Chapter 9
Isn’t this a cliché?
The machine fails to measure overwhelming power and explodes in a dramatic, visually shocking way.
It was such a textbook cliché that I almost suspected Lee Eunhyun staged it. Maybe the machine wasn’t supposed to explode, and he secretly tampered with it.
But I seemed to be the only one thinking that way. The reporters were frantically documenting everything.
I wanted to look away.
But this was my workplace.
And I was the one who had to deal with this mess.
“Please step back. The debris could be dangerous.”
As I pushed through the excited reporters, those who couldn’t reach Eunhyun turned their microphones toward me instead.
As expected.
“You’re a center official, right?! What do you think about the explosion?”
“Was it a machine defect? Or a problem with the measurement? What about compensation if the person inside was injured?”
Right.
Not only is the machine our property—
Any compensation would also come from our department.
Thinking about our remaining budget nearly made me cry.
Just then, Eunhyun stepped toward me.
He wore a perfectly crafted smile, brows slightly furrowed as if troubled.
He looked completely comfortable presenting himself to the media.
“I’m not injured, and I have no intention of asking for compensation. If anything, I may have broken an expensive machine…”
Expensive?
It’s more than that.
Each center only has one machine.
We can’t even measure multiple people at once.
The most common complaint is long waiting times.
But I couldn’t say, “I don’t know.”
“The official machine may no longer function, but we have a simplified testing device. We can retest with that. However, this may not be a simple case of malfunction. If possible, could you control your mana output during measurement?”
“Control my mana…? I’ll try.”
Of course he can.
Looking at his deliberately confused expression, I responded with my best professional regretful face.
Work life is all about acting.
Thankfully, the simplified testing machine wasn’t stolen during yesterday’s chaos.
Two staff members quickly brought it over.
It can’t give exact results, only detect whether mana is present—but that’s enough to prove whether the explosion was due to him.
But seriously.
Is he really S-rank?
I’ve never heard of a machine exploding during measurement, even abroad.
Foreign S-ranks were all officially measured.
“Relax. Don’t tense up. Just put your hand in, and if possible, release only a very small amount of mana—no, take your hand out!”
“Oh. Sorry.”
I was handling the test myself.
Or trying to.
The moment his hand went in, the machine started vibrating again.
The mana graph immediately filled red.
Usually, even a tiny dot can result in an F-rank.
“This does not appear to be a machine malfunction. Nevertheless, we promise appropriate compensation. But first, congratulations. At this level, you’re at least A-rank.”
“Is S-rank possible?!”
“It’s possible. To confirm, we need a detailed test. I recommend using a foreign device rather than a domestic one. We will provide transportation and support.”
The closest country with an S-rank Hunter is China.
The Shanghai branch likely has updated equipment capable of measuring S-rank.
If we test him domestically, we’ll probably just destroy more machines.
Awakened people have existed for decades, yet we’re still using outdated devices.
“Will you accompany me, Assistant Manager?”
“Excuse me? I’m assigned to the domestic branch, so I’d need to transfer the case—”
“But didn’t you say you would take responsibility for me? My heart is still racing from the explosion. I’d feel reassured if you came. I don’t want financial compensation.”
When did I say I’d take responsibility for you?!
I said we’d provide appropriate compensation!
And that’s the institution, not me personally!
But if this reaches upper management, they’ll absolutely tell me to go. It saves money.
And the reporters heard him.
If I say, “Why should I?” tomorrow’s headline will read:
“Civil Servant’s Attitude Toward Potential S-Rank Hunter—Is This Acceptable?”
“…If I receive approval from superiors, I will accompany you.”
“Thank you so much!”
Even his excited tone annoyed me.
What a performance.
***
“Sigh…”
“If you’re uncomfortable, feel free to move. There’s plenty of space.”
“Don’t talk to me.”
“How cold. I thought we could bond during this long flight.”
Long?
It’s barely two hours.
I resisted the urge to stomp on his foot sticking out from the first-class seat.
Upper management didn’t even hesitate.
The moment they heard the news, they shoved plane tickets into my hands.
If a domestic S-rank might be born, nothing else matters.
I didn’t even have time to pack toiletries.
“Don’t be too harsh. I think this is the best method.”
“You could’ve thought a little more. Another center would’ve worked.”
“No. What I need isn’t measurement. It’s you.”
Why is he like this?
I haven’t done anything to offend him.
Why this constant attention?
“Did you fall in love with me at first sight?”
“…What?”
“But don’t ask me out. I’m not interested in dating right now.”
I repeated what he said during our first meeting.
Does it annoy you when it’s turned around?
“You’re not my type.”
I deliberately didn’t compliment his looks.
He knows he’s handsome.
He sees the mirror every day.
He didn’t look offended at all.
Instead, he leaned slightly closer.
“Let’s say I fell for your eyes.”
“How cliché.”
I should’ve ordered something other than orange juice.
My throat felt dry.
I turned toward the blank airplane wall.
He tapped the armrest lightly.
I knew he didn’t mean my appearance when he said “eyes.”
But just because he revealed his secret doesn’t mean I have to reveal mine.
Still—
Some part of his absurd story is probably true.
The question is how much.
“I’ll try to control it, but honestly, my rank is SS. The machine can’t measure it.”
“I see. That’s impressive.”
“You’re not surprised?”
“You said you regressed multiple times. Why would SS surprise me? If anything, you should’ve gone for triple S.”
I don’t care.
Even Frank feels distant to me as a civilian.
S or SS—both are unrealistic.
When you’re on the same level, rank differences matter.
When someone is that far above, you can’t even gauge it.
But the way he casually shares information that should be secret is suspicious.
“Even if I were triple S, I couldn’t stop what’s coming alone.”
“…No single exceptional person can fix the world alone. If you’re confirmed S-rank, the country will call on you often. Other hunters will help. Don’t worry.”
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
No.
I’d rather not know.
Even if my eyes see something unusual—
I’m not strong or fast enough to use it.
In Hunter affairs, I’d only be in the way.
“I have no intention of harming you. Don’t be so guarded. Think of me like a stray cat.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
A stray cat?
More like a chimera malamute.
If he playfully nudges me with his foot, I’d probably die.
