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Every once in a while, you think back to the timid hunter you've met in the past.
You don't know why— can't tell why your mind is so fixated on the boy who looked like he'd fall over like a deck of cards by just a mere flick of a finger.
The downcast look on his injured face, the tuft of soft hair sticking out underneath the blue hood of his jacket, framing his face in a way that made him look decades younger than what he truly is.
His appearance was forgettable, so forgettable that you don't even remember how he looks like.
But it was his eyes, the all consuming void within them that caught your attention, sent your mind spiralling— a restless sort of yearning to look into those stormy grey eyes once again.
Not quite an obsession, you'd say, but definitely more than a fleeting thought that faded after a few weeks. It’s more like a hyperfixation—one that’s persisted for years.
Sometimes, you find yourself laughing at how ridiculous you're being— why does your mind keep on showing you that memory? It's not like what happened was so shocking, humorous, or sorrowful. It was a day like any other, a mundane routine with an equally mundane series of events.
You remember meeting that hunter in a dungeon.
As a hunter yourself, you've become accustomed to injuries and bloodshed, it's not something you see a lot in lower ranked gates though.
So you found yourself awfully curious when a boy, not yet a man, got himself injured almost immediately after entering the dungeon.
Your eyes drift to the auburn haired woman healing the poor guy as she spits out fiery comments on how he should be more careful.
You can't help but stare, letting your eyes take in the sight in front of you, a lanky kid dressed in thrifted clothes, the calloused pads of his fingers, his face weathered despite being so young.
His whole being felt like misery incarnate — but for some odd reason, you cannot find it in yourself to feel pity.
Not because you're heartless, no.
It's because he doesn't need it. You instinctively know that the kid wasn't someone you should underestimate, even though his actions and demeanour showed the opposite of what you'd like to believe in.
Actually, maybe you do pity him, just for a different reason entirely.
As you turn to look at the group in front of you, ready to continue the hunt, you catch a glimpse of something within the boy's eyes that made your body shiver, it wasn't fear but something else.
You can't tell what it is.
——
You're seated at one of the many stools just outside the now fully raided gate, it was an easy hunt, barely even worth the sweat.
The boy seemed to be injured all over though, fully unconscious as the auburn haired girl heals him with a grim expression.
How romantic, you muse to yourself, lips twitching to form a smile.
You've never seen someone get so injured over one goblin, it shocked you so much that you had to stop for a moment before swooping in to kill the thing, essentially saving the boy's life.
Well, even if you hadn't saved him, he would have lived. He had a B-ranked healer by his side after all.
An interesting guy for sure, someone you'd want to keep tabs on. And speaking of keeping tabs, you walked around the camp, trying to ask about who he was without making it too obvious. But you're pretty sure everyone can tell what you're doing.
You settled with a man who looked straight out of a shonen manga. If he were in one, he'd definitely be the martial master who dies at the start.
You quickly retract that statement, it's rude to think about someone dying. Even if you were a little rough around the edges, you still have human decency to not think about people dying, okay? You're not a psycho.
You've come to learn that you weren't far off, the man really was a martial master. Song Chi-Yul, but many call him Mr. Song as a sign of respect.
You don't really respect this guy, he hasn't earned it yet, so you've decided to just call him Song.
Song Chi-Yul wore a soft smile when he tells you about the timid boy you met, his eyes full of pity as he recounts the tale of how the poor boy earned the moniker of ‘The Weakest Hunter Of All Mankind’.
Weakest hunter of all mankind? You laugh at that, it was a loud laugh that garnered the attention of the other hunters standing nearby.
“Hey, Song.”
The martial master furrows his brows at your sudden change of attitude, the corners of his mouth pulling to a frown.
“I think that kid is the strongest out of all the hunters in this team.”
Your lips split to a wide grin, teeth bared as you pat Song's back, turning your heel and slowly leaving the camp.
It was really odd and out of character for you, why did you even defend that guy?
Gnawing on your bottom lip, you chide yourself at the irrational stunt you pulled. When have you ever defended someone who didn't even do anything for you? This was weird, even in your standards.
Was it really because of his eyes? You saw it, that determined gaze, clutching at the essence stone in his palm as he looked at somewhere you can't see, somewhere you'll never be able to see.
You would've never thought he was an E-ranked hunter, not with those eyes. You’ve met your fair share of high-ranking hunters, even managed to get an autograph from a national-level hunter, as well as a few S-ranks from Korea.
His eyes were so unlike those high rankers, the complete opposite even. Instead of a confident and relaxed gaze, he showed alertness every moment of the raid, there was never a second his body wasn't tense.
The fact that his eyes held opposite of what the strong had never really made him seem weak. Honestly, you thought it made him look stronger.
He was in an eternal state of survival mode, a person who is so unbelievably weak that he had to work a hundred times harder just to be able to survive.
The way his eyes stared front, as if there was no other way but forward. As if he had no concept of going back, then again, he was already rock bottom, where else could he go but forward?
His eyes aren't clear like those high rankers who already know that they'll get to live another day in an E-ranked dungeon without a single scratch.
His are filled with this fogginess that you can't explain, and yet it held so much emotion.
It did not hold fire, no— his spirit was similar to a blizzard, a slow buildup of ice and snow, killing slowly without its victim noticing.
The indomitable human spirit, lots of people say that it's mankind's own superpower. This boy had a little too much spirit in him, it feels like you could continuously beat him down, knock him to the ground, and he would still stand up.
Sure, he'd probably be limping, maybe even crawling but the point is— he will find a way to keep walking forward.
…Or maybe you're going crazy.
Who knows at this point?
——
Every once in a while, you think back to the timid hunter you've met in the past.
Though, after this, you doubt you’ll do so anytime soon.
In the darkness of your apartment— you are comfortably settled in the cushions of your sofa. A grin sets on your chapped lips as your eyes read the headline of the news, satisfaction coursing through your veins like a tidal wave.
You lean over to your coffee table, your eyes zeroing on the man, no longer a boy, on the television screen. His shocked expression makes you chuckle a bit, it seems he was caught off guard by the flashing cameras.
“Korea's 10th S-Ranker, Sung Jinwoo.”
Oh right, now you remember.
You remember why you were so fixated on such a seemingly normal, nearly pathetic, boy. Why his eyes felt so enchanting to you, to the point it visits your mind weekly like a poltergeist that cannot be exorcised.
Yeah, you remember so clearly that it gave you a whiplash.
Its because you knew he was made for something greater. You pitied him because you knew he could be so much better, so much bigger than what he was right now.
And by god were you so right, he truly was made for something so much better— you just didn't think it'd be this fucking big.
Your eyes glimmer with excitement, “I see you, Sung Jinwoo. I always have.”
Knowing this guy was hot shit might just be the biggest achievment of your life and you don't even feel bad about yourself.
——
In a few months, you'll see him saving countries, clearing S-ranked dungeons by himself, revered and feared by humans and monsters alike— and you'll smile, knowing you were the first to see the diamond in the rough.
Sometimes you'd still think back to the same timid hunter who had that burning desire to live, but it won't occupy your mind so often now.
This time, instead of a faint and trembling figure of a boy, you'll think of a tall and lonely man with all the power in the world at his hands.
If there's one thing that hasn't changed, it was the fact that he still looked like he had the whole world on his back,
All alone.