Lim Yeonhwa, vice-representative of Songhwa Guild, was waiting for the person who had been dominating every headline lately.
Seon Hanul.
Vice-representative of Seonmyeong Guild, and a Black Rank hunter suffering from a chronic Dungeon aftereffect.
With the news that Hanul’s memory loss had relapsed, the media had been running story after story about him in an endless loop.
He’s apparently handling guild work, but when is he coming back as a hunter?
It’s not like he’s really doing the work himself — isn’t it just the people under him doing all the running around?
Can’t even a Black Rank hunter do anything about a Dungeon aftereffect, or is Seon Hanul just weak for a Black Rank?
What’s going to happen to poor Myeong Dojun, and so on.
There were probably some people genuinely concerned — but most simply wanted to wag their tongues over a prominent hunter’s misfortune.
“It was something he had no choice but to disclose, but even so…”
At twenty-two, when Hanul experienced memory loss for the first time, he made the fact public.
He already received an enormous amount of public attention, which made hiding the memory loss difficult — and more than anything, he had been an active hunter who cleared Dungeons frequently.
A Dungeon was not an easy place even for hunters, and hunters always entered with the resolve that they might lose their life.
Because of that, the established principle among hunters was to communicate their physical condition clearly to those around them — not just for their teammates, but for their own survival.
There were hunters who hid the Dungeon aftereffects they were suffering from, not wanting to create a weakness for themselves — but Hanul, who had no memory whatsoever of the teammates he entered Dungeons with, couldn’t have made that choice.
“If it had been an aftereffect that disappeared after a year or two at most, things would have been different.”
In that case, only those at the top would have shared the information, and he would have gone on leave — but for Hanul, who now carried a permanent aftereffect, only two options remained.
Retire, or come clean.
But in reality, Hanul’s retirement was out of the question.
When the aftereffect manifested, Hanul reverted to his twenty-one-year-old self — and he had been active as a hunter since nineteen, already one of the strongest Black Rank hunters in Korea even at twenty-one.
He was missing a portion of his memories, yes — but the hunter world was not accommodating enough to let someone of exceptional ability sit idle.
“It would have been easier if he’d been Red Rank at least.”
Hunter ranks went in order from Black, Red, Blue, Yellow, and White — with clear differences in ability between each rank, and the higher the rank, the more sharply the number of hunters dropped.
Which was why no one would welcome the retirement of a Black Rank hunter, of whom there were only nine in all of Korea.
In the end, because Seon Hanul was a Black Rank hunter, he had been forced to expose his own weakness to the world with no way out.
“I couldn’t live like that.”
It was genuinely a terrible thing to imagine.
You wake up as you normally would — and years have already passed, and every person in the world knows you’ve lost your memory.
How could you bring yourself to go outside, let alone feel safe?
And how would you trust the people who approached you?
Even as a Black Rank hunter, you’d be in a state where the people around you could do any manner of terrible things if they put their minds to it.
In that sense, she had genuine respect for Seon Hanul, who had been enduring a situation like this for years.
“Ah, here they are.”
Knock knock.
She had given word to let them in without announcement, so the guest opened the conference room door and walked straight in.
The guest had arrived precisely on time, and Lim Yeonhwa rose from her seat.
“Hunter Seon Hanul.”
The striking beauty — more dazzling than any celebrity — smiled a picture-perfect smile and greeted her.
“It’s been a while, Hunter Lim Yeonhwa.”
Lim Yeonhwa had reflexively glanced at the empty space behind Hanul — but as the door closed, she gestured toward a seat.
“It must have been a sudden request on our part. Thank you for coming so promptly.”
“It’s Songhwa Guild, of all places. And given the help we received from you a month ago — of course I had to come.”
The smile on his face was natural. His voice didn’t waver even as he spoke of a month ago that he had no memory of.
Knowing that there was a gap in his memory, it would be understandable to feel uneasy or ill at ease — but Hanul was always this composed and unbothered.
Twenty-five wasn’t an old age by any means, but Hanul’s mental age right now was twenty-one — how was he managing this?
…Whatever the case, this is part of why I find it slightly unsettling.
Watching him run a large guild he had no memory of founding at twenty-one, swiftly absorbing the years he had forgotten and living out the present without difficulty — it stirred a faint, involuntary discomfort in her.
