“Yes, sir.
We’ve found him.
Yes, thankfully, he seems unharmed, though his face is a little… Ah, I think he’s waking up.
I’ll call you back.”
His monolid eyes fluttered open, revealing pupils so black and deep they seemed to hold a starless universe.
Unconscious, he had been like a finely crafted sculpture.
Awake, an unknowable pressure emanated from him, a world apart from the still figure he’d been moments before.
“Mujin, are you with me?”
Mujin’s eyes slid toward the voice before closing and opening again.
His movements were frustratingly slow, but the man beside him knew this was normal and waited patiently.
After a long moment, Mujin finally spoke.
“My head…”
“Your head?” the man asked anxiously.
“Does it hurt?”
Mujin pressed a hand to his forehead, his brow furrowed.
“I’ve already called Dr.
Kim.
I should let him know you’re awake.
What on earth happened?”
“Wait… my nose feels… numb.”
At his drowsy voice, the man, who had been pulling out his phone, froze.
He stared at Mujin, his posture stiffening as a strange expression crossed his face.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“That’s what I’d like to know.
Your nose is swollen.
Looks like you had a nosebleed, too.”
“What are you talking about?”
Without another word, the man held up a mirror.
The nose reflected back at him was red and tight with swelling.
A streak of dried blood was caked above his lip.
As Mujin’s eyebrows knitted together, Gwanghyeon didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
This wasn’t the first time he’d seen Mujin injured.
Hunters courted death; getting hurt was part of the job.
As one of the world’s most frequently dispatched Espers, it was impossible for Mujin to have remained unscathed.
But Gwanghyeon could swear this was the first time he’d ever seen him with a dried nosebleed, as if he’d been punched.
Which made it… kind of funny.
Gwanghyeon covered his mouth, feigning innocence.
“Ahem.
Did you hit your head when you collapsed?”
Mujin scowled, scratching at the dried blood.
It flaked away under his fingernails.
‘Collapsed?’ That was plausible.
Drunk on the thrill of the fight, he had gone Berserk without realizing his Esper Energy was running wild until his mind shut down like a blown fuse.
In retrospect, it had been a dangerous moment.
But that didn’t explain the state of his face.
This was no injury from falling forward.
As Mujin suspiciously examined his reflection, the man picked up the mop from the floor.
“What’s this?” Gwanghyeon’s gaze flickered between the mop handle and Mujin’s face.
“Secure the CCTV footage,” Mujin ordered.
“Got it.”
As Mujin sat up, something white slipped from his body.
‘A lab coat?’
He lifted the garment with his thumb and forefinger, his eyes clouded with suspicion.
It was a standard coat from a hospital or lab, but the pocket bore no insignia.
‘Why is this here?’
“Besides your face, are you okay?” Gwanghyeon asked.
Without looking away from the coat, Mujin began, “The same as… Huh?”
He trailed off, his gaze falling to his own hands.
He studied the prominent veins on the back, then turned them over to examine the calloused palms.
“What’s with you all of a sudden?” Gwanghyeon asked, puzzled by his restless movements.
He followed Mujin’s gaze to his empty hands and gasped.
“Hey, where’s your glove?
The limited edition, handmade Fiorre Luchan!
Do you know how much that costs?
Made from the hide of a demon realm swamp alligator, tanned for a whole year…
You can’t get that even with money…!”
With an annoyed sigh, Mujin tossed the glove from the floor at the fussing man.
Gwanghyeon snatched it from the air, clutching it to his chest like a long-lost brother.
“My body feels fine,” Mujin said.
“You can’t lose this… What did you say?”
“I said my body feels fine.
Too fine.”
“Isn’t that a relief?” Gwanghyeon blinked, confused.
Mujin shot him a withering look.
As a sharp glint entered his dark eyes, Gwanghyeon realized his mistake and quickly retrieved a silver case from his pocket.
Inside, custom cigarettes were neatly arranged.
With the swift, practiced motion of a nurse administering medicine, he placed one between Mujin’s lips and lit it.
It was a special blend made by BM Group for one person alone.
Hazy smoke curled from Mujin’s slightly parted lips, and the tension in his eyes finally eased.
Gwanghyeon felt a wave of relief, like a hunter who had just landed a tranquilizer dart in a wild beast.
“Phew, you scared me half to death.
