Retire 546
by Cristae546 (Hunter Academy Side Story 13) The Fence_2
Of all the children, Woo Hee-jae was the only one who knew about Robert’s family history. The rest had only managed to piece together the relationship between the Blakes and Hong Seok-young. Since Robert and Isabella called Hong Seok-young their son-in-law, it wasn’t exactly a secret. Not that there’d ever been any intention to hide it.
Hong Seok-young’s past was no secret. That he’d grown up in an orphanage, that he’d run away as soon as he awakened, that he’d started as a porter and eventually become a Hunter representing an entire nation—all of it had been wrapped up in the romance of perseverance and unyielding dreams and widely publicized.
That he’d later met and married his childhood friend. That they’d had a child. That his wife died, that his child died, and that he remained at the top as the strongest Hunter—all of this, too, was public knowledge.
Whatever he might have thought himself, Hong Seok-young let people say whatever they wanted. At some point, he must have decided that all those noisy stories weren’t entirely untrue.
At least, that’s what he’d confessed to his father-in-law, drunk, after his wife died.
‘Other people seem to live so easily, but I don’t know why I turned out like this.’
It’s hard for Awakened to get drunk.
Robert listened to his son-in-law’s drunken rambling over drinks that wouldn’t even make him tipsy.
‘But I don’t regret it…’
‘I’m glad.’
‘You’re glad?’
‘Hannah wouldn’t have regretted it.’
‘Do you really think so?’
‘Would she have regretted it?’
‘…No. She wouldn’t.’
Robert had nothing more to say, knowing the person at the heart of it all had been satisfied.
It had been a short marriage, but Robert knew better than anyone how happy she’d been. That child was happy. As a parent, there was no greater blessing.
The tragedy that struck Hong Seok-young, who’d been in the perfect position to be a rising star among new Hunters, drew renewed attention.
People still loved the story—a man who’d grown up with hardship, who’d found love with his childhood friend and seemed headed for a happy ending, only for it to end in tragedy.
Hong Seok-young let even that be. He figured it was better to earn sympathy than to antagonize people—if you made enemies, their anger would be directed at the child, not at you.
Hong Seok-young rose to the very top, as if to show them all. For a while, the fuss about the child died down, and talk of his dead wife was buried beneath his achievements.
As a result, all that was really known about Hong Seok-young’s wife—Robert’s daughter—was that she’d been a journalist.
“Well…”
Robert spoke carefully. Ji-eun was still scuffing her toes in the dirt, eyes on the ground.
This child was different from those people. Her curiosity was pointed in another direction.
It was also known, among those who cared, that she’d been a journalist and had been adopted by an American family.
But unless you were close, you wouldn’t know that the adoptive family was military. And only a handful knew that the father was a high-ranking officer who’d served for years as an Awakened Hunter in the U.S. military’s special unit.
After adopting Hannah Lee Blake, a few years later the Blakes had a son. The brother who attended his sister’s wedding later declared he would become a Hunter as well.
That was a story only the family knew.
And after that.
And after that…
“Why do you ask?”
His voice cracked at the end. Robert took a sip of water to steady himself. Ji-eun didn’t notice.
“Ah, it’s just… I’ve been thinking a lot lately.”
“You’ve been thinking a lot?”
The usually lively girl hesitated, chewing her words. Woo Hee-jae’s repeated requests when he’d asked Robert to look after her flashed through his mind.
She’s easily swayed by others, so please keep an eye out so she doesn’t go down the wrong path.
Robert didn’t press her, just waited quietly. Ji-eun, despite appearances, had always been wary of adults. For her to come to an “adult” for advice, instead of straying, was an act of courage in itself.
“The other girls and boys are all off at college… or they’ve become junior Hunters. Seo-hyun unni and Jin-woo oppa are busy with research with Teacher Chae-min.”
“That’s right.”
“I’m still only a second-year, but Tae-woo oppa is graduating this year. He could have graduated last year.”
“Tae-woo said he wanted to stay in school for another year, didn’t he?”
Ji-eun nodded, pouting.
“He said he wanted to go to Europe, since there might be a sister-guild arrangement with a French guild, so he put it off.”
“So that’s why you’ve been thinking? Do you want to study dungeons in France too?”
“That’s not studying, that’s just work. No, I don’t want to go to France. They say there’s that… thing in the Alps. A Hunter girl who came from France last year said it was really tough there.”
Ji-eun shook her head vigorously, scuffing the ground even harder.
“Everyone… wants to be a Hunter.”
And what she said next was something Robert hadn’t expected at all.
It was as if she herself didn’t want to be a Hunter.
Robert, seeing her hesitation, asked gently,
“Ji-eun, do you not want to be a Hunter?”
Ji-eun’s passion had always seemed more serious than just childish bravado. Even if it was just bravado, he wouldn’t have laughed at her, but after seeing so many Hunters over the years, Robert could tell Ji-eun was earnest. Her lively attitude might make her seem flighty, but even Woo Hee-jae treated her with the same seriousness as any other student.
“…I’m not sure.”
For a child like her to suddenly say she didn’t want to be a Hunter—had something happened at school?
No matter how few students there were, kids always found ways to avoid the teachers’ eyes.
“Why do you feel that way?”
“……”
Ji-eun started to answer, then closed her mouth. A few hikers passed by.
People walked past the two of them resting on a rock. Only after a long pause did Ji-eun speak again.
