Hero’s Child C17

Chapter 17

Most of the world’s renowned heroes had passed through Korea’s prestigious Seonghwa Hero University, the most celebrated institution in Asia. The usual route was straightforward: complete the standard four-year curriculum, obtain a hero license, and begin one’s career. Exceptionally gifted students, however, were often scouted as sidekicks before graduation.

In that sense, Min Noah was a national icon. He had earned his hero license at the age of eighteen and entered the battlefield immediately—a prodigy, the kind that appeared once in a generation.

“Hero Ha Uichan.”

Hearing the call, Uichan looked up from the exam sheet in his hands. Noah was sitting beside him, smiling.

“Just Uichan is fine. You don’t need to call me ‘hero.’”

“Then… should I call you hyung? You’re two years older than me, after all.”

Uichan almost waved his hands to refuse, but realized there was no other fitting title. Hyung. Right. Noah was two years younger.

When he’d heard someone from Roti, Noah’s hero agency, was coming to pick him up, it hadn’t been hard to guess who it would be. Noah often took contracts that involved him—and personally came to escort him to the site.

Among the Big Three Heroes, Noah had been the first to subcontract work to Nonhier. Back then, Uichan hadn’t understood his motive. But looking back, he realized they’d met once before—at that fateful party. Perhaps Noah had felt pity and kept offering work since then.

After all, Nonhier was a struggling, near-bankrupt agency. Maybe Noah simply wanted to help.

“Uichan-hyung, don’t you need an ability today?”

Uichan blinked at him. “No, I already borrowed one from our team leader. It’s fine.”

“My ability would probably be more useful. It’s flight.”

Technically, his power was wind manipulation, but flight was part of its scope, so it wasn’t wrong.

They were sitting in the waiting room of Seonghwa Hero University—Noah’s personal waiting room, apparently, since it was unusually spacious and empty except for them.

“As you probably saw in the briefing,” Noah continued, “today’s a mock hero exam. It’s being run jointly with nearby schools, so we’re using a grading system. Each supervisor is assigned three examinees. Having flight makes it easier to oversee multiple groups.”

Every semester, Seonghwa University hosted mock hero exams, and when the number of participants exceeded the school’s capacity, they brought in external supervisors.

Noah had recommended Uichan for the role. A hero who could temporarily copy others’ abilities was perfect for the job.

Of course, there were limits: each copied ability lasted only about twenty minutes, and its power was always weaker than the original user’s.

“It’s fine, Noah. I’m more comfortable with abilities I already know,” Uichan said.

“Oh… so you can’t use copied powers proficiently right away?”

“Not usually. It takes time to adjust, so I’d rather not risk it.”

“Then how about I teach you?”

“…Sorry?”

Blinking behind his glasses, Uichan looked up. Noah’s expression was unexpectedly serious.

“Just try it once. If it doesn’t work, we stop. What matters is the attempt.”

Noah held out his hand. Uichan hesitated. That hand, marked with faint scars, reached out and gently helped him to his feet.

A thought slipped through Uichan’s mind unbidden—I hope the babies never have to live with scars like that.

Maybe he’d keep them far away from this life. Yes, that was a good idea. No hero work. Maybe art, or music. Something peaceful. But… what if they inherited their fathers’ faces—too beautiful, too striking? Wouldn’t that make them targets? Then again, maybe teaching them to defend themselves wouldn’t be so bad…

“Come on,” Noah urged. “If we don’t start now, I won’t have time to supervise you.”

“I didn’t even say yes—”

“I’m just going to hold your hands, hyung.”

Before he could argue, Noah’s firm hands enclosed his own. Uichan stiffened, his words caught in his throat.

“Try it,” Noah said softly, eyes glinting with mischief.

With a reluctant sigh, Uichan activated his copying ability. The slot filled instantly, the wind affinity settling into his body.

Fwoooosh—

A gentle green wind stirred, swirling around him like a living thing.

“The output’s weaker,” Noah observed, “but it suits your control level. You can handle it.”

The breeze caressed Uichan’s body, warm and soft like spring air. Guided by Noah’s steady hand, his feet began to lift from the ground, light as petals caught in a current.

