Chapter 35: Ifrit’s Protection

The very first thought that struck me was this:

‘It’s all so futile.’

Utterly futile.

I had barely begun to achieve something, only for it to end so meaninglessly.

I’d finally cleared an S-rank dungeon, acquired new skills, and even managed to turn public opinion in my favor. Was I truly going to die just as I was about to properly achieve something?

At the very least, it would have been better if I could have saved someone before dying.

“…”

Yet, for someone who was supposedly dead, wasn’t I thinking far too calmly?

A sudden flash of realization jolted Shin Ji-ho, and his eyes snapped open.

“■■ ■■■!”

As his muffled hearing returned, the monster’s shriek, chattering in an incomprehensible language, assaulted Ji-ho’s eardrums. The creature was clutching its severed arm, screaming in agony.

He couldn’t fathom what had just transpired.

The very arm that had pierced Ji-ho’s chest was now horribly mangled, as if struck by an explosion, only half of it remaining. It was as if the monster, not Ji-ho, had been the one under attack.

‘Had I not been attacked?’

He distinctly remembered the agonizing pain of his heart being impaled.

Startled by the utterly illogical situation, Ji-ho dazedly looked down at his own chest. His clothes were torn wide open, as if a hole had been blasted through them. These remnants proved it was no mere illusion.

Just then, a skill window materialized before Ji-ho’s eyes.

[Information]

[Ifrit’s Protection (Lv.10)]

This was the very skill that had been strangely obscured, completely hidden from view, and now it pulsed with light as if newly activated.

‘Ifrit’s Protection?’

Had he survived, not died, thanks to this ‘protection’ skill, whatever it was? He hoped for a more detailed explanation, but…

[Information]

[■■■■■ ■■ (Lv.10)]

The window flickered as if riddled with static, and soon even the visible text became obscured once more.

Though curious, he had no time to ponder. Instead of dwelling on it, Ji-ho moved instantly. While the monster was currently incapacitated by pain, it would undoubtedly rampage even more ferociously once it recovered its senses.

Stairs and elevators were both unusable. The escape routes were blocked.

Moreover, even if he managed to escape, Bangbae Station wouldn’t be entirely deserted on a weekday night.

If he fled outside and happened upon a combat-oriented Awakened person passing by, he might be able to empower them with his skill to fight the monster.

But what if he couldn’t rely on such luck? Civilian casualties would be inevitable.

Having made his decision, Ji-ho lifted his head. And then, he was utterly astonished.

The very ghost he had recalled just moments ago, the one he used to see frequently, was now standing near the guild’s entrance.

‘Why is it appearing now, after being absent for so long?’

Standing still, the ghost beckoned to him.

‘A ghost is still a ghost, I suppose.’

Given that it seemed to be leading him towards death, it clearly wasn’t a benevolent spirit.

Even knowing it was a perilous path, Ji-ho didn’t hesitate, following the ghost’s gesture into the guild’s interior for refuge. Seeking shelter where the barrier was present seemed the safest option for now. Of course, given the monster’s power, he knew the barrier wouldn’t last long.

The moment he closed and locked the door, the monster immediately lunged at it. Its wildly agitated eyes gleamed with a murderous intent, clearly determined to kill Ji-ho.

*Crash, crash.*

With each thunderous punch, the expensive barrier began to tear apart. The ghost that had appeared before Ji-ho had vanished without a trace.

Ji-ho quickly took a photo of the monster, which was almost perfectly human in form. Even if he were to die, the picture of the monster he had just taken would automatically be backed up to the server.

By examining its human-like form and attire, and then reviewing nearby CCTV footage, authorities could be warned that a monster mimicking a human was roaming the streets.

Ji-ho checked the time. Though it felt like an eternity, barely three minutes had passed since he made the report.

No matter how quickly reinforcements arrived, Ji-ho’s chances of survival until then were slim.

At least he could ensure the monster’s information was fully disseminated.

The moment he found solace in that small thought, the barrier completely shattered. While he had abandoned any hope of survival, he had no intention of dying meekly.

If he were to die here without a fight, the monster might escape, rampage outside, and cause further casualties.

With the intention of buying as much time as possible until other hunters arrived, Ji-ho clenched his fists.

However, just then.

*Fzzzt!*

A tremendous surge of magical energy vibrated with a deafening crackle. Then, an even more potent barrier enveloped the office, which had just seen its previous barrier utterly destroyed.

Ji-ho dazedly scanned his surroundings.

The entire lobby glowed, bathed in a brilliant golden light. It was as bright as the sun, yet being a light forged from magic, it wasn’t impossible to discern.

