The Yellow Dandelion Blooms

"It's time to let her go."

The parents spoke in somber voices at the bedside of a girl no older than an elementary schooler.

"It's been over five years already. And you know we can't afford the hospital bills anymore."

"But..."

The wife tried to protest, but her husband gently cut her off.

"You know it too, honey. If this keeps up, you're the one who'll collapse next."

Buying new clothes had been nothing but a dream since the day their daughter first lay down in that bed. He worked at the office by day and drove for a ride-hailing service by night, never sleeping more than six hours. His daughter was precious — but so was his wife.

Every word of it throbbed like a knife wound as he forced it out, but someone had to say it. His wife worked at a restaurant all day too; her once-soft hands were covered in calluses. And sadder than all of it was the dream of their daughter who would not wake.

"...All right."

"I'll talk to the doctor."

Knock, knock.

Just as the couple clung to each other in tears, a voice came through the door along with the knock.

"Is this the hospital room of Miss Shin Minji?"

"Yes, it is. But who...?"

A man in his forties in a crisp suit entered the room together with the girl's attending physician.

"Good day to you. I am Kang Il, Chief Executive Director of the Yellow Dandelion Foundation. Please, just call me Director Kang."

True to the foundation's name, a small yellow dandelion badge was pinned to the lapel of his jacket.

"You would be Miss Minji's guardians — Mr. Shin Jaehyuk and Ms. Lee Hanseul, I presume?"

When Director Kang's watch projected a hologram scrolling through their faces, careers, and personal records, the couple recoiled in alarm.

"Wh-what — how? We haven't done anything wrong!"

"My apologies. I had no intention of startling you. Yes — you two are certainly the ones."

Seeing the couple cower, Director Kang waved a soothing hand.

"I've come to help you."

"Help us? But we have nothing to give."

Director Kang smiled at them, then pulled up their information in the hologram once more.

"You have nothing to give. If anything I've said is mistaken, please correct me. Now, just a few questions."

"Ah... yes, of course."

"Your husband first. Shin Jaehyuk, thirty-two years old. Office worker by day, ride-hailing driver by night?"

"Th-that's right."

"And your late father was a police officer, I see. He died helping people during the Cataclysm, and was designated a hero of merit."

"That was a long time ago."

"And yet you volunteered for police service anyway — even though children of fallen heroes are exempt. Why?"

After the Cataclysm, the Alliance had dissolved the standing army and created a new three-year mandatory police service ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠system to maintain public order.

"It's nothing, really. My father told me to go, before he passed. That's all."

Director Kang met the husband's eyes with a faint smile, a glint of light in them.

"Still, serving three full years was your own choice. That's admirable. I needn't look any further."

The couple stood frozen, utterly unable to grasp what was happening, staring blankly ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠at Director Kang.

"I'm sorry, but why would you... all of a sudden—"

"Ah! The doctor here will explain everything."

Director Kang stepped back, and the girl's physician stepped forward with a small vial in hand.

"What is that?"

The small bottle held a liquid shimmering with every color of the rainbow.

"A Mandrake Remedy. I'm sure you've both heard of it?"

"Mandrake...?"

Ever since their daughter had fallen into her coma, the couple had searched everywhere for a cure. And each time they learned the only remedy was the Mandrake potion, despair had crushed them.

The fact that their own poverty and inadequacy were what kept them from obtaining it made the grief all the heavier.

"The Yellow Dandelion Foundation will be providing it for you."

"But... we have no money. Why on earth would you give something so precious to people like us—"

The cure that could save their daughter sat right before their eyes, and still they fidgeted, unable to reach for it, looking helplessly at Director Kang.

"Your daughter's family has lived honestly and worked hard, even in the hardest of circumstances."

"That's hardly anything special."

Director Kang gazed at the couple with warm, kindly eyes.

"Hmm. In my eyes, it's rather special."

He continued scrolling through their records.

"No criminal record, an impeccable reputation with everyone around you, a spotless internet history — you don't even have so much as a single one of those speed-camera tickets everyone racks up. Living honestly is harder than people think."

"But still..."

"Life has a way of bringing special days to those who wait, you know. It did for me once, too. Let's call today that day for the two of you."

"Thank you! Thank you so much!"

The couple bowed their heads again and again, tears streaming down their faces. Their tears dripped and pooled across the hospital room floor, but neither of them cared.

