Chapter 47 ….
A Frog Hole
“Do you think he’s sleeping?”
“I don’t know. It kind of looks like his eyes are open… or maybe closed….”
“Hmm. No, I think he’s sleeping.”
A boy said this with his arms crossed, adding the reasoning behind his conclusion.
“I mean, even though we’re making all this noise right in front of him, he’s not reacting at all!”
“Is that so?”
“That’s what I’m saying!”
“Hmm….”
But the girl beside him wasn’t convinced. She had a very suspicious nature and kept considering the opposite possibility.
On top of that, the faint smile on the man’s lips felt somewhat mischievous to her.
“I still don’t think he’s sleeping….”
“Then how about asking the teacher? Maybe the teacher knows!”
“Should we?”
At another boy’s suggestion, the children looked at one another. After nodding their heads up and down, they turned toward the caregiver who had been standing a little distance away, watching them.
“Teacher!”
“What do you think, teacher?”
“He’s sleeping, right? Right?”
“Umm….”
At the children’s questions, the caregiver looked at Choi Yeon.
She wanted to answer right away, seeing the children’s expectant eyes, but in truth, she wasn’t certain either.
It was the first time she had ever seen eyes that narrow—she couldn’t tell whether they were open or closed.
Still, based on the information she’d heard that morning, she guessed he was asleep.
Another reason was that he remained still even as the children gathered around and chatted like spectators. If he were awake, wouldn’t he have said something to the kids staring at his eyes?
“Teacher thinks that….”
Just as she was about to finish her judgment—
The door to the living wing opened leisurely, and Kim Inbeom walked in. Carrying a bag of bread and a cup of warm coffee, he paused.
“…Huh?”
He looked flustered at the sight of the children surrounding Choi Yeon like actors on a stage.
The incomprehensible scene piqued his curiosity.
The caregiver approached him and gave a brief explanation.
“It seems the kids are wondering whether Hunter Choi Yeon is awake or asleep.”
“Ah. I see.”
“What do you think, Inbeom?”
“Me? I think he’s awake.”
“Oh my.”
The caregiver stared at Kim Inbeom intently. She was curious about the basis for his conclusion, which differed from hers.
Could he really tell whether those narrow eyes were open or closed?
As if reading her thoughts, Kim Inbeom shook his head emphatically.
“No, I can’t tell that either.”
“Really? Then why do you think he’s awake?”
“The smile. There’s a smile on his lips.”
“A smile? Hunter Choi Yeon always looks like he’s smiling, doesn’t he?”
“No. Originally, Yeon sunbae’s expression is… well, not dirty— I mean— uh… expressionless? Yes. He’s expressionless.”
“Ah…?”
Expressionless?
The caregiver looked at Choi Yeon.
He was sitting there with a gentle smile, looking relaxed, as if he were having a pleasant dream.
That smiling face was supposedly so expressionless it could even seem unpleasant? She couldn’t believe it….
While she was muttering inwardly in doubt, Kim Inbeom walked over to Choi Yeon.
The children who had been surrounding him were nowhere to be seen. At some point, their interest had shifted, and without even waiting for the caregiver’s answer, they’d run off elsewhere together.
“Yeon sunbae.”
“You’re here?”
Sure enough, Choi Yeon greeted Kim Inbeom in a soft voice. His voice wasn’t groggy at all, clearly showing that he’d been awake the whole time.
Then, still smiling, he nodded slightly toward the caregiver. He had obviously heard the entire conversation.
The caregiver gave an awkward smile, said goodbye, and left. A fox-like man really does fox-like things….
“Here’s your breakfast.”
“Thanks. By the way, Inbeom, you noticed right away, didn’t you?”
“How could I not? I saw your face sleeping through skipped classes back in high school more times than I can count.”
“That face with the dirty expression.”
“……”
The corner of his quietly smiling mouth trembled slightly.
Ah, so he heard me fixing it midway. I didn’t mean ‘dirty,’ I meant ‘der—love’… maybe?
He thought of a belated joke, but didn’t have the nerve to say it out loud. It didn’t seem like it would go over well, so he swallowed it.
