Chapter 46: A Desperate Plea and a Grimy Return

“I cannot go.”

Yeowon’s lack of eloquence often allowed him to convey his thoughts more directly, a trait that served him now.

The thoughts he had meticulously organized in the cold, desolate cargo hold emerged in a calm, measured tone, much like himself.

“…Why not?”

Sagyeol’s face contorted as he questioned, his tightly clenched hands trembling uncontrollably.

The day Grisha fell, everything precious to Sagyeol, his very world, was swallowed by the flood. From that day onward, he had become a blind racehorse, charging relentlessly into the depths of the disaster.

Hard, dirty work? It meant nothing to him. Cruel, inhumane acts? What did it matter?

He had truly only looked forward. The colossal picture he had been painting, using the entirety of Grisha as his canvas, was finally nearing completion.

“Don’t go.”

For a single, fleeting instant.

Though it was barely more than a blink, in that moment, he thought the flood and everything else could simply cease to matter.

“Only you can save me.”

It was an undeniable plea.

Sagyeol flinched, his mouth snapping shut. It was evident he had spoken without truly understanding his own words. He stood in foolish silence, his tongue, usually so smooth and articulate, now stiff and unyielding.

Yeowon offered a bitter smile. Sagyeol, momentarily mesmerized by a smile he had almost never seen, belatedly regained his senses.

“It’s dangerous, so please step away from there for now. I’ll explain everything. I can explain it all, so…”

“No. I know you’re sincere. And I know that, while it wasn’t at first, you’ve come to like me now.”

Just as Yeowon seemed not to fully hear Sagyeol’s words, Sagyeol, too, was struggling. He pieced together meaning from the shapes of Yeowon’s lips and fragments of his voice amidst the chaotic din.

“I’m probably similar to you.”

Sagyeol had been certain he understood, but Yeowon’s next words shattered that conviction. His eyes widened, his mouth slightly agape in utter surprise.

“Then—!”

“But the Three Crescent Moons are out of the question.”

Yeowon had offered a glimpse of shining hope, only to snatch it away just as quickly. In its wake, a profound despair surged.

“I hope we never meet again.”

Only the roar of the wind filled his ears. Yet, Sagyeol understood every syllable perfectly. He kicked off the metal floor with such force that his boots left imprints, then lunged forward.

Yeowon, having thrown himself into the void outside the airship, created a small void at Sagyeol’s feet, trapping his relentless advance within a palm-sized black mass. Sagyeol could pursue him no longer. Gritting his teeth, Sagyeol stretched out his hand.

There were many attacks he could perform with ice. He could shoot sharp, small crystals like bullets, or forge long spears to pierce. There was even the simple method of freezing a target solid.

But how could one catch someone, especially someone who had thrown themselves from a great height, without causing them harm?

CRACK!

Ice surged towards Yeowon in a swirling vortex, more akin to a dragon than a snake. However, the extended ice could not withstand the wind pressure and shattered mid-air. The fragmented pieces scattered. Yeowon, seeing this as unexpected aid, stepped on the ice shards to slow his descent.

THUD. THUD-THUD-THUD.

The ice shards crashed onto the mountain.

“Yeowon!!”

A roar, like that of a beast, echoed as the airship receded into the distance.

A Credit-affiliated airship made an emergency landing.

It wasn’t even outside the city, but within the forested area inside the bulkhead. Thanks to the efforts of the hunters on board, the landing itself was smooth, and there were no casualties. However, from an external perspective, the airship, trailing thick gray smoke as it descended, looked like nothing short of a crash.

Reports poured in from the outer district residents. All available firefighting personnel and equipment in the vicinity were dispatched. The news traveled swiftly through the hotline. The mayor, pale with shock, contacted the Credit Guild and promptly fainted upon hearing that the Guild Master had been aboard the airship.

“I wish I could faint too…”

And all the ensuing cleanup fell to Lee Hyun-su, the Credit Guild’s Vice Guild Master and Sagyeol’s unofficial subordinate. Since setting foot in Grisha, he had spent approximately six frantic days dealing with the aftermath.

Sleep was a luxury he barely afforded, and his meals consisted solely of sandwiches. To save time, he’d only managed a single five-minute shower in four days.

Beyond the immediate cleanup, the constant inquiries about the Guild Master’s well-being posed another significant challenge. Even after Sagyeol’s declaration that he was unharmed and perfectly fine, calls poured in relentlessly behind the scenes.

This was because Sagyeol had not shown himself. Without the Guild Master’s appearance, people refused to believe he was truly alright. Explaining and convincing them of this also consumed a considerable portion of Lee Hyun-su’s duties.

While a zombie in the form of Lee Hyun-su was thus created, Sagyeol remained in a state of semi-disappearance. The ‘semi’ was because, though no one knew his exact whereabouts, he still answered calls. Initially, Lee Hyun-su suspected Sagyeol had fled to avoid the cleanup, but that wasn’t the case. Sagyeol was wandering the wilderness, searching for someone.

Lee Hyun-su, knowing all too well who that ‘someone’ was, found himself speechless. Sagyeol’s voice, conveyed through the device, was lower and more somber than usual. Yet, that was all. For anyone else, it might have seemed unremarkable, but not for Lee Hyun-su.

