A Dream Within a Dream (1)
Thirty-seven Reproduction Gates.
Roughly eleven years of time.
"It all just went by. I didn't give it much thought, really. What mattered was whether we could clear them, whether we could survive."
Lee Jun spoke of it lightly, but the number thirty-seven was anything but light.
If there was anything ranked above S-Class to begin with, it was almost always the Reproduction Gates that earned the designation. Clearing even a single one left a profound mark on a hunter's career — and he had cleared that many.
Didn't that just… not make any sense?
"Then why… did you never make it known to the world?"
"Hm? We simply agreed among ourselves not to."
Kyle had insisted that their conquest of the Reproduction Gates be kept secret, and every one of them had agreed. At the time, it had seemed only natural.
If word got out that they had cleared gates of such high rank, they risked being hunted by those after the rewards. It was a lawless age, a time when law and justice might as well not have existed — no one had bothered to contest the proposal.
"And honestly, none of us cared about that sort of thing anyway. Fame and all that."
They had little appetite for glory. All twenty-two of them.
But Lee Jun had one more reason of his own.
Deep down, he had never believed those clearings were achievements of his own ability. He had been riding on their coattails; the thought of parading that around to make a name for himself had never once crossed his mind.
"That's all there is to it."
"Even so, if you revealed it, I believe the public skepticism about your skills — like what we saw today — would die down."
"That's not going to happen."
He had no desire to bring it up now, of all times. Especially not for a reason like that.
It would feel like selling out his comrades just to prove he wasn't washed up. And besides — putting his own name on other people's accomplishments was fraud, plain and simple, wasn't it?
"Still…."
Seo Yoon hesitated for a moment before trying again. Apparently, her curiosity hadn't been fully sated.
Lee Jun could have answered more, but somehow he felt this was where the conversation had to end.
"Let's leave it here. I've been dwelling on my old comrades too much, I think. I'm sorry if it felt like I was neglecting you, Seo Yoon."
"…I apologize. Rest well, Boss."
Seo Yoon gave a quick bow and hurried up to the second floor. She must have believed she'd upset him.
She hadn't, really — but Lee Jun didn't stop her either. He wouldn't have known what to say if he had.
{What would you say? Easy — just say what's actually in your heart.}
Silhouette, who had been quiet until now, finally spoke up.
He wondered why she was bothering him now, after staying silent all day.
{I was napping. Savoring your emotions, you see.}
Savoring, my ass. She meant she'd been watching him and snickering the whole time.
{Oh my, please don't describe me so uncouthly. I watched far more gracefully than that, thank you very much.}
Lee Jun did his best to ignore the voice ringing through his skull. Listening to her too long made his head go fuzzy, so ignoring her as much as possible was the only option.
"…Tch."
Clicking his tongue once, he headed straight up to his room. Sleep would clear his head, at least a little.
Today he'd dredged up… far too many memories. He wasn't sure he could bear much more.
"Haah…."
A sigh escaped him. Then he closed his eyes.
Slowly. Slowly… he sank down into the depths of a dream.
Or perhaps there would be no dream at all. Perhaps he would simply let time slip past in the darkness, the way sand slips through fingers.
"Hmhmhm. Assistant? Asleep?"
Creeeak—
The window slid open, and a familiar head of blue hair poked into the room.
Yelena.
She came in as casually as if the window were her own front door.
"Let's see — looks like Assistant's completely out cold? Hee hee."
Something about her was subtly different from usual as she took a slow tour of Lee Jun's room. She'd surely seen it before, yet she examined every little thing as if it were some marvel she'd never laid eyes on.
Had Lee Jun been awake to see her, he probably would have said: Is this Number 2?
But Lee Jun was asleep, and Yelena, having erased her presence entirely, would never wake him. The noise she'd made opening the window had been deliberate.
"Now, then."
A signal — not for Lee Jun, but for something else entirely.
"Come out already. Quit your crap."
Accompanied by that hoarse curse, a wrench pulled from who knew where came to point at the area around Lee Jun's heart.
"Ebra I might fool, but you can't fool my eyes."
She had it completely figured out — the foreign object lodged near his heart. Its very existence.
Suuuuup—
A moment after Yelena finished speaking, a woman's figure began rising out of the shadows on the floor.
Silhouette.
Knowing she'd been detected, she chose the graceful path and showed herself willingly. And in the same breath, she said:
"If you touch me, it'll affect him too."
Whoosh—
The wrench, swinging with speed that left an afterimage, stopped dead an inch from Silhouette's face. Yelena radiated a thick killing intent, the moonlight glinting off the murderous light in her eyes.
Frozen like that for a moment, she finally opened her mouth.
"And how am I supposed to believe that?"
"Then why did you stop swinging?"
There was no answer to that.
Yelena didn't fully believe those words. But the possibility of what if always existed — and if anything happened to Lee Jun, even by chance….
"…Damn it."
She lowered her weapon for the time being. Apparently, she'd decided to talk first.
What this being was. Why it was attached to Lee Jun. And why, exactly, it gave off such an ominous aura.
"I have a lot of questions."
"Perfect. I've got plenty to say to you too."
"I'd stay on your toes, if I were you? One whiff of trickery, and your head comes off on the spot."
For a long moment, the two women stared each other down in silence.
Tension coiled through the air of Lee Jun's room.
