CHAPTER 11
Part 2. The Healer Who Gives Without Holding Back (1)
Then I guess I should take the role of the F-rank who doesn’t listen.
But contrary to my expectations, Yoo Hanseong only let out a single sigh.
He looked at me quietly, then left me with one word.
“Later.”
“Huh?”
“Later, when you open a potion shop, contact me.”
Is that… encouragement that I’ll be able to graduate?
That doesn’t sound like something he’d say just to be nice to a kid.
Hiding my doubts, I deliberately broke into a bright, innocent grin.
“Why? Planning to become a regular customer?”
“We’ll see.”
I clicked my tongue lightly. He gave a brief nod of acknowledgment and walked past me.
That’s it? He’s really just leaving?
I stared blankly at his retreating back, then realized this was actually a useful flow for my future actions.
Immediately, I clenched my fist and chuckled to myself as if I’d been thrilled to be acknowledged. Then I shouted at Hanseong, whose back was still visible.
“Just wait! I’ll make you a regular no matter what!”
You might have been talking about after graduation, but that shop is opening soon, actually.
Yoo Hanseong didn’t respond and walked farther away.
[Kids, all of you.]
With Erich muttering another heavy sigh in the background, I turned right back toward the old school building.
The squeezing—no, special training—of Erich was about to begin.
***
It had been a coincidence.
That Yoo Hanseong had met Jin Hari and ended up having a conversation he’d never expected.
After all, he’d gone there intending to obtain the demon sword.
Jin Hari, on the other hand, seemed to have crossed paths with it by chance.
Moments like this made it feel as though no matter how hard he tried, the true owner of any item was already decided.
That aside—Jin Hari.
‘She isn’t completely free of suspicious points.’
And yet, strangely, she didn’t trigger his wariness.
Back in his dorm room, Hanseong rubbed his eyes and recalled the child who had clutched his hand earlier, trembling as she spoke nonstop in a soft, anxious voice.
He was tired.
He hadn’t even used mana, but unexpected situations always left him like this. Managing his expression while burning mental energy in a short span exhausted him.
“Jin Hari.”
This was already the second time he’d murmured her name where no one could hear.
At this point, he had no choice but to admit it.
He kept noticing Jin Hari because she reminded him of his old self.
‘Not that she’s the same as me.’
He’d known that, but once she’d grabbed his hand, it became clearer.
Jin Hari reminded him of the person he used to be—yet she was also someone entirely different.
Maybe that was why his eyes kept going to her.
After losing everything precious to reach S-rank and then returning to protect those very things, would Jin Hari make a different choice?
Recalling her surprisingly resolute voice, he found himself curious about that choice.
‘I’ve gone soft.’
It wasn’t that he’d relaxed his resolve to form an S-rank party.
Jin Hari was just… unusual.
‘She doesn’t feel like a hunter.’
More precisely, she lacked the typical aura of an awakened individual.
Even if someone failed to become a dungeon-conquering hunter, awakening alone changed a person irreversibly.
Their atmosphere shifted.
Mana flowed around their body, after all.
But Jin Hari’s presence was noticeably faint in that regard.
‘Is it because she’s F-rank?’
He’d thought that might be the case—but after today, he wondered if her personality was simply unusual.
‘Like how she has almost no sense of caution.’
Maybe that was why he’d never seen her at any point before regression.
She had the kind of personality that got someone killed quickly.
‘Still, it seems she’s made a different choice this time.’
He didn’t know what choice Jin Hari had made in the past before dying early. But he was certain this time was different.
‘She said she learned it in a dream.’
A spell that bound otherworldly beings through incantation alone.
It could be cast regardless of mana quantity, but at this point in time, he was the only one who should know it.
And Jin Hari claimed she’d learned it through a dream.
Yoo Hanseong’s expression stiffened faintly.
“She has memories?”
His voice, audible even to himself, wavered slightly.
“If so… who has them, how many, and how much do they remember?”
Why Jin Hari, of all people—rather than his former close companions?
Later, it would be revealed that this phenomenon occurred among those watched by otherworldly gods—but Hanseong didn’t know that yet.
Because he didn’t know, he had no choice but to keep an eye on Jin Hari.
Strangely, that realization eased his heart a little.
He now had a reason to watch her.
“…Ha.”
Softening over a few worried gestures.
Maybe it was because he’d run alone for so long, toward a hopeless goal, that he no longer had the strength to deny it.
He was lonely.
He wanted someone he could communicate with.
No—perhaps he simply needed warmth.
‘Even after coming this far, I still don’t change.’
Still weak. Still plagued by stray thoughts.
Yoo Hanseong smiled faintly and closed his eyes.
He’d rest briefly, then get back to work.
This time, no matter what.
He swallowed the words that never became sound—and fell asleep.
****
To the protagonist, the demon sword Erich was a burden—something like a tasteless chicken rib.
After becoming S-rank, Hanseong had never lacked mana.
Even now, while disguising himself as D-rank, one mana potion was enough if he ran short. There was no need to trade HP—or lifespan—to obtain mana.
‘He knew he couldn’t give it to the freshman representative, so he kept it—but the demon sword stressed him out quietly throughout the original story.’
If his stamina dropped, his combat endurance plummeted. Using it mid-battle was dangerous.
‘No matter how good the quality of mana it supplied.’
It wasn’t useless—but it wasn’t very useful either.
A sealed demon sword that talked nonstop even while dormant.
Eventually, when facing death, Hanseong gave in to his temptation, sacrificed all his stamina, gained mana, and escaped.
That allowed Erich to partially break its seal.
“Sealed?”
[Yes, whelp. I am sealed. If you release it, even a lowly F-rank like you could touch a transcendent existence.]
“Does that hurt? Are you in pain right now?”
When I asked with a worried face, perfectly in character as a dim child, Erich fell silent.
Then he replied coldly.
What do you take me for? Do you think such a seal could cause me pain? Insolent whelp.]
“Oh. So it doesn’t hurt. That’s a relief.”
[What do you mean, a relief—! Damn it, did you even understand what I said earlier?!
“Mm. I did.”
[Then why—!]
“I just don’t see why it has to be that way. And you said you’re not in pain.”
[Ha?!]
I muttered while acting like someone who’d shut down emotionally if pushed any harder.
“I just want to be good at making potions. That’s enough for me. I don’t want to touch a transcendent existence.”
Whatever you think you’ll gain by lying —]
“It’s true. An F-rank becoming something amazing would just draw suspicion anyway. And even if I could, there’s nothing I’d want to do with that power.”
[……Potions! You could make heavenly potions!
“Uh… that is tempting, but you don’t get it. I’m not dexterous. Even with lots of mana, I couldn’t make something that good.”
And so I went on.
Explaining, endlessly, why there was no reason to unseal him.
All day.
No—throughout the entire week, as I worked myself half-dead practicing potion-making.
[Hngh! You—this dense little brat!]
Erich finally exploded.
He started yelling strange things in anger.
[Doesn’t being treated like this make you want to kill everyone?! A brat like you should just—!]
“Huh?”
Just—snap! Get your head straight! Aaaagh!]
Watching Erich clutch his head was my small joy for the week.
After gently stroking the earring in gratitude, I replied to his suggestion that I should open an F-rank dungeon and die there with my face buried in the dirt.
“It’s okay. Being treated badly. It makes sense. I don’t get angry.”
Thanks to that—
I ended up entering only the final exam dungeon.
Exactly as planned.
