He Really Doesn't Die?

"Huff, huff…"

My heart felt ready to explode. I tore down the corridor like a man possessed. Elise had given me exactly ten minutes. Fail to return in time, and the penthouse would become a sea of fire—with me as the ash heap in the middle.

Basement 2, far corner: the security office. I kicked the door open and barreled inside.

"Handler Kang Jinsoo, reporting for duty!"

A haze of cigarette smoke filled the room. Through it, I spotted a man lounging with his legs kicked up on the desk, sitting at a cocky slant. Security Chief Park Minseok. Former B-rank hunter, and this sector's infamous hardass bully.

"…Hey there, rookie."

Chief Park raked me over with snake-like eyes.

"Fast, aren't you? Practically flew here."

"You called for me, so I came at once. If you could keep the business brief, please."

"Business? Your senior calls and you need a reason?"

He snorted a laugh and blew a cloud of smoke straight into my face.

Ah, this guy was pissing me off. But I had to endure it. Elise's countdown was still ticking.

"I apologize, but I'm currently on exclusive assignment for Number 001. I can't leave my post for long."

"Number 001?"

Chief Park rose from his chair. The oppressive aura unique to B-ranks slammed into me.

"Hey, Kang Jinsoo. You throwing your weight around just because you're handling an S-rank?"

"Not at all. Per regulations…"

"Regulations? Don't make me laugh. Some F-rank parachute hire who lucked into the sweet gig and suddenly thinks he's untouchable?"

He jabbed a finger into my chest, poke after poke. Classic bully behavior—strong against the weak, weak against the strong. It clearly burned him that an F-rank like me had snagged the S-rank exclusive post he couldn't get.

"So I called you in for a little education. Today's duty officer bailed. You're covering. Basement 3 warehouse cleanup and mana stone sorting. Finish it by tomorrow morning."

Was he insane? That workload would take an entire sleepless night even if I worked alone nonstop. And right now I needed to get back to playing human air conditioner.

"I can't."

"What?"

"Under the Director's orders, I am to maintain twenty-four-hour close watch on Number 001. If you insist, please obtain Director Seo's approval first."

I raised Director Seo Jisu's name like a shield. Chief Park's face flushed red, then purple.

"You little shit… climbing up the ladder because you've got the Director's backing?"

Crunch. He clenched his fist. Blue mana coiled around it. Killing intent pricked my skin.

"Nothing teaches a rookie like a beating. Time you learned some discipline."

He raised his fist. Any ordinary F-rank would have wet himself. I just stared back at him, expression blank.

…I'm not even scared.

Maybe because I'd just been soaking in an S-rank witch's killing intent. Chief Park's aura felt about as threatening as a chihuahua yapping.

"Are you going to hit me?"

"What?"

"Go ahead. But if you leave so much as a scratch on me, Number 001 won't sit still."

I pointed at the collar of my uniform—the exact spot Elise had ironed flat earlier.

"She really hates it when my body gets marked up. She said she'd hunt down and burn anyone who even wrinkles my collar… Think you can handle that?"

"…!"

Chief Park's fist froze mid-air. The Witch of Hellfire, Elise. He knew perfectly well that if she went berserk, a B-rank hunter would be charcoal in under a second.

"Y-you… using a prisoner as an excuse to threaten me?"

"Threaten? I'm simply checking the facts for you. Ah, and—"

I checked my wristwatch. Nine minutes thirty seconds. The deadline was breathing down my neck.

"Time's up. Number 001 is waiting for me. If I'm late, I burn to death."

I brushed past Chief Park and headed for the door. Behind me came the sound of him seething through clenched teeth.

"Hey! Stop right there! Want a disciplinary write-up for refusing a direct order?!"

"Write ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠me up. Beats burning alive."

I didn't look back. I bolted. Discipline was the least of my worries right now.

Run! If you're late, you actually die!

I sprinted full-tilt toward the penthouse again.

Ding.

The elevator doors opened and a blast of searing heat slapped me in the face. Emergency lights strobed like mad.

Don't tell me…

I skidded to a stop in front of the penthouse door and checked my watch. Ten minutes fifteen seconds. Fifteen seconds late.

"…I'm screwed."

With a trembling hand I swiped my ID card. The steel door slid open.

Whoosh!

The instant it parted, a tongue of crimson flame lashed out. The room beyond was already an inferno. And at the heart of that blaze stood the witch, red hair whipping around her.

"You're late."

Elise slowly turned her head. Her eyes burned.

"Fifteen seconds."

"P-Prisoner! There were circumstances—!"

"I don't need excuses."

She stretched out a hand. A massive fireball screamed straight at my face.

"Time for your punishment, air conditioner."

I squeezed my eyes shut. Chief Park was nothing. The real hell was right here.

KRA-KOOM—!

The giant fireball swallowed me whole. My vision flooded red. Any normal person would have been ash before they could even scream. I simply clenched my eyes shut, then opened them again—completely unharmed.

"…Huh?"

My uniform was blackened and scorched, but there wasn't a single burn on me.

The S-rank passive had perfectly tanked the flame damage. The steel door behind me, however, glowed cherry-red and began to melt.

"You…"

Elise's voice drifted through the flames. She stared at me like she couldn't believe her eyes.

