Archive of Our Own

₩16,990.

It was the cost of one bibimbap and two cases of soju—six per pack. A good deal at an affordable price, thanks to the supermarket discounting goods before closing time. At the self-checkout counter, a man dressed in a face mask and cap fumbled through the pocket of his jacket for his wallet, then dug around another until he brought out a carefully folded reusable bag. Once he finished swiping his card to pay for the purchases, it was time to pack them up.

"…shit, the cases won't fit."

Compared to the normal-sized grocery bag, the soju cases were just too wide and square. They'd come with their own carrying handles, but Han Yoojin wanted at least one hand free to navigate the city's winter streets. He settled for leaving the store first, even walking a good distance from the door, before crouching down to rip open the casing. Six bottles could fit into the bag fine along with his ready-made meal; he'd drape that over the crook of his elbow while carrying the box by its handle. The cardboard was tougher than anticipated, however, and after a brief check to see the coast was clear, Han Yoojin gritted his teeth and activated Strength Up (E) to help his chilly fingers tear the packaging apart.

What kind of Awakened still uses their skills for small stuff like this? Seriously, what's the difference between an F-rank and a normal human?

The bottles clinked as Han Yoojin grabbed them by their necks and stuffed them in the bag side-by-side. Seoul was always quiet in the week following Seollal, when people streamed out of the city and went home to their families. After gathering the pieces of the soju case and tossing them into a recycling pile, Han Yoojin turned to face the nearly deserted parking lot of the supermarket. This Korean New Year's, like the three before it, would be spent alone—just like the three sets of missed birthdays and Christmases he'd celebrated solo.

Halfway across the lot, Han Yoojin caught movement from the corner of his eye. Months of being stalked by journalists had left him extra sensitive to his surroundings. Although most of that coverage had died off weeks after World’s Edge Guild denounced him in public, there was still the odd tabloid reporter or two who liked to surprise him with unflattering daily shots and equally unpleasant articles. Granted, those didn't last very long either—he guessed Seok Simyeong was dedicating half of World’s Edge’s PR team to take them down as quickly as they were published. At least his brother was in good hands as far as his reputation went, the brat.

"It's the holidays," Han Yoojin muttered to himself. "Can't those bastards take time off to spend with family?" Subconsciously, he activated Agility Up (E) to get a headstart towards the bus stop. It'd be better lit there, allowing him to check for any pursuers; he wasn't worried about being photographed while muffling his head and face.

The bottles clinked in his bag as he hurried through the lot, ducking past random cars on purpose to put some semblance of obstacle between him and whoever was tailing him. There seemed to be more than one, judging from the sound of footsteps—was news so slow after New Year's that they had to pick on him instead? He could see the headlines now: "Infamous Hunter Spends a Fraction of Budget on Cheap Soju," "Public Health Bureau Advises Moderation in Alcohol Intake Over the Holidays," "Fleeing F-Rank Trying to Drown Sorrows in Drink," etc. Ugh.

He made it as far as the sidewalk and saw the bus stop a couple blocks down. It was a straight line from here, so Han Yoojin debated the merits of running for it versus how it'd paint his dignity on the tabloids front page. It didn't help that it sounded like one of them was gaining on him already. Stupid greedy guys—he turned to confront them head on, swinging his other case of soju at their heads.

"What the hell is your problem—!"

The tall, bulky figure that greeted him knocked the case straight out of his grip, nearly snapping Han Yoojin's wrist in the process. The box hit the ground with an ugly shattering noise as the glass bottles inside broke apart. Han Yoojin's survival instincts kicked in and he did a sharp leap back right as the figure lunged for him next. Fuck. These weren't reporters. They were Hunters, and the realization sent a fresh jolt of dread to his heart that was quickly overwhelmed with confusion, then panic and rage.

