Hero Hunt (2)
Two sentences suffice to describe Yeom Ui-jun. First, he was one of the 36 heroes who saved the world two decades ago. Second, he's the next heir to Sanil Company, a domestic powerhouse in magic stones and one of the world's top players. As the latter, he had no reason to meet a penniless bum like me, so the purpose of summoning me today must stem from the former. His dead friend's son kept veering off course, so he was probably buying me a meal to knock some sense into me.
But the conversation at the dinner table diverged slightly from my expectations.
"Things going well these days?"
"Eh, I've got a few things in the works... Planning to give it my all."
I answered with a sheepish demeanor, as if bluffing that I had nothing substantial despite having zilch. He probably saw right through it, but it was my way of signaling not to pry too deep out of feigned interest.
Yet to my pathetic response, Yeom Ui-jun seemed almost pleased. Then, in a subtle tone, he got to the point.
"Truth is, your uncle's lined up a job for you, Dojin. Wanted to check your thoughts on it—and see my nephew's face after so long."
"A job, you say..."
I was surprised, but he picked up on my fleeting interest and continued gladly.
"A spot opened up at a school where I have some pull. Thought I'd recommend you."
Here's what he meant. Recently, a full-time professor in the Magic Engineering department at a school under his influence had resigned. Replacing staff wasn't a big deal—they could pull someone adequate—but upon hearing the news, he thought of me.
The school in question was National Academy 1, where my sister was enrolled. Coincidentally, Magic Engineering was the subject she was starting today in her second year of high school.
"The professor's a bit eccentric, but you won't have much to do. He insists on handling everything himself from A to Z to be satisfied."
Honestly, it was an incredible offer. I just had to assist with classes—no more. He hated anyone touching his research with a passion. In the end, my duties boiled down to the two weekly lectures and related tasks. And the pay? Well above the average fresh graduate's salary.
"You finished college too, right, Dojin?"
"Yes, graduated last February."
"So you have your teaching certification."
National Academy 1's curriculum spans ten years from high school to university. They admit exactly three hundred nationwide each year, but due to dropouts, transfers, and expulsions, fewer than two hundred make it to high school graduation. Fewer still—under fifty—enter the university track. Most grads head straight to the front lines. Those who slog through university must pass the teaching certification exam as a graduation requirement... which I did. Never dreamed anyone would suggest using it for me.
"Sorry, could I have a few days to think it over?"
"Of course. It's a great opportunity, so mull it over positively. Sea would love having her brother at the same school."
"That... well..."
She'd probably walk past me in the hall without a greeting. Sea—Lee Sea—is my sister's name. My aloof sister who treats her big brother like dust underfoot, yet more precious than my own life.
Yeom Ui-jun lifted his glass, his face suddenly wistful.
"Talk of school brings back old memories. Your father and mother. Si-hyeok and Se-bin. We had such fun back then."
I wrote it, so I knew the story inside out without hearing it. The academy arc in Part 1 of World Guardian. Lee Si-hyeok and Jeong Se-bin vied for top of the class, while Yeom Ui-jun... well, he was steadily in the top five. Quiet, mild-mannered, immensely talented, and backed by vast wealth—a reliable supporting character all around.
A surge of rage welled up; I barely swallowed the words threatening to spill and forced a bitter smile instead.
"If someone could bring them back... would you want that?"
Yeom Ui-jun mirrored my bitterness in his reply.
"If it led to a better outcome, sure—but we couldn't have done any better. Your father, your mother, me, the others... we all gave our all. My only regret is that your parents passed. That's it."
"That's... not your fault, Uncle."
It was an unforeseeable disaster. A rift of transcendent scale after over a decade without warning. Their honorable deaths blocking it—two people against the impossible. A sacrifice neither young Sea nor I wanted.
"You're all grown up, and here I am getting comforted by you."
His voice brimmed with pride. He gazed at me with the affection reserved for his own child.
I bowed my head to avoid his eyes, hiding my expression as I replied.
"Can't grieve forever."
Sadness is sadness, but duties must be done. Yeom Ui-jun silently refilled my glass. I sipped carefully, then said to him,
"Let me pour this time."
"Yes... yes..."
His face mixed sorrow and joy as he offered his glass.
The long dinner ended only after sunset. Yeom Ui-jun wanted more time, but he had an event tonight. I had plans too.
"Thanks for the great advice today. See you again, Uncle."
"Right. I'll put in the word at the school; expect a call."
From the back seat of his large sedan, Yeom Ui-jun gave his final words.
