Chapter 51: The Price of a Potion

Two years had passed, and Yeowon, now a seasoned employee, scanned the cafe’s interior. He had been helping with the work since Dongjun purchased the building and enthusiastically took on the interior design himself.

Dongjun had a profound interest in teacups. He had brought in an abundance of rare and exquisite teacups, whose names and origins were unknown, presenting them as interior decor.

These were placed in tall display cases lining the walls. Any remaining cups were arranged in neat rows on the tables near the counter.

Dongjun wore a look of utter contentment. His heart seemed to flutter with the hope that a customer would eventually inquire about them.

“These.”

“Aren’t they beautiful, elegant, and lovely?”

“…If only you hadn’t bought them.”

‘Then perhaps we could have afforded a proper part-timer,’ Yeowon thought, the unspoken words hanging in the air.

Having grown accustomed to Yeowon’s clipped way of speaking, Dongjun responded promptly, despite the many omissions.

“I’ve been collecting them one by one since way back. Before I became a Hunter, it was definitely a bit of a burden, but what’s the fun in life if you can’t do what you want?”

He had mentioned being a delivery driver before awakening as a Hunter. No wonder he always rushed out barefoot to greet every incoming sack of coffee beans. Yeowon nodded, understanding that this was a sentiment only someone who had experienced such hardship could truly grasp.

Of course, Dongjun’s hobby was a separate matter. To be frank, it didn’t suit him; it felt even more incongruous coming from a man who preferred coffee over tea. Weren’t they, after all, merely objects fashioned from baked clay?

“That’s precisely what’s so good about them.”

Dongjun said, gently rubbing the daffodil painted on the teacup.

“The fact that such beautiful results can come from mere earth feels hopeful, doesn’t it?”

Yeowon felt a flicker of understanding, yet one thing he was certain of: while he didn’t want to comment on Dongjun’s romantic notions, this was undeniably extravagant spending.

He warned him bluntly. What was bought was bought. However, he had enough, and further purchases should be avoided.

When Dongjun protested, calling it absurd, Yeowon shot him a look of even deeper contempt than usual. The boss, utterly devoid of authority, quickly tucked his tail between his legs.

Yeowon remained faithful to the tasks assigned to him. Once he took on a responsibility, he had no intention of doing it half-heartedly.

The hardwood floor, the ceramic dolls and artificial flowers by the window, the framed paintings on the walls. All bore the touch of Yeowon’s meticulous care. Initially, he had simply followed the catalog’s recommendations, but as he continued, he found himself discovering pieces he genuinely liked.

Chime.

The wooden door, adorned with hexagonal stained-glass panes, and the bell that chimed with every opening, were Yeowon’s most cherished items.

“Welcome.”

The day after tomorrow would mark the cafe’s exact two-year anniversary. He was struck anew by the relentless march of time.

In the early days of the opening, Yeowon hadn’t been much help. Dongjun had handled almost everything himself, making it seem as if the need for an employee was merely an excuse.

Yeowon, meanwhile, diligently learned the basics and took on cleaning and miscellaneous chores.

The cafe stabilized within three months. Around the time the cherry blossoms bloomed profusely in the lake park, it even recorded its highest sales.

Once the business was on track, the boss immediately ensured his unpaid employee received their wages. With back pay and a bonus added, it amounted to a considerable sum.

Yeowon refused. It was partly his choice, partly circumstance.

His ID was still from Baekdam. Naturally, opening an account in Grisha’s banks was impossible. He had also discarded the now-useless terminal during his fall, fearing it could be traced. The quick-witted Dongjun, after arming him with a hat and mask, led him into Grisha’s underworld.

A man who seemed utterly out of place in such an environment navigated the alleys with surprising familiarity. Amusingly, it was only then that Yeowon truly grasped that Dongjun was indeed a Hunter.

Dongjun sought out an illegal clinic disguised as a tattoo parlor, where Yeowon’s ID was extracted and a forged Grisha ID was implanted. For his first name, ‘Jin’ was chosen, the same as he used at the cafe, and for his surname, ‘Yu’ was selected simply because it sounded pretty. Thus, Kim Cheol-su became Yu Jin.

The procedure was completed in just five minutes. Dongjun then pulled out a small glass bottle and poured its contents over my wound.

“M-Madness…. A potion?”

The shop owner, who had just finished the procedure and was removing their gloves, gasped in shock. I, too, was startled. While an undeniable, subtle power emanated from it, could this truly be a potion?

This was my first time seeing one in person. I had heard that they weren’t even available for sale in Baekdam. It must, therefore, be an incredibly valuable item, even in Grisha.