She knew it was wrong to feel this way toward someone enduring such a difficult time — but she couldn’t help it, because it was clear that the reputation the world knew, and the face that looked as if it had gathered every bright and pristine thing in existence, weren’t the full picture.
Fortunately, that discomfort faded quickly whenever she saw Hanul alongside one particular person.
Knock knock.
Lim Yeonhwa, who had caught the approaching footsteps, looked toward the opening door with a pleased expression.
“Hunter Myeong Dojun!”
He hadn’t been behind Hanul, so she’d half-wondered if he hadn’t come today — but of course the thread follows the needle wherever it goes.
“My apologies, I’m a little late.”
“Please don’t apologize. We’re the ones who called you here on short notice.”
As she’d said before, this meeting had come about entirely at Songhwa Guild’s one-sided request. It was rude enough that they’d have every right to take offense — so the fact that Seonmyeong Guild had willingly agreed to this negotiation was something she couldn’t be grateful enough for.
“I know things have come up for you recently — but this particular Dungeon seems to be the best match for Hunter Seon Hanul’s abilities.”
Hanul, who had pulled out a chair and gestured for Dojun to sit beside him, nodded understandingly.
“Yes, I looked into it and it does seem that way.”
In truth, she had originally intended to request help from somewhere other than Seonmyeong if at all possible.
Seonmyeong Guild had become Korea’s top guild over the past few years, and there was no doubting Hanul and Dojun’s abilities — but Hanul hadn’t even been a full week into his memory loss.
She had heard that Hanul had stopped a Dungeon break on the very first day he lost his memory — but she had felt it was only right to give them time until Seonmyeong officially reinstated Hanul’s Dungeon activity.
However, with the survival of the hunters who had entered the Dungeon first now uncertain, she had reached out to Seonmyeong Guild — where Hanul, who had both a high survival rate and exceptional compatibility with this Dungeon, happened to be.
Lim Yeonhwa let out a small sigh and got straight to the point without dancing around it.
“This is what we’re able to offer in return.”
Information about the Dungeon had already been shared in advance — so what was needed now was to lay out the compensation Songhwa was prepared to give Seonmyeong for this.
Hanul reviewed the contract Lim Yeonhwa handed over with a smile.
Lim Yeonhwa made sure not to forget Dojun, passing him an identical contract to Hanul’s.
She had prepared Dojun’s copy in advance, having anticipated he would come along.
In the early days after Hunter Seon Hanul loses his memory, he’s always by his side.
Part of what allowed Hanul to maintain his daily life like this despite his distressing Dungeon aftereffect was undoubtedly his own effort — but it was also because a solid, trustworthy barrier stood guard around him.
To reach Hanul with his memory gone, you had to go through Dojun first — and who would dare try to swindle Hanul with someone like that in the way?
Having a person like that by your side is its own kind of luck.
Back when they were known as close friends and business partners, she had heard there were people who tried to sidle up to Dojun and make him unsavory proposals — but after the two went public with their relationship a year ago, she’d heard that kind of approach had nearly disappeared entirely.
No one could be unaware of what it meant for two men to go public like that.
There were still those who held onto hope that partners could betray each other just as family could — but regardless, after that, Hanul and Dojun had come to be thought of as a single unit.
Money never lies.
Even with the owner-risk of memory loss, Seonmyeong Guild’s value had risen sharply since they went public — and now it was being called the top guild in Korea not just by the general public, but within the hunter world as well.
Through every memory loss up until now, neither Hanul nor Seonmyeong had ever caused a problem — and Dojun was always there beside him.
We’re not without guilt about it, but we trust Seonmyeong — that’s exactly why we’re making this kind of request.
Lim Yeonhwa glanced up from reviewing the contract to see the two of them exchanging a look, and smiled warmly to herself.
It’s true — when the two of them are together, even Hunter Seon Hanul shows a crack or two.
He could be so perfect it felt almost distant — but watching him fail to hide his affection even in professional settings made Hanul look like any young man his age.
They were a pretty and handsome couple, lovely to look at.
They were also an admirable couple in the truest sense — trusting and leaning on each other, watching over each other.
Watching the two of them maintain their relationship without faltering despite the hardship of the memory loss, she felt something dormant inside her stir to life.
Though if it came down to it, she’d choose sleep over romance any day.
I notice it every time — even without his memories, they really do seem close.
But that was a thought only someone who didn’t know the full story between the two of them could have.
