Chapter 12: A Sister’s Fury, A Brother’s Secret

While chaos erupted all around them, Shin Ji-ho was…

“Quit being a Hunter and come home, right now!”

…enduring the incessant nagging of his older sister.

Shin Ji-hye, Shin Ji-ho’s older sister, was a C-rank support Hunter and the vice-guild master of Cheongram.

While her abilities as a Hunter were unremarkable, no one in the Hunter industry dared to disregard her.

Originally, Shin Ji-hye had been an employee at Cheongram. However, two and a half years prior, she had awakened by a stroke of serendipity.

The moment she acquired her C-rank Hunter license post-awakening, Shin Ji-hye swiftly resigned from her previous occupation and founded the Cheongram Guild.

Currently, the operational structure of numerous guilds was predicated on Shin Ji-hye’s innovative approach. She had played a pivotal role in establishing the global Hunter Association, and countless unwritten rules within the Hunter industry had also sprung from her astute ideas.

She had thwarted the relentless scrutiny directed at Joo Yi-won from all sides and, overcoming numerous objections, orchestrated his promotion to SS-rank. Once Joo Yi-won became an SS-rank Hunter, Shin Ji-hye leveraged his capabilities to perfection.

Indeed, Shin Ji-hye’s contributions were just as instrumental as Joo Yi-won’s in Cheongram’s ascension to the world’s foremost guild.

Consequently, Shin Ji-hye had become the most renowned among C-rank Hunters. She was an idol to many, embodying the aspirations of lower-ranked Hunters.

Shin Ji-hye adeptly capitalized on her public recognition. She meticulously cultivated an image as a decisive and cool-headed leader. This wasn’t challenging, as her actual personality was remarkably cold and rational, often described as composed.

In fact, guild members operating under Shin Ji-hye’s command within the Cheongram Guild had rarely witnessed her losing composure. Regardless of the urgency, Shin Ji-hye consistently demonstrated the ability to make calm and rational judgments.

Yet, the Shin Ji-hye before them now bore little resemblance to her usual cool-headed and rational self.

And understandably so, for she had spent several agonizing hours believing her younger brother was gone.

Shin Ji-ho, who frequently suffered from inexplicable ailments, had always been the Shin family’s tender spot. As the much younger, late-born sibling, the considerable age gap made him feel almost like a child to them.

Three years prior, when Shin Ji-ho had collapsed from an unknown cause and remained unconscious for two years, the household had been shrouded in an atmosphere of mourning. Upon his awakening, Shin Ji-hye had even shed tears of profound relief, a first in her life.

As such a delicate child, it was her sister’s heartfelt desire to raise him gently. She had desperately wanted to dissuade him from pursuing a Hunter’s path, yet his will was so unyielding that she had no choice but to reluctantly grant her permission.

Until Ji-ho’s survival was confirmed, Shin Ji-hye had been half-crazed with worry. Even now, seeing him alive and moving, her heart still thrummed with anxious unease.

Watching her shout in exasperation, then finally wipe away the tears that welled in her eyes, Ji-ho quietly lowered his head.

“It’s a mercy Mom doesn’t know; if she did, she would have collapsed. She was already shocked just hearing you made it out safely. And public opinion right now is… *ha*, didn’t you promise you wouldn’t worry Mom anymore?”

“I’m sorry, Noona. But…”

“What do you mean, ‘but’!”

“No, but I really did get a powerful skill, you know?”

“Quiet! Unless it’s as powerful as *his*, just come home!”

Having flared up and shouted, Shin Ji-hye promptly clamped her mouth shut when she saw Shin Ji-ho’s face suddenly darken.

In Ji-hye’s memories, Yi-won and Ji-ho had always been inseparable, like two halves of a whole. Like any children their age, they fought fiercely but reconciled just as quickly, only to squabble again and play together countless times a day.

