Retire 575

(Extra Story 42) The Fossil in the Terrarium_2

Hong Seokyoung’s son.

It was a remarkably interesting choice of words.

Woo Huijae had never really hidden the fact that he was Hong Seokyoung’s “son.” At first, when Hong Seokyoung hadn’t known, he’d introduced him as his disciple, but that was long past. Whether during his solo trips to America or when Guild Mimi was active in Las Vegas, Hong Seokyoung would sometimes refer to Woo Huijae as his son.

Since neither of them tried to hide it, even those guild members who knew the details just accepted it with a look of mild surprise. The guild members working at the school were like that—perhaps because they were too well-educated to comment on someone else’s private affairs.

But surprisingly, even the agents from other countries he met in America never mentioned “Hong Seokyoung’s son.” What they cared about was the information the insider could provide about the Ark.

Their focus was so clear, it was almost refreshing. To them, Woo Huijae wasn’t a son, but an insider who handed over crucial information. His titles of disciple or vice-master of Guild Mimi were more relevant than “son.”

Why?

The son is the disciple, and the disciple is the son. Why separate them?

That question was answered on the fourth day of the U.S. trip, during a call with his younger sibling back in Korea.

‘You did what with Uncle?’

‘We sparred! He always said we’d do it when I was older, and today he finally did!’

‘Are you sure it was a spar? Not just him playing with you?’

‘No!! It was a real spar!’

That conversation made it clear.

The person Hong Seokyoung called “son” was not just one person.

And there were more children he’d taken in as family.

There were three minors who objectively needed protection. To outsiders who didn’t know the details, it looked like “Woo Huijae” had asked Hong Seokyoung for help to look after those three. It was no secret that Hong Seokyoung was soft on kids, and if he’d adopted the youngest, then of course the older one would be considered a son as well.

Of course, knowing Hong Seokyoung, Woo Huijae would have been brought into the family circle too, but then there was the matter of how he’d first been introduced in official settings.

Not as a son, but as a disciple.

‘Is this how my sister used to feel?’

Woo Huijae felt a sudden pang of guilt toward his sister.

In any case, realizing how it looked from the outside, the title this Salman used became even more amusing.

It meant he saw “son” as the most representative way to describe Woo Huijae.

Of course, it could also be that he was mocking him for being a mere adopted son…

“I’m Woo Huijae.”

“I go by many names, but for now, just call me Salman.”

His manner was somewhat casual, but not unserious.

“To think you’re Hong Seokyoung’s son. I’ve always wanted to meet you. Would have preferred it under better circumstances, though.”

Just as someone had tipped off Woo Huijae about this man, someone had tipped Salman off about Woo Huijae.

The fact that it was the same person was amusing.

“Come, have a seat. You’ve gotten yourself tangled up in quite a mess.”

The director of the Arabian Integrated Medical Research Center must have a background as a healer. That rule had never changed since the Center’s founding. Few of the previous directors were publicly known.

Naturally, after hearing about the meeting from Han Taekyung, Woo Huijae had dug through his mana watch for information. He knew it only held domestic data, but checked anyway, just in case.

As expected, there was nothing useful. Just a few records of Hunters who, after suffering injuries that couldn’t be treated domestically, had gone to the Center for care.

“If it weren’t for Han, not even Hong Seokyoung could have gotten this story out of me.”

“…It was an urgent matter.”

“That’s why I made an exception.”

“Not just because of Teacher Han?”

Salman smiled at Woo Huijae’s words.

At a glance, you’d believe he was a Hunter, not a healer. Maybe it was the eyepatch—a plain black leather patch, but in the light, it shimmered with a subtle, scale-like pattern.

“I won’t deny it. If Han hadn’t asked, I wouldn’t have come all this way.”

Salman looked at Han Taekyung.

Normally, Han would be boasting, but now he slouched in his chair with a sullen look.

Salman smiled again, this time with a hint of bitterness. It was unexpected.

“Han doesn’t like talking about the lamp, so I was surprised he brought it up.”

“Do you still call it the lamp?”

Han Taekyung sank deeper into his chair.

Woo Huijae felt a strange sensation. Was this what Han was like when he was with real friends, not just colleagues?

“Old nicknames don’t change easily. Han, if you’re uncomfortable, you can step out.”

“I’m fine…”

“Want some candy? Or dates? Alia packed some for you when she heard I’d be seeing you.”

Salman was older than Han by a good bit, but age didn’t seem to matter. It was just… odd. And it made Woo Huijae even more curious. Even when Han acted like this, Salman wasn’t annoyed—instead, he fussed over him.

What on earth had happened between them, that this proud-looking man would act like this?

“I said I’m fine.”

“Really?”

“…Maybe later.”

From the conversation, it sounded more like a parent talking to a child.

Given their apparent ages, maybe that was closer to the truth. An uncle, or an older brother—there was a strange familial vibe.

Han Taekyung hadn’t said much about Salman.