"It's quite all right. Our foundation was established only a few months ago, so there is an enormous amount of work to be done. If you're interested, do reach out. Our welfare division is second to none."

Director Kang handed them a business card along with a badge identical to the one on his own chest, shaped like a yellow dandelion.

"This is the emblem of our foundation. Now and then, if you happen to look at it and whisper a bit of good luck for our founder, he would be very pleased."

Wait... will he actually find this annoying?

Recalling Karen's personality, Director Kang chuckled inwardly.

"We'll treasure it forever. I'll pray for him every single day."

"Then I'll take my leave. You should see your daughter's face again as soon as possible."

"D-Director Kang. This is all we have, but please, at least take this—"

When crumpled banknotes spilled out of the husband's wallet, Director Kang smiled and waved them off.

"Please, don't worry. The money will be coming from somewhere else entirely. And a great deal of it, at that."

Leaving the couple behind, Director Kang stepped out of the hospital, where a waiting vehicle glided silently up to carry him away.

"Director, shall we head to the next location?"

"Yes, let's."

As his car pulled away, black security vehicles fell in seamlessly before and behind it. The guards' suits all bore the same dandelion badge as Director Kang's.

The next hospital was nothing like the slightly worn-down one they had just left — an exclusive VIP facility.

"Director, even we shouldn't—"

"No. We mustn't cause a commotion in a hospital. It would startle the patients."

When the bodyguards tried to follow him in, Director Kang held them back.

"Good day to you."

Upon entering the immaculate, spacious private room, a crowd of people rose to greet Director Kang.

"So it's you? The one carrying the Mandrake Remedy?"

A man in his twenties, who had been sitting beside an elderly patient's bed, slicked back his hair and glared at Director Kang.

Right — frankly, this sort of thing is what feels familiar.

The contemptuous stare, as if looking at an insect. The suffocating atmosphere. This was the battlefield he fought in every single day.

"That's correct. I'm Director Kang of the Yellow Dandelion Foundation."

There was no need to give such people his full name. They wouldn't care, and they wouldn't remember it anyway.

"Who do you people think you are, popping up out of nowhere and demanding a trade? Fifty percent of my fortune? Are you insane? Has that medicine even been verified?"

"It has already been verified. Did the hospital director not pass along word?"

Strictly speaking, no scientific or medical analysis had been performed — but the potion's effect was beyond question. Too many doctors had nearly fallen over in shock watching half-dead patients sit up and open their eyes.

A man on the verge of death had risen from his bed. If that wasn't verification, what was?

"S-still, fifty percent is absurd!"

"Compared to what your grandfather will wake up to hand down, it's hardly ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠significant, is it?"

"Hmph! I suppose not. Damn old fool — couldn't even leave a proper will, just keeled over out of nowhere."

"Oh my... You must have treated your grandfather very well, then?"

"That's right! I've always been good to him — just listen to me, and everything will go smoothly. If it weren't for the inheritance, why would we even need to keep a wrinkled old geezer alive?"

No matter how you looked at it, saying such things right beside his own unconscious grandfather — Director Kang clicked his tongue inwardly.

"Fifty percent is still too much. Do you have any idea who I am? Hand over the remedy quietly, and I'll let you leave here in one piece."

"Then let's make it sixty."

"What?"

"Is sixty not agreeable? Then how does seventy sound?"

"...Are you mocking me right now?"

"Eighty."

"You crazy bastard. Do you have any idea where you are?!"

"Ninety."

"Grab that son of a—!"

"One hundred percent! My, what a fiery temper you have!"

At the enraged man's shout, the bodyguards in the room strode toward Director Kang's side.

"One moment!"

At the sudden bark, the guards flinched to a halt and looked back at their employer.

"What are you idiots doing?! Grab him already!"

The sight only inflamed the man further, and he shouted at his bodyguards to hurry.

"My, you're an impatient one. Allow me to show you something."

Director Kang had deliberately brought no guards of his own — because he had someone far more terrifying on call. He placed a call from his watch.

The bodyguards bolted from the room like the wind, kicking the door open as they fled, and only Director Kang and the man remained in the sickroom.

"Uuugh..."

Though it was only a hologram, the man sank to the floor, trembling uncontrollably.

L-Lee Chaerin? An S-Rank Hunter — the monster who crushed the entire Musashi Guild single-handedly?