A subtle spark of rivalry ignited between them when they entered middle school, driven by academic competition. Ji-ho, perpetually outranked in grades, even avoided Yi-won during a particularly sensitive phase. Still, after about a year, they were back to their familiar bickering and constant companionship.

Their old rivalry had been mere childish squabbles, and since both had ultimately achieved good results, she had watched them with fond amusement. However…

Now, with Ji-ho in such a regrettable predicament, she had no choice but to mind her words.

“That one” — Joo Yi-won, who had been silently observing the conversation from the side — finally interjected to stop Shin Ji-hye.

“Hunter Shin Ji-hye, please, step back for now…”

“Right now, Joo Yi-won, I’m here as Ji-ho’s noona, not as Cheongram’s vice-guild master.”

“…Ji-hye Noona, I’ll speak to Ji-ho myself. You know how busy things are with the guild, don’t you?”

Joo Yi-won’s tone, as he stepped forward undeterred, was impeccably polite, yet the look he gave her was distinctly akin to issuing an order.

After glaring at her guild master for a brief moment, Shin Ji-hye roughly rubbed her face.

The Joo Yi-won of her childhood had been playful yet affectionate. Aware that he was living under their roof, he would grow close to the family, only to regrettably pull back at crucial moments.

But now, having awakened as a Hunter, he had transformed entirely.

Joo Yi-won now regarded all others as insignificant.

This wasn’t the arrogance of one intoxicated by their own power, disdainfully looking down on others. Instead, it was the composed air of someone who had long reigned supreme, akin to how one might deal with the head of a rival corporation. Yet, it was inconceivable for Joo Yi-won, only twenty-four this year, to have suddenly acquired such seasoned gravitas.

Shin Ji-hye surmised that this impression stemmed from the sheer overwhelming presence of an SS-rank Hunter.

Regardless, Yi-won was correct. There was simply no time to linger here.

A dungeon manifesting in the heart of a city was, without question, modern society’s gravest catastrophe.

Once a dungeon materialized, it didn’t vanish instantly; the gate persisted in the same location.

While it was said that there would be no issue if it were periodically cleared, no one relished living beside a potential bomb, even if it seemed safe for the moment.

Noname, a minor guild thoroughly entangled in this incident, found it exceedingly difficult to mount an adequate response.

Ordinarily, she refrained from interfering in his guild affairs as her brother preferred it that way, but this time, Ji-ho himself had sought her assistance. Naturally, Shin Ji-hye was more than willing to help.

“Haa, alright… I suppose I should go. I am busy, after all.”

Ultimately, Shin Ji-hye conceded defeat. With a troubled gaze, she let her intimidating aura dissipate and approached Ji-ho. She then gently embraced her brother, who merely blinked, bewildered by his noona’s actions.

“Regardless… you did well clearing your first dungeon.”

“Oh, uh… thanks.”

“Rest well for now, and seriously consider quitting as a Hunter and returning home.”

“I’ll just rest for now.”

“Ugh…”

Shin Ji-hye, who had been delivering veiled threats until the very end, shook her head and exited the hospital room. Soon, the sound of her brisk footsteps receded into the distance.

****

Once they were alone, Yi-won settled onto the edge of the bed where Ji-ho lay.

As Ji-ho subtly recoiled, Yi-won pressed even closer. Then, before Ji-ho could even react, he pulled him into a crushing embrace.

“Wh-what is this?”

“You hugged Noona, didn’t you? Hug me too.”

“Are you and Noona the same? Get away…”

Ji-ho’s hand, which had been pushing him away in utter disgust, suddenly froze.

Yi-won’s body, which had appeared perfectly fine moments ago, was now trembling. He shook weakly, like someone abruptly cast into the heart of a frigid winter.

Even his own sister, a blood relative, hadn’t trembled to this extent after confirming Ji-ho’s survival…

As Ji-ho hesitated, his hand suspended in the air, unable to properly push him away, Yi-won snatched his hovering hand. Yi-won then brazenly wrapped the captured hand around his own waist, pulling Ji-ho into another tight embrace.