Seeing Kim Inbeom gulp nervously, Choi Yeon let out a soft chuckle. He gathered the bag and coffee he’d been handed and stood up.
“Shall we talk at the pavilion in the back garden?”
“At the pavilion?”
“Yes.”
“…….”
Leaving behind Kim Inbeom, whose face was stiffening, Choi Yeon walked out of the living wing.
That strange misunderstanding of his was funny.
Did he really think Choi Yeon would put him through some kind of drill at an orphanage with kids watching?
He’d never done anything like that even back when Inbeom was his student. He had no idea why the guy would think that.
“…….”
“…….”
Behind the living wing stretched a quiet garden.
Azaleas and silver grass blended softly together, and in the center, a pond breathed gently.
Beside the pond, where ripples sparkled across the surface, stood a small pavilion. A lotus pattern was carved into the ceiling, and Bible verses were engraved into the pillars.
Choi Yeon and Kim Inbeom entered the pavilion where sunlight lingered long. Two children who had been peering into the pond noticed them and burst into giggles—Choi Yeon’s narrow eyes must have fascinated them.
Clatter.
As the two sat down in the pavilion, a small stone cairn beneath one of the pillars made a sound.
A cool breeze blew from somewhere.
“Cha Jaehyuk went through the trouble of sending you here because he wanted to hear about what happened yesterday, right?”
“…Was it that obvious?”
“Rather than obvious….”
Continuing his sentence, Choi Yeon rummaged through the bag and pulled out a sandwich.
Seeing this, Kim Inbeom visibly relaxed.
Oh, so it was a misunderstanding.
“Like I said before, there’s no way the second-in-command of Nubyeok would move just for an errand.”
“…They say he’s not really a second-in-command, though.”
Yeah, right.
Choi Yeon didn’t even bother listening to Kim Inbeom’s words.
“Anyway, if he wanted to come himself, he could have. But he always sends someone else.”
“Well, the leader has unavoidable circumstances too.”
“And what are those?”
“That’s… another situation I can’t talk about. Yeah….”
“…….”
“It’s true.”
He took a big bite of the sandwich.
In truth, Choi Yeon already knew.
He didn’t know the exact reason, but at some point, Cha Jaehyuk had stopped leaving the area he’d claimed as his territory.
He could count on one hand the number of times Jaehyuk had gone out.
As far as Choi Yeon knew, he only went out in important situations—like when his girlfriend Park Jeonga traveled far away, or when he had to save children. Even during the Bihaksan incident, hadn’t Kim Inbeom tried to stop him?
On top of that, Nubyeok had expressed intentions to expand their territory several times. Each time, Battalion Commander Kim Jaesang had personally refused, and Cha Jaehyuk had calmly accepted it, saying he understood.
So why had he even asked…?
Choi Yeon finished the rest of the sandwich in one bite.
Honestly, he was curious, but if he asked, he’d probably just be told to join Nubyeok.
“So, if I tell you—”
“Oh. Is it okay?”
“Everyone’s going to find out anyway.”
“Sounds like the outcome was good.”
“Yeah, it was.”
This time, Choi Yeon picked a soboro bun.
The moment his teeth sank into it, like bite marks on a sun-baked sand dune, a nutty flavor spread through his mouth, followed by a gentle sweetness.
His stomach felt satisfyingly full.
“This time, we captured three of the five Red Blood Society executives alive, and apprehended dozens of members.”
“That’s incredible! At that level, isn’t that basically annihilation?”
“Pretty much. All that’s left is the leader, two executives, and fewer than thirty subordinates.”
“Oh….”
He didn’t add that it was what they themselves had wanted.
City Hall didn’t want this information made public, and neither did Choi Yeon.
There was nothing to gain from spreading it—only anxiety.
Kim Inbeom likely thought the same, and aside from Cha Jaehyuk, wouldn’t tell anyone.
If that was the case, it was better not to say it at all.
“Later today, the mayor will personally do a briefing. He’ll probably wrap it up by saying they’ll pursue them to the end and uproot them completely.”