He didn't recognize this guy, but the ill intentions were clear enough. Next time an arm tried to grab him, Han Yoojin swung his other bag of soju at his face before turning tail to run. He yelled as he fled, making a racket, reaching into his pocket for his phone—then someone slammed into him from the side, knocking him into some bushes next to a building on the sidewalk. Despite being unbalanced, he still clawed at the hands trying to grab at his limbs. Han Yoojin finally formed a fist and punched something soft, but there was only a muffled grunt before fingers wrapped around his own. He was angry he’d only hit flesh without drawing blood—shouldn't they feel something from his efforts?—and then he gasped, a wet choking noise that splintered into a harsher keen as the bones in his fingers snapped.

Han Yoojin kicked. He scratched and he punched, finally lunging forward to bite his assailant, who released him briefly enough for the F-class to crawl to his feet again. He could see the bus stop less than a block away now. There was light there that would make him more visible to the sparse number of cars on the street this time of year. Something to grab attention…to make him stand out.

A hand wrapped around his ankle and yanked, sending him crashing back down to his knees. Han Yoojin cursed and kicked at it uselessly. The first guy he outran caught up and kicked him in the thigh hard enough to send him toppling on his side. Another kick found his shin and—augmented by Hunter-level strength—shattered the bone inside.

Han Yoojin screamed.

Cold sweat broke out as involuntary tears flooded his eyes. Still, he wouldn't give in. His hands, one good and one broken, dug into the pavement to drag himself forward until a foot slammed down on his back, pinning him still against concrete. The world blurred and all he could see now was the vague shadows of the two people trapping him in place. A third and fourth joined them shortly, all standing around to gawk at their fresh prize. Han Yoojin tried to lift his head for a look at their faces before a palm shoved him harshly against the pavement and knocked him out.

****

"…weren't supposed to hurt him."

"I healed….didn't I? …even used a C-rank…on him too."

"…better be worth…"

Muffled voices trickled in from what seemed to be behind a wall. Han Yoojin's eyes flew open at the same time his heart started beating full-force, and he panicked when he realized he couldn't see a thing. Was there a blindfold on him? He tried to move and check, but his arms were bound behind him. Flexing his fingers told him that the rope was tied tight against his wrists, although his right hand—the one that was broken—felt unnaturally stiff. His ankles were tied the same way, but the excruciating pain from his leg was gone. There was still a lingering headache, however, and he felt a bit cold.

As Han Yoojin tried to work his limbs enough to move them, an empty, metallic echo followed his movements. There was no cloth he could feel around his eyes and for one horrifying second, he wondered if he'd gone blind, before a tiny hint of something bright in the corner caught his attention. It looked to be a ray of light coming down from the ceiling, its thin silver beam a welcome respite from the dark. Han Yoojin locked onto it immediately and began to notice other suspicious points: the corner of a wall, and what looked like a pile of boxes piled against it.

Is this…a room? Then why aren't there any windows?

And why the hell had they captured him? Weren't you supposed to target some chaebol's son or company CEO for this kind of crap?! Just because an F-rank was easy to catch didn't mean you'd get anything out of it, unless they wanted to see him made into a public spectacle for laughs.

Dammit, I need to escape. That was easier said than done. As his eyes adjusted more to the light, the shape of his surroundings gradually came into a vague focus. The whole space seemed long and hollow, and shuffling around eventually had him pressing his back against a wall that had an odd, corrugated texture. The voices were also clearer here.

"…did you delete the photos?"

"Right after I sent them. Don't want…on our ass."

"…be leaving the country anyways."

"…risk it?"

"He's been…dungeons nonstop…even notice?"

"No, the kid…his brother."

"Heh…does a monster like that deserve to be called a brother?"

It was hard to pick out all the details, but even Han Yoojin could tell that they were talking about his brother. Dammit, are they trying to drag Yoohyun into this too? He kicked at the walls in protest, sending a loud metallic thud ringing through the space around him. There was a spell of silence before someone answered with a dull whack of his own from the outside.

"Dreamed enough yet, sleeping beauty?"

"Let me out!" Han Yoojin shouted back. "Kidnapping's against the law!"

Outside, a trio of men looked startled as they heard the voice. The oldest of the group ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair before laughing out loud. "What the hells, you didn't gag him?"

