Dojun turned his gaze toward the dungeon entrance not far off.
Dungeons were sorted into four broad categories.
Ultra-high-risk dungeons, classified as Class 1 to 2.
High-risk dungeons, classified as Class 3 to 5.
Caution dungeons, classified as Class 6 to 9.
And beyond those, observation dungeons, which carried no class at all.
[This dungeon is a Class 1, categorized as ultra-high-risk.]
Access to dungeons like these was strictly limited according to an awakened's rank, which was why only a few guilds in Korea were judged capable of comfortably clearing an ultra-high-risk dungeon, a place where black- and red-rank hunters alone were permitted entry.
[Songhwa Guild is perfectly capable of handling an ultra-high-risk dungeon. This case is exceptional...]
And ordinarily, Songhwa Guild, holding two black-rank hunters of its own, had the ability to clear this dungeon unaided.
The problem was affinity between the dungeon and the hunter.
[The environments of ultra-high-risk dungeons vary, and so do the strengths of individual hunters. Is there any need to take the hard road around a problem that can be solved the easy way?]
The ability of the black-rank hunter currently inside that dungeon didn't suit its environment.
That didn't mean the dungeon couldn't be cleared.
Even without Seonmyeong stepping in, the raid would succeed in the end.
That was simply what a black-rank hunter's power meant.
But as Hanul had said, there was no reason to pick the hard method when the easy one sat right there.
[I have no doubt Songhwa Guild would succeed. What I can't guarantee is that every hunter currently inside would come out safely.]
However atrocious the affinity, a black-rank hunter wouldn't fail to clear it.
But once the clear itself became the priority, the safety of the red-rank hunters below them turned uncertain.
[What Songhwa and Seonmyeong both want is for the hunters to survive.]
If Songhwa had been thinking of the guild's reputation, they'd never have asked Seonmyeong for help.
The raid was achievable regardless, and what the public cared about wasn't hunters wounded or killed but whether the dungeon fell.
Songhwa Guild, however, had placed the safety of its own hunters above its pride.
[So we'll leave the secondary concerns for later... and make sure everyone comes home safely.]
Hanul, wearing that virtuous smile, vanished from the screen.
Seonmyeong's raid team, who'd been watching the interview broadcast live, whistled and clapped.
“The deputy leader's something else. Answering that with that much courtesy.”
The mood inside the tent, which had gone cold as the garbage questions piled up, finally loosened.
“Asking whether Songhwa Guild is washed up? Is he out of his mind?”
“Guess he doesn't know what a live broadcast is. Does he think Songhwa's going to let that slide?”
Ultra-high-risk dungeons already drew heavy public interest, in proportion to the danger.
On top of that, word had spread that Songhwa had requested Seonmyeong's cooperation, and Hanul, publicly known to have lost his memories recently, was going in. Far more reporters than usual had come running, and crowd control had evidently slipped.
“Which outlet was that reporter with?”
Dojun checked his phone at a short buzz and answered.
“Sangmun Daily. I've flagged everyone else who asked questions unrelated to the dungeon, too.”
As he burned into memory the name of the paper that had doggedly worried at Hanul's memory problem early on, every eye in the waiting raid team swung to him.
“Did you plant someone over there? I mean, it's right next door, but...”
“Then again, no way the team leader would leave the deputy leader on his own.”
“And here I was wondering why you were sitting with us for once.”
Just as they said, if Hanul hadn't insisted on going alone, Dojun would have been over there with him. And he'd have thrown out the reporters who crossed the line, by force if it came to that.
“You do know you've got a possessive streak, Team Leader?”
“And you get jealous constantly.”
“We'd like to hang out with the deputy leader too, you know?”
“You hog him all to yourself every single day.”
It was something he heard often.
A Hanul who'd lost his memories was more vulnerable to stress than usual.
He acted fine, and he really did go about his life as though nothing were wrong, but underneath, having no memories put him under enormous strain.
As a result, Hanul's patience wore through fast in crowded places, and Dojun stepped up every time to push people back and take control.
