The Bet (2): All for a Phone Number

“···What are you giving me?” Min Soyeon asked, as if she’d misheard.

“Your phone number. We have to spend the whole year together. Not even having each other’s contact info is ridiculous.”

“···You caused all this chaos just to get one number?”

Min Soyeon stared at me with utter disbelief. I gave her a small smile and answered.

“If I’d asked for your number, would you have given it to me?”

“No.”

Exactly as I thought.

I handed her the cold bottle of water I’d prepared earlier and continued.

“Anyway, you worked hard today. Tomorrow I might be the one who loses…”

She took the bottle, eyes widening into perfect circles.

“···Tomorrow? You’re telling me we’re doing this nonsense again tomorrow?”

“Don’t want to? If you hated it that much, you should have won.”

I shrugged, teasing her just a little. She bit down hard on her lip and glared at me. Her face was full of complaints, but since she had undeniably lost, she had nothing to say. The frustration was written all over her.

Watching her like this reminded me so much of how she looked as a little girl that a warm smile crept onto my face before I could stop it.

“···Is something funny?”

Her expression grew darker. I quickly pulled the corners of my mouth back down. If I kept teasing her, she might actually get sulky. Time to ease off.

I gently steered the conversation toward a compliment.

“Still… I really almost lost back there. Are you sure you never learned swordsmanship? Your mother didn’t teach you?”

The moment I mentioned her mother, Min Soyeon’s eyes trembled violently.

···Hm?

I was still trying to figure out that strange reaction when she lowered her head and answered in a voice so soft it was almost swallowed by the air.

“···I didn’t learn anything like that.”

There was a quiet loneliness in her answer ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that lingered.

*

After class, I managed to get Min Soyeon’s contact information. She looked extremely reluctant, but since she wasn’t the type to go back on a bet, she handed over her number without further protest.

I immediately dialed it, saved the number from the call log, and added her as a contact.

“···Done.”

A pleased smile rose naturally when I saw her name on the screen. Excluding the landlord and the social worker, this was the first real contact I’d saved in this phone. In my heart I wanted to name her something like Beloved Daughter ♥ the way I used to, but I had no choice but to keep it simple.

Min Soyeon was adding my number too, but unfortunately I couldn’t see what name she used for me.

Right after we exchanged contacts, she gave me a stern warning.

“Don’t bother me with useless messages. It’s annoying.”

I gave a vague answer and let it slide.

On the way home, I typed up my thoughts about our little game of tag on my phone. In terms of swordplay itself, I had almost nothing to criticize. I was judging her based on everything I’d seen and heard while standing beside my wife, and today’s display had been flawless.

The problems came after that.

First was her stamina. She had only been attacking one-sidedly for five minutes, yet she was already breathing hard by the three-minute mark. Her speed dropped, and the power behind each strike weakened noticeably.

A sword is a weapon that devours stamina. For Min Soyeon, who had to stand at the very front as the vanguard, this was a massive weakness.

Of course, it was greedy to expect that kind of endurance from a girl who hadn’t trained seriously until now. The fact that she could swing a sword that long at all was already impressive.

I typed 1. Stamina Training into my notes.

The second issue was mana.

The fact that she could wield a sword and raise her mana at the same time was incredibly promising. Using a weapon and mana simultaneously is like drawing a square with one hand and a star with the other. The fact that she managed it right away proved she was a true genius.

But… she had no idea how to control it properly. She had simply flung it around however she could, and her mana ran dry almost ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠immediately.

Since she took after both me and my wife, she probably wasn’t lacking in raw mana capacity. If she could just learn efficient control, the synergy with her swordsmanship would be explosive.

I added 2. Mana Training to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the list.

Truthfully, the problems weren’t only on her side. I was the bigger issue.

Yu Jihwan’s body had an extremely small natural mana pool. If Min Soyeon’s was a water tank, mine was barely a bathtub. For someone who needed to launch spells from the rear, this was a critical flaw.

The silver lining was that mana could be increased. Like muscle, the more you used it, the more it grew. Equipment embedded with mana stones would help with efficiency, but that was financially impossible for me right now.

And today I realized my own stamina was just as pathetic as hers. I thought I had been training it properly, but that was pure delusion. The bout had been short; if it had lasted even a little longer, I might have lost.

I needed to train my body too.

The fortunate part was that I already knew excellent methods to improve both mana and stamina. All of them came from my wife. Back then, when she dragged me along saying we should train together, I hated it more than death. I never imagined it would help me like this.