“This was an item provided by the guild I was formerly a part of. Reselling it is illegal, and since I’m retired, I’ll have no use for it, so consuming it like this is probably for the best.”

It was hardly something one would expect to hear from someone so accustomed to frequenting such places. Yet, I didn’t say anything in response. Not even the thought, ‘Couldn’t he have just sold this to pay my wages?’

Dongjun, after a brief moment of hesitation, seeing no reaction from Yeowon, relievedly stepped forward to inspect the wound.

“We can’t have a scar on such pretty skin….”

“……”

Yeowon, utterly unconcerned, shook his hand vigorously.

“Ugh, what are you doing! What if the wound opens up!”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine with me.”

‘The owner of the hand says it’s fine, so why isn’t *that* fine with you?’ When Yeowon conveyed this sentiment, Dongjun made a face like a mournful puppy. With no other choice, Yeowon showed him his wrist. A potion had been used for such a minor wound. It would have been strange if it hadn’t healed perfectly.

Satisfied, Dongjun finally attended to his remaining errands. He purchased a burner terminal, causing the shop owner, who had secretly clicked their tongue at Dongjun’s strangely extravagant spending, to beam and exclaim, ‘Thank you, customer!’

Having completed the account setup, Dongjun transferred the money. Yeowon, who had been intently watching the scene, then slowly opened his mouth.

“It’s done.”

“What is?”

“My wages. You don’t have to give them to me.”

The owner looked at Yeowon as if he were the strangest thing in the world. Dongjun, as if he had expected this, shook his head with a stern expression.

“I don’t want to be reported for unfair contracts or being an unscrupulous business owner.”

“I won’t report—”

“Not just you, but customers might.”

“……?”

‘Why would customers report me?’ Yeowon thought.

“What will you do if someone asks? You’re terribly bad at lying.”

“……”

Left with nothing to say, Yeowon ultimately accepted his wages without further protest.

****

‘…I shouldn’t have done that,’ he thought.

Chime.

“Is our employee working hard?”

Speak of the devil, Dongjun appeared. The boss, who had grown complacent since the first paycheck, poked his head in. It was almost closing time. Yeowon greeted him with a chillingly blank expression and silence.

“Just curse at me. Every time you look at me like that, I feel like the most disgusting bug in the world.”

Yeowon conveyed his meaning silently, with only his eyes.

‘Should I step on it? The bug.’

Dongjun flinched, visibly shrinking.

“I’ll buy you dinner. Want to have meat for the first time in a while?”

“……”

“How about some sizzling samgyeopsal on the grill!”

“……”

“I’m sorry. I was wrong. Please forgive me just this once, and I’ll never do it again.”

Only when the cafe’s atmosphere felt as if snow might fall inside at any moment did Dongjun finally plead profusely. Yeowon sighed.

“Just this once.”

“Thank you. I will truly serve you without fail.”

Dongjun, bowing obsequiously, helped with the cafe’s closing.

“I’ll handle the rest. Go change and come out.”

Nodding, Yeowon turned and walked behind the counter. Behind the long, flowing black curtain, a short hallway and a door awaited.

Opening the door revealed a small entryway, leading into a studio apartment roughly the same size as the cafe. This explained why the interior felt cramped, despite occupying the entire single-story building.

It had originally been a combination of a break room and a storage area, now remodeled. This renovation occurred around the time Yeowon had been staying at Dongjun’s home for nearly a year.

Dongjun had told Yeowon that he would live here from now on, and Yeowon should continue to use Dongjun’s house. Yeowon was dumbfounded.

Even for the usually impassive Yeowon, this was something he couldn’t simply overlook. When Yeowon pressed him with a hardened expression, Dongjun, after some hesitation, spoke.

“It’s not because I’m uncomfortable with you being in my house. So, I hope you don’t misunderstand.”

There was no trace of his usual composure or playfulness. Instead, he stammered, uncharacteristically hesitant.

“In a way, it *is* uncomfortable, but it’s my problem, not yours.”

He couldn’t even meet Yeowon’s gaze. Having spent a year working part-time at the cafe in Grisha, Yeowon had developed a keen sense for such things and roughly understood what the problem was.

Simultaneously, he saw a youthful yearning in Dongjun’s eyes as he looked at him.

‘When did it start? What was the catalyst?’ Yeowon pondered, meaningless questions swirling in his mind.

Out loud, however, he uttered words that left no room for negotiation.

“Then I’ll stay here.”

“Otherwise, I’ll quit the cafe.”

“……”

Dongjun said nothing. He merely bit his lip, his expression filled with profound regret.