VSP 69

“Give me your autograph!”

“Hyung, take a photo with me!”

The middle schoolers seemed unwilling to lose the chance, and they rummaged through their bags for something to sign while thrusting out their phones for photos.

One phone a student held out played a video from the YouTube channel “Hunterism TV” titled [Current Korean S-Rank Hunter Ranking. Why is Seo Sejun Weak?]. That must have been the video they wanted to show Sejun earlier.

Dogyeong’s gut twisted. He opened his mouth with a smile.

“I don’t want to.”

“What?”

He spoke bluntly, without excuse or decoration, just as the middle schoolers did when they spoke their minds without caring about others’ feelings

“I don’t want to.”

Cha Dogyeong again conveyed his will with certainty. I don’t want to, I don’t want to. Like a child who only repeated those words, Cha Dogyeong was refusing fans’ requests for autographs and photos for the first time.

Although he often treated others curtly, and although he had occasionally declined adults, at least to minors he had never once refused a photo or a signature, and this was the first time he shook his head.

The students had not expected Cha Dogyeong to refuse, so their mouths hung open in bewilderment, but Dogyeong slung his arm around Sejun’s shoulders. It wasn’t because he wanted to look close with Seo Sejun, but simply because he felt like it.

In that stance, Dogyeong scanned the surroundings as he thought about where to drag Sejun so things would quiet down, but Sejun tugged on his sleeve.

“Let’s go upstairs.”

Then Dogyeong remembered that Seo Sejun’s mother had told them to go to the second floor, so he nodded.

At the stairs to the second floor, a small sign read “Under Repair.”

But Sejun, with the right of a proprietor’s son, ignored it and went up to the second floor.

The second floor was as wide and neat as the first. With no guests, though the noise from below reached them somewhat, it was quiet enough.

In one corner, ropes suggested that some repair was underway, but aside from avoiding that area, the place looked clean enough to dine without issue.

After glancing around, Sejun sat at a suitable table. Dogyeong sat opposite him.

“Sejun-hyung, my timing was good, right?”

Dogyeong spoke the moment he sat, and asked for praise. Sejun’s face reddened slightly in a way that made it impossible to read his thoughts, and he shook his head.

“…Don’t call me that.”

“Why, do you dislike it?”

Seo Sejun paused briefly, but then he shook his head again like that wasn’t the case.

“…I don’t dislike it.”

“Then?”

“On the contrary, I think it is closer to good.”

The honesty left Dogyeong silent this time. But Sejun, unaware he had spoken a kind of confession, rubbed his flushed cheek and then fixed a strangely severe look.

“But not for a while, at least not here. Don’t call me that. Understood?”

As Sejun spoke, the rims of his ears flushed. He said again and again, “Not here. Don’t. Not here.” Dogyeong listened like a well-trained dog, then chuckled and nodded.

It was not as if Sejun forbade it entirely, he only asked him not to do it here, so there was no reason he could not comply. Dogyeong nodded magnanimously.

“Fine then. Seo Sejun, my timing was good, right?”

When he looked at him demanding praise again, Seo Sejun finally smiled.

“Yes, nice timing.”

But the voice that delivered those words curiously lacked its usual vigor. He had received the praise, and Seo Sejun was smiling, and nothing seemed wrong, but that heaviness bothered Dogyeong.

“Then why does your face look like that?”

“Ah.”

Seo Sejun rubbed his cheek to ask if it showed, but he recalled that he had already shown Dogyeong countless other sides, he thought briefly and then spoke slowly.

“Just… I realized everything went into my mother’s ears after all.”

“……”

It seemed something in the middle schoolers’ earlier words had troubled Sejun. Their malice lay in telling his mother that Seo Sejun was bullied.

In truth, there was no way she didn’t know. Broadcast stations compared hunters’ abilities, and every time, Seo Sejun’s accidents and his poor stats were treated like sample dishes to be served to the public.

Seo Sejun had become food cut neatly and offered up to be mocked. Even people who never watched the news knew it.

He had always avoided confronting face to face the truth, Sejun’s voice sounded heavy and no mood could stay good.

“I feel like I only show you the sides of me I don’t want you to see.”

Dogyeong opened his mouth and then closed it again. What kind of comfort should he give at times like this? Since he had never once chosen his words with care, weighing again and again whether the other might misunderstand, or misinterpret, or be wounded, he felt uncharacteristically at a loss.

He only rubbed his lips for a moment, then threw out a word as if he wished it to sound like nothing much.

“Then you just need good rumors from now on, right? Your mana increased too. If you show results, people will forget the past soon. …But how in the world did you increase your mana?”

He was genuinely curious, and he also thought shifting the subject would help, so when Dogyeong asked about the point he had wondered since before, he saw Sejun’s face harden in a different way from moments ago.

“Sejun-ah, Hunter Cha Dogyeong!”

The conversation cut off because Sejun’s mother came up from the first floor with a tray piled full of food.

“I didn’t know what you would like, so I brought a bit of everything.”

The tray she laid down felt like a stone block. Tteokbokki, gimbap, jjolmyeon, and ramen still bubbling with a yolk that looked firm and delicious covered the table. Even with two grown men, the table seemed too full to handle, and it was hard to believe this slender woman carried it alone.

“Mom, who is going to eat all this?”

Sejun spoke with a weary face, and his mother opened her eyes wide.

“Oh my, did I go overboard? Hunter Cha Dogyeong is much bigger than I imagined.”

“No, I eat a lot. Thank you.”

In fact, Dogyeong could finish it without trouble. Though he too thought the amount seemed large.

The table revealed her heart, that she wanted to show her cooking skill in abundance and feed not only her son but also her son’s friend until they went away full.

She didn’t go down right away but spoke to Dogyeong with a smile.

“When my son said he would bring a friend, I wondered who it might be, and your voice sounded familiar, so I hesitated. I never thought it would be Hunter Cha Dogyeong.”

You should have told me earlier. She slapped Sejun’s shoulder. Sejun picked up a piece of tteokbokki with a sullen face and put it in his mouth. His manner showed he had nothing to say. Indeed, he had nothing to say.

Since Sejun had skipped answering, the turn came back to Dogyeong.

“Lately I often caused trouble for hyung, so we became close, and since I was curious about your shop, I begged him to bring me along.”

Dogyeong, whose sociability tripled when speaking with elders, crafted a smooth answer. Of course, he had not coordinated that with Sejun.

“Oh, really? Then take some tteokbokki with you on your way home.”

“Yes, thank you!”

Dogyeong’s turn ended. Sejun, cheeks puffed with tteokbokki as he chewed, asked his mother.

“Where is Dad?”

“Your dad went with the laundry shop owner to eat braised monkfish, and he still has not returned. He will drink.”

Her face, which had been smiling kindly, turned cold, especially when she said “laundry shop owner” and “drink.”

Sejun hunched his shoulders and shook his head. No doubt, the laundry shop owner and his father were repeat offenders.

She told them to eat slowly and come down later, then she went down to the first floor again. Her steps showed haste, so even with many employees, her command seemed indispensable.

Only then did Dogyeong taste each of the foods that filled the table. Tteokbokki, gimbap, fish cake, jjolmyeon, even the ramen, not a single one tasted bad.

They surpassed any refined dish he had eaten recently, so Dogyeong marveled sincerely.

“Your mother cooks well.”

“Yes, usually the second floor is crowded too.”

Seo Sejun proudly boasted of his mother’s skill. He said the second floor usually overflowed with people, and both dine-in customers and takeout orders lined up every day.

Dogyeong, who had already seen the waiting line and the delivery riders outside, nodded. The taste was worth it.