Dojun sat down across from Hanul, who was smiling prettily, and asked.
“So how far did you look into it?”
If this had only been the second memory loss, Dojun would have played along with Hanul’s act to some degree.
He thinks I look useful, so he’s decided to play coy — and dealing with a Hanul who at least keeps up the pretense of being polite, even if it’s all fake, is easier than dealing with his personality in its raw form.
But unfortunately, after the third memory loss ended, the two of them had gone public with their relationship.
It wasn’t as though Dojun had confiscated his phone — there was no way Hanul, having noticed something was wrong with his memory, would have sat around not looking anything up.
If he knows we’re dating…
Inside that little head of his, Dojun had surely already been slotted into the role of a highly capable subordinate.
In other words, right now Hanul wasn’t trying to be nice to him to win his heart — he was in the middle of trying to maneuver someone whose heart he’d already won into doing whatever he wanted.
“Whatever you found, it’s going to be different from what you’re imagining.”
Since Hanul was treating Dojun as a partner — not in a good sense, more like someone who’d fallen for him and was easy to use — there was no particular need for Dojun to be formal with him either.
He was older by a year, too.
At Dojun’s dry, indifferent attitude, Hanul slowly blinked.
“I heard we’re in a relationship.”
With the troubled expression and the precise angle of his head tilting to one side — every detail thoroughly calculated to project a certain image — Hanul hesitated and asked.
“Ah… have we broken up, perhaps?”
At that question, some lingering attachment Dojun hadn’t been able to throw away gave a small flinch — but he wasn’t foolish enough to do something stupid twice.
Dojun answered without giving any impression that he’d hesitated.
“It’s not that.”
“Then we were never actually dating in the first place?”
Meaning: was there some reason they had been pretending to date.
How very like him.
If things hadn’t turned out the way they had between them, Hanul probably would have had no qualms about going through with a fake relationship if it served his purposes.
Though with that damned germophobia of his, he wouldn’t have been able to pull off anything that resembled an actual relationship.
“We started dating because we both liked each other — that part’s accurate. And it’s not some arrangement where you’ve been using me.”
Dojun laid out the truth before anything more infuriating could come out of Hanul’s mouth.
“I know your real personality more than well enough, so no matter how much you perform, you won’t be able to manipulate me.”
He added the advice that if there was something Hanul wanted to know or something he wanted, he should just say it outright — and then Dojun circled back to his original question.
“So exactly how far have you looked into things? If there’s something you’re curious about, ask.”
But Hanul wasn’t the type to take someone at their word — and so he didn’t shed his pretense in a single moment just because Dojun had said so.
Hanul, without so much as a blink, smiled on with perfect composure, as if he hadn’t heard a thing.
Even so, he didn’t let the opportunity to extract information slip by.
“Everyone takes my condition as a matter of course — why was the aftereffect disclosed publicly instead of being kept hidden?”
Right. That would’ve been what bothered Hanul most.
He would have hated having his weakness exposed to everyone.
“You receive a lot of public attention and you go on Dungeon clears frequently — there’s no way to hide it perfectly. You said it yourself: rather than making it worse by trying to conceal it, it was better to come clean and use it however it could be used.”
“Is that so? It seems like it would increase the risk of being taken advantage of in return.”
“Are you the type to let yourself get played?”
And that, from someone who was suspicious even of the person publicly known to be his partner.
Even now, Hanul was asking Dojun this question while perfectly capable of figuring out for himself why he had made that choice.
To confirm whether Dojun was telling the truth — whether Dojun could be trusted.
Having read Hanul’s intent without difficulty, Dojun continued calmly.
“There’s no one who doesn’t know that crossing you would mean making an enemy of our entire guild.”
“The guild.”
For the first time, the smile disappeared from Hanul’s face.
But Dojun had no trouble spotting the satisfaction drifting behind those bright eyes.
He had a hunger for power — and owning a major guild clearly pleased him greatly. He’d probably spent the most time of anyone looking into just how useful this guild was, even during the time he’d been away.
Cute.
Dojun’s gaze lingered briefly on the faint upturn of Hanul’s lips — and then Hanul, who had already armored his expression again, asked.
“I see that I hold the position of vice-representative at Seonmyeong Guild — is it all right for me to hold that post in a situation like this?”
People who didn’t know better might think Hanul was worried about the guild — but the truth was that he was dissatisfied with only being the vice-representative.
Just a handful of news articles would be more than enough for him to realize that the real owner of this place was himself.
