Being A Full-Time Employee C34

Chapter 34

It almost felt like our roles had switched—once, Wonu had been the docile one at the Bureau and I the reluctant, unwilling subordinate.

“Stop sulking and tell me what you thought of the movie yesterday. I didn’t really hear. I like that series, but since it was your first film, I ended up barely watching—felt like I saw the whole thing through my nose.”
“It was my first movie.”
“Not just that, you haven’t seen any of the previous entries either.”
“Exactly. It was the first movie I’ve ever seen.”

We were standing in a bright corridor where sunlight streamed in through full-length windows. I turned in surprise. Light caught on his long lashes as they curved upwards, impossibly pretty.

“Since I met you, I’ve done a lot of things for the first time.”

He looked like he was dreaming—not the vacant, stupid kind of daze, but full of some soft, unreal joy. The smile lifting his lips and the deeper glint in his eyes stole my words away.

I wasn’t much more experienced than him. Sure, I’d done things anyone might have by now: normal, everyday things. Watching movies on weekends, eating fast food, nothing so grand as flights overseas or cruises.

“I’d never seen a film, and even that McMorning? That was my first too.”
“….”
“That’s why I didn’t want to say anything. Slaying hundreds, thousands of monsters, going through endless tests, choking down side effects—that’s routine. But these things…? I don’t want to share. I guess that’s the word. I don’t want to share this part of me.”

I stood silent, realizing that this absurdly beautiful man had literally never known the simplest of ordinary firsts.

“That’s why I just… I want every day to be like this.” His voice wavered. “I think… I’m falling for you. Or maybe… maybe I liked you from the very first?”
“…How would I know? You can fall at first sight too.”

I forced out a joke.

“Look at me—I am that handsome.”

A cheap, weak joke. But he laughed wide anyway.

“Maybe that’s it. Turns out, you’re my type.”

I knew he didn’t mean my face alone. He was building himself around me. As if I’d carved a door into his previously blank world, and rather than opening it, he’d simply decided to love the one who had given him the door.

I couldn’t breathe. The blind devotion was suffocating—and yet, so was the rush of superiority in being someone’s first, being irreplaceable.

“…Shit.”

He startled at the sudden curse.

“I must be a pervert, Chae Wonu.”

Would I feel this way if anyone else adored me? No. It was you I liked—whether because you’re the strongest hunter, because you’re stunning, because you matched with me in bed—I didn’t know. I just knew I liked you.

Wonu tilted his head, then nodded.

“I remember you saying your kink was hearing dirty things from me.”
“…You remember everything, huh.”
“I’ll remember it all. And what I forget, I’ll recall.”

“…Alright.”

I bit back the selfish words I almost said: Even if you get another partner someday, remember me. It was too heavy. Too sour.

For the first time in years, I almost understood what he meant—that maybe, every day could just be like this.

Suddenly, the world broke.

“…Hyung. Hyung!”

Like being dragged from deep water—I came to. Sound seeped back into my ears slowly, muffled at first, then rushing in. I thought I opened my eyes, but nothing stirred—they might as well not exist. Panic rose, hot.

Then the shrill beeping alarms sharpened into focus, dragging closer. Delayed responses, dulled senses. Broken? Was this it for me?

My side burned like fire, distant from me, like it belonged to someone else. Too much pain everywhere, the sum evaporating into numbness.

It hit me: the sound. The vitals alarm. This time the life collapsing was mine. Which meant Wonu was nearby.

I tried to call him—choked instead on blood gushing up my throat.

“Don’t move.”

His voice pressed close. Wonu. His voice—I’d never heard it like this. Not crying, but trembling, frantic, struggling to hold steady under catastrophe.

I spat the clot, whispered weakly. He leaned ear to my foul lips, understood anyway.

“My eyes are fine. It’s just… too much blood loss.”

Relieved, I smiled. Whether he saw it as a smile—I couldn’t know.

“Your head’s bleeding badly. But worse is your side—you were ripped by a vine monster. Not a wide wound, but deep. I cauterized it. You lost consciousness before I did it.”

Thank god. Burn pain was hell itself—I’d passed out before I knew.

“Remember?”

I shook my head the barest millimeter.

“We were dispatched as combat team into a C-class dungeon. Another raid team entered alongside. Then an A-class monster appeared out of nowhere. Giant size. Slow to move but tremendous power. Attacks with long cooldowns. Weak point unknown. It attacked instantly. Teams split. You were grabbed by a parasitic vine beast. That’s when you got hurt.”

This was no fool now. Wonu was calm, precise—reporting systematically, handling logistics, even briefing me. More seasoned than any hunter I’d met. The idiot face was gone; here was only a professional.

“I thought you’d die.”
“But I didn’t. If I get out alive, the Bureau will patch me back up. You know how valuable I am.”

Not to mention, I was the only person who could stabilize him. I had to live. Part of me even wanted to live—for him.

I squeezed his hand, dragging breath.

“Did you find the core?”

He shook his head. In a C-class dungeon that was strange—the core should be so small-scale they’re located in minutes. If it didn’t appear here, then…

“…Then maybe the A-class is the core.”

Unprecedented. But dungeons had only been studied seriously a decade. Mystery, unpredictability—always the truth.

He nodded instantly.

“Help me up.”

He held my waist, eased me against a tree. I ordered him to open my belt—pulling out both the stimulant (Up) to move and depressant (Down) to dull the agony. A suicidal mixture—but death was worse.

“If I end up hospitalized, bring me something expensive.”
“I’ll come every day.”

He fumbled with the syringe caps, nervous. I wanted to say not every day—but imagined the long, dull hours of a ward without him. No… every day might be good.

“Brace yourself.”
“Like I have any other option?”
“Hyung never shuts up, even now.”

Good. I wanted to leave something behind. When dungeons collapse, even bodies vanish. I wanted to exist longer than that.

The needle plunged into my thigh. My head spun bright and wild.

“We’re the combat team. Copy to raid team.”

I staggered as I called out, aligning with the other trapped group. Both sides had already sought each other—the dungeon was odd. GPS worked; buffs didn’t. Which meant only human grit and recklessness mattered.

“He’ll have to push harder than usual,” I muttered.

Bad news came carrying companions.

“Are you injured?”

Wonu asked stiffly. The esper from the other team extended his leg, torn vertically. Ugly, but not severe.

“Not many chances left.”

The esper was older, late thirties, maybe forties.