Ranker User Manual 51

Chapter 51

Strapped into the back seat, Chanhee stared quietly out the window. The sky was a flawless, cloudless blue—the kind of day that hovered between winter’s end and spring’s first breath, when buds swelled on branches but the air still carried a bite.

“Seatbelt on?”

“Mhm.”

Chanhee rested his chin in his palm, his answer barely more than a murmur. Undeterred by his lack of enthusiasm, his mother signaled the driver to start. The car pulled away smoothly, the world outside blurring into streaks of color. Bored already, Chanhee turned to look at the seat beside him. Hyunjae sat just as still, belt fastened, eyes fixed ahead.

“Ever been out of the country?” Chanhee asked suddenly.

Hyunjae shook his head. Chanhee puffed out his chest, folding his arms with a smug little smirk. “I have.”

“Where?”

“Russia. Japan.”

“Is it far?”

“Nah. You just sleep on the plane, and then—boom—you’re there.”

“Weren’t you scared on the plane?”

Chanhee scoffed. “Scared of what?”

His mother, riding shotgun, let out a snort of laughter. “Chanhee, I still remember you bawling your eyes out the first time you flew.”

“Mom!”

Hyunjae shot him a look—Really?—and Chanhee’s face burned crimson. So much for his grand tale of fearless travel.

“And don’t you two get too chatty on the plane later,” his mother added.

“We’ll be quiet,” Chanhee muttered.

“Oh? Chanhee, you sneak into Hyunjae’s room every night to talk and play, even after bedtime.”

“How’d you—?”

“I know everything.”

Chanhee tilted his head, impressed despite himself. Hyunjae had been living in the mansion for nearly three months now. After weeks of tension, his father and Dohyun had settled into an uneasy truce—mostly because Dohyun had been so swamped with work, they barely crossed paths. The fact that he’d come home at all during Hyunjae’s first few weeks had been nothing short of a miracle.

At first, Chanhee’s parents had kept their distance from Hyunjae. But little by little, they’d started looking out for him—his mother especially. They weren’t heartless; no matter how unexpected his arrival, they couldn’t just turn away a child. Watching his family slowly soften toward Hyunjae, Chanhee felt something heavy lift from his chest.

“When we get there, my brother’s gonna be busy. Don’t bug him, got it?”

“Got it.”

“Hyunjae, you too.”

“Got it.”

***

Thirty minutes later, they pulled up to Incheon Airport. Check-in and boarding were quick. Hyunjae only trembled a little, showing no real sign of nerves, which annoyed Chanhee. Their mother double-checked their seatbelts before the first-class cabin swallowed them in hushed luxury. The boys nibbled on chocolates from the flight attendant and whispered about the trip.

“Think we’ll see your brother right when we land?”

“Probably by tonight, even if he’s late.”

Chanhee tried to play it cool, but his excitement was impossible to hide. It had been almost a month since he’d last seen Dohyun. Every time he turned on the TV, there his brother was—splashed across headlines, his name in every paper. To Chanhee, Dohyun wasn’t just family. He was a hero.

“I miss my brother,” Hyunjae said quietly.

Chanhee nodded. He knew Hyunjae felt the same. Dohyun was the only adult who’d reached out to him when everything else had vanished. The one who’d given him a home, clothes, a family—again.

“They say my brother took out all the monsters this time.”

“Didn’t he get hurt?”

“Nah. My brother never gets hurt. Last time, he fought ten monsters alone and won.”

“Seriously?”

“Duh. Don’t you trust my brother?”

“No, it’s not that…”

Hyunjae looked down. Unlike Chanhee’s blind faith, Hyunjae carried a quiet fear—the kind that clung to someone who’d lost the person closest to them too young.

***

The plane touched down with a screech that seemed to split the air. Seatbelts unclicked, and under their mother’s watchful eye, the boys filed out. The airport inside looked much like Korea’s, but outside, everything felt strange, unfamiliar. Chanhee’s mood brightened as he craned his neck, taking it all in.

