Sickly Beauty
"Here they come! Hold steady now. Alright, then... uh...."
The reporter, shouting at the top of his lungs as he rushed toward the gate, trailed off mid-sentence.
It was nothing like the scene he'd imagined.
"......"
Hunters began emerging one by one.
Their appearances bore stark witness to the ordeal they'd endured—clothes torn in places, splattered with filthy fluids, dirt, and blood.
They looked like they'd just escaped straight from the gate.
"Finally. They're out."
"Ha, haha. Yeah. It was a long one."
"We survived, at least. Hmm."
But there was no trace of the reactions one might expect from survivors—no cheers, no ecstasy, no overwhelming sense of liberation.
Of course, they were glad. They'd made it back alive.
Yet their expressions carried something else—a relief tinged with sorrow, like thorns deeply embedded in flesh had been pulled out, leaving wounds that still nagged at the nerves, something suppressed and lingering.
"Why the weird reactions?"
"And the vibe... it's off, isn't it?"
It wasn't just the heavy atmosphere.
A sense of unease flickered in the hunters' eyes.
Their gazes were heavy and solemn, like those of veterans who'd seen it all.
Sure, surviving an anomaly could change a person after such grueling trials.
But for every single one of them—the massive crowd pouring from the gate—to have undergone the same transformation? That didn't add up.
Some would have fled to survive or shied away from fights.
That's why even the headhunters dispatched from the companies narrowed their eyes, scrutinizing the group.
"This really the Ant Nest Gate?"
One even poked the hunter beside him, asking again in disbelief.
"They all banded together and overcame it. Doesn't that explain it?"
"Ha. You're joking. Idealistic crap like that doesn't happen in gates."
They were hunters too, with plenty of field time.
Humans didn't unite just because an anomaly threw them a common problem. If anything, they got worse.
"Or maybe... someone with insane skills led them all? Nah, that's even more idealistic."
"Hold up. They're still coming."
The headhunter fell silent.
A man in pristine white emerged from the rippling gate.
His priestly robes were soiled, yet he still exuded an aura of pure sanctity.
"The Eden ace really exists."
"Ahh. Yeah. Now it makes sense."
"Exactly. That explains everything."
"Mikael, the junior priest from Eden. Rumors said he was a rising star, but clearing it outright like this..."
"Tch. No recruiting him now. Another Gate Liberator for Eden—they're growing too fast."
Headhunters, naturally, stayed on top of hunter society news.
They knew the reputation of Eden's rising ace, Mikael, the fast-climbing prodigy.
The puzzle pieces snapped into place.
Eden's junior priest, volunteering at the Ant Nest Gate, got caught up in it and led the hunters to resolve the anomaly with his healing powers.
But oddly, the doubts lingered.
"Still... something feels off, right?"
"Why?"
"Their faces don't look thrilled. If he pulled that off, you'd expect some hero worship or something...."
The young headhunter had a point.
The other hunters showed none of the expected reactions.
If Mikael had saved them from the anomaly, there'd be instinctive signals—adoration, unwavering trust.
Nothing.
As questions filled the air, Mikael paused and stepped aside.
And finally, the star of the show appeared.
Six hunters on each side carried a stretcher.
A human silhouette lay clearly atop it, shrouded in a massive cloth emblazoned with Eden's cross symbol.
Pristine white fabric covered the figure completely.
"Uh...?"
"Injured? But why...?"
It didn't feel like a simple casualty.
The temperature difference between the hunters and the stretcher was stark.
They were ragged, wounds screaming of the anomaly's ferocity.
The stretcher, by contrast, was serene. Not a speck of dust marred its immaculate white.
And their handling—gentle, as if transporting something irreplaceably precious.
"Who's that?"
"Zoom in. Get a clear shot..."
"Hey, don't push there! Uh, um?"
Onlookers twisted for a better view, but the figure remained hidden.
Only the face was faintly visible—too thick to cover completely.
"......"
"What? Why'd they stop and... uh...."
Just a blurry glimpse of the face, and everyone froze.
The aura was utterly mystical.
Not just the delicate features—everything about the scene.
Beginner hunters from the Ant Nest Gate, yet carrying a solemn air unfit for novices. Eden's pristine priest. And the beautiful being they cradled so protectively.
An untouchable presence.
Reporters, headhunters, officials—none could tear themselves away.
Then.
A twitch.
The cloth over the stretcher stirred faintly.
"Ah, ack."
"Mikael-nim!"
The hunters reacted instantly to the tiny movement, flustered and calling for Mikael.
"It's fine."
Mikael placed a hand on the cloth at once.
Flash.
Holy light bloomed, illuminating the transfer passage.
"Just a hand, and it's that radiant?"
"Rumors undersold him. Way undersold."
Healing wasn't simple—anyone could patch a breath away from death, but it demanded focus, varied by hunter.
Rarely did holy power flare so brilliantly on contact.
"It's stable. Breathing and wounds are calming."
Mikael adjusted the cloth with meticulous care, a faint smile touching his lips.
Headhunters and company hunters watching tilted their heads.
"Wasn't he supposed to not care about others?"
"Total bullshit rumors."
The rumors weren't entirely wrong.
But Mikael had changed in the Ant Nest—especially his view of Yeonwoo.
"Guess the liberator's the one on the stretcher, huh?"
By now, it was obvious.
Which only fueled the curiosity.
The one every Ant Nest survivor doted on without exception—the clear leader who'd commanded through the anomaly.
What anomaly had they faced? What injury left them unconscious, carried out like this?
Mouths watered with questions they couldn't voice.
