Chapter 272

“Hello?”

The voice on the other end of the phone sounded unfamiliar.

The Park Jihoon I remembered from middle school hadn’t even finished going through his voice change, and since then, we’d only exchanged a few words in passing when we ran into each other a few months ago.

Is this really him?

I was still hesitating when he spoke again.

“Is this Jin Taekyung’s number?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s me. I thought you might be someone else.”

“What the hell? You didn’t save my number last time?”

“I did, but for a second I thought you might’ve called the wrong number. I didn’t recognize your voice.”

“Fair enough. That was the first time we’d seen each other since middle school.”

“True. I didn’t even recognize you then.”

“Of course you didn’t. Do you have any idea how much money I poured into this face?”

A low laugh came through the phone. There wasn’t a trace of awkwardness between us; the mood felt warm and familiar.

I laughed along as I climbed into the VIP limousine provided by the Gate Management Agency. The driver met my eyes in the rearview mirror and gave me a polite nod before smoothly pulling away.

“So, what’s up?”

“Nothing much. I called to see if you wanted to grab a drink.”

“Drinks? Out of the blue?”

“Yeah. I said I’d get in touch when we had our class reunion, but I never did.”

Did he?

Thinking back, it seemed like he had. I’d been so busy since then that I’d completely forgotten.

“Something came up at the last minute, and I had to go overseas on business. I couldn’t even make it to the reunion.”

“An overseas business trip?”

“There was a problem at our European branch. I only got back recently.”

I went to Murim, and this guy went to Europe.

I had no idea what he’d done there, but for some reason, I felt cheated. I spoke with as much envy as I could muster.

“You lucky bastard. Must’ve been nice getting to see Europe.”

“You’re jealous of me? You?”

Park Jihoon burst out laughing on the other end of the line.

“That feels really weird coming from you. Are you trying to rub it in?”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

“I’m kidding. So, are you free tonight?”

I glanced at the time. It was already eight in the evening.

I’d moved out of our family home and into an officetel¹ in Bucheon three days ago, so even if I went home, the only person waiting for me would be Jinho hyung.²

I had time. The problem was…

He doesn’t have some other motive, does he?

But I only hesitated for a moment.

I’d been a Hunter for seven years. Even the close friends I’d been inseparable from during my school days had gradually stopped contacting me long ago.

Out of sight, out of mind didn’t apply only to romantic relationships.

And yet here I was, suspecting a friend who had contacted me after all this time without any ulterior motive.

Have I developed trust issues or something?

The aftermath of the Won Myunghoon incident, along with the harassment I’d endured from certain trash reporters, must have left a lasting mark. I was left with a bitter taste in my mouth.

“You must be pretty busy. I guess that makes sense. Then maybe next time…”

“No, I’m free now. Where should we meet?”

A little while later, the limousine gliding down the road changed course.

“You got here faster than I expected.”

Park Jihoon was already outside waiting for me.

The weather was gradually turning toward winter. In his cashmere coat over a crisp white shirt, he looked completely different from me.

“What’s with the outfit? Why are you so dressed up?”

“I have something important to take care of today. And let’s get one thing straight. It’s not that I’m dressed up—you’re dressed down.”

“Hey, what’s wrong with what I’m wearing? Jeans and a sweatshirt are perfectly fine.”

This was me making an effort, too. Hayeon had kept squawking at me to stop wearing tracksuits when so many people were watching.

“Where did all the money you earned go…? Oh, right. You donated it.”

“Don’t bring that up. It still hurts.”

“That’s why I called you. When something’s eating at you, alcohol is the best medicine.”

Park Jihoon grinned and jerked his chin toward the entrance, then started walking.

We passed a uniformed security guard and countless surveillance cameras installed throughout the grounds before finally making it inside.

The sight that greeted me left my mouth hanging open.

What the hell is this?

The marble floor glittered beneath the lights, while paintings that looked as though they had come straight out of the seventeenth century hung in frames along the walls.

I think I saw that one in an art textbook. There’s no way it’s genuine, right? Yeah. It can’t be.

I followed him, gawking like a country bumpkin.

We stopped in front of five elevators lined up side by side.

There weren’t even any buttons, so I had no idea what I was supposed to do. Then Jihoon placed his hand on a black panel, and an elevator descended in the blink of an eye with a mechanical whine.

Bzzzzing.

“What are you doing? Get in.”

“…Wow.”

“What are you so surprised about?”

“Nothing. I just thought you said this was an officetel.”¹

“It is. An officetel.”¹

“…”

The officetel¹ he knew and the one I knew seemed to be two entirely different things. I swallowed the words before they could slip out.

Maybe it was because we were in Cheongdam-dong, but the place practically reeked of wealth from the entrance onward.

“You really made it. You even bought a place like this.”

“It came onto the market recently, so I bought it. I thought I could stop by now and then to clear my head.”

Anyone listening to him would think he’d bought a pair of shoes.

