Chapter 13: Two Resentments

Lee Hyun-su had stepped away for a moment, unable to hold his physiological needs any longer. For this, he was utterly lambasted.

This relentless scolding continued for almost an entire week.

‘What exactly is your job?’ Sagyeol had demanded. ‘Isn’t it just to follow me around and attend to my needs? Is that so difficult? This is dereliction of duty, a salary theft! Do you really think you’ll be safe after simply taking my money?’

Sagyeol, wearing a disarmingly cheerful smile, slowly drained Lee Hyun-su’s spirit.

“Please, just stop,” Lee Hyun-su pleaded, his face visibly drawn.

Sagyeol merely sneered, “What, surrendering already? We’ve barely begun.”

Lee Hyun-su swallowed the sigh that threatened to escape. He knew, with absolute certainty, that if he dared to exhale it, Sagyeol would retort, ‘Oh, a sigh, is it?’ It was better to remain silent.

“But I already resolved the issue, didn’t I? How many days has it been now? Seriously, how much longer are you going to torment me?”

“Hmm. Until Kim Cheol-su gives in, perhaps?”

Lee Hyun-su’s face twisted into a grimace.

“Even though I’ve already resolved everything and meticulously followed all your subsequent orders?!”

The minor misstep regarding his bodily functions was just that—a momentary lapse. Fundamentally, Lee Hyun-su was exceptionally capable. Moreover, he had the formidable backing of Grisha. He swiftly resolved the entry restriction, allowing Sagyeol unfettered access to Kim Cheol-su’s hospital room from that point on.

Sagyeol’s excuse was always meals. Each day at lunchtime, he would arrive with shopping bags overflowing with enough food to last Kim Cheol-su until dinner.

“Yep.”

Lee Hyun-su clutched the back of his neck, exasperated by Sagyeol’s utterly nonchalant response.

Sagyeol chuckled, yet his eyes held a cold, contemplative gaze as he sank into thought. His initial impression of the man had been: ‘He’s no pushover.’

The simplest way to draw him out would be to engage him in conversation, yet his taciturn nature proved a significant hurdle. And his expression? It remained consistently neutral, never betraying any hint of emotion.

Sagyeol had even risked incurring his displeasure by attempting to close the distance, but it yielded no discernible effect.

While Sagyeol had outwardly chided Joo Jae-yeong for his unwelcome intrusion, he had inwardly celebrated. He reasoned that a shift in circumstances would inevitably provoke a change in the man’s reactions. He had tried to exploit this to create an opening, to find a way in, but ultimately failed. In the end, he had even been unceremoniously ejected.

Standing alone and forlorn outside the hospital room door, Sagyeol narrowed his eyes into a smile. ‘Damn it.’

Regardless of his relentless badgering of Lee Hyun-su, Sagyeol had already braced himself for a protracted battle.

“Ah, yes, about that report I asked for earlier. What’s its status?”

Lee Hyun-su, taking a deep breath to regulate his rising blood pressure, retrieved a file and handed it to Sagyeol.

“Is this it?”

The slim file Sagyeol held, idly flapping it, was the culmination of Lee Hyun-su’s arduous efforts over several days. In this remote, underdeveloped city, he had been ‘grated like a potato on a grater,’ painstakingly compiling every scrap of information on Joo Jae-yeong.

Witnessing his diligent work treated with such utter disregard made Lee Hyun-su’s stomach clench, a bitter ache despite having eaten nothing.

“It’s as insubstantial as its paltry thickness. I expected something impressive from someone so arrogant, but he’s merely the youngest son of a city councilor and a C-rank Hunter? And ‘Head of the Hunter Association’s Post-Processing Department’ or whatever that is—seems like entirely superfluous information, wouldn’t you agree?”

“In Baekdam, that’s a respectable resume, one that would leave no room for envy.”

“Hyun-su, it seems you haven’t been sufficiently chastised yet.”

“My apologies. It’s merely a habit. Please, just this once, overlook it.”

Having been thoroughly berated, Lee Hyun-su spoke with a solemn expression.