Ji-ho, caught off guard, instinctively gripped Yi-won’s waist with one hand, then, with a slight, hesitant squeeze, returned the embrace. In response, Yi-won’s arms tightened even more fiercely.

‘This bastard is unbelievably strong…’

Anyone observing them might assume a deceased lover had miraculously returned. Though Ji-ho felt Yi-won was overreacting, he quietly leaned into the embrace, listening to the wild thrumming of Yi-won’s heart.

They weren’t lovers, but they were as close as brothers.

While they had never embraced this tightly before, they had shared countless casual shoulder-grabs. Given that Ji-ho had just narrowly escaped death, this level of physical contact was, perhaps, tolerable.

The two remained locked in that embrace for a considerable time.

Five minutes, or perhaps even ten…

Ji-ho, his patience finally wearing thin and finding it hard to breathe from Yi-won’s overly tight grip, tapped his arm.

“Hey, that’s enough…”

“…”

“I can’t breathe.”

“Huu…”

Yi-won exhaled a sigh onto Ji-ho’s neck, then slowly, reluctantly, pulled away.

Goosebumps prickled where Yi-won’s breath had touched his skin. As Ji-ho rubbed his neck, Yi-won, uncharacteristically for someone who usually carried himself with impeccable posture, awkwardly perched on the very edge of the bed.

The intense gaze Yi-won fixed on Ji-ho was unfamiliar, causing Ji-ho to offer an awkward laugh.

“Hey, it’s not like I actually died…”

“You almost did.”

“But I didn’t, so it’s fine… Don’t overreact. Now, get down.”

“Ji-ho.”

“What?”

To Ji-ho’s sulky retort, Yi-won whispered softly, almost coaxingly.

“You said you got a skill.”

“Yeah.”

“What kind of skill? Seon Tae-woong said he became several times stronger thanks to the skill you used.”

“…It’s exactly as he said.”

“Saying it like that doesn’t tell me what kind of skill it is.”

The low, persistent gaze was probing, and though his voice was gentle, the interrogative atmosphere made Ji-ho frown.

‘How much should I tell him?’

He had no intention of revealing everything about his skills. It was generally more advantageous for Hunters to keep some things hidden rather than lay all their cards on the table.

Of course, Yi-won wasn’t someone Ji-ho needed to compete with. Nor was he the type to carelessly blab secrets.

Still, Ji-ho didn’t want to disclose everything. After a moment’s thought, he decided to be vague.

“I gained a skill that strengthens others, not myself.”

“So you escaped the dungeon thanks to your skill?”

“Well, something like that… I think it could be quite useful.”

In truth, Ji-ho hadn’t gained just one skill. Pretending to look away, Ji-ho glanced to the side and summoned the system.

A series of rectangular windows, invisible to others, floated in the air. From them, Ji-ho brought up the list of his skills.

[information]

[Stabilization (Lv.1)]

[information]

[Star’s Blessing (Lv.1)]

[information]

[First Baptism (Lv.1)]

[information]

[Sphere of Absorption (Lv.1)]

[information]

[Water Affinity Enhancement (Lv.10)]

[information]

[Anchor Star’s Guidance (Lv.1)]

[information]

[Understanding (Lv.1)]

[information]

[Happy Prince (Lv.6)]

[information]

[Magic Resistance (Lv.2)]

[information]

[■■■■■ ■■ (Lv.10)]

After deactivating Stabilization, his existing physical enhancement skill disappeared. However, the loss of one enhancement skill was hardly a problem.

Instead, he had acquired several skills of S-rank or higher.

Even EX-rank skills, beyond S-rank, that he had never heard of before.

Of course, there were a few skills of utterly unknown nature mixed in, but the skill list was so dazzling that he didn’t even care about just one mysterious entry.

Furthermore,

[status]

[There have been changes in your stats due to skill usage.]