Being A Full-Time Employee C19

 Chapter 19

Maybe it was because I’d burned out so much focus during shooting drills, but my brain felt soft, relaxed, almost pliable. I shook my head with a lazy smile.

“Eh. That won’t do.”

Sipping the suddenly precious water, I raised two fingers.

“You shouldn’t just draw water for me, Hunter Chae. You’ve really got an incredible gift—you see why elementals are held in such regard.”

Hunters weren’t quite people, weren’t quite beasts… they were more like objects, in a way. Guides, too, weren’t much different. Within that framing, Wonu was a priceless tool. Both to common people’s eyes, and, certainly, to the Bureau’s.

I lowered the cup with a wry smile. He was staring straight at me.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Because if it comes down to it… it could just be you and me left.”

There were other water manipulators out there. Not many could conjure water from nothing like he could, but surely some could purify dirty water. So the chance of it being just us two was pretty much zero.

But there was no point arguing it at length. Might make me sound arrogant. So I only shrugged.

“Well, what’s it matter? I feel safe, and you don’t need to worry about shock. Works out both ways.”

He grinned radiantly. As if, at the prospect of being last of humanity, he were hearing a fairy tale with a happy ending. I shoved a cheap chewy candy into his open mouth.

“Better that we pray it never comes to that.”
“…Mm, yes.”

Somehow, he seemed unusually docile today. Or perhaps just tired—distracted, drained.

I picked up my tray. I felt exhausted myself. Yesterday had been… chaotic. Early rest would do us good.

“All done? Get up, let’s go.”

He yawned, nodded dopily. See? I knew he was sleepy.

After my shower, I found him dozing, head lolling. Drying my hair, I approached, careful. Best not to wake him with a jolt—not unless I wanted a repeat of this morning. If his defense reflex triggered, it could mean injury. Maybe death.

“Hunter Chae, go to bed.”

“…”

“Hm.” His eyelids twitched. Not fully unconscious. Maybe I could risk shaking him awake? Still, my hand hovered, then retreated. Hovered again.

“Wonu.”

I bent close, whispered softly. Drew the syllables long, one by one. His eyelashes trembled. Getting through. I reached to touch his cheek. The moment my fingers brushed—

“…Hyung.”

His hand shot up, seized my wrist, twisted. His eyes blinked open, dazed.

“Ah… sorry. Sorry! I hurt you?”

He scrambled upright awkwardly, still half-asleep. My heart hammered, but I hid it. His pale, stricken expression this morning hadn’t left me—it clearly hadn’t left him either.

He stumbled back, even paler than before.

“Sorry.”

“All this noise over a wrist grab? Don’t make me embarrassed.”

It wasn’t broken, but a bad sprain could’ve been possible. How high defense reactions spiked hunter reflexes was still research territory. If I’d been weaker, my wrist might’ve snapped.

“Go sleep. You’ll get a stiff neck like that.”

Head down, hands hidden behind his back, he nodded miserably. Most hunters would already be clutching my wrist, asking forgiveness, eyes wet. But not him—he couldn’t lift his head at all.

I… felt sorry for him.

I fetched a cup of lukewarm water from the kitchen, brought it over. Held it out with my uninjured hand.

“First time with a partner, right?”

I said it levelly. Tried to. My chest was still racing.

“You’ll make mistakes. That’s why we do matching training. Just sleep tonight. That’s enough.”

Slowly, he stood. Lowered eyes fixed on my hand, then covered it with his as he took the cup.

“Hyung. Good night.”

As common as ‘good night’ was, spoken so earnestly, it was near a spell. If I didn’t return it, it felt like he’d weep. I nodded. As he retreated to his room, I answered quietly:

“You too, Hunter Chae. Sleep well.”

We’d shared a dorm for days, yet this was our first exchange of ‘good night.’

I let my hand drop, sheepish.

[Matching Test and Training Process – Delayed: TBD]

Another notice. How many times now? I crunched the last of the ice from my cup and realized—this was the third postponement. Weekly training was never delayed three times.

The coffee drained dry, I loaded another capsule. No point in asking for reasons. Since becoming Wonu’s partner, walls closed in at every turn. “Confidential.” “Not for disclosure.”

Not unheard of… but it irked me more than ever. Strange things happened around him.

“Delayed again…”

Still, I dialed Training Dept. Keystrokes rattled; my cup filled with ice and fresh shots poured as the line clicked.

“Yes, hello, this is Guide Yang Baekgyeom, code—”

I rattled off my new number. A pause, then redirect.

—“Special Hunter Division, clerk Lee Min-young speaking.”

“Guide Yang Baekgyeom. Partner is Hunter Chae Wonu. Code is—”

—“Ah! No need, Guide Yang. What’s the issue?”

Her tone shifted abruptly. Odd, but Wonu was famous enough—for face, for quirks, for powers, or all together.

“My partner training schedule keeps being delayed. Guide metrics state: three sessions weekly, plus two after deployment. Isn’t that mandatory?”

—“One moment…”

Soft mutter, typing noises. Uneasy tones followed.

—“…You said partner?”
“Yes.”
—“…And you are Guide Yang Baekgyeom.”

Skepticism coated the voice. Contract or not, my tenure was long. Nothing suspicious.

“Yes. Problem?”

—“Mm… No. It only says: postponed due to personal circumstances of your partner. Did he request medical leave?”

Ah. Now I understood. If his partner had taken leave without my knowledge, me coming here to ask would seem suspicious. But I knew. He hadn’t.

I pressed my thumb against my lips, nodding as though alone, muttered thanks, cut the call.

My reflection in the black screen wore pure disbelief.

“What the hell…?”

In my life, where impossibilities happened daily, still—this was beyond sense.

And the summit of nonsense came from Wonu himself.

Returning late, drained, I saw his shoes. But not him. Door closed, locked. It had been three days since his face showed.

I stood before it. Raised my hand to knock. Paused, lowered. Lifted again. Four tries.

“Hunter Chae.”

Finally, I leaned in and called softly.

Movement inside.

“You doing okay?”
“….”
“You get hit with monster spit or something? Injured? Transformed?”
“…No.”
“Even if you turned into a monster, you’d still be my partner.”

At least until the year-long contract expired.

I sounded like I was trying to convince myself.

“If there’s trouble, say it. Let me help.”
“Don’t worry… I’m still pretty.”

…Pretty?

Was I really so worried? Thinking back, I always paused by his door. Took out two spoons, two bowls before remembering. Yeah—I’d been worrying.

And he knew.

Still pretty, he said? Pretty and cute… Yes. Maybe he was.