Already Enough
September had come. Little enough had changed in the meantime: the gap between the days and the nights had begun, slowly, to widen; she had left the hospital and come home; and the contract with Siwoo had been broken.
Cat Wandering the Darkness proposes a word-chain game to you, the first in a long while. Will you accept?
The matter of the broken contract must have satisfied it. Lately the cat had been in excellent spirits. Eunha gazed at the message window floating before her eyes, and a memory of other days rose, unbidden.
Cat Wandering the Darkness begins to tremble, insisting the outside is dangerous, too frightening, and that everyone seems to hate it.
That had been the cat when she tried to escape the Unknown Gate. It had not wanted to leave, and it had seemed to want Eunha to stay there with it.
It whimpers that it only wanted to play a little longer, just the two of them, and that Unni is the only friend it has.
In the end it had given her the last item it had hidden. Even so, as she stared into the yellow window, Eunha's eyes sank deep.
Enemy, or ally.
If someone asked her which of the two the cat was, the answer would of course fall nearer to ally. And still she could not wipe away an unease that had no name.
Cat Wandering the Darkness presses you. Well? Well? The word-chain game. Are you playing, or aren't you?
Watch it in silence, and it was only a cat, without a single suspicious thing about it. A creature outside the Twelve Divine Beasts. What it truly was, and why it was so kind to her—she knew almost nothing, once she stopped to think.
Here—call it a whim! If you win the word chain, Cat Wandering the Darkness promises a donation of 1,000 coins. Will you accept?
She stared at the window as if there were something she meant to say. Then she swallowed it, and opened her mouth, light and brief.
"Eventide."
A coin chimed.
You have acquired 1,000 coins!
For now, it seemed wiser to watch a little longer.
The next day.
"Congratulations on your discharge!"
Jehwi arrived early in the morning for Eunha's discharge party. In truth a full two weeks had already passed since she left the hospital, but by his account, trifles of that sort were nothing one needed to mind when throwing a party.
"You haven't eaten yet, have you? I picked this up on the way. Gimbap and tteokbokki—seaweed rice rolls, and spicy rice cakes. And this is something Jerim snuck out of the house. Quite expensive liquor. Yes, that's right. Royal Charlotte."
A day like this deserved at least that much. The back of the hand he rubbed across his nose was bruised a livid blue. He had taken a hard spill on his bicycle not long ago, he said, and mottled bruises still seemed to linger all over him; even so, he was reluctant to speak of it, insisting it was nothing for a hunter to worry over.
"Oh, and I ordered pizza on the way, too. I didn't know what you'd like, so I went with half-and-half for now."
"..."
"Ah, I'd better tidy the kitchen first. Good grief. How many beer cans is this? You drank all of these again? You haven't been out of the hospital any time at all."
He tied on an apron with easy, practiced hands. It was the apron that lived in Eunha's home, though she had never once put it on; for all practical purposes, it was his.
"This is exactly why the president worries—ahem. Hm. Anyway, Hunter, drinking beer before bed really isn't a good habit."
The cans clattered as he gathered them and cleared them away. Eunha watched his back in silence, then spoke.
"Manager."
"Whoa, the peanuts I bought—where did they all go in just a few days... yes?"
Jehwi's eyes went round.
"I told you last time, too. You really don't have to keep coming like this."
"...Ah."
He set the recycling bag down, quiet about it. Then, a little crestfallen, he stole glances at her, trying to read her mood.
"Am I being a nuisance, maybe...?"
"No. It isn't that. I know your injuries haven't all healed yet, either."
Feeling, for no good reason, as if she had become the villain, Eunha lowered her voice another degree and went on.
"As you know, Shin Siwoo and I broke the contract. So you don't have any obligation to look after me anymore—"
She had to stop before the sentence could finish. His shoulders had slumped, small and wretched, and the look on his face was unbearably forlorn.
"Hunter, I'm fine. It only looks like bruising, that's all. Thanks to the president—no. I really am fine. Please believe me. Or is it because I nag? It's all for your sake... never mind. I won't say another word."
"..."
"This is something I'm doing because I want to. Nothing more. You're the one who saved my life. My younger sibling's, too."
"But you must have other work, don't you?"
"Other work... I don't."
The slow answer, and the way his eyes slid aside, was a little hard to trust. And sure enough, there were two things Jehwi had never told her. First, that he had already handed in his resignation. Second, that Siwoo had taken that resignation, canceled it, and ordered him to assist Eunha from a distance for the time being. As matters stood, from a distance was not what he was doing.
"If you're all right with it, Hunter, I don't want to work for the job. I want to work for you."
He bowed deeply before her.
"...All right."
In the end, Eunha nodded. He had gone this far; she could hardly drive him out of the house. And in truth, having him nearby was not uncomfortable in the least. Because of him the place gleamed. The refrigerator never emptied, and her clothes and bedding always carried the clean, pleasant scent of fabric softener.
About ten minutes later, sleeves rolled high, he had laid out—quite literally—enough food to bend the legs of the table.
"Come on, eat. Hunter. Congratulations again on your discharge. Oh—and on your hunter suspension ending, too."
"Thank you."
Eunha took the plate and offered the short thanks. As he had said, her suspension from hunter activity had ended as of yesterday. The evening before, a notice from the Hunter Association of Korea had arrived in the mailbox.
