Chapter 272

“Hello?”

The voice coming through the phone sounded unfamiliar.

The Park Jihoon I remembered from middle school hadn’t even finished going through his voice change, and since then, the only time we had spoken was during a brief, passing conversation a few months ago.

Is this really him?

I was hesitating when he spoke again.

“Is this Jin Taekyung’s number?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s me. I thought I might have reached someone else.”

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

“I did, but for a moment I thought you might’ve called the wrong number. Your voice didn’t sound familiar.”

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

“Yeah. I didn’t recognize you back then, either.”

“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.

“But what’s going on?”

“Nothing much. I called to ask 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 couldn’t.”

Had he?

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

“Something suddenly came up, and I had to go on a business trip overseas. I couldn’t even attend the reunion because of it.”

“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 sightseeing overseas.”

“You’re jealous of me? You?”

Park Jihoon laughed out loud on the other end of the line.

“That sounds really strange coming from you. Were you just rubbing 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 officetel in Bucheon three days ago, so even if I went home, the only person waiting for me would be Jinho hyung.

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. The close friends I’d been inseparable from during my school days had gradually stopped contacting me a long time ago.

The saying that people grew distant when they were separated by distance 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 a distrust of humanity?

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 suppose that makes sense. Then maybe next time…”

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

A little while later, the limousine turned off the road it had been gliding along.

“You got here faster than I expected.”

Park Jihoon had arrived ahead of me and was waiting outside.

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

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

“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.”

“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 about how many people were watching me and telling me to stop wearing tracksuits.

“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. Alcohol is the best medicine for a sore stomach.”

Park Jihoon gave me a broad grin and jerked his chin toward the entrance. Then he 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 me speechless.

What the hell is this?

The marble floor glittered in the light, 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, looking around like a country bumpkin.

We stopped in front of five elevators installed 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.”

“It is. An officetel.”¹

“…”

The officetel he knew and the one I knew seemed to be two entirely different things. I swallowed the words that were about to come out.

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

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

“There was a property on the market recently, so I bought it. I thought I could drop by sometimes and clear my head.”

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

While I was shaking my head in disbelief, the elevator stopped and the doors opened. Instead of a cold, dark hallway, a gray-toned living room 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 didn’t know whether he’d really bought the place to clear his head, but one thing was certain: I had never been anywhere like it.

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

After taking off his coat, Park Jihoon asked me,

“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 before asking,

“Chateau Shibal, what?”²

“Château Cheval Blanc.”

I didn’t know whether it was château or shatto, but every single name was impossibly difficult.

After a brief silence, I opened my mouth.

“Don’t you have any somaek?”

Park Jihoon let out a short laugh.

We piled up a whole crate of soju and another of beer, then drank without pause.

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

“Do you remember that guy named No Jaehun from the class next door?”

“Who was No Jaehun?”

“The tall guy who bragged about working out at the gym. Anyway, when he got into a fight with Seon Woongje from our class, you—”

“Wait a second. Who the hell is Seon Woongje?”

“…”

“Are you suffering from 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 when we were drinking.

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

This is fun.

What should I call it? Drinking with someone you felt comfortable with was always enjoyable, but sharing the same memories made the experience a little more special.

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

I also learned a few things about him that I hadn’t known before.

“You were born with a silver spoon?”

“What makes you say that? 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. The people who talk like you always turn out to be 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 grades had been determined by rolling a mechanical pencil to guess the answers—wouldn’t have been able to get in.

By contrast, the Hunter industry was practically a gold mine.

If his family had survived for thirty years amid fierce competition between companies, it wouldn’t have been strange if gold bars were rolling around their house.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“It’s strange. Don’t rich kids usually go to Gangnam’s famous School District 8 or somewhere like that?”³

“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 the second year of middle school. There was no particular reason to mention it.”

“Wasn’t there?”

“No.”

I tilted my head and took another drink.

He had a point. What importance could transferring schools in middle school possibly have? It had been more than ten years ago, anyway.

“We only met for the first time in our third year of middle school. We hadn’t crossed paths before then, so it makes sense that I wouldn’t know.”

“But we crossed paths plenty of times.”

“Huh?”

“The day after I’d been at the school for a week, I saw you for the first time in front of the teachers’ office. Then we ran into each other in the hallway. We even crossed paths in the bathroom.”

Fragments of memories from more than ten years ago—already blurred and covered in static—flowed from Park Jihoon’s lips.

“Wow… How do you remember all that?”

His smooth lips curved into a smile.

“I have a better memory than I look like I do. Unlike some people.”

I topped off his empty glass and chuckled.

“Hey, even if my memory is terrible, I remember one thing.”

“What?”

“You never did your homework. Every time we had a test, you guessed your answers, then put your head down and slept.”

“Oh, that.”

“If you had such a good memory, why were your grades in memorization-heavy subjects so terrible? Did you 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. Hankuk University, Business Administration. I awakened suddenly, 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 child 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 tried, I got in. It wasn’t as hard as I expected.”

“Huh.”

What should I call it? The more I listened to the story of his life, the more I thought of 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 had been forced to provide for my family, Hunter work 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 rested his chin on one hand.

His voice continued in a low murmur, thick with alcohol.

“Are you jealous of me?”

Jealous?

It was such an unexpected question 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. Admiration for something I couldn’t have? Envy, I guess. Something like that. Of course, I don’t regret anything. I worked hard enough.”

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

“You get jealous of people, too.”

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

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

“That sounds impressive—except I’m also the guy trembling with regret over making a donation.”

I let out a short laugh and emptied my glass. Park Jihoon gazed at me for a while, then his lips began to move 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 something important.”

“Then…”

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

“Don’t apologize. It’s not as though 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 with an apologetic expression, a light tap on the shoulder.

“I had a good time tonight.”

I meant it. Now that I had become a famous person in the modern world, there were very few people with whom I could have a completely selfless conversation like this one.

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

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

A faint smile appeared around Park Jihoon’s mouth.

“Okay. Let’s meet again next time. We will.”

With those final words, the elevator doors closed.

Park Jihoon stood in front of the window and looked down.

A lone figure was leaving the entrance of the officetel amid the darkness that had swallowed the city.

“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 somaek he had 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 I do. He’s skilled, but his flexibility doesn’t come close to matching even half of his ability. That’s the problem.”

“It seems he’s caught the scent.”

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

“Yes. But what should we do about it…?”

“What are you hesitating over? Arrange a raid for the earliest available date. A-rank.”

“You mean…”

“Team Leader, do you know how many Gate accidents happen in a year? I don’t. No one else does, either. Nobody cares.”

“…”

Park Jihoon clicked his tongue.

“You’re not answering again.”

“Ah, understood.”

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

Park Jihoon’s voice 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.

And that 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 it took. One passing remark during dinner with that person. The matter was as good as settled.

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

The Team Leader’s startled protest was cut off by Park Jihoon’s cold voice.

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

Click.

The call ended.

In the quiet that followed, Park Jihoon stared through the spotless window at the scene outside.

Jin Taekyung had disappeared a long time ago.