Next to him, a taller, thinner lackey scoffed. "Didn't think he'd wake up…we dosed him beforehand."

"Was that before you healed his leg?" the last one, a figure with sharp eyes, demanded. "That dungeon item probably cleared the drugs right out of his system."

The tall man scowled. "Shit."

"Drug him again," the oldest ordered. "We need him unconscious until he reaches the dropoff point."

The doors to the room slammed open a few minutes later, causing Han Yoojin to squint at the lanky figure framed in the square-shaped opening. His mind finally pulled the pieces together: this was a shipping container. He struggled to sit up, shuffling against the ground until he found some purchase against the wall, but then two more men stepped forward to drag him to his knees and make him kneel, eliciting a grunt as his bare ankle scraped against the floor.

"Who are you—what, ngh!" The tall man in the doorway grabbed his chin to jerk his face up, squeezing his cheeks to force open his mouth. Han Yoojin squinted at him—the light from the back made it hard to see the figure's features—only catching things like sunglasses and the same suit-and-tie getup that all of them were wearing. Some sort of organization, he guessed, and wondered, Gangsters? Or the loan sharks I pissed off last week…

He struggled to break free, but even boosted strength does nothing against the arms holding him still. Instead, Han Yoojin clenched his teeth shut as he felt someone forcing the rim of a cup past his lips—what are they trying to make me drink?

"Cooperate, dammit," the man hissed as Han Yoojin continued to twist and turn away from him. Finally he lifted his heel and slammed it into the other's abdomen, causing the F-rank to choke out a cough. Taking advantage of his open mouth, the man tilted Han Yoojin's head backwards and poured the contents of the cup down his throat—pinching his nostrils afterwards to make sure he swallowed instead of spitting it all back out. Still, excess liquid dribbled from the corners of Han Yoojin's lips and down his throat, staining his shirt and collar red.

The other men let go and Han Yoojin collapsed to the floor, curled up into himself between the pain in his stomach and the choking in his throat. He could taste something sweet in the back of his throat—artificial and fruity, like cough syrup—and felt a wave of panic rise to his chest.

"What did you give me, cough—why are you—cough, cough!"

"Just a sedative," the man drawled back. "Mixed it in with fruit juice just for you. God, you yap so much."

Han Yoojin's eyes burned. The next second he'd kicked out with his bound legs, hitting the lanky man in the shins and causing him to step back with a hiss.

"The fuck?" He strode forward and ground his heel against Han Yoojin's ankle, causing him to cry out. "Worthless piece of shit—"

"Minseok, that's enough," another voice called from outside the container. "We're falling behind schedule."

"Tch, pisses me off."

A second man entered the container, his features obscured by sunlight. All Han Yoojin could see were his suit and hands, which were holding a roll of tape. He ripped off a length and stepped around the other man before slapping it over the F-rank's lips to gag him. Then he hauled Han Yoojin up by the collar and—ignoring the other's wide eyes and useless attempts to kick him—dragged him towards an open crate nearby.

He was tossed unceremoniously into its depths, his shoulder hitting harshly against the wood. Looking up, Han Yoojin's eyes widened in horror as a lid slid over the opening. He thrashed and tried to get up, but a punch to the face sent him crashing back down again, stunned.

"Relax," the second man drawled. "We'll drill air holes for you."

The dull pain in Han Yoojin's jaw mixed with the taste of blood and sugar in his mouth before darkness took over his vision.

****

8:02AM - Alexander Archipelago, Alaska.

"There's been a dungeon break."

"It's so convenient that Jupiter Guild's own contracted S-class is here to oversee any fallout."

"Then it seems advisable that Jupiter Guild's head of Korean operations should be staying indoors away from sight." Adjusting the bow in her grip, Evelyn Miller's eyes skimmed the blond man beside her before notching an arrow and aiming it at the sky. "It'd be fine if it's only monsters, but I hear that a Korean freighter's gotten caught up in the fray. You wouldn't want your face to be caught by cameras when the media shows up later."