The entity emitting the light and creating this formidable barrier was none other than the rose.

The very rose Joo Yi-won had gifted him, which had continuously adorned the guild’s lobby.

The rose seemed to respond to its own magic, growing steadily larger. Its ordinary stem thickened into a trunk-like form, rooting itself deeply into the floor, while its fist-sized blossoms burst open like sunflowers, radiating an intense fragrance.

Upon discovering the new barrier, the monster recoiled in evident panic. Any part of its body that had momentarily touched the barrier was now hideously charred.

“What… what did he give me?”

“He gave it to you precisely because he anticipated something like this.”

From within the guild office, where he was certain he had been alone, an unfamiliar yet recognizable voice echoed.

Doubting his sanity, Ji-ho turned his head.

“Shin Ji-ho.”

Standing there was Joo Yi-won, who was undeniably supposed to be in Australia. The eyes of the man who usually wore a carefree smile now gleamed fiercely with a golden light.

And beside Joo Yi-won stood Hwang Hye-rim, an S-rank Spatial Mage.

With her, traveling from Australia wouldn’t have been difficult, but how did they even know to come here?

As Ji-ho pondered, his gaze fell upon the rose. The plant Joo Yi-won had given him, perhaps connected to Yi-won himself.

‘Did he sense I was in danger and come?’

It was a reckless act on Yi-won’s part, but regardless, Ji-ho had never been so glad to see him.

Yi-won turned his glowing eyes, fixing them directly on the monster. The creature, which had been thrashing and screaming as if trying to escape, was instantly torn apart before it could do anything.

…Along with a section of the building.

Joo Yi-won’s immense magical power had ripped both the monster and the building apart.

“Hey, if you just destroy it like that…”

The monster wasn’t just split in two; it was practically pulverized. Though it was a brutal death, there was no sense of gruesome horror. Nothing remained that was even visible to the eye.

Monsters capable of transforming into human-like forms were subjects requiring research. They should have captured it, or at least preserved some samples…

“Shin Ji-ho.”

Ji-ho flinched at the chillingly sharp voice. Yi-won glared at him with a harshness he had never heard before, his gaze fixed specifically on Ji-ho’s tattered clothes.

“Are you hurt?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just a graze…”

“A mere graze wouldn’t look like this.”

Even with Ji-ho’s reflexive excuse, Yi-won cut him off with an angry voice.

Words like ‘What does it matter to you?’ or ‘It’s really nothing, don’t overreact,’ swirled in his mouth but couldn’t escape. Any other time, he would have retorted without hesitation, but he knew that without Yi-won, he would have been dead or at least severely wounded.

A profoundly awkward silence settled between them. It was the first time such an atmosphere had arisen between him and Yi-won.

The suffocating silence was broken by a third party. Hwang Hye-rim, who had accompanied Yi-won, approached the two men. With a weary expression, Hye-rim looked at Yi-won.

“Mr. Yi-won, shouldn’t we head back now? We can take Mr. Shin Ji-ho to a nearby hospital and then…”

“I’m not going.”

“What?”

“Ah, I thought as much.”

Unlike the startled Shin Ji-ho, Hwang Hye-rim responded nonchalantly, as if she had fully expected it. With a relaxed demeanor that seemed out of place given the situation, Hye-rim asked Ji-ho,

“Mr. Shin Ji-ho, did you happen to report this?”

“Yes. I did earlier, but…”

Hye-rim nodded at Ji-ho’s reply. Then, shrugging her shoulders, she gazed out the window, where the view was slightly distorted by the barrier.

“They’re arriving quickly. Shall I handle the aftermath then?”

“Please do.”

“I’ll be charging a hefty fee for this.”

“As you wish.”

Joo Yi-won and Hwang Hye-rim whispered among themselves, quickly reaching a conclusion. As soon as his rapid conversation with Hye-rim ended, Yi-won scooped Ji-ho into his arms. There was no time to be embarrassed by the awkward position, as all the tension had left his body, leaving him utterly weak.

When Hye-rim used her unique skill to create a spatial transfer portal, Yi-won calmly walked towards it. Ji-ho, belatedly regaining his senses, began to struggle.

“No, wait… Hey, you’re supposed to be clearing the dungeon in Australia!”

“It’s fine. The vice-guildmaster will handle it. Right now, you’re my priority.”

“Uh, I mean, thanks for saving me, but… I’m fine now, aren’t I?”

“You’re not fine.”

“No, I am.”

Yi-won glanced down at Ji-ho, his gaze fierce and accusatory. Even without using a skill, Yi-won’s eyes still flickered with a golden light, an imposing sight.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Shut up and stay still.”