Sagyeol let out a faint chuckle.

“Alright. Just do better next time.”

At last, the words he had longed to hear escaped Sagyeol’s lips. Only then did Lee Hyun-su finally release the breath he had been holding, a profound sigh.

“Oh, a sigh, is it?”

Lee Hyun-su remained silent.

The presence of his resignation letter, always meticulously folded and kept safe in his inner chest pocket, felt particularly salient today.

“Go on, turn on the screen. Let’s see what our little darling is up to.”

Sagyeol was a man so formidable that merely placing a toy gun in his hand would conjure images of a blood-soaked battlefield. Yet, he referred to Kim Cheol-su as ‘our little darling.’ Lee Hyun-su found Sagyeol’s unwavering fixation on ‘returnees’ confirmed in the most peculiar ways. Was it truly possible that, in his eyes, even a monstrous being could appear as a cherished pet if he believed it to be a returnee?

Lee Hyun-su operated the terminal. The presidential suite’s office promptly dimmed, and a large screen materialized on the opposite wall, displaying twelve split views. Six panels showed a bustling hospital, teeming with patients and nurses, while the remaining six offered an unobstructed, silent view of a single, private room.

“The cameras appear to be functioning perfectly, but there seems to be an issue with the audio feed. Not a single sound is being captured.”

“Then it’s perfectly normal.”

Lee Hyun-su offered no reply.

Lee Hyun-su gazed at the man on the screen with a renewed sense of surprise. He had never encountered anyone so utterly devoid of speech, nor anyone so inorganic in their demeanor. The man felt less like a living person and more like an inanimate object.

Despite the man’s undeniable strangeness and peculiarity, Lee Hyun-su firmly believed he was not a returnee.

Returnees were not so easily discovered. With the stabilization of city-states and the widespread adoption of gate conquest strategies, it had become exceedingly rare for anyone to be caught in a gate and cast into the Demon Realm. Even in those rare instances, the chances of adapting to such a hostile environment were astronomically low. To then, against all odds, return to the Mortal Realm? It was an almost impossible feat.

One hundred and twenty years had passed since the gates first opened, yet even after scouring the entire world, the number of recorded returnees in history remained remarkably small.

‘He’s probably just a case with a complicated backstory,’ Lee Hyun-su mused. ‘The report of him being A-rank couldn’t have been a mistake. He must be deliberately concealing his true A-rank status, pretending to be F-rank.’

While it was rare for hunters to conceal their very identity as hunters, it was quite common for them to misrepresent their rank. Lee Hyun-su believed this man to be precisely that type. The most compelling evidence was the absence of an ID chip in his body.

Though unaware of the full story, Lee Hyun-su was certain the man had intended to acquire a new ID, embrace a new rank, and forge a new life.

“Here.”

Sagyeol drew something from his pocket. A small, transparent zip-lock bag dangling between his thumb and forefinger, containing several strands of black hair that clearly belonged to someone.

“I am certain he is, and you are certain he isn’t. So, it wouldn’t hurt to resolve this definitively right now.”

“And when, pray tell, did you acquire this?”

“Take this and return to Grisha immediately.”

“Pardon me?!”

“I already told you. Let’s settle this for good. If he truly is that old man, he’s undoubtedly left biometric data in the cloud. Find it, cross-reference it. If he matches any of those records—”

No matter how improbable or illogical it seemed, the man would undeniably be a returnee. Lee Hyun-su fell silent, while Sagyeol offered a languid smile.

“And while you’re there, you might as well take care of some of my duties as well.”

“What utter nonsense are you spouting? You want me to leave a ticking time bomb here, one that could detonate at any moment?”

Lee Hyun-su’s expression hardened.

“I have important work here, work that is crucial for the future of this city.”

Sagyeol lifted his chin, an air of self-importance about him.

“This is the most rational approach. And you, of all people, should know that I’m perfectly suited for this kind of task, shouldn’t you? What defines an expert, after all? If you’re damn good at something, that makes you the expert.”

