Chapter 89
“Seriously, it’s just hiring a healer. I don’t get why you’re so against it. We’re short on healers as it is.”
“I agree. Ji-wook, what’s got you so worried?”
With the vice guild master on his left and Sung Mi-ju on his right, Sung Ji-wook was, to put it bluntly, being grilled.
The vice guild master was a big name—awakened in his fifties, participated in the Ragnarok subjugation, then retired from field work and temporarily served as vice guild master. He was even close with Nike’s former guild master.
No one called him by his real name. People just called him “Vice Guild Master” or “Teacher.” Even Jung Hwan-jae claimed he didn’t know the man’s true identity.
“…I just don’t like it.”
“‘Just because’ isn’t an explanation. Speak properly.”
His warm accent made him sound friendly. For some reason, hearing his voice always softened people up inside.
He was a natural with people—so much so that it took Jung Hwan-jae a full year of persuasion before he finally accepted the vice guild master position.
Listening to Ji-wook’s nonsense, Sung Mi-ju—now clearly annoyed—smacked the back of his head with a loud whack.
“Ow!”
“What are you even going to do by opposing it? What’s going to change because you don’t like it?”
She wasn’t wrong.
Even if he opposed it, nothing would change. The guild master already agreed. The authority to recruit someone belonged to the guild master, not him.
“But this healer! She makes people faint when she sings—A-rank hunters, at that! What if she knocks everyone out?”
“Does the guild master look like an A-rank to you?”
“No, but it’s not like she’ll only ever be in dungeons alone with the guild master! Even if we only bring A-rank and above, what are we supposed to say when guild members faint? ‘Sorry, you’re not high-ranked enough’? Really?!”
Jung Hwan-jae normally respected Sung Ji-wook’s opinions.
Ji-wook and Mi-ju awakened on the same day—during Mi-ju’s high school entrance ceremony—when a dungeon erupted. He remembered vividly how Mi-ju had vanished deep inside the never-ending dungeon on that terrifying day.
Everyone assumed Mi-ju was dead. Everyone except Ji-wook, who awakened and immediately demanded one thing from the Association officer:
“Give me any skill that lets me find my sister. Anything.”
Of course, Mi-ju was actually slaughtering monsters deep inside the dungeon—like some Venus flytrap of death—but that day left a huge trauma on Ji-wook.
Ever since then, he preferred being under the watch of someone stronger, in a safe place where he could see everything around him. His base personality was already overly cautious, and the event made it worse.
“The guild master will handle it. Why, did you brush past that woman in the past?”
“No. I don’t know her.”
“Then why are you against it!”
Another loud SMACK to the back of his head.
Ji-wook ranked higher than Mi-ju, but the strength gap between an offensive-type hunter and a healer was massive. Something in his skull definitely cracked this time.
“Stop it! My head’s gonna explode!”
“Then heal yourself. Sometimes you act so annoyingly dense I don’t know what to do with you.”
“He must have his own reasons. He’s got more to worry about these days ’cause of you, Mi-ju.”
“Teacher!”
The vice guild master laughed.
Ji-wook glared at Mi-ju while holding his head. When she hissed, “Are you not gonna lower your eyes?” he quickly dropped his gaze.
Honestly, even if he opposed it, Jung Hwan-jae would push forward.
As soon as he heard rumors about Yeom Ye-ah—the worst healer who knocks people out with singing—he immediately said he wanted to interview her.
Ji-wook thought it was insane.
She already bombed the interview. Why go see her personally?
This wasn’t some small-time guild.
If they hired her, word would spread instantly.
And it was obvious she had zero real combat experience.
But even after Ji-wook said all that, Jung Hwan-jae even brought in Kim Hwa-hyun—who was basically doing dungeon runs only for pocket money—to persuade him.
“The guild master spoiled you too much. It’s not like he’s firing you for her.”
“I know! I know. At this point, I can’t even oppose…”
He could already see Jung Hwan-jae’s sad face if he kept pushing.
And the moment he saw that expression, he knew—even if Ji-wook complained, Yeom Ye-ah would still be hired. His stubbornness was just pride.
They were nobodies when they first joined, and yet the guild master took them in. Even if the guild had been small back then, that trust hadn’t changed.
If Ji-wook’s instincts about danger weren’t screaming at him, he wouldn’t have objected.
“Did our Ji-wook awaken a future-vision skill, maybe?”
“Don’t tease me…”
The vice guild master, satisfied that the argument was settled, handed them expensive chocolates and sent them out.
Walking down the hallway, Mi-ju suddenly spoke:
“You seriously didn’t know anything? You just opposed her because of a feeling? Tell me.”
“No, just… something feels off.”
“What kind of feeling.”
Ji-wook stared at the papers he brought out of the room.
Yeom Ye-ah’s résumé. Not as detailed as the guild master’s file, but healers could read between the lines.
He lowered his voice, sounding ominous.
“If this woman joins… something massive is going to happen.”
Another WHACK echoed through the hallway.
This time, Ji-wook genuinely believed his skull had cracked.
* * *
“You were right that something massive happened—but I’ll admit it was necessary. The guild master was right. Fine. If we recruit this flame-zone hunter too, things will improve. I surrender.”
“Because your worries were right, too.”
Ji-wook leaned against the wall and stared at the vice guild master’s office.
The old man was probably soothing Flame-Zone with his gentle voice, getting him to sign the contract.
He’d probably skip the “test dungeon run” requirement, too—talking his way right past it.
After thinking for a moment, Ji-wook turned to Jung Hwan-jae.
“But hyung, I still want to know. Why did you push so hard for Ye-ah back then? I know she turned out amazing. I know your instincts were right.”
“What do you mean why?”
“I mean—she’s a singer healer who knocks people out with her voice. Why hire someone like that? And you were fixated on her.”
Ah, Jung Hwan-jae let out a deep breath.
Everyone knew he was hiding something. Some personal weakness, something big.
He was probably thinking of how to dodge the question now.
No one in the guild asked about it—Ji-wook included. If the guild master wanted to talk someday, he would. Until then, no one pried. Hunters respected that boundary.
“Singing and affecting people nearby means she releases magic subconsciously.”
“Right. More like she can’t control it. Her mana’s unstable and just shoots everywhere.”
“And she said she was tone-deaf before awakening—but it got worse afterward.”
Ji-wook nodded. That was part of why he was worried.
Knocking out an A-rank means breaking through their mental barrier. That meant her magic penetrates people’s bodies without her noticing.
She couldn’t control her mana.
She probably didn’t even realize it flowed like that.
Too dangerous.
“That’s why.”
“…Sorry, but that doesn’t explain anything.”
“She can inject mana into someone without knowing, and she’s a healer. I thought I’d never see someone like that again.”
His voice was gentle, but to Ji-wook, everything sounded like a riddle.
But he couldn’t ask more. He blinked, then quietly nodded.
“So you wanted to make sure she turned into someone who would never disappear again?”
“…What?”
Ji-wook’s tone was sharp.
For the first time, Jung Hwan-jae looked startled. Ji-wook turned away and started walking.
“Forget it. So much for our ‘romance-free zone.’ One-Time is doomed.”
“Ji-wook, what does that mean?”
“I said forget it.”
“Ji-wook? Where are you going? Ji-wook??”
