Retire 393

393 Greeting (2)

“Uwaaah!!”

Han Taekyung shook himself off with a loud yell, mud splattering onto the ground.

“……”

I glanced at him, then looked up at the sky. Unlike the pitch-black dungeon, the sun blazed in a cloudless sky, dazzling my eyes.

We hadn’t actually spent that long in the dungeon, but it felt as though we’d been inside for ages. I could guess the reason for that feeling, but I chose to blame the least burdensome cause.

Humans are meant to live under sunlight. When it’s pouring rain, of course you lose your sense of time and start to feel gloomy.

“So, where are we going now?”

After making a fuss, Han Taekyung quieted down when no one responded. He calmly tidied his rain-soaked coat and asked,

“Are we heading back to the school?”

“Ugh, right away? No way…”

Hope immediately made a face.

“Ah, junior, sadly, new hires don’t have the authority to make decisions.”

“I’m not going back to the school.”

I had no intention of siding with Hope, but there was no reason to stop by the school.

“Then where are we going?”

“Jirisan.”

It wasn’t so much that I didn’t have the time as that I had no reason. What would I even do at the school?

It would just be the same as always. Work. And more work. And… work.

Lately, there was one more thing: Daniel from America. I’d told him I was going home because of my brother, but if I went back to the school now, I’d just look like a workaholic. Even I wanted to avoid that misunderstanding.

Well, if that man had any intuition at all, he might suspect something. All the more reason to avoid that situation.

“Jirisan? Oh, right. We have to go there too. But where is that, exactly?”

Despite her fluent Korean, Hope was clueless about Korean geography and looked to Han Taekyung, who pulled out his phone and showed her a map.

“Ugh, what! That’s practically the opposite end of the country! No way!”

“Junior, as I said, sadly, new hires don’t get a say…”

“Korea may be small, but this is ridiculous!”

“It’s fine. It won’t take more than a few hours.”

Of course, I wanted to show Hong Seok-yeong what we’d found in the mud dungeon and talk to him about it. Even though I couldn’t put my swirling emotions into words, I wanted to let something out.

That’s how it used to be. When something came up that I couldn’t handle on my own, I’d go to my father. He always had some kind of solution, even if it was completely unrealistic.

‘Hahaha, Hee-jae, who am I? If I get involved, even things that should work out— Wait. That’s not it.’

‘…You mean, you can make even impossible things possible?’

‘That’s right! That’s the spirit!’

Whether he actually solved things or not, just hearing him say that was a great comfort. Just knowing there was someone who would support and look after me, no matter what.

I know it was childish. But once you realize there’s someone who will not only indulge you but go even further, you can’t help but lean on them.

Maybe that’s why my father hid everything from me until the end. He wasn’t the kind of person who could push away a child who came to him for help.

It’s the same now. If I asked him to do something—anything—he would.

But then it would all just repeat itself.

I’m not saying I want to keep things from my father.

At the very least, I should understand what I’m feeling before I talk to him. I need to know what I want, what I hope for, and what I plan to do next, so I can face him as someone who can discuss the future—not just as a good, obedient son who doesn’t know anything.

Didn’t I want to be a son who could discuss the future with him, not just a well-behaved child?

“It won’t take long, so let’s get going.”

“Ugh.”

“Uuugh.”

At my words, Hope and Han Taekyung both hunched their shoulders. Hope jabbed Han Taekyung in the side.

“Senpai, you’re not a new hire. Don’t you get a say?”

“This is what they call adult life.”

“Stop dawdling!”

“I’m the one driving, so at least let me rest a little, senpai!”

“This is what they call adult life.”

“……”

I snorted.

…Wait. Was it that I wanted to be a son, or a successor?

“Wipe the mud off your shoes before you get in, senpai!”

“It’s not even my car.”

“Junior, you shouldn’t act like that in society.”

“But it seems so much easier that way.”

“Hahaha! You really do pick up the bad habits fast! Not that I should talk!”

Son, disciple, successor—what’s the difference, really?

---

“This is the place, right?”

Han Taekyung asked, looking uncertain, though he was heading in exactly the right direction. Any Hunter should be able to recognize a path they’ve taken before.

I hadn’t visited this dungeon many times, but I’d grown familiar with the way. How often does anyone visit the same dungeon this frequently? If it still felt unfamiliar, I’d have to turn in my Hunter license.

The only one here for the first time was Hope.

“This is one of the dungeons you listed for me?”

“Yes.”

“It’s in such a weird spot…”

This dungeon, unlike the mud dungeon in Gangwon, would soon be difficult to visit for a different reason. The government would target dungeons like this first for closure. Hard to access, not especially profitable, but still a source of resources and not a high rank. They’d either bring it under strict management or shut it down entirely.