“Oooh, even the Red Blood Society that survived the Dark Fragrance Society is collapsing like this.”
“…….”
“Hm? Come to think of it, among those five executives, you caught one yourself, didn’t you, sunbae?”
“…It was thanks to the barrier.”
There was also the fact that the guy had been a burden, but Choi Yeon chose not to say that.
Seeing the admiring look in Kim Inbeom’s eyes, it felt awkward to tell the truth.
“The other two were…?”
“Yes. Minseok’s party got Moon Giseop, and Hyeseok hyung—.”
Maebaeksan spewed acrid smoke as if it were a volcano.
Below, the charred steel frames of burned buildings lay tangled with black ash, and the trees that had once stood densely packed were snapped and broken.
Beneath leaves drifting through the air, still wrapped in flames, Choi Hyeseok fixed his gaze on Yoo Seojin.
Between them stood a Red Blood Society executive and ten subordinates, wedged in like obstacles.
“So we meet again, Yoo Seojin.”
“…Indeed. Not that I wanted to see you.”
“Same here.”
“Then how about we each go our separate ways…?”
“We both know that’s not possible.”
Step.
Choi Hyeseok took a single step forward.
To maintain that exact distance, the Red Blood Society retreated. But Yoo Seojin, standing at the very back, remained still.
“Yoo Seojin. Where is the leader?”
“…I don’t know. He’s extremely busy. Sometimes he just shows up out of nowhere, gives us a few things, and leaves.”
“…I see. So we won’t be finishing everything today.”
He took another step.
This time, instead of retreating, the Red Blood Society drew up their mana.
Yoo Seojin still didn’t move.
“Why was it children, of all things?”
“Ah. I already explained that to Choi Yeon. Go back and hear it from him.”
“Then the treatment method?”
“You two really are in sync, aren’t you? That too—go back and hear it.”
“…Fine.”
“Any other questions? If so, please hurry. I’m rather busy.”
“Don’t worry. This is the last question.”
“That’s good. Go ahead.”
“Do you want to live?”
Roll.
Choi Hyeseok’s eyes seemed to roll as his gaze fell upon the Red Blood Society.
Mana exploded from his body, like the blast that had destroyed Maebaeksan, threatening to completely overwhelm the mana they had already raised.
“This is… a B-rank hunter…!”
The executive at the front cried out in shock. As his emotion rippled outward, Choi Hyeseok stomped down.
It was a wave.
A raging torrent that turned the Red Blood Society’s formation into nothing more than a sandcastle.
“Hunter Choi Hyeseok…!”
As the Red Blood Society was swept away, a hazy mist poured out from beneath Yoo Seojin’s feet.
That was why he had remained standing still. Just as he’d said at Jang Taesan’s hideout, it was something he always prepared in advance.
“Then, goodbye…!”
A frog hole.
“…So that’s how it went. The executive Hyeseok hyung caught was a guy named Noh Taegun.”
“Ah, I see.”
Kim Inbeom nodded along.
Then he looked at Choi Yeon, who had fallen silent, with a strange expression.
Talking about Choi Hyeseok’s exploits, yet being this quiet—how unusual.
Wasn’t this the kind of situation where he should be making a big fuss?
“Sunbae?”
“…Inbeom.”
“Yes. I’m listening.”
“Actually, I kind of hoped that bastard would have a frog hole, you know?”
“What?”
“But he really did have one. This… isn’t because of me, right?”
“Uh, well….”
At Choi Yeon’s words, Kim Inbeom was momentarily at a loss for words.
Logically, he thought it was just a coincidence. But living this kind of life had drilled one lesson into him deeply—always watch what you say.
If you hadn’t hoped there would be a frog hole, maybe there wouldn’t have been one?
It was nonsense, something that made no sense at all—but people tended to think like fools.
For that reason, Kim Inbeom could only respond with a regretful tone.
“You should be more careful….”
“I knew it. Sigh….”
Instead of swearing, in case the children heard, Choi Yeon let out a long sigh.
Then he finished off the remaining soboro bun.
As expected, it stuck in his throat.
