Chapter 10
“Someone spoke.”
The voice was quiet, but it clearly wasn’t Cha Seohae—or Childeuk.
“They could’ve just identified themselves.”
Association personnel, maybe?
The thought made me scoff, and I shook my head.
“Do Joo-yeon just went through that, and they’d show up already?”
I’d heard about the car accident afterward from Cha Seohae. Do Joo-yeon had fled.
“It was a serious accident. There’s no way she came out of it unscathed.”
If the Association president had any sense at all, they wouldn’t dispatch someone immediately. No—more accurately, they couldn’t. One of their most trusted hunters had just returned injured; how could they afford to send someone else right away?
“Unless they carefully planned it and sent another S-rank…”
Even as I ran through possibilities, the outside remained eerily quiet.
That was when the intercom beside the door caught my eye.
If they didn’t say anything soon, I’d report it. Just as I reached for the receiver—
“I’ve brought your meal.”
This time, the voice was clear.
I turned toward the door.
“Who is it?”
“Meal delivery.”
I figured it would be safer to make a call after all. As I skimmed through the contact list, I paused.
“Should I use Blessing and check it myself?”
If it was someone from the Association—or anyone suspicious—the attack would bounce off. And if Childeuk had simply sent someone, I could just take the food.
Not a bad idea.
I activated the Divine Blessing skill without hesitation.
Cha Seohae quietly opened his eyes.
The familiar ceiling told him he was on the 45th floor.
Rustle.
As he turned onto his side, the blankets shifted softly.
“…Did I fall asleep?”
Still groggy, his head moved sluggishly. Instead of the clock, his gaze drifted toward the dark sky beyond the window.
A long time had passed. He had clearly entered his office in the afternoon, yet now it was deep into the night.
“I was drafting a contract with the healer…”
Strangely, after receiving the healing, his memory simply cut off—as if a reel of film had been severed.
Falling asleep in the middle of a contract made no sense. Yet his body felt completely refreshed.
He raised an arm over his eyes, letting out a dry, incredulous laugh.
“This is ridiculous.”
When was the last time he’d relied on sleeping pills? A week ago?
That meant it had been quite a while since he’d had proper rest.
Even the medication had begun to lose its effect as his tolerance built. The fact that he’d started dreaming again was proof enough.
Whenever his body tried to rest, memories of that day resurfaced.
Since developing insomnia, his body had never felt this light.
“The healer’s the culprit.”
The only unusual variable had been receiving healing during the contract process.
The moment that near-golden light touched him, the tension coiled within his body had melted away.
Cha Seohae checked the time. By his estimation, he had slept at least three hours.
“I had business with the April Guild…”
He’d definitely get an earful for this.
At the thought of the unexpected cancellation, he let out a short sigh.
Even if he clashed with the Association, guild relations had to remain intact. Making more enemies would only bring disadvantages.
Pushing himself up, he prepared to clean up the situation.
“She didn’t look particularly strong, but she’s impressive.”
As he walked from the bed to his desk, Moon Yeonhee’s image surfaced in his mind.
The first thing he recalled was the small hand she’d extended, offering to heal him.
Then, her slender arms.
“Childeuk must’ve done it.”
No matter how little he cared, being carried and laid onto a bed by a woman would’ve been… undignified.
Running a hand through his slightly disheveled hair, he sifted through the documents.
“Ah, here it is.”
The contract he’d given to the healer came into view.
It wasn’t what he’d been searching for, but since the contract also needed to be finalized, he picked it up and read through it.
“…Hah.”
His eyes skimmed past the printed text until they reached the final page.
The special clauses she had confidently demanded.
- ‘Moon Yeonhee,’ as the ‘Healer’ of Baekyang Guild, shall faithfully fulfill her duties. ‘Cha Seohae,’ Guild Master of Baekyang Guild, shall prioritize ‘Moon Yeonhee’s’ safety above all else.
- Upon becoming the ‘Healer’ of Baekyang Guild, ‘Moon Yeonhee’ shall be treated in accordance with labor laws.
They were surprisingly meticulous—focused on her safety and authority.
“I thought she’d demand something grand when she mentioned special clauses. And this is all she wants?”
He found her ambition smaller than expected.
He’d assumed she’d ask for higher pay—or perhaps assistance with revenge.
And then, the last clause.
The handwriting was slightly crooked, as if it had been added in haste—revealing the urgency of the moment.
(Important)
3. ‘Moon Yeonhee’ shall take responsibility for ‘Cha Seohae’s’ insufficient sleep, and ‘Cha Seohae’ shall never transfer ‘Moon Yeonhee’ to another party.
Even the asterisks bracketing it.
“She’s written contracts before, hasn’t she?”
Seeing that last clause, he finally let out a quiet, breathy laugh.
After carefully checking for any additional terms, Cha Seohae picked up the seal.
Everything she’d written was reasonable—almost obvious.
The moment he experienced her healing, he knew instinctively: this was an ability he could never afford to lose.
“That power could never come from a mere B-rank.”