The next second she let her arrow fly, precisely striking a monster as it tried to climb out of the gate. Next to her, Sung Hyunje's lips eased into a grin before he took another sip from his glass of water. "I'm just a businessman here on vacation."

"A prudent businessman would be taking shelter by now."

"I suppose I'm less risk-averse than most." But Sung Hyunje stepped back from the railings and towards the building next, still wearing a smile on his face. "Then best of luck to you, Ms. Contractor."

He disappeared from sight—at least for now. Evelyn doubted he'd stay hidden for long, and refocused her efforts back on the dungeon—better to get it cleared quickly before things got messier.

Their location was a series of thermal springs that had gone out of business a couple years ago when an unlucky dungeon break happened just off-shore. Something about this part of the world was prone to them—scaring off normal humans, but presenting a prime opportunity for Hunters to stake out gates before they appeared. Thus, Jupiter had acquired it as one of its American properties, and it was a convenient stopover for its guildmaster whenever he felt an urge to slip away overseas.

Financially, it wasn't exactly a money-maker—but still Sung Hyunje had populated it with state-of-the-art facilities. Some might assume he made it into his own personal playground, yet he rarely lingered at the place. If it wasn't for the sudden dungeon break today, the man would likely be on the next flight to a different part of the States already. His attention for people and things were always so fleeting.

Even so, even Jupiter's famed guildmaster had to pause in his steps after slipping out to a secluded bit of beach and seeing the ocean beyond littered with boxes and half-floating shipping containers in the water. This was…new.

The recovery of any shipment items would be a lost cause, he wagered. Even if the crates didn't sink, the items inside them would be suffering from water damage by now. What kind of exports would Korea have? Besides the typical electronics, there was also a growing trade in dungeon by-products and the like…

That train of thought petered out as an odd rhythm reached his ears.

Thunk, thunk, thunk.

It was faint but persistent, like the beating of a drum.

Thunk, thunk, thunk!

And the more he focused on the noise, the louder it seemed to grow. The sharpness of an S-class's senses made it easy to pinpoint the source—another crate in the ocean, some distance away from shore, bobbing up and down in the waves as something drummed on it from within. Sung Hyunje closed his eyes and listened again. The rhythm shifted as a wave swelled up, turning faster and more frantic.

ThunkthUNK thunk THUnK!

Something was hammering against the wood from inside. It took an instant of thought from the man on shore before golden chains shimmered into existence to wrap around the box and bring it to the beach. Sea water seeped from its corners to wet the sand below.

The hammering that had caught Sung Hyunje's attention had completely stopped. Had it just been the waves making that noise? Curious to see what might be inside, the S-rank pried the top of the box off and peered inside.

Nestled next to a corner, his clothes a sodden mess and his body trembling involuntarily from the cold, was a sodden, trussed-up Han Yoojin.

Very subtly, one of Sung Hyunje's eyebrows arched up.

****

Han Yoojin woke up clawing at the sheets, still lost in the nightmare that he was drowning. Worse than the darkness had been the wet, seeping up from the corners of the box after the violent rocking that had sent him falling into the sea. He'd hammered against the walls with his hands, voice garbled uselessly against the tape over his mouth, until something had hauled him up with enough force to send his head spinning. Unconsciousness had taken him next.

Now he was sitting upright in a bed, his back and forehead drenched in sweat. His surroundings were dim—not the white of hospital walls, but something more ordinary. The room itself had no windows and the mattress—while wide and relatively comfortable—was covered in a dark quilt. Han Yoojin's eyes roved wildly around the tastefully wallpapered walls and spotted a few paintings—sea-themed—hanging around him; he eventually noticed the needle poking from his arm with a tube leading to a bag of IV fluid hanging by the bed.

Where am I?

He checked his legs and arms suspiciously: they weren't tied up, though they still smarted from his bonds. Angry red welts remained on his wrists while the faint taste of duct tape lingered on his lips. Han Yoojin licked them with a tongue that felt like cotton, realizing that he was thirsty; he checked around the bed and found a pitcher of water there with a glass. Too parched to wonder whether the liquid was safe, he shakily poured himself half a cup and downed its contents, before repeating the motions again to quench his thirst.

