Hero’s Child C16

Chapter 16

Since ancient times, it was said that old things carried spiritual energy.

Even in an era where superhumans were as common as pebbles on the street, the world still witnessed inexplicable, supernatural phenomena. Historical relics steeped in time, or sacred natural objects once worshiped by humans, would sometimes awaken one day, taking physical form. It no longer surprised anyone.

But old things bring calamity.
Those born of condensed spirit energy carry misfortune, bringing ruin upon villages and devouring human souls. People called such beings Dongti—omens of disaster.

The one Ha Uichan pursued, Aengak, was also a Dongti—born from a thousand-year-old tree.

“Who could’ve guessed,” muttered a man with dark shadows under his eyes, his voice heavy with gloom. “That Aengak would turn into a monster capable of shaking the modern world. Not that he’s the only one—these days, we get reports of hauntings and cursed awakenings almost daily…”

Uichan sat on a bench, setting down the lunchbox he’d wrapped neatly in cloth.

“Yesterday, lightning struck a shrine in Japan, and apparently a yokai walked right out of it. Three heroes fought it and ended up in the hospital. The spirit had been sleeping inside an old sake cup—it woke up after a thousand years. I’m telling you, it’s the end of days.”

“Nothing new,” Uichan replied calmly, unwrapping his lunch. Across from him, the weary-eyed man glanced at the tiered lunchbox with something like awe.

“Three tiers today, huh? Fancy.”

In front of them stood an old three-story building. On the second floor, a detective agency displayed signs like ‘We collect debts!’ and ‘We solve your noise complaints!’
Next door, separated by a thin wall, was the Nonhier Office, its spotless glass windows gleaming—thanks to their overly tidy team leader.

“Don’t ask me why I brought up Aengak,” the man grumbled. “I haven’t slept in two days because of him. Songhee noona’s been nagging me to invent some kind of lens that shoots lasers from your eyes and measures an enemy’s power level on the spot. If I could make that, I’d be working for Noatis Industries, not sitting here whining.”

Uichan began setting out the small compartments of his lunch neatly on the bench and handed a spoon to his companion. The man hesitated but soon shook his head, seemingly too dispirited to eat.

“At least you didn’t spill anything today,” Uichan remarked.

“My poor Uichan… never listens to me,” the man sighed.

As Uichan lined up the three tiers, perfectly in order, a series of delicately prepared side dishes came into view. He poured himself a small cup of warm water from a thermos and lifted his chopsticks.

“Egg rolls today, huh… You always roll them so neatly. I could never do that. I’m not even worthy of being your toenail dust,” the man lamented dramatically.

“What are you talking about? You’re good with your hands. You make all the best support gear,” Uichan said, eating a bite of vegetables and egg roll.

He felt the weight of someone’s gaze. Next to him, a foreigner with black hair sat hunched, hugging his knees and staring up at him with pitiful blue eyes.

Though his hair was as black as any Asian’s, his features were distinctly Western—sharp nose, deep-set eyes, and striking blue irises that gleamed like crystal.

“When the next equipment boom hits, I’ll be the first one buried under it… You know Tuvalu, right? That island that’ll be the first to sink from global warming? That’s me,” he said miserably.

He was a graduate of Asia’s top hero academy—but eternally branded a failing student. Not because he lacked talent. In fact, every piece of support gear Uichan owned had come from his hands.

“I’m… I’m a hopeless nerd!”

He dropped his forehead against his knees with a dull thud and started to cry.

Park Rion, hero name Guion, was a black-haired foreigner who had grown up in Korea and was Korean at heart. Uichan glanced at him, intending to comfort him, but Rion abruptly looked up, eyes shining like a sunflower.

“You’re going to Seonghwa University today, right? Can I come too? I want to get advice from a professor!”

“I doubt it. The professors are all at the training grounds for mock exams today—they probably won’t have time.”

“Then why are you the only one invited to supervise the hero exam? Why not me? It’s so unfair!”

“It’s not an invitation, it’s a job request,” Uichan explained mildly. “They said they were short on field exam supervisors, so they reached out to different offices.”

“Don’t give me that! I bet Noatis arranged it again, didn’t he? I’m telling you, there’s something weird about that guy! First it was just Noatis giving us jobs, now even Blacktan! And yesterday I heard La Épée’s side sent a request too! What’s with that, huh? They’re all after something—and I bet it’s you!”