“You’re doing well,” Noah said. “I’ll let go now—try balancing on your own.”

For a few unsteady moments, Uichan wobbled, struggling to stay upright. Each time he faltered, large hands steadied him by the waist, setting him straight again. Occasionally, Noah murmured something under his breath.

“…Even slimmer than I thought,” he muttered quietly.

Uichan, too busy keeping his balance, didn’t catch it. Not that it mattered.

Predictably, using an unfamiliar ability was difficult. After a while, he managed to hover clumsily, but it was exhausting. So this was what flight felt like—it looked graceful, but required immense control.

“Actually,” Noah said casually, holding his hand again, “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Go ahead.”

“I heard Blacktan has been subcontracting work to your office lately. Since when did you two get close?”

“We’re not close.”

“Then you don’t know each other?”

“I do. But we’re not friends—it’s just a professional relationship.”

“Ah, a simple work partnership.” Noah smiled faintly. “So when did you first meet him? There must’ve been some contact point.”

“Why are you asking that?”

Uichan hesitated. Officially, he’d met Blacktan as a Nonhier employee about a month ago. But unofficially… their true first meeting had been two months earlier—on that night. That made the question unexpectedly awkward.

“No special reason,” Noah said lightly. “It’s just… Blacktan and I are looking for the same thing.”

“…Excuse me?”

“There’s something I’ve been searching for,” Noah continued. “But the strange thing is—I can’t find any trace of it. No sound, no image, nothing. I only remember how it felt. The texture. I think I’d recognize it by touch.”

Uichan’s pulse jumped. He tried not to tighten his grip on Noah’s hand. Everyone knew what—or rather, who—Noah was looking for: Under Doom.

If both he and Blacktan were after the same target, that could only mean one thing—conflict over the ownership of the same person.

Neither of them had seen Under Doom’s face clearly that night. Which meant both were still chasing a phantom—him.

“…And what will you do when you find it?” Uichan asked, keeping his tone even.

“Well… talk, I suppose.”

“Talk? With Under Doom?”

“Yeah. I fought Phantom Thief Kill once, a few years ago—back when I was still new. Got completely wrecked,” Noah admitted with a laugh. “He tried to kill me afterward since I was a witness, but Under Doom stepped in and saved me.”

Uichan blinked, mind racing. Saved him? I… saved him? He couldn’t recall such an event at all.

“I was just a teenager back then,” Noah continued. “Barely of age.”

“When was this?”

“About two and a half years ago? Before I made a name as Noatis. You wouldn’t have heard of it—it was kind of… my embarrassing rookie era.”

“…”

If Noah had started hero work at eighteen, that meant this happened right around then—before he officially became famous. But even as a novice, he’d been exceptional. Uichan remembered: his control over his wind ability had been unmatched from the start.

“So I’ve always wanted to talk to him again,” Noah said quietly. “I don’t think Under Doom’s inherently evil. The idea of someone like him being trapped with In the Hell… it just doesn’t sit right with me. But every time he sees me, he runs away. Maybe he thinks I’ll kill him.”

“Noah,” Uichan said slowly, “if your version of ‘talking’ involves capturing him first… doesn’t that sound more like an interrogation?”

He hadn’t realized how tightly his fingers had curled until Noah laughed softly and unfolded them one by one.

“You’re right. From his perspective, that’s exactly what it’d look like—dragging him in, tying him to a chair, questioning him under lights.” He smiled ruefully. “That’s not what I want, though. I never thought that far ahead. I just assumed we’d meet by chance… on the street or something.”

Even he seemed to find the thought absurd, chuckling to himself before falling silent, gaze lowered in thought.

Uichan dispelled the borrowed wind, his feet touching the ground. He needed to release Noah’s hand—before his pulse betrayed him.

Then Noah looked up again, eyes thoughtful.

“Now that I think about it,” he murmured, “it’d probably be safer if I took responsibility for him. I mean, if I do find him. I haven’t really thought about how I’d handle it—ownership, containment, things like that—but… I could provide for him, make sure he’s comfortable. Though of course, he wouldn’t be free to come and go as he pleases.”

“…Noah, that sounds a lot like imprisonment.”