Chaerin's fame had never been quite this great before. But when footage and photographs of the interior of the Musashi Guild — torn apart by Chaerin's rampage — had been made public, the man's terror shot past its limit.

And on top of that, public outrage over the guild's atrocities had reached a boiling point, with ordinary citizens cheering her on. Even in retirement, Lee Chaerin's stock was at its ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠absolute peak.

"P-please spare me."

[Hm? Why would I kill my own money line? Just cooperate nicely. Or I'll come find you myself.]

"Thank you, Lady Chaerin."

[You've been working hard. Let's grab a drink together sometime.]

"Of course. Until we meet again."

Unlike the man's expression, the call ended on a note of warm cheer. Director Kang's face was purely businesslike, carrying not a trace of hostility toward him — and yet to the man, he felt as chilling as a death god.

"N-now then, valued customer. Shall we have you sign here? Out of respect for your standing, we'll process it as a charitable donation. You're actually quite lucky, you know — there are far more terrifying people than us in this world."

Director Kang drew a contract and a pen from his coat. The fifty-percent version had never been brought along in the first place. A thorough background check on every donor was mandatory.

Well — once the inheritance comes in, a pittance like this is just a drop in the ocean.

Even while trembling, the man ran the numbers in his head, and with a shaking hand signed the contract Director Kang held out.

"Thank you for your business. Then, if you'll excuse me—"

The moment Director Kang left, the man slumped with a long sigh of relief. Right. It was all for the best. The inheritance would be here soon enough...

"Gwahk! Why are you back?!"

"Ah! My apologies — I left something behind. The pen. You do have to return the pen."

"Ah... the pen?"

Come to think of it, the pen he had signed with was still in his hand.

It's just a lousy pen... insects, all of them...

The man all but threw the pen back at Director Kang.

"My, my! Thank you kindly. By the way — did you know this pen has other functions as well?"

"What?"

Director Kang twisted the end of the pen a few times, and a familiar voice poured out of it.

The moment his own words played back exactly as he had spoken them, the man's face drained white.

"You... you!"

"This will become a very special gift from our foundation, to be presented the moment your grandfather wakes. He's truly fortunate to have such a devoted grandson. Wouldn't you say?"

"AAAAAAAAAHHH!"

Listening to the man's shriek of despair behind him, Director Kang stepped cheerfully into his car.

"Director. Are you finished?"

"Yes. Have we still not tracked that matter down?"

"We've gotten as far as we can."

As Director Kang skimmed the dossier his aide handed over, his brow furrowed.

"There's this little material on the Solari Church?"

"Our apologies."

"No matter. I'll report with this tomorrow. She'll be waiting for us, after all."

Karen would say nothing, of course. But Director Kang himself was not satisfied with this. He was supposed to bring Karen the very best results, always.

I do wonder what Karen and Samsaek are up to right about now. The weather's starting to turn cold before long.

"Master said it on TV! Snow in two weeks! Snow!"

"You've watched that snow forecast hundreds of times and you're still not sick of it?"

"It's my first snow with you, Master!"

Karen looked down at Samsaek, who was bouncing up and down on the sofa, with a strange expression.

Sentimental in the strangest places, that one.

One more season with this creature and it would be a full year together — and he still couldn't make heads or tails of it.

"Enough of that. What's the next drama?"

"The newest one this time! It's based on an old legend. I think it was called Heokkaebi?"

"That does sound fun."

"And the famous lines people posted on HunTube are so cool!"

"Yeah? Like what?"

Samsaek stood upright on his hind legs like a person, hopped up onto the backrest of the sofa, and, donning his most solemn expression, delivered the line.

"My heart kept swinging in a dizzying pendulum, from the heavens down to the earth. It was my first love."

"...I think the actor might be the problem."

The line itself was genuinely compelling. The trouble was hearing it from a plump cat — immersion never stood a chance. But Samsaek paid Karen no mind whatsoever, and with a wistful look on his face he recited another line.

"I'll come to you with the first snow. I'll pray to the gods for it."

"Just put the drama on."

"How was I, though? Think I'd make a good actor??"

"You'd be perfect as the villain's sidekick, lounging on his armrest in old cartoons."

"Kku-ing?! That's too much!"

"Your acting was worse."

And so the two of them kept up their harmless bickering, passing the days away as they waited for the first snow to fall.