Even Ju Yeonhee—the Sword Empress who had shaken the entire hunter world—possessed incredible natural talent, but the truth was that she had poured in monstrous effort. She hadn’t been like that during our academy days. Only after officially entering the hunter world did she suddenly develop an obsessive desire for growth.

She said she needed to become stronger to protect her husband… or something like that.

If she wanted to be strong, she could have just focused on herself. Instead she dragged me everywhere, and thanks to her I eventually reached A-rank. We ended up working together far more often, so it was all good in the end, wasn’t it?

Well… she’s dead now.

“···.”

Lost in thought, I walked until I realized I was already near the house. I hurried upstairs, took off my uniform, and began cleaning. The place was so small there wasn’t much to do. I washed the dishes from last night, then ran the vacuum cleaner the landlord had given me across the floor.

I thought about mopping too, but after using my body all day the idea felt too bothersome, so I gave up. Dinner time was approaching and I needed to cook rice, but I couldn’t find the motivation to move.

···Forget it.

I’d eaten a solid lunch. Skipping one meal wouldn’t kill me.

While I was rolling around on the floor doing nothing, my eyes drifted to the phone on the desk. Without thinking, I picked it up and opened the messenger app.

The chat window was empty, as expected. The last conversation was with the social worker from a month ago.

I quietly scrolled through my friend list.

Her profile was completely bare—just the default icon and an empty status message. A girl in the prime of her youth really left it like this?

I started to worry. Most academy students, boys and girls alike, modified their uniforms to show off their figures or wore makeup to stand out. It was only natural at their age.

But Min Soyeon did none of that. She left her uniform untouched and wore no makeup at all. Of course, since she took after her mother, her natural looks were already outstanding. Still, I hoped she would enjoy her final years of school life.

···Though I prayed she wouldn’t enjoy them quite as freely as her mother and I once had. One experience of attending class while holding a baby was more than enough.

Thinking about the past brought back the memory of the first time I met my father-in-law—the day I showed up in uniform with a child and immediately slammed my forehead to the floor.

“···.”

If Min Soyeon suddenly appeared holding a baby, how would I react?

···A bloodbath would probably break out.

I closed my eyes, clasped my hands, and offered a silent apology.

I’m sorry, Father-in-law.

After rolling around on the floor thinking about all of this, my stomach finally started to complain. People really do need to eat.

“Ugh…”

I dragged my tired body upright and considered what to make. Stir-fried bean sprouts and pork? Boiled pork? Bean sprout salad? Since I was feeling lazy, I decided to throw together something simple.

I slowly moved to the kitchen, put rice on to cook, then sat at the desk and mindlessly surfed the web. That was when one article caught my eye.

The article explained that the more difficult the relationship—between parent and child, in-laws, master and disciple, boss and subordinate—the more conversation was needed. It suggested using a messenger app as the tool. Face-to-face talks required constant attention to tone and wording, but messages carried less risk of missteps.

Hmm. It was surprisingly convincing.

I was reading it again with interest when the timer on my phone rang. The rice was ready.

I left the computer, set up the small folding table in the corner, and prepared dinner. Tonight’s meal was plain rice, bean sprout salad, and the side dishes the landlord had given me. Meat would have been better for recovery, but washing extra dishes sounded like too much work, so I postponed it until tomorrow.

“Thanks for the meal.”

I turned on a random video and began eating slowly.

While I ate and stared blankly at the screen, the article I’d just read suddenly came back to mind.

The more difficult the relationship, the more you should talk. Use messenger whenever possible.

A distant father-daughter relationship. The advice fit my situation ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠perfectly. Since I already had Min Soyeon’s contact, it was worth trying.

“···.”

I set my spoon down, picked up the phone, and closed the video. I opened the messenger, tapped her profile, and hesitated, wondering how to start. My eyes fell on the dinner table in front of me.

That seemed affectionate enough. I sent it.

But the moment the message went through, I remembered what she had said earlier that day.

···Oh well. What’s sent is sent.

Eating was a serious matter. You needed food to have strength. You needed strength to train. As her partner, I figured this level of contact was acceptable. If she wanted to reply, she would. If she didn’t, she could just ignore it.

I set the phone down again, turned the volume up just in case, and returned to my meal, keeping the screen in clear view.

How many hours passed like that?

A reply finally arrived from Min Soyeon.