It wasn’t that he was trying to hide anything from Woo Huijae. Quite the opposite, in fact. He wanted to share, but wasn’t sure how much he was allowed to say.

With the speaker so uncertain, the listener couldn’t help but feel awkward, too.

In the end, Woo Huijae told him that if there were things he couldn’t say, he didn’t have to. He’d find out what kind of person Salman was soon enough.

If this had been a negotiation, Woo Huijae wouldn’t have been so considerate—he’d have squeezed out every bit of information. But this wasn’t that. The only condition for sharing information was to meet face-to-face.

“If you don’t want to leave, here. Take this and sit quietly.”

Salman handed Han Taekyung a pink ball of fluff—a cat plushie. Treating him like a child.

But it worked. Seeing Han instantly distracted by the cat plush, Woo Huijae felt a pang of exasperation. Was this really their guildmate? Was this okay?

Salman must have noticed Woo Huijae’s sigh, because his right eye softened. It looked like a smile, but only on the surface.

“If Han brought this up first, it must be important. So it’s fine. I just hope what we discuss here doesn’t get out.”

“Don’t worry. We only want one thing.”

“Henry Lehmann?”

Woo Huijae nodded.

“Yes. As long as we catch him, that’s enough.”

“Hm.”

Woo Huijae didn’t look away from Salman.

He’d learned something from the giant fish in Las Vegas.

Not all the feathered ones or fae agreed with conquering Earth and making it their own.

That fish didn’t speak for every species, but according to what Alex had relayed, that race hadn’t been eager to escape their own world. Some monsters they’d met at that time had even given up fighting when they realized who Hong Seokyoung was.

Guild Mimi was only keeping tabs on Mont-Saint-Michel, not the bizarre feathered creatures. To be honest, Woo Huijae was annoyed that he had to worry about things like Henry Lehmann at all.

If only Noah Michel had taken care of Lehmann, too!

Salman couldn’t have known Woo Huijae’s thoughts, but perhaps sensing his sincerity, he glanced at Han Taekyung before speaking.

“How much do you know about the feathered friends?”

Before Woo Huijae could answer, Han Taekyung jumped in.

“I know the basics. I told you, our Master caught a weird mage.”

Salman, with a face that looked like he’d never been interrupted in his life, didn’t even blink as he turned to Han and asked amiably,

“The Dutch mage, right?”

“I fought him too. He had feathers, I’m telling you.”

“In theory, that’s possible.”

“Oh, really?”

“But it’s not recommended. Why draw attention to yourself? There was someone who tried it out of curiosity once. Didn’t live long, though.”

Now Woo Huijae understood why Han Taekyung struggled to distinguish between what he should and shouldn’t say.

The man who’d given him such sharp warnings was, with Han, casually discussing things that should be top secret—sometimes even volunteering information before Han could ask.

Han wasn’t clueless; he knew not to go blabbing about this stuff. But he didn’t know where the line was. Salman probably wouldn’t care if Han talked, either. Even Woo Huijae, after just a short time observing, could see that.

So that’s why he’d said what he did at the first graduation.

Woo Huijae nodded inwardly.

Even if he didn’t say it outright, Salman’s warning was clear. Even if it wasn’t, the importance of this conversation was obvious.

And it struck Woo Huijae anew just how abnormal it was for Salman to share so freely, without expecting anything in return, just because Han Taekyung asked. Now he understood why Han had said to just use his name if he ever wanted to work in the Middle East. With this kind of reaction, it would certainly get complicated, in a different way.

“There are some strange sightings of Henry Lehmann, you know. Things that happened in Las Vegas and Busan. Han told me about them—said he had Hong Seokyoung’s permission to share the details.”

“…Yes. I figured it couldn’t be done with ordinary magic.”

“Why? There was a great mage involved, wasn’t there?”

“There are great mages here, too.”

Salman paused, then laughed heartily.

“That’s true. That’s something to be proud of. Next time, can you ask Mage Kim Chaemin if she’d be interested in working with my center?”

“That’s up to her. She’s not the type to be forced into anything.”

“I don’t have much data left, but I’m very interested in the mana-purifying plants Mage Kim Youngheon researched. If things go well, tell her I’d be willing to support her.”

“…Understood.”

Truly an extraordinary person.

The conversation briefly strayed, but Salman brought it back.

“I haven’t been very interested in Henry Lehmann until now. Criminals like that don’t interest me.”

“…….”

“I don’t know what kind of monster he poked to end up like that.”

Salman sounded sympathetic, but his exaggerated tone made it sound more like mockery.

“You need strong emotions for that. The more desperate you are, the more stable the result. I doubt Henry Lehmann had that kind of motivation.”

“…Strong emotions?”

“The easiest is this.”

For just a moment, Salman’s eyes flicked to Han Taekyung.

“The desire to save someone.”

Even Woo Huijae, who hadn’t looked away from Salman, almost missed it.

“They’re surprisingly soft-hearted, those friends of yours.”