The drug’s worn off, right?
Strange.
But your body is okay?” His eyes widened as the incongruity finally registered.
The man was Gwanghyeon Lee, an elite employee who had graduated from Ideia University’s business school, joined BM Group, and risen through the ranks until he caught the chairman’s eye and was promoted to be Mujin’s secretary.
People whispered it was a demotion—becoming the assistant to a man expected to die before thirty.
He’d even thought so himself at first.
But being secretary to the only son of the late chairman and the current chairman’s only nephew was a position of undeniable power, so he was content enough.
Besides, running around cleaning up messes suited him better than being cooped up in an office all day.
Gwanghyeon’s greatest concern was Mujin’s health.
He’d been so worried he’d even consulted a fortune-teller.
‘He did say Mujin would live long enough to be smearing his own shit on the walls…’
Gwanghyeon looked skeptically at the national hero who was also his high-maintenance boss.
An A-rank Esper without a Guide who was reliant on potent cigarettes to deaden his senses and low-efficiency Guiding devices.
That was the public image.
The reality was far worse.
Over a decade of accumulated Esper Energy roiled inside him like a pot of boiling water, constantly on the verge of overflowing.
The cigarettes he used were something non-awakened individuals couldn’t even touch—a psychoactive herb, lethal to the brain, soaked in the venom of a B-rank demon beast, the giant spider.
If Mujin weren’t the heir to BM Group and a hero to humanity, he would have been imprisoned long ago.
Mujin took a deep drag, the drug-like cigarette held loosely in his fingers.
With his usual languid gaze, he shook the lab coat gently, like a cat toying with its prey.
“Haa… yeah.
My head is clear.”
“Wow, that’s a relief.
Maybe you just got a good night’s sleep?”
“Gwanghyeon.”
“Yeah?”
“Does a little sleep fix this piece of trash body?”
“…I guess not.”
The smoke he exhaled crept slowly toward the convenience store ceiling.
The sight alone was intoxicating, and Gwanghyeon shook his head vigorously.
He could tell Mujin was in a foul mood.
“You seem worse off than before the battle.
Were the demon beasts boring?”
BM Group, not the Awakened Center, had been the first to learn of the Gate in Gangwon Province.
Mujin, already on edge from his sensitivity to Esper Energy, had departed at once.
For him, demon beasts were the perfect punching bags.
But something unexpected had happened.
“No, it was decent.
At least a B-rank.”
“What?
The Gate was B-rank?” Gwanghyeon’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.
A B-rank Gate required at least three A-rank Espers to handle.
It was a piece of cake for Mujin, but only when he was in good condition.
Blowing off steam was one thing; expending that much power was dangerous.
One wrong move, and he could push past his limit and go Berserk… a thought he refused to entertain.
“Only one of its arms came through because the Gate was constricting it.
If the main body had emerged, it would’ve been a real pain.”
“You can’t face something like that in your condition!
Don’t tell me you…” Gwanghyeon’s eyes wavered.
Mujin snorted.
“Don’t worry.
I have no intention of dying.
I was going to wait for support, but then some woman showed up.”
“A woman?”
Frowning as if the memory was hazy, Mujin muttered, “…She didn’t even run away.”
Gwanghyeon, listening intently, furrowed his brow.
He couldn’t understand the relevance.
“By any chance, was she pretty?”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Mujin shot him another pathetic look.
“Ah, just kidding.” Though he had been quite serious.
“Anyway, you really scared me this time.
A battle breaks out, you’re unreachable, and the staff can’t find you anywhere.
Then the center says you’re here.
You make me age years in a single day.
Why don’t you get a Task Force like other Espers to clean up after you?
Don’t you feel sorry for me?
I’m working myself to death?”
To this long-winded complaint, Mujin offered a single sentence.
“You don’t want to work anymore?”
He chewed on his cigarette and tilted his head.
Gwanghyeon clamped his mouth shut, swallowing the sorrows of a corporate drone.
“Just don’t disappear on me.
Let me save some face with the chairman.”
Mujin brushed off the sullen grumbling, though he couldn’t make sense of the situation either.
“Why am I here?”
This was where he’d first faced the Gate’s massive, beastly hand.
The final confrontation had taken place far from here.
‘Did that mean I’d lost consciousness during Berserk mode and somehow made my way back?’