"No nagging—you'll do fine. But work hard. Si-hyeok and Se-bin would want that."
"...Yes."
I bowed politely in farewell, and his car vanished down the road.
Alone at last, I muttered under my breath.
"Bullshit."
The dead can't have wishes. They can't speak, move, or think. Our parents are gone, so his words were just the living deceiving themselves. Hypocrisy from a mere worm.
Glancing at my watch—7:30 p.m.—I dialed a saved number.
"Just finished. Where to?"
"Usual spot. Be here by 9."
Laid-back voice. Faint music through the receiver—she was already inside.
Time felt awkward... but I decided to head out immediately. She said by 9, not before 9.
Thirty minutes later, I arrived at the lounge bar I'd frequented lately. Pushing through the door, a familiar staffer approached with a bright smile.
"Oppa! You're here? Unnie came about an hour ago."
"In the room?"
"Yeah, the one from last time."
I thanked her and headed to the innermost room on the second floor. Luxurious private room. I barged in without knocking; the woman sipping her cocktail alone narrowed her eyes.
"Said come by 9. I wanted to be alone—out."
"What's the big deal? Thirsty on the way—pour me one."
I cheekily held out an empty glass. She scolded in a reprimanding tone.
"Since when do you freeload drinks from the boss?"
"We're a company?"
"Broadly defined, yes."
What a joke. As if any legit company specialized in this.
Irked by my backtalk, she shot me a sidelong glare and poured whiskey nearly to overflowing.
"What'd Yeom Ui-jun say?"
"Found me an assistant spot at Jeil High."
"Assistant? What does he see in you."
"Beats me. Looked at me like his own son—probably worried about my lifestyle."
"'You should've been my son...' or something?"
"Probably."
Agreeing with her mocking sneer, she clicked her tongue.
"Of all the people I've met, he's top ten most pathetic. Shamelessness has limits."
"Gets worse with age, I guess. He wasn't like that before."
"Huh? When? From what I know, he's been pathetic since childhood."
"Up to mid-twenties? Faked it till then."
"Pfft, you weren't even born. You'd have been 'goo goo ga ga' back then."
"Smart enough to tell at a glance."
I quipped back playfully; she chuckled. Refilling her glass, she advised,
"Don't drink too much. Need a clear head for work."
"Just this one."
I brought the glass to my lips; the amber liquid burned down my throat. A faint warmth in my gut.
Little conversation passed between us. Faint music and footsteps drifted from outside. The quiet stretched on until nearly 10 p.m., when she suddenly spoke.
"Dojin."
"Yeah."
"I sometimes wonder. If Si-hyeok and Se-bin saw you now, what would they say? Would they grieve that the kid they raised turned rotten... What do you think?"
Intrigued expression. Probing tone. I answered plainly.
"Pointless to imagine. The dead don't think."
She smiled, satisfied. Nodding, she downed her glass and drew close.
"Almost 10. Time to work."
Boredom in her eyes shifted to crimson glow.
I stood, finely tuning the mana in my body.
Shhh— Like wind brushing curtains. My body changed. Bones shrank, features shifted. Black mist enveloped me.
She watched calmly.
"Back in an hour. Don't dawdle."
"Won't take that long."
"Almost forgot. Take this."
A mask appeared in her hand. I took it, grumbling.
"Already changed my look—do I really need this?"
"It's our concept. Stick to it."
"Ah, right... Of course, crucial matter. Absolutely."
"...Why the weird speech?"
"Huh? What's weird?"
I played innocent; she huffed, displeased.
"...Whatever. Do a good job."
"Yes, Boss."
"Shrimp calling me Boss only now."
She snapped her fingers, mimicking a movie line amid her grumble.
Crack— A sharp sound echoed; I felt myself leaving the room, teleporting elsewhere.
Thoughts turned to my talk with Yeom Ui-jun. Her question.
Meaningless. The dead are just dead.
Which means...
If they lived, it'd be different.
Thud! Impact jolted me; my feet hit solid marble floor. Not the bar's room anymore—a lavish party hall. Suit- and gown-clad guests stared in shock, then screamed deafeningly.
Bloody Fog this, Black Devil that. Embarrassing nicknames I'd never get used to. I grimaced. Good thing about the mask.
"Hoo..."
Steadying my breath, I advanced straight ahead. Thirty meters on, my target stood.
The lowliest of the thirty-six heroes. S-rank hunter Yeom Ui-jun.
Before closing in, I steeled myself, glancing at the edge of my vision. A hologram shimmered, visible only to me.