And so… the moonlight night slowly waned.
A deep dream.
Within it, Lee Jun was slowly swimming through the past.
'…….'
Memories always flow on and fade away. The light-leached past grows ever paler before it scatters.
So much had happened.
He had lived as a hunter for three years. Counting every previous run, thirteen. And the time packed inside those years… stretched far longer still.
Across that long span, there had been many comrades.
Many. So very many.
And it wasn't only Arcana who fit that description. The hunters who had stood back to back with him, even once. The fleeting connections he'd brushed past along the way. Counting them all… so many people had died.
'Death… hm.'
Lee Jun was not afraid of dying. No — he had believed he wasn't.
So what was the force driving him forward now?
A sense of duty? Guilt? The simple desire to live?
—I want you to live. Please.
Was it those words from back then keeping him alive? Or was it just something left lodged in his unconscious?
The people he held dear had been taken from him one by one, until in the end, all that remained was a worthless S-Class hunter.
Maybe that was what had gnawed at him. Rotting away in some pointless desk job rather than do… something. Anything.
—I… was able to grow because I met you, sunbae.
His last posting had been completely divorced from the field — a position that, by rights, shouldn't have put him anywhere near gate raids. Joining those missions had been purely his own choice. And it had cost him his life.
Truthfully, right up to the very end, dying hadn't felt like much of a loss to him. It had been a shame that his junior hadn't managed to escape, but his own death had stirred nothing much at all.
That was probably because of all the thoughts piled up in a corner of his heart. If there was one lingering knot, it was this: I could have saved her, couldn't I?
—But you… you took it down.
Yes, he had. Whether it had been a dragon or a lesser dragon, he couldn't say anymore — but he'd brought it down all the same. The thing had probably been an even more gifted hunter than anyone had predicted.
'She was weak-hearted, though.'
When Lee Jun had taken that blow in her place at the end — if she had run then, she would have lived. In the end, that would have been the greater gain.
People say no life weighs more than another. But that maxim never applied to hunters. Hunters had a duty, and for that duty… stronger hunters were, naturally, the ones you needed.
That was why Lee Jun had made the choice to take the attack in her place. What he hadn't anticipated… was that she wouldn't run.
'…Had I really built that strong a bond with her?'
At some point, Lee Jun had stopped being able to treat people sincerely. He'd seen too many deaths. If he let himself grow too close to anyone, the parting would only cut deeper when they left.
That was true for him — and true for them as well. Objectively speaking, Lee Jun was a pathetically weak hunter; it was only natural he could die at any moment. So he'd convinced himself that distance benefited everyone.
—No. The path you led us down was always right, sunbae. Thanks to you, I made it this far.
'I was wrong… then.'
In the end, it seemed simply shoving people away and keeping them at arm's length wasn't the answer. Maybe he should have said… a few kinder things.
After his regression, everything from the previous run became something that never happened. But the memories remained. At the very least, Lee Jun remembered.
And that was what sat heavy on him.
A hunter, they say, must know when to harden his heart. Objective judgment, a read of the situation in each moment. Which choice would pay off in the long run, which one would serve everyone. Even at the cost of himself, he had to move in that direction. A hunter's life must never exist for its own sake.
That was a hunter's virtue.
At least… that was what Lee Jun believed.
—The Boss is… an incredibly strong person, isn't he?
'…….'
Was his thinking wrong after all?
—Right? You made everyone understand, made them accept it, one thing at a time. Out there on a battlefield where you're fighting with your life on the line, all of that is nothing but baggage.
He could faintly hear Silhouette's voice. Those words she'd said to him once before — he had never been able to rebut them.
Come to think of it…
Wait.
Seo Yoon's reaction.
All this time, something about it had felt… off. And now, at last, he understood.
"Haaah…."
He exhaled a long breath. Dream or not, whatever this was, at least the sigh came out fine.
"…Damn it all."
Why had it taken him until now? How had he not seen it?
This.
The fact that this was still a dream.
Buzzz—
"Sleepyhead, Assistant."
"Yelena…?"
"Yep, that's me. The prodigious genius magical girl, Yelena Nikolayevna Zaychik."
She was perched on the edge of the bed, swinging her feet idly.
With his stomach still lurching, Lee Jun felt — for some inexplicable reason — relieved. And annoyed at himself for it, he answered brusquely.
"…Bit old to be calling yourself a girl."
"It's all about attitude, you know? Anyone who keeps a child's heart is a boy or a girl forever."
Humoring that nonsense could only go so far. Lee Jun's eyes darted from her to his right wrist.
The wrist was… still attached.
But Yelena's reaction was a little different this time.
"Hm? What do you know. It's there."
"…You thought it was gone until now?"
"It wasn't?"
"……."
Just as he thought.
{Hmph. I didn't expect you to wake yourself out of it, I'll admit.}
Silhouette's voice echoed through his mind. He had no idea what game she was playing, but this creature was even more… dangerous than he'd first taken her for.
{Dangerous? How rude. One of these days, you'll be thanking me.}
Not a chance.
That was never going to happen.
{We'll see about that, won't we.}
Silhouette said something cryptic.
No. First things first.
"……."
He would show Seo Yoon the wrist first.
She would… surely be glad to see it.
{…You idiot.}
He did his best to ignore that remark.