What happened to me?

The F-class was too suspicious to consider this a rescue. If he'd really been saved, why wasn't he in a hospital? Wasn't the usual thing to wake up surrounded by monitors and machines checking his condition after a kidnapping that almost took his life?

It could be that I'm still being kept captive.

Though they hadn't bothered to tie him up this time. Maybe they thought he was too weak to escape on his own. Quickly, Han Yoojin's eyes swiveled towards the door on the other side of the room. There weren't any windows here, but he could still hear the faint strains of something like music coming from the other side. The worst case scenario was that he opened the door to a room full of enemies—no, worse than that was finding out the door was locked, since it was the only way out.

Either way, just sitting here would drive him nuts. He forced himself to sit up—only feeling a faint tightness in his ribs from the effort—then swung his legs over the side of the bed. The one that'd been broken was still healed at its awkward angle, and felt strange to step on. But it could still hold his weight fine, so it wasn't long before Han Yoojin was standing on the ground with both feet, one hand clinging to the IV pole for support.

Shit, do I bring it along or not…

He'd had enough paranoia from the last time he was drugged, but if this was a sedative then he wouldn't be conscious right now. Besides, maybe he could use the base to beat any guards lurking outside the door that tried to stop him…Han Yoojin stopped his thoughts there, finding them ridiculous. What did he think this was, an action movie?

Well, kidnapping and trafficking isn't far off from one.

Pushing that thought aside, Han Yoojin took another step forward and paused. 

Wait, I'm wearing pajamas. When did I…

He was dressed in a set of pants and T-shirt made out of fine silk—nothing like what he'd been wearing before. Someone must have changed him. Some nurses, he guessed, though again this room didn't look like a hospital and wasn't even a fraction as bright. It confused him. But at this point any excess emotions were just distractions, so Han Yoojin stuffed those sentiments away too and headed for the door while dragging the IV pole along for the trip. He tried the knob—it turned, unlocked. Carefully he cracked open the door and peeked outside.

"Can I help you?" A man in a suit and dark glasses greeted him politely in perfect English on the other side.

That's not a doctor. Shit. Han Yoojin blinked at the sudden flurry of syllables, wetting his lips. "Uh."

"You shouldn't be up yet," the man continued. "The doctor's on his way."

Fuck this, Han Yoojin thought, and opened the door wider to shove himself through. "I, uh, am look for, restroom—"

A hand rose to block the doorframe while another gestured behind him. "The restroom is inside your room, sir."

"Oh?"

"I can show you if you'd like."

"Show…? N-no. I look…myself. Thanks."

Han Yoojin quickly shut the door and looked around before finding the restroom door in question—someone had decided to hide it behind some curtains, annoyingly enough. It had a sliding door that he pushed aside to check: no windows there, either.

Shit, shit, shit.

What kind of crappy room didn't have windows for its guests? Was it one just tailored to lock him in? Who the hell were these people keeping him here?!

The door to his room opened. Han Yoojin whipped around to see a man with a white coat and stethoscope step in pleasantly. He looked like a foreigner—brown hair and green eyes. This is the doctor? he thought as the man checked his clipboard with a smile.

"Mr. Doe, how are you feeling?" the man asked in perfect Korean.

Are they going to drug me again? Han Yoojin eyed him warily, too paranoid to feel surprised by his language skills. What if I catch him by surprise and hold him hostage first? Then I could force my way out—the other guy didn't feel like a Hunter. No wait, did he have a weapon on him? I didn't have time to check…

"How about we take a seat first?" the doctor suggested brightly when Han Yoojin only stared at him. "I understand you must have undergone some serious shock after we recovered you from the ocean…"

Or I could knock him over on the way out. If it's noisy enough, maybe it'll attract the guy outside to come in… Han Yoojin's mind was still running different scenarios as his grip tightened on the IV pole. I'll throw this at him first to catch him off-guard.

"Mr. Doe?" The doctor tried again.

