Episode 06
Warm morning sunlight settled across the living room.
An utterly ordinary family home.
At its center sat a small lifeform, motionless like a stone statue of longing, eyes glued to the television. Then the child tilted their head upward.
“…? Sam-chooon?”
“It’s Uncle Wonseok.”
My brother smiled as he supported me and slipped off his shoes.
Yes.
That little one was my niece.
She was barely four years old—so young I rarely ever got to see her.
But still.
Not because she was my niece—she was genuinely adorable.
“Unclee Woonseooook!”
She came toddling over, running like she might trip at any second, and wrapped her arms tightly around my leg. Something surged up inside my chest.
“Na-eun, look. Uncle bought you LEGO.”
Even when my brother held out the LEGO box he’d hidden behind his back—
“Uncleee…”
The toddler, just barely learning to talk, rubbed her face back and forth against my shin.
“She goes crazy for LEGO. You’re better than LEGO, Uncle?”
“Yes!”
“Better than Daddy?”
“Yes!”
“Why?”
“’Cause Uncle’s smarter than Daddy!”
My brother groaned as if wounded, then immediately pulled the corners of his mouth up so hard his dimples dug deep.
He jerked his chin at me.
“Guess if your head’s bad, your body has to work harder.”
“Not these days. No—these days, even if your head works hard, your body can’t be bad.”
“You’re really saying pessimistic stuff in front of a kid?”
I smiled.
Then looked down at my niece clinging to my leg.
“….”
I almost reached out to pat her head.
I clenched my fist instead, hard enough to drain the color from my knuckles.
Did I have the right to do that?
No. I didn’t.
My niece, Na-eun.
In my previous life…
After Hunter Seo Boseok’s death, I deliberately avoided meeting her.
When I secretly went to her entrance ceremony, she was wearing a school uniform. Now she’s barely a baby…
A dull ache pulsed in my chest.
The reason I avoided her was simple—and cowardly.
I couldn’t bear to face her.
Even if my brother’s death wasn’t my fault, the weight of guilt pressed down on my heart like molten lead. Hunter Seo Boseok had thrown himself into his work out of inertia—because of me.
The man who suddenly showed up at the orphanage claiming to be my half-brother… said he’d pay all my college tuition.
Back then, my brother wasn’t even awakened yet. Hunter Seo Boseok hadn’t existed in the public eye for long.
That’s what made him monstrous.
In barely three years, he became the best hunter in Korea.
In other words, he dragged a half-brother—essentially a stranger—out of an orphanage and sent him through college.
While working at a factory.
“If your head’s bad, your body works harder?”
Not a chance.
My brother was a top student about to graduate from veterinary school.
And then—right at that moment—he learned of my existence.
He quit school without telling me and started earning money.
For me. Someone who might as well have been a stranger.
I didn’t learn the truth until much later.
Years passed before I finally lashed out in anger, demanding an explanation.
“Even if we’re half-brothers, we’re still brothers… you won’t accept that answer, will you? Okay, okay. I’ll tell you when I get the chance. When the time’s right.”
That chance never came.
Why?
Because of the guilt—of receiving so much devotion and never repaying it. That guilt made it impossible for me, in my previous life, to visit my niece.
“Uncleee…”
“Just pat her head once. Look how happy she is.”
My brother nudged my shoulder.
I hesitated, then reached out.
“Hehe.”
She beamed like the world was hers.
How strange.
Despite such thin blood ties, both child and father adored me to excess.
Thanks to that, the human distrust that once felt eternal—like permafrost—finally melted away.
I couldn’t see any red thread binding Na-eun and me.
Perhaps those threads only formed between awakened beings.
That was fine.
Actually—this was better.
Between my niece and me, I should be the 乙 (the one who gives), and she the 甲 (the one who receives).
I wanted to repay the debt in my heart.
Now it’s my turn to give back.
More than what I received.
And what was taken from me—I would reclaim tenfold.
I vowed that this regression would be used for something greater than merely settling old debts.
At the same time.
In the heart of Gwanghwamun, inside a towering building.
Click. Click.
The sound of dress shoes echoed across a pristinely polished corridor.
Portraits of famous hunters lined both sides like a gallery.
This was R&Y Guild—hailed as the pinnacle of Korea.
“Senior.”
Han Bi-yeol flinched as he walked.
The hunter guiding him—sharp-jawed—smirked.
“Nervous about meeting the Guild Master?”
“…You think that’s why?”