What would happen to the fairy inside?

“You. It’s okay for you to enter this dungeon, right?”

“Huh? Well… why wouldn’t it be?”

“I should explain—”

I stopped. Hope’s responses were all half-hearted.

Hadn’t I explained about Tati? I must have. She just wasn’t listening right now.

More precisely, her mind was elsewhere. If I’d told her to ask anything, she would have immediately questioned me about the swords, about my identity. Even now, she was only half-responding to Han Taekyung, while keeping a close eye on me. She’d been the same in the car on the way here.

Being from the future doesn’t give me much of an advantage. Even Hope said the existence of a “prophet” isn’t all that significant. But that doesn’t mean it’s meaningless.

I ignored Hope’s gaze and focused on the dungeon ahead.

Tati.

A monster who learned human speech.

A monster who called humans her friends.

A monster who worried about my brother.

A monster who, perhaps, knew my brother better than I did.

Yes, better than I did.

Hope might understand, but explaining Tati’s existence to Han Taekyung was still awkward.

Once again, I left Han Taekyung outside the gate.

“Yup. Good luck in there!”

Han Taekyung didn’t even seem confused—he actually looked pleased to see us off.

By now, I could guess what was going on behind those annoying sunglasses. He was probably thinking there’d be some tedious conversation inside the dungeon, and he was happy to avoid it. What a strange guy.

“Mud.”

Just before entering the gate, Hope spoke up.

“…What?”

“We’re supposed to collect mud first, right?”

I blinked.

…That was the excuse I’d given. No, not an excuse—that was the main reason.

I’d almost forgotten the important part, distracted by thoughts of my brother.

“Yeah. That first.”

I nodded and entered the gate.

“……?”

Tati’s dungeon in Jirisan wasn’t especially high-level. Still, there was always a subtle pressure from the toll it exacted—just enough to match its rank.

But now, the energy I felt at the gate…

“……!”

I only had a moment to wonder at how faint the toll was before I looked around the dungeon. Compared to the first time I’d entered, the landscape had changed so much it felt like a different dungeon.

Think back to the first time here.

It had felt artificial, but there were still green plants everywhere. It looked like a dungeon set in the mountains.

Of course, after that, the mud had flooded everything.

But when we left, the mud had receded and the forest was visible again.

…And after that? The scenery had grown a bit bleak, but it was still a dungeon. There were trees, there was mud…

But now, the place was filled with nothing but endless, withered trees, so shriveled and dry you could hardly recognize them.

“This is…”

I scraped the ground with my foot.

It wasn’t as bad as the Gangwon mud dungeon, but the soil here had always been damp, holding moisture.

Now, it was so dry you couldn’t find a drop of water—cracked and parched, dust rising with every step. Even the air was devoid of moisture. Everything was dried out.

“We’re not here to clear the dungeon, are we?”

Hope crouched and pressed her palm to the ground, muttering.

Her voice was so quiet I only realized she was talking to me after a moment.

“No.”

“How many monsters are here, anyway? Just that one?”

“Probably. There’s a golem type, but the fairy controls that one.”

“That hardly counts as a monster. Hm, if we’re not here to clear the place, this could be tricky.”

“Why?”

Hope slowly stood up, brushed the dust from her hands onto her pants, and tilted her head.

“This dungeon’s almost out of power.”

Power.

I looked up at the sky. The star-filled heavens, like a slice of the universe itself, were unchanged. But faint dust was falling, just like a dungeon on the verge of collapse.

“The dungeon core?”

“Yeah. There’s not enough power left to maintain the interior. Usually, the gate would close before it got like this… Strange. The dungeon isn’t exploding, and the gate isn’t closed.”

Hope muttered, looking puzzled.

“It’s not impossible, but… for that to happen, someone would have to be supplying power instead. Obviously, it’d be the monster living here.”

Tati? That fairy?

“But it’s really inefficient. And what’s the point of keeping the dungeon going like this?”

“If a dungeon break happens, the monsters can’t survive long outside anyway.”

“Then just close the gate. At least they’d live longer than in this state.”

“Either way, they’re going to die, aren’t they?”

“It’s the difference between dying comfortably in a small, cozy home, or dying of thirst while still alive.”

I could sense something approaching. Through the withered trees, a branch as dry as the rest moved. Its bark-like skin was covered in a fine white dust, which flaked off with every movement.

Gone was the sharp, vibrant figure from our first meeting. Now it was twisted, like a sick tree.

“Hello!”

But her voice, bright as a lark, was as cheerful as ever.

“I don’t want to suffer. So I chose the first option.”

Tati blinked her large eyes. Those seemingly innocent eyes swept over Hope. Hope didn’t look away.

In fact, she glared right back.

“She seems to think differently from me.”