Han Yoojin swung the pole back and—froze, crippled in place by an overwhelming pressure that fell upon the room. He looked blankly towards the door as unnamed panic swelled in his chest. This—this was—

The dominating aura of a high-class Hunter.

"I'm only here to check your physicals," the doctor continued pleasantly. Han Yoojin's pupils swiveled towards him: the man seemed perfectly normal, with the source of the pressure coming from somewhere outside the door. Couldn't he feel anything?

"I," he tried and swallowed, gasping for air. "This—"

"I know," the doctor stepped forward when it looked like Han Yoojin was swaying on his feet, quickly guiding him back to bed. "It's all right. You're safe now. We're here to help."

Han Yoojin stared at him expressionlessly. "What is—don't you—don't you feel that?"

"I have an item to shield me against high-class Hunter auras," the doctor explained calmly.

Han Yoojin almost wanted to curse him. "Just one?"

"I'm very sorry for the discomfort. We'll get you one as soon as we can. Try lying down for now." He nudged Han Yoojin slightly, and the F-class Hunter collapsed back against the sheets, looking incredulously at the ceiling.

In response, the pressure in the room lessened slightly.

"They're doing this on purpose," Han Yoojin scowled. "Aren't they?"

"I can't say. Let's start by taking your temperature first."

*****

It took a whole day for Han Yoojin to calm down and adjust to his surroundings, and two more after that for him to realize the implications of where he was.

Jupiter Guild's Alaskan Spa Resort.

It was a health and wellness center for their hunters overseas, and currently the guild was dealing with the issues surrounding the dungeon break that'd wrecked the Korean freight vessel in the process. Han Yoojin himself…had been left to the wayside while he recovered, though it was slowly driving him mad.

His clothes had been washed and returned to him, but his phone had been lost somewhere between Korea and the Pacific Ocean. Meanwhile, the only things he had in possession from his pockets were a few thousand won worth of cash and a now-soggy pack of cigarettes, which he wasn't even allowed to smoke in the facility anyways. His next goal was naturally to return home, but it wasn't as easy as it looked: for one thing, he'd been smuggled out under illegal means, and for another he didn't have a passport. Even in a world of dungeons and Hunters, border patrol laws existed to make travel difficult. The current compromise was declaring the spa resort a branch of Jupiter Guild in Korea which meant—he couldn't go anywhere but the spa grounds while the government processed his paperwork.

Which was apparently going to be low priority because of the multiple dungeon breaks happening in Korea at the same time.

Seeing as he was a victim and a Korean citizen, Jupiter Guild had generously offered to cover all his expenses for the passport and other paperwork in the meantime, but they didn't seem in a hurry to fulfill their promises either. So the days ended with Han Yoojin wandering the facility and its complimentary services, growing more stir-crazy by the hour as no updates came to his case.

One week later, he'd decided he'd had enough.

Oh sure, he could still wait around—but he hadn't seen any news of Korea since coming to this place and none of the staff would play the news channels for him (the TVs, they claimed, only ran pre-recorded footage of relaxing spa montages). That was fine, then; he could still find someone off-duty and ask to use their phone.

The first person he ran into was a random blond strolling by in the halls, his face fixated on the latest model cell phone in his hands. Han Yoojin found him oddly familiar—maybe a celebrity or something? His loosely buttoned shirt and slacks also didn't look like any uniform, so he clocked him as a guest.

"Excuse me," he called out to him with broken English. When the man didn't answer, he tried again, "Hey. You."

Then the man looked up, and Han Yoojin froze.

Sung Hyunje?!

What was the guildmaster of Jupiter doing here in—well, fine, this spa was under their jurisdiction, but last he heard all the S-classes were busy tackling dungeons in Korea. Did this guy actually skip on his dungeon-conquering duties—

"Peter, the package you ordered arrived." A random staff member entered the room and stopped at the sight of them. "Oh, sorry! Are you busy?"

"No, it's fine." The Sung Hyunje-lookalike accepted the package with a smile and perfect English, before turning to Han Yoojin to speak a mouthful of perfect Korean. "Yes, can I help you?"