"Why aren't you burning? Why aren't you dead?"

"If I die, who's going to be your air conditioner?!"

I shouted and charged straight through the fire at her. This was no time for her to stand there marveling. The room temperature was already past a hundred degrees Celsius. Stay any longer and I'd suffocate.

"Calm down! Please!"

I threw my arms around her without hesitation. Maximizing contact area maximized the efficiency of Absolute Calm.

"Ugh!"

Her body was a living furnace. The moment we touched, a sharp hiss rose and white steam billowed between us.

Mana drained out of me like a receding tide. At the same time, extreme cold poured from my palms and chest straight into her.

"Haa…"

Elise's body went limp. The raging crimson mana collapsed in an instant. The flames devouring the room died away as if they'd never existed.

"…Cool."

She buried her face against my chest and mumbled. The fury was gone; only bone-deep exhaustion and drowsiness remained in her voice.

"You were late, idiot."

"Fifteen seconds late. Fifteen seconds!"

"Felt like fifteen years to me."

She clung to my waist like a sulking child. Hard to believe this was the same woman who'd just tried to murder me.

"I thought I was going to burn to death without you."

There were thorns in her words, but underneath them lay a strange, quiet relief. I let out a long sigh and looked around. The penthouse that had once resembled a five-star hotel suite was now a ruin.

"This… the Director's going to dock it from my paycheck when she sees it."

"Let her. I'll cover it."

Elise said it like it was nothing. Furniture didn't matter to her. I—the air conditioner—did.

"But you… you really don't die, huh?"

She lifted her head and looked up at me. With one finger she wiped a smear of soot from my cheek, and her eyes sparkled.

"I like how sturdy you are. Like a toy that doesn't break easily."

"I'm a handler, not a toy."

"Shut up. Sleepy."

She closed her eyes while still hanging onto me. The bed had burned to nothing; there was nowhere to lie down. With no other choice I sank onto a corner of carpet the flames hadn't reached. Elise naturally pillowed her head on my lap.

"Don't leave. If you leave, I'll kill you."

"Nowhere to go. The door melted shut."

I gave a bitter smile at the steel door, now a solid lump of cooled slag. A perfect sealed room. Looks like I'd be spending the night alone with a witch in a ruin that stank of ash and smoke.

…What a mess.

But listening to Elise's soft, even breathing on my lap, I felt oddly at ease. At least she wouldn't be breathing fire again tonight.

The next morning, the prison corridors were in an uproar.

"Hey, you hear? There was an explosion from the penthouse last night."

"Number 001 must've gone berserk again. Even the rapid-response team couldn't get in."

"So the rookie who was inside… he's dead, right?"

Prisoners and guards alike crowded toward Basement 1, whispering. They even brought cutting torches to pry open the melted steel ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠door. Everyone expected the same thing: when the door finally came down, they'd find one charred corpse inside.

Screeech— Clang!

At last the door tore free. Thick smoke billowed into the corridor. People held their breath and peered inside. And out of that smoke, someone walked.

"Cough, cough. Man, the dust."

Uniform blackened. Face streaked with ash. But walking out on two ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠perfectly intact legs. Me.

"…Huh?"

"H-he's alive?"

"Not even a burn?"

Silence. Dozens of eyes went wide with shock. Surviving that hellfire was miracle enough—but the next sight hit harder.

"Hey, air conditioner. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Where do you think you're going?"

Elise followed me out. Instead of her ruined dress she wore my loose dress shirt. It had burned completely, so I'd had no choice but to give it to her. She casually linked her arm through mine and rested her head on my shoulder.

The problem was her outfit. My shirt hung on her like a dress, but underneath she wore absolutely nothing—bottomless. Every step flashed a dangerous stretch of pale thigh.

"I'm hungry. Feed me."

"I'll go to the cafeteria. And change clothes first."

"Come with me. I don't want to be apart."

She clung to me without the slightest care for the staring crowd, like a cat whining at its owner. No—more like a gentle lamb. Hard to believe this was the same berserk witch from last night.

"…Holy shit."

"Is that really Number 001? Why's she so tame?"

"The rookie… he tamed the witch."

"Look at that shirt. What the hell did those two do all night?"

Whispers spread like a wave. Yesterday I'd been written off as a lucky parachute hire. Overnight I'd become the emperor of the night who had brought the witch to heel.

I looked at Elise with a helpless expression.

"Prisoner, people are staring."

"Let them. He's mine—so what?"

She deliberately hugged my arm even tighter. Her crimson eyes swept the onlookers with a chill gleam.

"What are you looking at? Want your eyes burned out?"

Eek!

The gawking prisoners screamed and fled. The guards edged backward too. A path opened as if the Red Sea itself had parted.

"Let's go. I want steak."

Elise tugged me along. I stumbled after her, thinking, This rumor is going to get weird.

And of course it did. That very afternoon, a bizarre rumor began circulating through the prison.

Well, it had been scorching. Physically. A thousand degrees. But the prisoners who had no idea of the truth started snapping ninety-degree bows every time they saw me, eyes full of terror.

"Good morning, big bro!"

"Please, go right ahead! We'll take good care of you!"

Is this really how things are supposed to go?