As I shook my head in disbelief, the elevator stopped and the doors opened. Instead of a cold, dark hallway, a living room decorated in shades of gray spread out before me.

I didn’t know the exact square footage, but the living room alone was about the same size as our family home.

“Come in.”

I had no idea whether he’d really bought the place just to clear his head, but one thing was certain: I’d never been anywhere like it.

The enormous lounge suite and wine cellar in the living room made it look as though someone had picked up an upscale bar and moved it inside.

Park Jihoon took off his coat and asked, “What do you want to drink?”

“What do you have?”

“Château Cheval Blanc, Screaming Eagle Cabernet Sauvignon, Royal de Maria…”

What the hell is he talking about?

I blinked at the stream of alien words.

“Chateau Shibal, what?”³

“Château Cheval Blanc.”

Whether it was château or shatto, every single name was impossibly complicated.

After a brief silence, I asked, “Don’t you have any somaek?”⁴

Park Jihoon let out a short laugh.

We stacked up a crate each of soju and beer and drank without pause.

It had been eleven years since we’d lost touch in our third year of middle school, so we had a mountain of things to talk about.

“Remember that guy No Jaehun from the class next door?”

“Who was No Jaehun?”

“The tall guy who used to brag about working out. Anyway, when he got into a fight with Seon Woongje from our class, you—”

“Wait. Who the hell is Seon Woongje?”

“…Do you have amnesia or something?”

We talked about everything from trivial memories of middle school to what we’d been doing since we lost touch.

The only time either of us stopped talking was to drink.

At some point, I realized the corners of my mouth had been turned up for quite a while.

This is fun.

How could I put it? Drinking with someone you felt comfortable around was always enjoyable, but there was something a little more special about sharing a drink with a friend who shared the same memories.

The atmosphere was so warm and friendly that I felt like an idiot for having suspected him, even briefly, during our phone call.

I also learned a few things about him that I’d never known before.

“You were born with a silver spoon?”

“Silver spoon is a bit much. My father just runs a small business.”

“A Hunter-related business that he’s been running for more than thirty years?”

“Yeah.”

“That makes you a silver-spoon kid, you deceitful bastard. Guys who talk like you always turn out to be the ones who are genuinely rich.”

I looked at him.

It wasn’t that he suddenly looked different now that I knew he was rich. I just found it fascinating.

The neighborhood where we’d lived back then had been perfectly ordinary. If it hadn’t been, someone like me—whose school grades had been determined by rolling a mechanical pencil to guess the answers—would never have gotten in.

The Hunter industry, on the other hand, was practically a gold mine.

If his family had survived for thirty years amid such fierce competition, it wouldn’t have been strange to find gold bars rolling around their house.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“It’s just weird. Don’t rich kids usually go to Gangnam’s famous School District 8 or somewhere like that?”⁵

“I guess I’m not a rich kid, then. Besides, I transferred in, remember?”

“You transferred? That’s the first I’ve heard of it.”

“Yeah. In our second year of middle school. There wasn’t any reason to mention it.”

“Wasn’t there?”

“No.”

I tilted my head and took another drink.

Then again, what did it matter that he’d transferred schools in middle school? It had happened more than ten years ago.

“We didn’t meet until our third year, anyway. We’d never crossed paths before then, so it makes sense that I wouldn’t know.”

“But we crossed paths plenty of times.”

“Huh?”

“A week after I transferred, I saw you for the first time in front of the teachers’ office. Then we ran into each other in the hallway. We crossed paths in the bathroom, too.”

Memories from more than ten years ago, already blurred into an indistinct mosaic, flowed from Park Jihoon’s lips.

“Wow… How do you remember all that?”

His perfectly smooth lips curved into a smile.

“I have a better memory than you’d think. Unlike some people.”

I topped off his empty glass and chuckled.

“Hey, my memory might be terrible, but there’s one thing I remember.”

“What?”

“You never did your homework. Every time we had a test, you guessed all the answers, put your head down, and went to sleep.”

“Oh, that.”

“If your memory was so good, why were your grades in memorization-heavy subjects so awful? Did you even go to college—ah, is that rude to ask?”

“What’s rude about it? I don’t care.”

“Then that’s a relief.”

“And I did go to college. Business Administration at Hankuk University. I awakened out of nowhere, so I still haven’t graduated.”

“Wait, where? Hankuk University?”

“My parents wanted me to go.”

“…You crazy bastard. Are there parents who don’t want their kid to get into Hankuk University?”

Hankuk University was the most prestigious university in the country. Only the brightest students from across Korea could get in.

Park Jihoon laughed lightly at my incredulous stare.

“When I actually tried, I got in. It wasn’t as hard as I expected.”

“Huh.”

How could I put it? The more I heard about his life, the more it sounded like a wide-open highway.

A wealthy family, a sharp mind, admission to the university everyone dreamed of, and then becoming an A-rank Awakened in one shot.