Sagyeol’s voice felt like the brittle, dying leaves of a plant withered by disease, or perhaps an old diver casting himself into the void of a planet. Ominous assumptions spiraled one after another in Lee Hyun-su’s mind.

Despite his worries, he couldn’t bring himself to demand Sagyeol’s immediate return. He feared that if he did, Sagyeol might sever contact and perhaps never answer again.

Ultimately, Lee Hyun-su suppressed every word he wished to say, pretending everything was normal as he nagged. Though he himself hadn’t eaten or slept properly, he pleaded with Sagyeol to at least eat and get some rest.

Sagyeol agreed, then ended the call. Another four days passed.

The day of the hearing was fast approaching. Lee Hyun-su, feeling he had nothing to lose, contacted Sagyeol. The ringing tone continued for a long time. Just as he was about to give up, assuming it was another failed attempt—

[What is it?]

A familiar voice echoed from the other end. Lee Hyun-su suppressed the multitude of words he wanted to say and cast his bait first.

[The hearing is the day after tomorrow.]

[…Right.]

That was his only response.

Fortunately, Sagyeol appeared the day before the hearing. His beard was unshaven and messy, his hair disheveled, and his body unwashed, leaving him looking thoroughly grimy. The staff at the guild front, confronted with his bandit-like appearance, were aghast.

Lee Hyun-su, for once, didn’t sigh but instead clutched his chest as he quickly ushered Sagyeol inside. After more than two hours of washing, Sagyeol finally returned to the appearance of the Guild Master everyone knew. He seemed to have lost weight, his eye sockets a little hollow, and his jawline sharper than before.

The playful nonchalance and ease he once possessed were nowhere to be found, no matter how hard one looked. Now, he exuded the aura of a finely honed blade.

From early morning, reporters had staked out the guild building. Sagyeol, however, was on the rooftop, intending to travel by helicopter to the Hunter Association building in the city center.

“You have spare drones, right? Bring them.”

“…I believe I mentioned ten minutes ago that we’ll be traveling by helicopter.”

‘So why is he asking for a drone?’ Lee Hyun-su wondered, a sense of foreboding stirring within him, as he asked again. Sagyeol simply wiggled his outstretched hand.

“I know. Just hand it over.”

What choice did he have when his superior demanded it? Ultimately, he had no option but to provide the drone. Just as Sagyeol pocketed the cube he’d received, a helicopter appeared in the distance.

The helicopter landed with a violent downdraft, then took off again as soon as it had loaded the necessary personnel. The crowd gathered in front of the guild building was left staring, like dogs chasing chickens. Reporters camped outside the Hunter Association building also watched the helicopter, clicking their tongues in frustration. Observing them, Sagyeol remarked casually,

“…With such a crowd, doesn’t it defeat the purpose of not disclosing it to the public?”

“Words always find a way out, after all. Still, it hardly matters. There’s nothing for us to lose, is there?”

“That’s true.”

The two men, tossing off their headsets, followed the guards’ guidance. It was an unusual sight: S-rank and high A-rank hunters being escorted by A-ranks, yet the two familiar figures showed no amusement.

The hearing room today was on the 128th floor, two levels below the uppermost 130th floor. From there, through a colossal, semicircular glass window, the very heart of Grisha lay spread out below.

Considering that hearings typically take place in large, enclosed spaces or makeshift courtrooms filled with chairs, this was an exceptionally luxurious and unusual setting.

‘How thoughtful. They’ve gone to such lengths.’

Sagyeol, who had been in a perpetually foul mood since the airship incident, figuratively and literally radiating frost around him, offered a wry smile. Several people who witnessed it flinched and cleared their throats.

Everyone but Sagyeol was already in their seats in the hearing room. Lee Hyun-su quickly scanned the faces. Nearly all major guilds were present, and he spotted several guild masters from medium-sized guilds as well.

It seemed that older guilds, those present since Grisha’s reconstruction, were granted seats even if they were only medium-sized. The most unexpected attendee was the Hestia Guild Master. This middle-aged man, who usually sent his Vice Guild Master to most events, rested his chin on his hand with an expression of genuine distaste.

When their eyes met, he stuck out his tongue, making a ‘bleh’ sound. There was not an ounce of dignity to be found. Considering his usual conduct, he was more akin to an old-school gang boss than a Guild Master.

‘Cruel, violent, and impulsive by nature.’

His inferiority complex towards Sagyeol was an added bonus. Yet, he was no fool. His presence here signified that he understood the true intent behind this hearing.

Lee Hyun-su, having surveyed the room once more, signaled to the guard.

CREAK.

The hearing room door closed. Left outside, he finally exhaled a long breath. The hearing was only just beginning, but for him, it felt as though a massive burden had been lifted.

“I will show you to the waiting room.”

He followed the guard. Lee Hyun-su wasn’t worried. If the Hestia Guild Master was a bull charging recklessly, Sagyeol was a slime—a monster that, when poked, would simply wobble before unexpectedly lunging to suffocate its prey.

Of course, this also had its positive aspects. Though usually a loafer, he became the most rational and strongest leader when circumstances demanded it.

‘Please, if he causes trouble, let it be manageable.’

Therefore, his concern wasn’t the hearing itself. It was the drone the ‘slime’ had taken, its purpose utterly unknown.