Not Quite Rest (6)
The route forming in my head tangled into a mess. Wait—am I remembering this right? Does the bus even go that way?
“Hey, calm down for a second. It’s too early for that.”
In front of my panicked eyes, Iyul pushed his phone screen toward me. It was only 2:47 PM—way too early for Mom to be getting off work.
Only then did I notice the sun still high overhead.
“Just in case, try calling her.”
I immediately dialed my mom, but the call wouldn’t connect—it kept cutting off.
—The number you are calling is not available. You will be connected to voicemail…
“She’s not picking up?”
While I stared at my phone screen and redialed, Iyul asked, voice a little stiffer than before. He seemed nervous too.
But the longer I listened to the mechanical voice, the clearer my thoughts became.
“Yeah. But… around this time, she’s usually busy. I can rarely reach her in the afternoon.”
When I took a breath and thought it through calmly, the likelihood of my mom getting caught up in a gate in broad daylight was practically zero.
At least four hours had to pass before she’d even step out of the building.
“She’ll be fine.”
Iyul tapped my shoulder a couple of times as if reassuring me.
“Yeah. I’ll just text her.”
I sent my mom a message and shoved the phone back into my pocket.
She’ll be fine… right.
Awkward as it was, Iyul’s attempt at comforting me actually helped. I managed to pull myself together because someone was right beside me, grounding me.
“Should we go check the area? There might be something. We came to look for clues anyway.”
Iyul stretched his arms backward like he was warming up. His casual attitude helped me stay calm too.
“Yeah. Let’s look around.”
We couldn’t suddenly ask for help from Transcendence and enter the gate, but we could at least observe the situation.
I took the lead, guiding him toward the intersection near XX Bank, where the gate supposedly appeared.
The new gate didn’t look particularly special. Around the ominous black void, people—likely from the Association—were controlling the area.
—Hunters are currently inside clearing the gate. Please remain calm and return home.
—This area is dangerous. Please avoid approaching and follow the Association’s instructions.
—The gate is being cleared smoothly. Please use alternate routes until the operation is complete.
A looping announcement echoed through the street. People in matching armbands were blocking curious civilians, pushing them back.
“Please step back.”
“Don’t cross the line!”
“Just wanna look for a second!”
“It’s dangerous if you get any closer!”
Arguments continued nonstop.
Gates opening wasn’t earth-shattering anymore, but civilians still found them fascinating. They couldn’t grasp how dangerous the inside was until they experienced it.
Because gate control and management were solid, curiosity outweighed fear. Same old routine.
If just one monster slips out, though, chaos will erupt.
But accidents like that were rare.
“Doesn’t seem out of the ordinary, right?”
“Yeah. We won’t know until they come out, but so far nothing looks unusual.”
Even from this close, none of the Association members showed signs of infection. Hunters were already inside—if something had happened, it should’ve been obvious by now.
According to the timeline I knew, it was still early. I expected to see small signs—contamination, black residue—but there was nothing. No proof.
“Should I go in?”
We watched behind the barricade. As I leaned against the wall and drifted into thought, Iyul uncrossed his arms and stepped forward.
“No. If something happens, we’ll know.”
He definitely could enter—alone. But standing out here would be unnecessary attention. The name Wind alone would pull eyes nationwide.
Someone who normally stayed hidden, suddenly appearing in a small local gate after recently skyrocketing in fame for saving civilians? Suspicious.
“What about your mom? No reply?”
“Yeah. Nothing.”
It hadn’t even been an hour, but still—no response. I wanted to barge in and check for myself, but I knew how messy and wasteful that would be.
The chance that Mom was caught up in it was extremely low. But if we entered and exposed Wind and the guild name, everything would snowball into something complicated.
“No civilians got swept in, right?”
Even just confirming that would ease my mind.
Gate detection meant early area control, but we’d heard manpower outside Seoul was thin…
“If a civilian got pulled in, they’d already be in chaos.”
“…Right.”
The Association’s biggest nightmare was civilian casualties—they took full responsibility for them. If something had happened, people would be running around screaming.
We watched a little longer. Nothing changed. No point staying.
Just one phone call would make me feel so much better…
Still no sign of a reply.
Current Hunter Ranking (subjective)
Rankings these days don’t matter. Anything below #1 is just…
We wandered around without direction and eventually returned home, but I couldn’t relax.
Because Mom still wasn’t answering.
We checked local news, forums—nothing. The news kept repeating the same line: gate under control. Even online boards, normally overflowing with gossip, were quiet.
Just a minor gate outside the metro area—no big headlines.
“I’m going out.”
“Where? If you’re going into the gate, I will.”
“No. I’m just going to go near her office.”
Just to meet her halfway.
—At the XX intersection near XX Bank, the gate has been cleared and hunters are exiting. The operation included top-ranked hunter Min Ha-jun—
While I was tying my shoes, the anchor’s voice caught my ear.
Min Ha-jun?
No way. I turned back toward the TV.
A man in a cap was moving through the crowd.
“That’s Min Ha-jun? Why is he here?”
Exactly what I wanted to say.
Under the cap, I thought I saw snowy-white hair.
—No casualties have been reported. The Association states the clear time was delayed due to—
The news droned on. Resident inconvenience, Association response, blah blah. None of that mattered.
“They said no casualties.”
No civilians swept in, no mention of contamination.
“That dude—what the hell is he doing here? Is he scamming or something?”
Iyul, relieved by the broadcast, switched to complaining.
“He should be in Seoul. Why here, of all places?”
“I told him.”
“You told Min Ha-jun? About coming here?”
“Yeah. He wanted us to run a gate together, and I said I was busy.”
Iyul’s face twisted.
“Why’d you tell him that?”
“I just said I was going back home. Didn’t think it needed to be secret.”
“…Don’t tell me he followed you here.”
“He probably just had business.”
“Right. Even if he’s unhinged, he’s not that unhinged.”
“Let’s confirm. If it’s really him, we need to ask some things.”
I pulled out my phone. Still no reply from Mom.
Still nothing.
Even after her shift ended. Why wasn’t she answering? What was keeping her? Maybe I was being paranoid—but in this world, paranoia was rational.
I shook my head and called Min Ha-jun. I wanted certainty—from someone who had just been inside the gate.
The call rang several times before connecting.
—Hello?
He sounded surprisingly cheerful.
“It’s me. Is that really you on the news?”
—The news?
“The XX Bank gate.”
—……
He went silent—probably checking. I heard crowd noise, then a faint groan.
—Ugh… I explicitly asked them to keep it quiet…
“So it is you?”
—Yeah. I told the Association to keep it confidential, but I guess it leaked. If it’s on the news, then…
On the screen, Min Ha-jun shoved his hat lower and held something in one hand, clearly trying to hide his face.
“Sorry, I know you’re busy. I need to ask something urgent.”
He must have sensed the tension in my voice, because his tone changed immediately.
—Go ahead.
“The news says no injuries or deaths. Is that true? No civilians were swept in?”
—No one got hurt. I got there early, and the gate wasn’t high-ranked. But civilians…
He trailed off.
