Being A Full-Time Employee C16

Chapter 16

There was a dagger—in my bag.
Dungeons were disasters, equal parts misfortune and calamity. Not just Bureau-affiliated hunters but even civilians lived with a constant undercurrent of unease. For me, of course, it went without saying—so I carried a dagger, both as self-defense and as a kind of talisman. How Wonu knew about it, I wasn’t sure.

But that wasn’t the point. I was about to shove him away when I felt his arm still trembling. Instead of pushing, my hand shifted into a pat. He had nearly killed someone in his sleep. He was only twenty—still young. No wonder he was trembling.

There’d once been a survey, directed at hunters.

1. Have you ever thought of yourself as a monster?
   A. Yes (82%). No (7%). Unsure (11%).

Whether Wonu had been around to answer that survey, whether he had responded at all—I didn’t know. But I was certain of one thing: there’s no way he would’ve answered “No.”

The moment we stepped into the infirmary, I got an earful.
“Fighting at the crack of dawn, were you?!”

The medical officer, notorious for speaking informally to everyone, barked at us. I had no defense. Wonu, bandaged by the nurse, kept sneaking guilty glances my way, and I felt every one.

“Who started it?”

I raised my hand quietly before he could open his mouth. His eyes widened, about to argue—so I cut him off.

“He snores too loud. I threw a phone at him.”
“You should’ve just endured!”
“Endure? Could you sleep through that racket right beside your bed, sir?”
“…Wait. Right beside? You two share the same bed?”

The officer glanced at our charts, then let out a long, suspicious ahh. The sound alone made my skin crawl.

“What are you thinking?”
“Nothing. It makes sense now. Sure, that’s how it is.”

So he thought we were covering up a sexual relationship disguised as ‘guiding.’ It wasn’t uncommon—plenty of partners had no feelings but still crossed physical lines if compatibility was high, all under the excuse of stabilization. Pretend it’s nothing the very next day. Here? Commonplace.

But us? We hadn’t even gone further than holding hands!

“That’s not what happened.”
“I understand. You don’t have to explain.”

Damn it, that made it sound even worse. Stop explaining and it sounds guilty. Keep explaining and it sounds guilty. At this point, it would’ve been less frustrating to just actually sleep with him. Not that I would.

“Unless it was something else? Like… he started hurling powers in his sleep and you threw a glass to defend yourself?”

The officer chuckled, amused at his own joke. Wonu gave me an openly guilty look and I felt my face sour. The officer’s laughter died, his head cocked creepily as he asked:

“Why do you look like that?”
“Because what you said was so ridiculous! Ha, ha…!”

I forced out an awkward laugh. Then kicked Wonu’s shin under the table. He echoed my laugh, mechanical like a vending machine. Thankfully, the officer wasn’t the curious sort; his interest fizzled out quickly. A professional who did just his job, nothing more. Thank god.

Yawning openly, he dabbed at Wonu’s wound. The soaked cotton revealed a scab almost already closed. His healing was faster than most hunters. Forehead cuts bled long and hard, but Wonu’s had practically stopped already.

“Want disinfectant painted?”
“No. It’s fine.”

Wonu replied coolly, even raising his hand to blot what little blood remained—until I caught his wrist. The sharp smack broke into awkward silence.

“It could get infected…”

It was a silence with no reason to exist, but it spread awkwardly all the same. He stared a moment, then suddenly leaned in, pressed his lips to the inside of my wrist, and kissed. Damp and rough, sending cold shivers racing down my spine.

“AAAHH!”
“What the hell?!”

The officer yelped along with me. Wonu only grinned like he’d gotten away with something.

“When you do it, it’s fine, but when I do it, it’s weird?”
“I only touch during guiding—mutual, consensual guiding!”
“Well, I need guiding right now.”

I swore I could practically hear a pitiful whine in his voice. My hand still tingled where his lips had been. I clutched it, aghast.

“I have to initiate—with that intent.”
“Then should I let you, right now?”

The sly tone hinted at shamelessness, like he was daring me to try. I shook my head furiously.

“No. Hunter Chae Wonu, you are perfectly healthy. Extremely healthy.”

Ridiculous antics and thoughtless words—this was just who he was. He pursed his lips, teeth grinding in frustration, then stood.

“Fine. Let’s go eat.”
“…Eat?”
“Breakfast. We have to eat.”

His unexpectedly normal suggestion reminded me just how famished I was.

“Today’s menu—mini pork cutlets.”

The officer sipped his coffee, as though declaring treasure.

“Really?”

My face grew serious. Mini cutlets? Joy lit my chest. People said you eventually grew to like vegetables and bitter foods, but I still adored the kids’ menu.

A ghost of a voice echoed in memory.
‘You can’t live off junk forever—it’ll ruin your health.’

The teasing voice of my mother. She’d eaten greens with smug laughter, swearing I’d understand when older. Look at me now, Mom. Still crazy about nuggets and cutlets.

“Why are you so late? I saved cutlets for you.”
“Ah, thank you!”

I smiled wide, handing over my tray. My plate grew weighty as a generous pile landed. Bliss.

“And this is your new partner?”
“Yes.”

Polite outside, uneasy inside. If Wonu had been living here long, how come they didn’t know his face? Still, I masked my thoughts, sliding his tray forward.

“He’s still growing. Give him extra.”
“Eat well, then. Take care.”

To my surprise, Wonu hesitated, then replied in forced, awkward mimicry of my tone:
“Th… thank you.”

Silence thickened. Both me and the server. It sounded more like a servant’s grovel than anything else.

Eventually we carried our trays away. As he almost muttered something absurd about food rolling off trays, I yanked him along.

“Sit here.”

Now we ate side by side. In the past, meals had always split after contracts. Sitting next to a partner like this—it had been a long time. Truthfully? Not unwelcome. Perhaps… I didn’t actually dislike him.

“Eat well,” I said, pushing his tray straight on the table. He looked at me with those doe eyes, then shyly murmured,
“You too, hyung.”

Why shy? And why was I smiling in response?

“Hunter Chae.”
“Yes?”

He answered mid-bite.
“Nothing. Eat up.”
“Yes.”

I almost asked, ‘Do you really like me that much?’ Caught myself in time. This wasn’t romance. No harem game. I shook my head, sank teeth into a piece of cutlet. Greasy, cheap, delicious—the source of happiness sat right in my tray.

“Hyung, if I sleep-talk again tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Then just shoot me with a tranquilizer.”
“…What?”
“Tranquilizer gun. Ask on the 4th floor—they’ll give you one.”
“Are you insane?”
“It’s the most effective.”
“…I’m pretending I didn’t hear that.”

Did this kid want to ruin breakfast? I dragged ketchup zigzag across his cutlet, glaring.

“You’re not an elephant in a zoo. No one’s darting you like an animal. Just sleep peacefully. I won’t drink before bed from now on either. Let’s both forget this morning as an accident.”
“That’s impossible.”

Wonu’s flat reply ended the matter.

Footnotes

¹ “Red medicine” (빨간약) – Old-fashioned Korean nickname for antiseptic mercurochrome. Commonly used by medical officers to easily disinfect cuts.