Rion clung to Uichan’s leg, shaking him desperately.

“Think about it! Why would they give work to a tiny office in the middle of nowhere? And why do they always ask for you specifically? It’s like Hansel and Gretel—they’re fattening you up to eat you later!”

“They haven’t eaten me yet. Besides, I’ve got plenty of fat already,” Uichan said wryly.

“What fat?! You’re flat as a board!”

As he popped a halved cherry tomato into his mouth, Uichan blinked and looked down at his stomach. After a brief pause, he placed a hand on it.

“…Guess the tomatoes are good for you two. You’re both calm today.”

“My dear Uichan… tomatoes matter more to you than my advice, huh?”

Rion looked half-laughing, half-crying, dabbing at his eyes. Maybe he’d finally gone mad from being nagged by three-legged tiger prototypes all day.

Uichan reached for another tomato. Just as he was about to lift it, the fruit slipped from his chopsticks, bounced off the cloth, and rolled across the bench. He picked it up, ready to eat it—

“Don’t eat that!” Rion shouted, smacking it out of his hand. “Why would you eat something that fell?! This is why I can’t relax when you eat! Don’t pick food off the ground—it’s dirty!”

“It’s smooth on the outside. It’s fine,” Uichan said lightly.

“Oh, don’t you dare! Don’t think I forgot the time you dropped a steamed bun, peeled the outer layer, and ate it anyway!”

Uichan sighed, giving up on the tomato now buried in dirt. Instead, he reached for a neatly pan-fried slice of meat. But before he could take a bite, the glass window of the building in front of them slid open with a loud slam.

Clatter—bang!

“Where’s the kid? Hey, over there! Uichan! Eat up quick—Roti’s coming to pick you up soon! Get ready!”

Song Ojun leaned halfway out the office window, hollering across the park. Rion flinched so hard his shoulders jerked, while Uichan looked down at the piece of meat that had slipped from his chopsticks again. This time it had fallen between the bench and the cloth.

“…”

Rion groaned beside him, clutching his head with his hands. Assuming he wouldn’t notice, Uichan swiftly reached out with his chopsticks to retrieve the fallen food and bring it to his mouth—

“Don’t eat that!”

A firm hand intercepted him. His wrist was caught, just inches from his face, the food still dangling between the chopsticks.

The hand gripping him was cool, faintly scented with wind and sunlight. It was so large that even when wrapped around his wrist, two fingers still overlapped.

“Eating something you dropped again?”

The voice was soft, teasing. The scent of dried sunlight mixed with something crisp and clean. Uichan slowly looked up.

Gentle eyes curved into a smile. Brown curls framed his face, three earrings gleaming along a plump earlobe. His green eyes shimmered like spring leaves—warm, bright, and maddeningly alive.

“Didn’t I tell you not to do that?”

Noatis—no, Min Noah—leaned over the back of the bench, smiling down at him.

Rion froze mid-motion, letting out a strangled scream before scrambling away on his knees. From the office window, Song Ojun flailed his arms, shouting, “Ah! You’re here, sir!” with frantic politeness.

Uichan lowered his gaze, watching the small patch of grass at his feet. The piece of meat that had fallen dangled loosely from Noah’s hand—then rolled off his palm onto the dirt, burying itself in the soil as though trying to hide.

Uichan sighed helplessly. It really was getting impossible to eat a full meal these days.

The sun was already leaning westward. If he wanted to make it to the testing grounds on time, he needed to finish up soon. With a resigned sigh, he gave up on the fallen food and looked up again.

“If your hand’s too weak, should I feed you myself?”

“…No, thank you. My strength’s perfectly fine,” Uichan replied dryly.

Noah took a seat beside him, studying each side dish with childlike curiosity. He didn’t seem to be leaving until Uichan finished. His complexion was radiant today—clear skin, flushed cheeks, the picture of health. Even his frame looked broader, stronger.

For some reason, Uichan found himself wishing the babies inside him would grow as sturdily as Noah looked right now.

Today would involve more physical work than usual; even so, he couldn’t leave his food unfinished just because someone had come to fetch him.

So he tightened his grip on the lunchbox and began eating with determined focus.

Not a single grain of rice was left when he was done.