Unlike me, who’d been forced to provide for my family, becoming a Hunter had been just one of countless options available to him.

“Why?”

“Huh?”

“You were looking at me strangely.”

“Was it that obvious?”

“Very. Taekyung, are you perhaps…”

Park Jihoon propped his chin on one hand.

His alcohol-soaked voice continued in a low murmur.

“Are you jealous of me?”

Jealous?

The question was so unexpected that I stared blankly for a moment. Then I burst out laughing.

“Yeah. I guess that’s what it is.”

“…You’re honest.”

“It’s true. Longing for something I never had? Envy, maybe. Something like that. I don’t regret anything, though. I worked hard enough.”

Park Jihoon stared at me, his eyes widening slightly as though he hadn’t expected that answer.

“So you get jealous of people, too.”

“Hey, what am I, some kind of big shot?”

“You are. Look at yourself now. You’re a Hunter drawing attention from the foreign media as well as the domestic press. Before long, you might even become one of Korea’s five S-rank Hunters.”

“That sounds impressive—except I’m also the guy who made a donation and still trembles every time he thinks about the money.”

I let out a short laugh and emptied my glass. Park Jihoon gazed at me in silence, his lips parting as though he were about to say something.

That was when—

Bzzzt.

The smartphone on the table began to vibrate. Park Jihoon stared intently at the screen and licked his lips.

“Who is it?”

“My Guild Team Leader.”

“At this hour? Does the Myeongdong Guild have some kind of twenty-four-hour standby team?”

“Nothing like that. It’s about something important.”

“Then…”

“Sorry, but I think we’ll have to call it a night.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s not like we don’t understand each other’s circumstances.”

I set down my glass and stood. Then I gave Park Jihoon, who was looking at me apologetically, a light tap on the shoulder.

I had a good time tonight.

I meant it. Now that I had become famous in the modern world, there weren’t many people left with whom I could have an ulterior-motive-free conversation like this.

I stopped him when he tried to follow me into the elevator.

“I’m heading out. Don’t bother coming down just to see me off. Take care of your problem.”

A faint smile touched Park Jihoon’s lips.

“Okay. Let’s meet again. Definitely.”

With those final words, the elevator doors closed.

Park Jihoon stood before the window and looked down.

A lone figure was leaving the officetel¹ entrance below, swallowed by the darkness.

“Hello? Mr. Jihoon? Mr. Jihoon?”

“Go ahead.”

“Ah, we finally connected. You were listening, so why didn’t you say anything…?”

“I think you’ve misunderstood something, Team Leader.”

The other person’s breathing faltered at the dry voice.

Park Jihoon lifted a crystal tumbler to his lips. Instead of the somaek⁴ he’d been drinking moments ago, amber whiskey rippled inside.

“From now on, wait until I speak. And stop trying to play boss with me.”

Park Jihoon, Hunter of Team 1 in the Myeongdong Guild.

That was the affiliation printed on his business card.

But the Team Leader of Team 1 in the Myeongdong Guild remained silent on the other end of the phone.

They both knew the truth. That title was nothing more than a hollow position.

“You’re not answering.”

“…Understood.”

“So what is it? This important report of yours?”

The Team Leader of Team 1 answered carefully.

“You know Team Leader Jung Hyunwoo, right? The one in charge of Team 8.”

“Of course. He’s skilled, but his flexibility isn’t even half as impressive as his ability. That’s the problem.”

“It seems he’s caught the scent.”

“Really? He’s more perceptive than I expected.”

“Yes. But I wasn’t sure how we should handle it…”

“What is there to think about? Schedule a raid for the earliest possible date. An A-rank one.”

“You mean…”

“Team Leader, do you know how many Gate accidents happen every year? I don’t. Neither does anyone else. Nobody cares.”

“…”

Park Jihoon clicked his tongue.

“You’re not answering again.”

“Ah. Understood.”

“And regarding the Peace Guild—or rather, the Jin Taekyung matter…”

Park Jihoon trailed off.

The face of the man who had smiled and tapped him on the shoulder came to mind.

I had a good time tonight.

It had been a sincere statement.

That only made Park Jihoon even less willing to stop.

“Mr. Jihoon?”

Park Jihoon tossed back the rest of his whiskey.

The crystal tumbler crumpled in his hand like a sheet of paper.

“I finished speaking with the higher-ups today. They find him irritating.”

That was all. A single passing remark over dinner with that person. The matter had been as good as settled from that moment on.

“What? But this isn’t really the right time for something like that…”

Park Jihoon’s cold voice cut off the Team Leader’s startled protest.

“Isn’t it only natural for a gardener to pull weeds from the lawn? Your Guild Master has probably already heard the news. I’m hanging up.”

Click.

The call ended.

In the silence that followed, Park Jihoon stared through the spotless window at the view outside.

Jin Taekyung was long gone.