on Tiamat, but as luck would have it, I'd never saved that woman's number. For that matter, I wasn't sure she even owned a phone—and even if she did, I certainly wouldn't have stored it.

"Shall we be off?"

"Let's."

Kim Minchul nodded readily and turned his back to me first. For a fleeting moment I considered driving a blade in right then and there, but I decided against it. No particular reason—only that it seemed wiser to let him lead me to some secluded alley or hideout and round them all up in a single sweep.

Except.

"Well? Quite the pleasant atmosphere, wouldn't you say?"

I had not, in my wildest projections, expected to be led to a café. Lesson learned: never attempt to read a madman's mind. What—what the hell was this guy? I caught myself dry-washing my face several times over before giving up, ordering whatever was on the menu, and taking a seat. Good lord—it had been all of a few hours since I'd come to terms with being a lifelong single. And now here I was, sitting face-to-face in a café with a bastard who thinks with his dick. Honestly, I wanted to pass out.

"Actually, I scouted this place with her in mind."

No—at this rate, suicide was starting to feel like the more dignified option.

"Fuck's sake, why are you telling me that? Shouldn't that be for her to hear?"

And what kind of reaction was he fishing for, anyway?

"Well, isn't it just darling? So sparkly and bright—why, merely looking at it lifts the spirits, hmm?"

Perhaps testing the limits of my patience was this hooded freak's idea of a hobby?

"You did have business with me, didn't you?"

"Ah, that's right."

When I answered, wetting my throat with my drink against the dizziness, Kim Minchul nodded along. ...The face beneath the hood was, admittedly, a handsome one. With features that striking, he'd hardly want for female company anywhere he went. To add a spoonful of honesty, I'd even thought he had something of the playboy about him. Tsk tsk. A shame the screws came loose so young.

"The truth is, I've taken something of an interest."

"Pardon? In whom?"

"In you, Teacher, naturally."

"For fuck's sake—I like women. Kindly get lost."

"Have no fear. I, too, love only Tiamat."

"Nobody asked. Why do you keep doing this? It's rather uncomfortable."

"Hmm. How saddening. And here I thought we might become close, Teacher."

Kim Minchul shrugged as he said it. I'd originally planned to simply play along and keep the mood even, but that last remark contained something I could not overlook.

"'Become close'? What kind of bullshit is that?"

"Er, it wounds me a little when you rage at that particular part."

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Just answer the question, and quit pissing me off."

Don't fucking make me laugh!!

Where in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠any of this did you see room for me to buddy up with an aspiring incest enthusiast, you demented monster-worshipping piece of shit?!!

"To phrase it with precision, I should say: I wish to become close."

"Well, I don't."

"Come, come—no need for that, between fellow comrades."

"Sorry? My fucking auditory nerves must have just short-circuited—what did you just spout?"

"I said: fellow comrades."

At that impossibly placid tone, I began slowly observing Kim Minchul in return. Not that I felt any kinship, or the slightest urge to hear him out.

Boy, this bastard. He really had been born with a magnificently punchable face. Whatever connected with it was bound to feel satisfying.

"Teacher Park Woochan? I know of you as well. In your active days, I hear you made quite a name for yourself under the moniker 'The Butcher'?"

"Kindly refrain from calling me that."

"Very well. In any case, I must confess that the simple fact of you standing at her side struck me as profoundly strange."

"I know perfectly well she's a monster, so let's have your business and be done with it."

Click.

Kim Minchul's face, which had been gauging my reaction with that measured manner of his, suddenly went rigid.

"So you knew."

"It came up, one way or another."

If anything, what baffled me was that nobody else could tell. Seriously, how was that not obvious? She was a monster at a glance.

"Then this will be quick."

"Oh, finally the main event? Good grief, I nearly died of old age waiting."

"Once, you were a hunter whose loathing of monsters earned you the name Monster Slaughterer. And yet now, you stand beside her."

"Uh, I suppose 'we work at the same job' can be phrased that way, sure."

I had no clue what he was driving at. He did have a flair for over-interpretation, but I filed that under delusional disorder and let it go.

However.

The next instant, at the words that left his mouth, even I—mid-debate over which fist to throw first—felt my mind blanch stark white.

"Seeing that look on your face, I finally understood."

"Ah, yes. I'm simply on the edge of my seat to learn what epiphany you've reached—I'll be staring wide-eyed at the ceiling all night in anticipation."

"You, too, are in love with Tiamat."

"The fuck did you just say?"

For a moment, my mind reeled.

"Huh?"

"No, what."

"Wh—what did you say?"

Fuck. I'd never been able to stand those selectively deaf bastards—not a single one of them. So this was how it felt, huh?

"And so, I have a proposal to make to you."

"No, hold on—"

"To you, who once despised monsters, yet now yearns for her—"

This bastard had never learned what a conversation was.

"Won't you come with me to the Order?"

"Ah. I see."

Only then could I bring myself to nod.

The bastard's out of his mind.

The next moment.

A flipped table hurtled straight for his face.

All that deliberation had been for nothing—what I had chosen was a front kick, one capable of caving his face in on the spot.