Lee Hyun-su remained silent.

It was undeniably true, yet Sagyeol was insufferable.

After glancing at the floor, then the ceiling, Lee Hyun-su ultimately let out a heavy sigh before speaking.

“Promise me it won’t explode.”

“I swear on my mother’s name, I’ll do my utmost.”

When Sagyeol presented such a response, there was simply no arguing. Lee Hyun-su sighed once more, then took the strands of hair from him.

Sagyeol checked the time on his terminal.

“It’s about time for visiting hours, isn’t it?”

He stretched luxuriously, like a feline predator. His sturdy arms extended high above his head, his back arched, and his chest expanded. He seemed inexplicably thrilled.

‘His eyes look strange. Is it due to fatigue? Perhaps I should start taking lutein.’

“There’s a restaurant here, isn’t there? Go get some lunch packed. For two… no, make that three people. Steak would be ideal.”

“If you’re ordering from the hotel’s affiliated restaurant, couldn’t you just have them pack and deliver it?”

“You go fetch it.”

Lee Hyun-su did not ask ‘Why?’ Instead, he placed the order with the weary expression of a man resigned to his cursed salaried life.

The moment Lee Hyun-su left to retrieve the steaks, Sagyeol operated his terminal. The recipient answered before the call could even ring a few times.

[Yes, XX Hotel—]

“I’m the one who just ordered steak. I’d like to place an additional order. Ten servings of steak.”

[…Pardon me?]

“If possible, I’d prefer the food to take a considerable amount of time to prepare. Say… around thirty minutes? Do you understand what I mean?”

Only then did the voice on the other end change.

[Will thirty minutes suffice?]

Indeed, it seemed all the world’s most unsavory dealings transpired in luxury hotels. Sagyeol merely twisted his lips into a smirk as he replied, “More than thirty minutes would be even better.”

[Understood.]

The call ended. Sagyeol clasped his hands together on his knees and closed his eyes in the silence. With the annoying clingy assistant gone, his mind finally began to work.

While in Grisha, Lee Hyun-su was like an AI assistant who performed his duties flawlessly without supervision, the situation changed entirely when they ventured outside the city. As an attendant, Lee Hyun-su possessed both clear advantages and disadvantages.

Bringing him along was convenient in many ways, yet simultaneously, he monitored Sagyeol’s every move with intense vigilance. This was due to his firm belief that every incident Sagyeol caused would inevitably become his own additional workload.

‘Well, he’s not entirely wrong, but… have I really caused that much trouble?’

Sagyeol couldn’t recall anything specific. Briefly indulging in a moment of self-denial, Sagyeol refocused.

Now, what was the next move?

Lee Hyun-su was tasked with finding objective proof that Kim Cheol-su was a returnee. Therefore, it was only logical for Sagyeol to pursue confirmation directly from Kim Cheol-su himself. The challenge, however, lay in how to execute this.

‘Should I set a trap?’

The preparation was cumbersome, but based on experience, it was the most reliable and convenient method. His clasped fingers slightly unlaced, beginning to tap rhythmically on his knee.

‘What if I create a situation where he has no choice but to use his hidden powers?’

Something akin to a life-threatening scenario.

Then he recalled a very recent incident—the Spenta incident. Sagyeol clicked his tongue. At the moment he witnessed it, his body had moved before he could think, leading him to kill Spenta. But looking back, he regretted it. Such a naturally occurring crisis was rare.

“…Hmm?”

Feeling a strange sense of unease, Sagyeol opened his eyes. He unclasped his hands and rubbed his chin.

‘Now that I think about it, that’s odd.’

To confirm if someone was a returnee, it would have been better to simply observe them. Even in such an abrupt situation, he wasn’t someone who would fail to make such a basic judgment.

Yet, he had impulsively launched ice, performing an act of rescue that was entirely uncharacteristic of him.

‘Why did I really do that?’

Sagyeol pondered for quite some time but could not find an answer to the problem. Instead, an inexplicable sense of anxiety began to build within him.