As the other person disappeared, Han Yoojin found himself doubting what he saw. Granted, the only pictures of Sung Hyunje he'd seen were those giant billboards celebrating his birthday and the occasional TV interview, but he didn't pay as much attention to him as say, his brother. "Are you—"

"I'm Peter," the man replied with a little incline of the head, one so properly polite and friendly that it threw Han Yoojin off again.

Han Yoojin took a deep breath. "All right. Fine. Okay, Peter, I—" his brows wrinkled as he paused. "How old are you?"

"Ah, I'm probably older than you," Peter replied with his eyes crinkling into a smile.

Han Yoojin stared at him suspiciously. The guy didn't look  a day over his 20s. Then again, neither did a certain Jupiter guildmaster. He decided that ultimately things didn't matter, but switched to the right honorifics and tried again. "I'm sorry to trouble you, but I was wondering if I could borrow your phone—"

"Oh, but I'm in the middle of something," Peter said with a cheerful smile. "Besides, the doctor says you should avoid extra stimulation for your mental health."

"What—wait, why do you know that?" Han Yoojin's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"You're somewhat of a local celebrity, Mr. Han Yoojin," Peter replied. "It's not everyday a dungeon break unveils a trafficking operation in a Korean freighter."

"And who are you?" Han Yoojin asked instead.

Peter smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "I'm overseeing how this place runs. That includes how our guests do during their stay here."

"Aren't my medical records supposed to be private information?"

"Apologies, it was part of the paperwork needed to get your documents processed," Peter was still smiling. "I was in charge of submitting that file and glimpsed a page. It wasn't on purpose."

"And you remembered it?"

"I have a very good memory," the man replied vaguely.

"That doesn't answer the—" Han Yoojin shut up. He didn't have time to waste on this guy. "Right. Look, when you're done—can I just use your phone for a bit? It won't take long. I just want to make a call."

Peter blinked at him innocently, then showed him his screen. "I don't have signal." Idly, Han Yoojin noticed the lock screen was just the default wallpaper—how boring—and that the corner only showed Wi-Fi bars and no cell signal.

“Don’t phones do web calling these days? I can call with the wifi."

"But it costs a fee to use," Peter explained, and Han Yoojin stopped to stare at him. He didn't recognize specific clothing brands, but this was the latest model of phone and the guy was wearing a designer watch. "It's difficult maintaining a stable internet connection in somewhere so remote."

Do you lack the funds for that? Han Yoojin wondered. Still, since he was the one making the call, he could concede to forking up the funds. His online bank account should still be accessible for money transfers if the won he had on hand wasn't enough. "Fine then, I'll pay for the internet."

"They only have 30-day passes for $10."

"Then I'll pay for 30 days!"

"That won't do. You're not a member."

"What?"

"To prevent others from using off our wifi before the spa officially opens, we've limited it to staff and spa members only," Peter said smoothly. "Would you like to sign up for a membership now? It's free for a year."

"I'm not going to be here for a year—"

30 minutes later, Han Yoojin left the reception with a newly minted membership card for the Jupiter Spa (Alaskan branch) in one hand as Peter cheerfully waved at him from a different corner of the lobby.

"How do I cancel my membership after this?" Han Yoojin asked as soon as he'd caught up.

"It'll deactivate automatically if you don't renew past the first year. Here," Peter graciously handed over his phone. "For you."

"I feel like I should just buy my own…" Still, Han Yoojin pulled up a browser screen to input the wifi code he'd just purchased.

"Then you'd end up paying for the phone and the wifi," Peter pointed out, before reminding him, "It's 3:19AM in Korea right now."

After all, Alaska was 17 hours behind. That didn't completely daunt Han Yoojin at first. He typed in the correct number by heart, determined to write a text message until his finger paused over the "SEND" button.

This wasn't his phone. Even if the message went through, would the person on the other end even read it? It'd be better to text someone else to tell that brat how he was doing, but it wasn't like he had anyone else in Korea. Besides his landlord—but that wasn't a number he knew or a person he even wanted to speak to.

