TKS 12

 Chapter 12

He seemed to realize I had finished saying everything I wanted to, and quietly picked up where he had left off.

“There’s a chronic issue with my body. But I can’t explain what it is right now—there are too many listeners.”

“Listeners?”

I glanced around instinctively. No matter how hard I strained, there wasn’t the slightest sign of anyone else nearby.

When I turned back, he shook his head. He meant that with my level of ability, I couldn’t possibly detect them.

If someone could slip past the barriers of such a secretive guild building just to eavesdrop, then yes—it was well beyond me.

“Yes. And I’ve lived my entire life enduring it. You’re the one who stopped it.”

“…I’m actually helping you?”

“Yes, without a doubt. Because this is a problem invisible from the outside, there was no one I could ever turn to for help.”

That wasn’t all, surely. Reading between the lines, I could vaguely guess what kind of “problem” he meant.

The world of Rankers—on the surface, it glittered brilliantly. Some truly lived lavishly, enjoying life to the fullest. But behind the spectacle, there were always shadows.

Power struggles meant to kill one another, international conflicts tangled between nations.

Rankers killing to reclaim their spots. Rankers dying to protect theirs. The higher one climbed, the crueler it became.

“…But why do you trust me?”

“I don’t.” His voice was blunt. “If I trusted you, I’d have already told you everything in detail.”

“…”

This was where he was supposed to say something natural, wasn’t it? Something like: From the moment I met you, I felt a bond I couldn’t explain… I wasn’t even asking for that much.

At the very least, I expected him to admit that my ability was valuable, or that I seemed trustworthy, slowly building some mutual rapport.

But no—none of that.

Reality really doesn’t cut anyone slack.

“Right now, you’re no real threat to me, Ms. Yeom. Even if you were to learn my secret, I could deal with you before you told anyone else.”

“…Forgive me for asking, but you’d let me live?”

“I haven’t done anything yet. Nor do I plan to.”

His tone was cool, matter-of-fact. It could happen, but it hasn’t. Then he turned his gaze away.

Through the window stretched the panoramic skyline only visible from tall buildings. But his eyes seemed fixed not on the city itself, but on something far beyond. Something unreachable.

For an instant, the look on his face was strangely lonely, out of place in this conversation. It made me hesitate—and, shamelessly, one ridiculous thought crept in:

Shouldn’t this be the part where he says, “You’re the only one who understands my wounds”? And then we grow closer…

Clearly, I’d been reading too many novels. My thoughts kept spiraling in the wrong direction.

I shifted uncomfortably, breaking free from my daydream. He let out a quiet sigh. “Sorry,” he murmured, and I averted my eyes reflexively.

“…But you don’t look as frightened as I thought.”

“Pardon? Am I supposed to?”

“Usually, when I say things like this, people flinch. Their expressions crack with fear or at least unease.”

His tone was so calm it almost disguised the fact that what I’d just heard… was essentially a threat.

He was telling me: You’re weak. You’re no threat now. But if you ever reveal anything, I won’t let it slide.

And yet, for some reason, I didn’t believe he would actually do it. I couldn’t explain why. Maybe it was foolish instinct, but when I looked into his eyes—I just felt it.

“…Then if I simply stay quiet, isn’t there no chance of anything happening to me?”

“Yes. That’s correct.”

“And once I grow stronger… you’ll tell me what your problem really is?”

“…If you’re still my healer by then.”

This time, his words carried a faint hint of something else—as though he was asking me to remain his healer, not just now, but in the future.

Or maybe it was just wishful thinking on my part.

I nodded, and he gave the barest twitch of his lips—almost a smile, but not quite.

“Then please, when that time comes, let me know. I’d like to stay here as long as I can.”

“Don’t worry. Just be sure to get stronger. Strong enough that I can’t look down on you anymore.”

His way of speaking was peculiar—always framing himself as the villain, as if he wanted to spur me on by treating me like an opponent.

It was the kind of thing only someone who thought of themselves as irredeemable would say so casually.

“And if I really do get strong enough to be a threat? Will you… silence me to keep your secret?”

I had meant it as a joke. But his eyes widened, just slightly.

Note to self: don’t joke with this man.

“Then tell me this—if you grow that strong, will you leave me?”

“…What?”

“If you can become a threat but still keep my secret, I’d have no reason to harm you. But that would sound like you want to walk away the moment you’re free.”

His tone almost sounded… timid.

Like a child saying, I’ll be better, so please don’t stop playing with me.

Of course, this conversation was far sharper, far darker than that—but still.

Earlier, he had flatly said “no” when I asked if he trusted me. Yet now he was asking if I would abandon him.

Humans really are impossible to read.

Maybe he just saw me as a useful healer—too valuable to lose, if not exactly a “friend.” I could only smile vaguely.

I had said I wanted to stay here long-term, but who knew? If a foreign guild offered me better conditions, things might change.

As if sensing my silence, his gaze flickered. Then, in a low murmur, he said:

“…Don’t throw me away.”

“…Sorry?”

“Even if you grow strong enough to threaten me—don’t leave. When that day comes, I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

“…Yes.”

“You can go now.”

* * *

Yeom Yea-ah left.

There was still a puzzled look on her face, as if wondering, What on earth was that man talking about? But Jung Hwan-jae ignored it.

Silence fell. Naturally—he was alone in the room.

Or… he should have been. If he were truly alone, there would be no noisy chat window flashing in front of his eyes.

[Lucy: That line wasn’t very good. Pretty outdated, honestly.]

“…”

[Lucy: Though, I guess to her, it might’ve sounded like a guy confessing love at first sight.]

Jung Hwan-jae averted his gaze. He clearly had no interest in engaging. The taunting chat window fizzled into static and blurred out.

In its place, a shadow perched on the edge of his desk. A perfect silhouette, features indiscernible—eyes, nose, mouth erased.

Its sinister gaze swept him from head to toe.

But the man, clearly used to this, didn’t even flinch. Their relationship, anyone could see, was far from amicable.

“I went so far as to manifest myself, and this is how coldly you treat me? Even after I’ve been opening pocket dimensions for you, letting you slip around unnoticed?”

“I appreciate that much.”

“Then shouldn’t you at least treat me with a little affection? What, you don’t like this form? It’s perfect for hiding in plain sight.”

The shadow circled the desk lazily, then seeped seamlessly into Jung Hwan-jae’s own shadow. To an onlooker, nothing would seem amiss.

But when he didn’t so much as twitch, the figure gave a heavy sigh and leapt back out.

“…Lucy.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop teasing.”

Shrinking down, the shadow transformed into a small reaper doll and plopped onto the back of his hand. The deep masculine voice shifted into that of a mischievous boy.

Perched there, kicking its little legs, Lucy peered at him.

His assigned assistant—once a handler, now a loyal summoned companion.