“I thought maybe after pushing all those Gate Breaks onto you yesterday and barely getting any growth, you were running away.”
Crunch.
Han Bi-yeol ground his teeth.
Calling him Senior with polite honorifics didn’t change the fact—this slit-eyed bastard was subtly looking down on him using his own performance as leverage.
“…Be grateful we’re in the guild office.”
“Oh my, I’ll be careful. I’m sorry, Senior!”
The heat already boiling in his head spiked further.
“And did you hear? That standby team who was supposed to join you at Hangju Bridge? Turns out they ran into Hunter Seo on the way. Tried to run, got caught, grilled, and chewed out hard.”
“I expected that.”
“Seriously, Hunter Seo… Does he even know? That his upright personality makes him a target.”
“Hey.”
Han Bi-yeol stopped.
The slit-eyed hunter slowly turned.
“Got something to say?”
“We’re here to cancel the Seo Hunter job. To apologize because things got complicated.”
“Right.”
“You still laughing?”
The slit eyes opened slightly.
“Hunter Seo this, Hunter Seo that—but are you the one holding the blade? That man became Korea’s strongest hunter in just three years. Tomorrow he’s stronger than today.”
“I know.”
“Then stop acting up.”
The eyes twitched.
Then flattened again.
“Haha. Thank you for the guidance!”
“…Slimy bastard.”
Though shameless, the slit-eyed hunter survived through excellent politicking. Everyone knew he was rotten inside—but they let it slide. Plenty of juniors were worse.
As they resumed walking—
“Hey.”
Han Bi-yeol asked quietly.
“You still meeting with association staff?”
“Occasionally. We’re practically family.”
“Then you’ve heard about second awakenings.”
The slit-eyed hunter tilted his head.
“Through connections. Rare in Korea, though. Still, I know more than most domestically.”
“Then overseas cases of second awakenings… abilities that—”
Han Bi-yeol choked.
Even saying it felt absurd.
“…abilities that cause instant death. Have there been any?”
That word had haunted him all night.
Seo Wonseok.
Definitely related by blood to Seo Boseok.
That alone was shocking.
But more disturbing was—
“Execution.”
One word—and the goblin horde was annihilated.
Witnesses and experts dismissed it as the natural conclusion of a Gate Break.
Han Bi-yeol thought otherwise.
That was the luxury of outsiders.
That… was his ability.
What kind of ability?
He’d tormented himself all night to reach one conclusion.
“Instant death?”
The slit-eyed hunter blinked.
“Senior.”
“…Don’t tell me—”
“Did you hit your head yesterday?”
Han Bi-yeol clenched the hilt of his curved blade.
After handing Na-eun off to LEGO duty, my brother quietly closed the bedroom door.
Click.
He lingered with his hand on the latch.
“Hoo…”
Only then did he let out a sigh of relief.
I laughed quietly.
“If people knew Korea’s top hunter is helpless against a four-year-old, what would they say?”
“Do you know the weight of being a parent? Honestly.”
He sat down heavily on the floor.
LEGO pieces rattled.
“Anyway.”
His gaze sharpened.
I thought he’d ask about yesterday.
Instead—
“Your body.”
“What did the doctor say?”
My condition came first.
As always—painfully altruistic.
“…Anemia.”
I wasn’t fully sorted out myself.
If I spoke carelessly, his gaze might change.
With fraud cases involving transformation awakeners on the rise, caution was necessary.
“Anemia? You?”
“That’s what I said.”
“…Then maybe it’s an aftereffect of second awakening.”
He naturally reached that conclusion.
For now, it was the most reasonable one.
I nodded, guilt gnawing at me.
“You knew.”
“How could I not?”
He didn’t pry further.
Probably shocked—but among awakened, there was an unspoken rule:
Never ask about another’s abilities.
Hunter society was stitched together like a patchwork sock—temporary fixes everywhere.
Distrust was its foundation.
He’s keeping the rule… even with me.
It stung, but I chose to see it as consideration.
“Yesterday’s Gate Break had countless witnesses.”
“News… articles?”
“You were hospitalized. Look.”
He handed me his phone.
Just typing Hangju Bridge flooded the screen.
One headline stood out.
[Exclusive] Hangju Bridge—The “Meeting” of Two A-Rank Hunters
Reporter: Gi Ja-ryeong
A title wildly off-point—and therefore powerful.
She hadn’t changed at all.
Despite the sensational title, the article wasn’t about my brother or Han Bi-yeol.
It was about me.