“When I was little, my sister worked really hard to protect me.”
“Mm.”
“I know better than anyone that she pushed herself too hard because of me… When I grew up, I wanted to protect her.”
“That makes sense.”
“But, um. I don’t know.”
“What part don’t you know?”
“Is becoming a Hunter really the way to protect my sister?”
Robert had seen many people over the years. The thoughts of this little girl were the same as so many others.
“It depends on what you mean by ‘protect,’ I suppose.”
“Ugh… I don’t even know that. I just want my sister to have an easy life, to spoil her.”
“So you wanted to be a Hunter for that?”
“Because Hunters make a lot of money.”
That’s a pretty solid motivation. It’s a lot better than young Awakened who say things like, “Because I can kill monsters.”
“But now…”
And if her doubts were about her own motivation, not something else—
“But now, even if it’s not me, there are adults who can take care of my sister…”
“Just your sister?”
“……”
Ji-eun’s cheeks flushed bright red. She knew it wasn’t just the heat, and so did Robert.
Ji-eun stuck out her lips like a duckling and answered,
“…Me too.”
“Why do you think they take care of you?”
“Because we’re family…”
All those times he’d stubbornly insisted on the word had paid off.
Ji-eun, who used to watch every adult warily, clutching her sister’s sleeve, finally accepted that she was a child who didn’t have to be responsible for everything.
No one would be happier about that than his son-in-law. This trust was Hong Seok-young’s doing.
“Ji-eun.”
She still struggled to show her true feelings, but Robert understood her heart.
She’d grown up with no one to rely on but her sister. Her new guardians were Hunters, and since Yoo Hye-eun had trained under them, it was only natural for her to see becoming a Hunter as the easiest path.
“Do you not want to be a Hunter?”
“That’s not it…”
Ji-eun shook her head.
“No. Training is fun, and even though I still make mistakes sometimes, I know I’m good at it.”
“Those two things are important. But just because something is fun and you’re good at it doesn’t mean it’s what you want to do.”
“……”
“Not every Awakened becomes a Hunter.”
“I know… Teacher Woo says that all the time.”
Some might laugh at her for having these doubts after all this time training to be a Hunter at a Hunter Academy. If she didn’t know that, she shouldn’t have tried to be a Hunter in the first place, they’d say.
But at that age, everyone feels anxiety about their future. Robert was moved to tears by the fact that Ji-eun was reconsidering her choices, even now.
Because Robert was a parent. Even though he’d lost his own children early, he was a parent. And now, a grandfather.
To be a leader is to be responsible for those who follow you, even after they’re gone. Robert had cleaned up after countless subordinates—confirming deaths, delivering the news to families, bringing them home.
He’d been on the other side, too.
So if she said she didn’t want to be a Hunter, he’d welcome it.
“But if I’m not a Hunter, I don’t know what else I’d do. I wanted to protect my sister, but she’ll do fine without me.”
“Does that make you sad?”
“…Not really. My sister’s amazing! She’s smart, too. It’s just… you know. Just…”
“Because you and your sister have family to help you now.”
“…Yeah. And, um, my sister doesn’t really go into dungeons, so it’s fine, but if I go into a dungeon, I think she’d be worried about me.”
“So that’s why you asked.”
“…Last year, when the teachers were away on a long trip, it was kind of rough. I-rok was really anxious, too. He pretends he’s not, but… When you see on TV that a raid took two weeks, a month, you don’t really get it, but when you think of them as family…”
It became frightening.
The terror of the dungeon isn’t just for the Hunters who go in. The ones left behind feel it just as much.
Robert knew that feeling—the heart of someone waiting, desperately hoping for a safe return.
The teachers at school must feel the same. In fact, his eldest grandchild had come to Robert and Isabella about it, too.
‘I just don’t get why everyone wants to be a Hunter so badly!’
Grumbling, but still asking all about America’s retired Hunter system to set up safety nets for students after graduation. It didn’t match the school’s purpose exactly, but he must have wanted hints on how to guide students who might want to quit being Hunters someday.
That was a curriculum for the students who’d survived cults in America. Maybe Ji-eun would need it, too.
“Of course Grandpa wishes everyone could be somewhere safe. Not going into dangerous places like dungeons.”
Maybe it was a cowardly answer.
But there’s no right answer to this. How wonderful it would be if every child could be kept safe.
“But what matters, Ji-eun, is what you want to do.”
“……”
“If you don’t want to be a Hunter, that’s fine. Hasn’t Teacher Woo always said so?”
“……”
“I just hope you won’t have any regrets.”
Just like his daughter. Just like his son.
With an anxious face, Robert spoke to Ji-eun, who listened intently—just as he’d whispered to his own children so long ago.
“You’re not alone. Whatever you do, if it’s hard, come to Grandpa anytime. I’ll help you.”
Ji-eun smiled shyly and nodded.
The following week.
Returning home for the weekend, Ji-eun ran to Robert with a glowing face and hugged him.
“Did something good happen?”
“I told Teacher Woo, too! That I’m not sure if I want to be a Hunter.”
Remembering Ji-eun’s worries from the previous week, Robert asked, half-worried, half-relieved, in a gentle voice.
“What did he say?”
“He told me not to overthink it, and to try anything I want, Hunter or not!”
Ji-eun giggled, mischief sparkling in her eyes.
“He said the same thing as you, Grandpa. That he’d help me do whatever I want.”