He knew how hard Hanul worked to protect his image, and as he'd said before, he wanted the aftereffect to stop chewing any further into their ordinary life.
The one catch was that, with the behavior repeating, Dojun's image among his team had hardened into something strange.
“If you're as good-looking as the team leader, don't you get to skip the jealousy part?”
“With a partner that impressive, it could go either way.”
“You think? Yeah, fair. Someone like the deputy leader would have me worried too.”
Dojun had no particular intention of correcting their misunderstanding.
It would be hard to claim he had no possessiveness or jealousy in him whatsoever, and he couldn't say there was no personal appetite behind the behavior either.
Dojun smiled at the raid team without a word as they watched him, teasing.
Their voices climbed at the sight of that smile.
“Oh? He's smiling!”
“Is that the composure of a winner? As in, at the end of the day, I'm the one dating that impressive man?”
“So he really did declare war publicly, didn't he?”
But before Dojun could settle them down, Hanul arrived in front of the tent.
He'd been handling the reporters who'd pushed all the way onto the site, so he must have wrapped up fast.
The team members, who'd noticed his arrival just as quickly, looked up at Dojun without bothering to hide their interest.
Dojun had no intention of becoming a spectacle, though, so he blocked Hanul's path as he stepped into the tent.
“You're back?”
Hanul, who'd heard the team's chatter from outside, swept his eyes over the tent's interior past Dojun's shoulder.
Dojun took in the cool eyes at odds with the smiling mouth and nodded toward outside.
“Let's step out for a second.”
Normally he'd have taken him by the shoulder, but it was plain that Hanul had been thoroughly worked over by the reporters and was raw.
In that case, what he needed to use was his other hand: the wind.
Whish.
Hanul's brows lifted at the wind giving him a light push.
“I've got something to say about the reporters.”
Hanul looked at him without erasing the smile at his lips, then stepped back.
Dojun shot a warning look at the raid team craning their necks and straining to watch, then headed off with Hanul toward a quieter corner of the site.
Using the wind to wall off the sound so nobody could overhear, Dojun faced him.
“There's too much force in your eyes.”
“I don't know what you mean.”
Even as he said it, Hanul's gaze stayed cold.
He hid this well enough in front of the cameras.
Or is it coming out because it's me?
He didn't recognize it himself, but even without his memories, Hanul often let his emotions leak like this in front of Dojun.
Dojun soothed him evenly.
“Hanyeong will deal with the reporters who caused trouble. We've already finished checking their affiliations.”
“I take it our guild leader isn't capable of mopping up before the water spills?”
All that effort to look good for me, and he's this irritated.
The familiar tone was almost a relief, but he couldn't stand by and let sparks land on someone who didn't deserve them.
“Technically it's my fault. The reporters who ran wild at the start turned out to be connected to the guild I stomped on yesterday.”
He wondered if he'd cut too much context out, but Hanul caught his meaning at once.
“The place where turning them down didn't take many words?”
“Right. I thought I'd made the warning clear enough, but I was in a hurry, so I must have left an ember behind.”
Which was why they were sinking their teeth into Hanul like this.
The nerve.
Cockroaches. You can stomp them all you like and they don't go away.
Recalling the faces gone white and slick with cold sweat, Dojun gave a chilly smile.
“I'll make sure there isn't a second time.”
Hanul, who'd been studying his face blankly, asked as though surprised.
“I knew you hated rudeness, but you're colder than I expected.”
“I know what matters more these days.”
Because I know far too well by now that nothing carries regret like going easy on worthless people and watching my own get hurt for it.
Dojun wasn't pathetic enough to repeat a regret he'd chewed on that long.
Meeting the searching look in silence, Dojun sent a soft breeze Hanul's way.
Rustle.
“The team's coming, so let's smile now.”
Time to fix that expression.
Right now Hanul looked far too aloof, far too on edge.
Hoping it would do him at least some good, Dojun let the breeze tease at his bangs like a tickle.