“We wait for the driver,” his mother said.

“Mom! Are we going to an amusement park?”

“Chanhee, what did I tell you? We’re not here to play.”

“Oh… right.”

“Didn’t you say you wanted to see your brother?”

“Yeah!”

“Then let’s get to the hotel quietly. Understood?”

Just then, a sleek car pulled up—their ride. The hotel wasn’t far, the most luxurious in Tokyo. As VIP family, it was only fitting.

The Japanese Prime Minister had personally requested Dohyun’s help to destroy the S-rank Gate lurking at the city’s edge. Top Rankers often worked overseas, but a direct plea from a head of state? Unheard of. The Gate had already claimed twenty Japanese Rankers, with damages soaring into the billions.

Dohyun had arrived with his usual team a week ago. The exhausted Shielders and Crafters on-site had looked at them like a lifeline—they’d been pouring everything into keeping the monsters contained.

“I’ll go in now.”

No grand speech. Just a glance from Dohyun, and his team moved as one. The moment they vanished into the Gate, the people left behind had collapsed from sheer exhaustion.

***

“Think he’ll come out today?”

“Probably.”

The Japanese news played on TV, endlessly dissecting the S-rank Gate and the battle waged by Korea’s Yu Dohyun. No Gate had ever lasted more than a week—an unspoken rule since the first one appeared. Somewhere within a 10-kilometer radius, an exit always opened. Whether anyone made it out was another story.

Chanhee and Hyunjae lay side by side on the rustling hotel bed, eyes glued to the incomprehensible broadcast. There was nothing else to do. Their mother sat with her hands clasped, murmuring prayers. Chanhee mimicked her, folding his hands. Hyunjae did the same.

Then, the phone buzzed. Their mother answered slowly, her flushed face crumpling into tears. Chanhee bolted upright.

“Mom? What’s wrong? What happened?”

She pulled him into a tight hug. “Your brother’s out.”

“Yes!”

Chanhee pumped his fist, grinning. “Told you he always wins.”

Hyunjae didn’t say anything, but his face relaxed into a small, relieved smile.

***

Dohyun arrived at the hotel after a quick interview. Nearly ten o’clock. He recalled the room number and stepped into the elevator, his body heavy with fatigue—but he had to see them.

“Dohyun!”

The door had barely opened before his mother rushed forward. His eyes scanned the room, landing on the sofa—where Hyunjae sat, quiet and still.

“You made it back.”

His voice didn’t match his face, shadowed with something unspoken. Chanhee, belatedly, dashed over and tugged at his leg. “Brother! Did you kill all the monsters?”

“Yeah.”

“All by yourself?”

“With my team.”

Dohyun ruffled Chanhee’s hair, his answers automatic. “Just seeing me in one piece is enough.”

“Going back to your room?”

“Yeah. Beat.”

Chanhee’s face fell. After waiting all day, it was over too soon. Hyunjae looked just as disappointed. Dohyun, exhausted, turned toward the door.

“Brother must be really tired,” Chanhee muttered.

“Yeah.”

“Maybe he’ll play with us tomorrow.”

“Think so?”

“Then you have to sleep early.”

Their mother herded them toward bed—until Chanhee spotted a pen on the floor. Ordinary, but unmistakably Dohyun’s. Ignoring his mother’s protests, he snatched it up. “I’ll take it to him!”

Down the hallway, he saw a black silhouette at the end of the corridor. Dohyun—had to be.

“…I did it.”

Chanhee crept closer, heart pounding.

“……I did what I was told.”

“……I brought him.”

Dohyun stood frozen, staring at nothing, like he was reading words only he could see. Then Chanhee noticed it—a flickering blue window, like something from a game, lines of text scrolling too fast to read.

The pen slipped from his fingers.

Dohyun whipped around, eyes locking onto his.