But the hunters encircling the stretcher blocked all approaches.
"Hold on."
Enter the big companies.
Eden's prodigy demanded a match from a major company's name hunter.
A lanky man strode forward, blocking their path—not bulky, but marked by a scar across his eyes.
"From Babel."
The passage froze at those words.
Babel Company. Led by a hunter who'd liberated two gates. One of the hottest, fastest-growing outfits.
"......Isn't that Dokgo Kitak?"
"What? A Numbers hopeful personally at the Ant Nest? Damn, Babel's ruthless."
Babel's Black-rank hunter. Everyone recognized Dokgo Kitak instantly.
His fame aside, the name stuck.
"Dokgo Kitak. Let me confirm that person."
"......"
Black rank. Tier IV or higher powerhouse.
His low murmur carried weight, crushing the passage.
Yet a petite female hunter pushed through boldly.
She pointed squarely at Dokgo Kitak.
"Move."
"......"
Dokgo Kitak gazed down at her impassively.
She wore her dagger at her waist, not in her Bag.
"Hoh."
He stroked his chin.
"As I said, I'm from Babel—"
"Babel my ass. Move—we gotta go."
Babel's name meant nothing.
She glared up with blatant hostility.
"Heh, feisty. Fine."
Dokgo Kitak shrugged.
Eyes were everywhere.
Ant Nest survivors glared silently, pressuring him to step aside.
"Hmm."
He assessed them.
Black rank meant he could gauge hunters by gaze and aura alone.
Those eyes were dead serious—not bluffing with threats, violence, or power.
Seven sharp stares, like weapons aimed— all clustered near the stretcher.
"Unbelievable."
High praise, in his book.
He'd come for talent; their emergence thrilled him.
No intent for pointless clashes.
Facing them now, that intent vanished.
"See you around."
He stepped aside.
And watched them pass, committing every detail to memory.
What hunter changed them? What influence? What power did the Gate Liberator wield?
His gaze sharpened like a snake spotting prey.
"Keep going. We need to hurry."
"Yes. Right."
As they advanced amid the stares.
"Oppa!"
A woman shoved through the crowd recklessly.
Hunters moved to block her, but—
"Ah."
Only Mikael recognized her instantly.
She was the one who called him "oppa" now and then.
"It's fine. Family."
"......!"
Hunters startled, parting ways.
But they avoided looking straight at the approaching Yeonseo.
Family made them feel inexplicably guilty.
"Stable for now. So, just sleep..."
Mikael tried explaining.
But Yeonseo was faster.
She shoved past him, throwing her arms around Yeonwoo's body.
"What happened! You said you'd make bank—why didn't you come back!"
Yeonseo scowled, yelling.
Anomalies were unavoidable bad luck.
But unavoidable made it harder to bear.
She'd barely slept, waiting day and night—only to see him carried out.
"You said we'd live well! But starting like this—what am I supposed to believe, you idiot!"
Tears streamed as she clutched the motionless Yeonwoo.
"......"
Pushed aside, Mikael stared blankly at Yeonseo.
Yeonwoo's cherished little sister, with her warm smiles and eyes.
"......Why."
He murmured softly.
Odd.
She touched him, close even.
No discomfort around a woman.
Not because she was Yeonwoo's sister.
His eyes fixed on Yeonseo's arms.
Clinging to Yeonwoo with all her strength.
Touching so freely—should feel rude, unpleasant.
No such feeling.
"......!"
Mikael flinched like startled prey.
That was his real sister.
Perfectly natural.
Why had he even thought that? Confusion swirled.
"Unconscious, but it'll be fine. Yeonwoo Hun—er."
He caught himself mid-sentence.
Instinct overrode reason.
"Yeonwoo-hyung has stabilized. He'll wake with time. I swear on my Lord's name."
Mikael explained kindly, utmost comfort for grieving Yeonseo.
But his gaze lingered between Yeonwoo and her.
Couldn't look away from that effortless closeness.
This was normal.
Lifelong family vs. his mere month-long bond.
Yet he couldn't tear his eyes away.
Imagining himself in her place.
Why? Felt like his spot was stolen.
"Keep. Moving."
He squeezed his eyes shut.
Some time after the Ant Nest Gate's liberation.
"Ugh...."
Yeonwoo's eyelids fluttered.
A strange sound pierced her ears, rousing her.
"......"
But she realized it was her own voice.
"Hoo."
Time to get used to it, yet facing her relaxed body still flustered her.
Yeonwoo slowly opened her eyes.
A stark white ceiling greeted her.
She furrowed her brow slightly, blinking until her vision cleared.
"Familiar ceiling."
A sight from her veteran days, rolling like a dog in the field.
Hospital, naturally.
She sat up slowly.
How long was I out?
No major issues, but a faint sluggishness lingered.
She moved immediately—rotated her arms, twisted her body.
A bit thinner?
Felt slimmer, maybe imagination.
Strength was fine, though.
"Awakened bodies are wild."
She swung her legs off the bed, feet hitting the floor, standing.
Slip.
The loose patient gown slid off her shoulder.
She grabbed it hastily.
"Really got thinner—"
Her eyes met the full-length mirror on the wall.
"Huh."
Still her stunning self.
But the vibe had shifted.
Thinner lines overall.
Yet the fullness transmitted through her gown-clutching arm hadn't diminished.
Before, unfamiliar gazes lent a decadent allure.
Now, pitiful fragility stirred protective instincts from every pore.
And in the baggy gown, desperately holding it up—
"U, ack...."
Yeonwoo's face flushed crimson.
This was maddening in its own way.