Dojun returned an answer that matched not Hanul’s fabricated question, but his actual inner thoughts.
“It’s more convenient in many ways for your younger brother to hold the representative position. Besides, there’s no one who doesn’t know you’re the one pulling the strings behind your brother. If you were sitting in the representative’s seat, there’d always be someone trying to find fault using your memory loss as ammunition — so even just for appearances, it’s better to have your brother as the representative.”
Hanul fluttered his long lashes and stared at Dojun intently. When Dojun didn’t look away, Hanul spoke in a quiet, measured tone.
“Dojun is listed as the overall team leader of Seonmyeong’s Dungeon clearing team.”
This was asking why it was Hanul’s younger brother — and not his partner, Dojun — who had become the representative.
Even from the name alone, it was obvious this guild belonged to Seon Hanul and Myeong Dojun.
Since Hanul loved money, prestige, and power, his underlying suspicion was quietly surfacing: if Dojun truly loved him, then in a situation where Hanul couldn’t take the representative seat due to his aftereffect, he would have handed the position to his partner — not his younger brother.
Hanul did care about his family, so he valued his brother more than he would a stranger — but that didn’t mean Hanul doted on his brother. In reality, he consistently prioritized his partner over his sibling.
So Hanul’s doubt had its own logic.
But as for the representative seat — that was something Dojun wanted no part of.
“A position with that much responsibility is a hassle. And moving my body suits me better than weighing everything from every angle.”
Being a high-ranked Awakened, and not being unfortunate-looking on top of that, meant he already received more attention than he wanted — he had no desire to take on even more than that.
If not for Hanul, Dojun wouldn’t have created a guild — he’d have been affiliated with the Hunter Association and living a considerably quieter life.
Whatever else might have changed, he certainly wouldn’t have had a relationship this loudly known to the entire world.
“More than anything, the clearing team is where our guild’s core talent is concentrated — so it’s better for me to manage it than you, who frequently loses your memory.”
Going by title alone, the representative position might look more prestigious than the clearing team leader — but the guild’s primary function was clearing Dungeons, which made the Dungeon clearing team unquestionably the heart of Seonmyeong.
So it wasn’t strange at all for Dojun, the strongest hunter in Seonmyeong, to be in charge of the clearing team.
Having once again returned an answer that fit exactly what Hanul was getting at, Dojun checked the time.
By now, even if Hanul hadn’t fully let go of his suspicions, he had at least gained the certainty that Dojun was someone close enough to see through what he was actually thinking.
Not that he’s the type to open up in one go anyway.
Dojun, exhausted from not having properly rested since stopping the Dungeon break, rubbed the back of his stiff neck and began gathering his things.
“Let’s talk about the rest at home. Once you see the place we live in together, it’ll probably be easier for you to accept the situation.”
“…We live together?”
They already knew they were in a relationship — that information would naturally have come along with it.
Dojun watched with flat disinterest as Hanul put on a ridiculously exaggerated look of surprise, as if he were only hearing this for the first time.
It’s obvious what he’s worried about.
Hanul without his memories always returned to February of his twenty-first year — before he’d ever met Dojun.
And back then, Hanul’s germophobia had been at its peak, worn down by the stress of Dungeon life, where keeping clean was nearly impossible.
Unlike Dojun, who became a hunter at twenty-two, Hanul had been living as a hunter since he was nineteen — so it wasn’t incomprehensible that his hypersensitivity had eventually reached a breaking point.
“Should I arrange a separate place for you to stay?”
“No, I couldn’t ask something like that of you.”
With the sole exception of one instance, Hanul had always suppressed his own germophobia and chosen to live together in order to keep an eye on Dojun — so this was a predictable answer.
Which meant Dojun could also easily guess what request was coming next.
“Just so you know — don’t worry about physical contact.”
What would it mean to live together with someone defined as your partner?
And Dojun had said the two of them were dating because they genuinely liked each other.
But there was no way Hanul, without his memories and with his germophobia at its worst, could bring himself to accept anything resembling a partner’s behavior.
“It’s not like we had a platonic relationship.”
Thinking back on nights that the Hanul in front of him couldn’t begin to imagine, Dojun gave a light shrug toward his expressionless partner.
“But if I so much as hold your hand while you’ve lost your memory, you throw a fit once you get it back.”
This was just the kind of fate you accepted when your partner had severe germophobia and was even jealous of his own past self.
Dojun let out a quiet smile toward Hanul, who was watching him with an unreadable look.
“So you can relax.”