Yi-won snapped harshly. It was more than just a command; it was a blatant display of condescension, yet Ji-ho was more angered by Yi-won’s current actions than his tone.

“Do I look like I’d stay still?! Do you want to get cursed out too?”

A Korean hunter abandoning their post during an Australian dungeon raid? While it would be a problem for any ordinary hunter, for Joo Yi-won, whose every move was scrutinized, it would cause an even greater uproar.

The current media was favorable towards Joo Yi-won. However, when someone who has consistently performed well makes a mistake, that mistake is highlighted far more than if it were made by someone accustomed to failure.

The memories of the past year flashed rapidly through Ji-ho’s mind. Being constantly criticized was enough for him alone.

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll get paid by Mr. Yi-won and sort it out.”

Hye-rim interjected casually.

Ji-ho, who had momentarily forgotten her presence, began to struggle again, but Yi-won ignored him. With Hye-rim smiling faintly, as if watching something highly amusing, Ji-ho crossed through space with Yi-won.

“Ugh…”

The moment they passed through space, his head throbbed as if someone were shaking his brain. Nausea surged, but nothing came out, leaving him only dizzy and disoriented.

“Did you know? Hwang Hye-rim’s portals are among the most stable of all spatial mages. You’re just too weak right now to withstand it.”

Yi-won spoke coldly, and Ji-ho lacked the energy to even reply. Yi-won let out a deep sigh. Despite his irritation, his hands carefully lowered Ji-ho onto something soft. A plush sensation enveloped his back.

“Why were you there?”

“Why, you ask… Our guild…”

“I saw traces of movement. You should have broken a window and fled outside, or gone to the rooftop. Why did you run back inside the guild? Especially when this place was already compromised.”

Yi-won’s gaze fixed on Ji-ho’s chest. Ji-ho quickly offered an excuse.

“It wasn’t compromised, it was just a graze…”

“A mere graze wouldn’t have splattered this much blood. And…”

“…”

“No, never mind. Just tell me properly, without trying to be clever.”

Yi-won’s eyes were sharp, demanding an explanation. A clumsy excuse wouldn’t work. It seemed he knew more than Ji-ho had anticipated.

He couldn’t bring himself to honestly say something like, ‘If it came down to it, I planned to buy time even if it cost me my life.’ Yi-won’s voice, as he questioned Ji-ho, trembled ever so slightly.

Moreover, there was the problem that if he messed up, Yi-won might tell his parents. It was a childish concern for a grown adult, but he couldn’t help it.

Ji-ho offered an awkward smile. Clumsy excuses wouldn’t work. He quickly racked his brain, wondering how honest he needed to be for it to be convincing.

“No, actually, I have a counter-skill, you see? It returns critical damage dealt to me and heals me. I was just relying on that. You saw the monster’s arm get blown off, didn’t you?”

Yi-won frowned deeply, looking somewhat skeptical.

“You didn’t see it?”

“I saw it, yes.”

“That was my doing.”

“Is that a new skill you acquired?”

“Yeah.”

“A skill that good actually exists?”

“No, of course, the conditions are strict and the cooldown is long, so it’s practically a last resort… but it exists, something like that.”

Though a slight lie was mixed in, Ji-ho answered confidently.

In truth, he knew nothing of the skill’s conditions or cooldown, but if one looked only at the result, excluding the process, his words weren’t entirely false. The monster’s arm had been blown off instead of Ji-ho’s chest.

If the skill didn’t activate next time, he could always make excuses, saying the conditions weren’t met or the cooldown hadn’t passed.

“It’s true I was pierced here… but that skill healed me instantly. Look, there’s no wound, right?”

Yi-won glared fiercely at Ji-ho. He felt a pang of guilt, but what could he do? Frankly, even he couldn’t fully understand what had just happened.

“So, instead of running outside, you evacuated inside?”

“I figured I could hold out to some extent. There was a barrier, and I’d already reported it, so…”

“So, you’re saying you did well?”

“…”

Why was he being scolded?

However, having done nothing well, he had nothing to say. Just as he was about to apologize…

“Ugh!”

Yi-won’s hand pressed firmly on his left chest, right where he had been attacked moments ago.

Though it had healed smoothly without a single scar, it seemed the impact he had once received hadn’t completely vanished. A sudden pain, so intense it bleached his vision white, overwhelmed Ji-ho. Forgetting even the throbbing in his head, Ji-ho raised a hand and clutched Yi-won’s sleeve.

“Ah, it hurts…”

“Then you should only be pierced by me, not by anyone else.”