He still vividly remembered the way her eyes had lit up when she saw Do Joo-yeon. But delaying the contract over something like that would’ve been foolish.
To begin with, Baekyang Guild had no real right to refuse. The healer position was vacant—he intended to secure her at any cost.
“We’ll need to arrange a reassessment.”
At a glance, she wasn’t B-rank.
And faintly… he doubted she was even A-rank.
Cha Seohae frequently received treatment from A-rank healers. In a world governed by strength, it was only natural to be treated according to rank.
He was among South Korea’s top-tier hunters. If urgent treatment was required, the Association was obligated to assign him an A-rank healer.
The Association president’s personal dislike of him was irrelevant. Orders to protect national assets couldn’t simply be ignored.
A-rank healing always felt painfully slow—though it made sense, given they were adjusting the condition of an S-rank.
But Moon Yeonhee’s healing was different.
The moment he held her hand, a refreshing energy spread through his body—full, complete. It was enough to make his mind go blank.
Even the persistent ache in his arm since the accident had vanished instantly.
Still, he held back from fully believing what he’d witnessed—her self-healing at the scene.
An S-rank healer?
If that were true, the Association would never have left her alone.
But now that he had experienced it firsthand…
“…I can’t deny it anymore.”
Just thinking about receiving it again made his mouth run dry.
“How did she end up dropping all the way to B-rank?”
He furrowed his brow, then abandoned the thought.
That wasn’t what mattered.
Pressing the bell on the edge of his desk—
Knock, knock.
“Childeuk reporting!”
Childeuk entered, swallowing nervously.
“D-did you sleep well?”
“Why are you so tense?”
“M-me?”
“You’re making it sound like I usually scare you into working.”
A crooked smile lifted one corner of Cha Seohae’s lips.
Cold sweat streamed down Childeuk’s back.
You do!
The scream remained silent.
“Since the scheduled meeting was canceled, send Yoon Jooha an orchid she likes. And reschedule.”
“Ah, well…”
At Childeuk’s hesitation, Cha Seohae set down the document he’d been reading.
“The meeting with the April Guild was handled by Han Seongwoo.”
“Han Seongwoo?”
Cha Seohae frowned.
“What’s he doing here?”
“It seems the rumor about you taking a hostage reached him.”
“Fast, isn’t it.”
He didn’t need to ask who had such a loose tongue.
His narrowed gaze fell on Childeuk.
Cold sweat poured even harder.
Eventually, unable to withstand it, Childeuk confessed.
“I thought the next schedule was important, so I asked him to step in…”
“I don’t recall giving you that authority.”
“…My apologies.”
Childeuk bowed deeply—dropping to his knees.
“….”
But unlike usual, Cha Seohae said nothing.
The silence stretched, gnawing at him.
“You know you use that trick too often, right?”
“…Pardon?”
“I never told you to raise your head.”
“Y-yes, sir!”
Childeuk felt wronged.
His superior had ordered never to wake him under any circumstances—and he had simply obeyed.
Do you know how hard it was to move that heavy, battle-trained body?!
He’d even tucked him in, hoping he’d rest properly!
His shoulders trembled with suppressed frustration.
But it was useless.
Cha Seohae wasn’t even looking at him.
“…Wait. The master is sleeping?”
“Yes, sir!”
“…Fine. Leave him be. Tell me the next schedule.”
“The next schedule is meeting the April Guild master.”
“Damn it. Only the worst ones left. Did he take sleeping pills on purpose? I don’t want to deal with that bastard.”
“No, sir. He was speaking with Miss Yeonhee, and then he fell asleep… Ah.”
“Yeonhee?”
Childeuk realized too late—he had misspoken.
It would’ve come out eventually anyway…
He admitted his mistake, but still felt unfairly blamed.
“Well done.”
“…Pardon?”
“I didn’t want to see his face anyway. That guy’s way too slick for his own good.”
Cha Seohae grimaced.
Watching him, Childeuk thought:
You’re not much better.
Behind his sunglasses, he narrowed his eyes.
Then something from earlier came to mind.
“Master, there’s a message.”
“From whom?”
“Miss Yeonhee.”
“…Yeonhee?”
Cha Seohae’s eyebrow twitched ever so slightly.
Catching the subtle reaction, Childeuk tilted his head.
“She asked me to tell you: once you wake up, please come see her. And also… that she didn’t do anything wrong.”
“….”
“That’s what she said.”
Cha Seohae absently traced the edge of the document.
To an outsider, it looked like he was reading—but Childeuk knew better. Not once had he actually turned the page.
“Childeuk.”
“Yes?”
“Want to try slipping her name in casually again?”
“If there’s a message to deliver, I will ensure her safety—”
“You did that on purpose.”
“…My apologies.”
Thud.
The document hit the desk.
As Cha Seohae approached, Childeuk trembled.
“Let’s go.”
“P-please spare—! Huh? W-where to?”
Clicking his tongue, Cha Seohae glanced at him.
“Where else?”
“….”
“She told me to come.”
With that, he strode out of the room without another word.
Childeuk blinked, then sighed.
“…Since when did you go just because someone told you to, Master?”