"What a relief. It seems the Association doesn't know you entered the Busan Unknown Gate."
Jehwi was beside himself with joy. He could hardly have missed that the internet was ablaze these days with every kind of rumor about the Princess of Dark Flare. He must have been worrying all along while pretending not to; only now, his face gone light, did he say it.
"The Great Sage Equal to Heaven, as expected. So the rumor was true—that he founded the guild on loyalty alone. This must be his way of saying thank you for rescuing the Bulmyeol guild members, don't you think?"
He smiled in relief, and the two of them raised a toast to the lifting of the Princess of Dark Flare's suspension.
About an hour after that.
"Aigo, aigo, my stomach!"
He keened. Drunk past dignity, Jehwi knocked his forehead against the table.
"How can the world be like this, Hunterrr. You've suffered every suffering there is, you've achieved every last feat there is!"
"..."
Eunha sipped from her glass and glanced at him. He stared a hole through his phone, the very picture of a man dying of frustration.
"Why did that damned machine judge you F-rank? If not for that, you'd be A+ by now—no, you might already have risen into the S-rank ranks! You didn't give a single step, even fighting the Great Sage Equal to Heaven!"
"Manager. You're drunk."
"No! I am, I swear it, perfectly sober. What's not sober is this world!"
He shrieked, and thumped his chest as if the injustice were too much to hold.
"In what way, exactly, are you an F-rank Concept Hunter? Even if you go around in a flashy dress—huh?—carrying some grotesque parasol! Well?! Where in the world is there a Concept Hunter this strong?"
"..."
Eunha gave up on stopping him and looked away.
"By all rights you ought to be sweeping up wealth and fame right about now... It's unfair. It's so unfair..."
This wouldn't do. His head snapped up. Face set, he began to tap at the screen.
"Then I'll tell them myself. How strong our Hunter is. How righteous..."
"Manager."
Eunha's voice was quiet.
"It's all right."
"But..."
"I mean it."
She said it again. At the corner of the table lay a passbook, turned face-down—the last thing Siwoo had left, just before the contract was broken. The bare minimum that loyalty required? Or only pity? She couldn't tell. With that money she could live for years, no, for decades, without once worrying where the next meal would come from. It was that much. Enough. And even this officetel had, by now, passed into Lee Yura's name.
"But there's no one who recognizes you."
"I've never wanted anyone to."
Not before. Not now. Not after this, either.
Eunha lifted her head and looked at him.
"You're here. Your sibling is here. Bulmyeol knows all of it. That's enough."
Not once had she thought she wanted to become a famous hunter.
No. If anything—the opposite.
If it were possible, she wanted to look for the thing she herself had meant to do. Not as a hunter. An ordinary life. She wanted to go back to that ordinary life she had believed lost, that day. If it was not yet too late.
"...Hunterrr."
Jehwi sniffled, and in that moment the doorbell rang. Had the pizza come?
"I-I'll get it."
A moment before, his nose had been planted on the table. Now he jerked upright and stood. Had he been pretending to be drunk...?
Several dozen seconds later, his voice carried from the entryway.
"L-Legion? Wh-what business could you possibly... have?"
Legion? Eunha rose from the table without a sound.
"By the master's order, I have come to escort the Princess of Dark Flare."
An unfamiliar man's voice. Eunha stopped. Across the green cloak on his back, stars embroidered in gold thread glittered—and so did a name.
"I am Bae Junhwan of Legion."
Legion. The guild name of Trickster Song Minju shone in the cloth.
Jehwi had worked in this business for more than ten years, however he might look. There was no chance he would fail to know the man.
Bae Junhwan. Vice master of Legion.
Why was he here—a man famous even among A-rank hunters, ranked near the top of them? Did he know about the Unknown Gate? Even if he did, there should have been no tie to Legion.
No. Before that. Maestro, and Trickster too—just what kind of connections does Hunter have?!
His gaze flicked to Eunha. The drink had burned out of him long ago. Her head was tilted. Her brow was drawn, only slightly. Seen from outside, she looked like someone receiving a stranger.
"I was told you saved our master at the Yeouinaru Station Gate. And that you were suspended from activity because of it."
"...Ah."
Only then did the question leave her face. She remembered who he was. He had been one of those following behind, back when she led Minju toward the gukbap house—the little restaurant of rice in hot soup. She hadn't known then. She knew now. He was no kidnapper. He belonged to the same guild as Minju. She had brought Minju home that day, so he must have learned her address from Minju. There was no other way.
"I was quite rude, the other day."
"Not at all. The apology is ours to make."
Eunha inclined her head, and Junhwan bent deeper still.
"On behalf of the Legion family, allow me to offer our deepest thanks. Truly. Thank you."
"I only did what had to be done."
The answer came back plain. Slowly, Junhwan raised his head. He had thought her an F-rank Concept Hunter, her identity unknown.
Master, what was it about that Concept Hunter that you liked so much?
Talk with her even a little, and you'll like her too. I'm sure of it.
He gazed at Eunha. Then, clutching the beret he had removed, he dipped his head once more.
"The master requests that you visit headquarters. The figurine you promised each other, the other day, to make together—it has arrived."
Eunha looked at the back of his bowed head, and blinked, slow.
A figurine...?
The same question rose across Jehwi's face, where he stood at the side and watched the two of them in silence.