And what was he even going to type?"I'm fine"? "Come pick me up"? After their last falling-out, he doubted that'd even happen. Besides, asking his brother for help when he was determined to succeed on his own was…a difficult pill to swallow. Not to mention, if this phone was registered with the Jupiter Guild, Yoohyun wouldn't necessarily know the texter. Would he just have the number blocked as spam? They hadn't talked for months—he probably didn't even know his older brother was overseas. Why were there suddenly so many details to consider after finally getting the damned phone in his hands?

"You have 719 hours and 46 minutes of wifi left," Peter reminded him helpfully.

Han Yoojin tabbed out of the dial menu and decided to browse the web instead. He should at least check the news from Korea. Though he doubted he himself had made any headlines, his brother should at least be up to something—

Above them, the lights flickered and then went dark. At the same time, the Wi-fi signal on the phone sputtered to an emergency (!) symbol as the Wi-fi bars blinked out of sight. The browser Han Yoojin opened couldn't even load its own homepage, even when he stretched out his arm to search for more signal elsewhere in the hall.

"It appears we've lost power," Peter stated while observing him.

Han Yoojin took a step back. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, then swallowed down his disbelief. "You don't have any generators?" he looked at the card in his other hand. "I thought this was a S-class resort."

"S-class can apply to many things."

"Such as?"

"Such as the Hunters who visit. Also the quality of blackouts we experience ever so often."

"That's just an excuse, isn't it?"

"Hm? Well, it's true that we aren't open because some things are still a work-in-progress."

"Then it's 'S' for shitty sp…" Han Yoojin politely decided to break-off mid-sentence as he silently handed the phone back.

Peter received it in a chipper mood. "You're finished?"

"I didn't even start. I'll try again when the wifi returns."

"All right." Peter nodded agreeably as he pocketed his device.

"You're an S-class, aren't you?" Han Yoojin asked suddenly. He'd sensed it, in that brief moment they'd shared standing so close face-to-face. There was a vague sense of pressure that was being blocked behind the item the doctor had given him to filter out higher-class Hunters.

Peter smiled at him. "I do try to be S-class with customer service."

"And conquering dungeons?" Han Yoojin prodded.

"I don't think Hunters are ranked just based on that."

"But you do know how they're actually classified?"

"It's good to understand the system," Peter began, "that determines the bulk of your potential clients. For example, we have a tailored six-step spa ritual perfect for everyone D-class and below. Would you like to try it?"

"I thought you said the power was out."

"Our geothermal pools naturally stay warm year-round," Peter replied smoothly. "And we do have independent generators installed for the facilities next to them."

"Thank you, but I'm not interested." I just want to go home.

*****

"I said I'm not interested!"

"I heard. But since they're fixing the blackout in the lobby, it's better for us to get out of the way."

"Then I can go back to my room!"

"The one with no windows? In the dark while the lights are out?"

Han Yoojin paused, suddenly imagining it. The walls closed in around him despite himself, causing a sick feeling of vertigo to gather in his head. He shook his head. "Fine, but I'm not getting in."

He stared at the pool of steaming water before them, artfully bordered by rocks in a way to look natural instead of manmade. By his side, Peter turned to receive a tray of drinks before offering Han Yoojin a pick. "Here, freshly-squeezed coconut juice."

In the middle of February? Han Yoojin blinked, but took one so the guy would stop staring at him with a smile on his face. He sipped noisily from the straw, feeling irritated and stressed at the same time. So much for relaxation at this shitty—

"You can dip your toes in the water so they don't get cold," Peter suggested next. As if on cue, a frigid winter breeze brushed past them, making Han Yoojin shiver. He instantly set his cold drink aside.

"And if I don't, are you going to make me stay out here and catch a cold?"

"Your leg should be aching by now." The blond simply looked at his injured limb, causing Han Yoojin to mentally flinch.

"Did you get that from my medical files too?" he asked bitterly.

"I can tell by the way you walk," Peter replied simply. "It looks like it's been broken more than once, then healed incorrectly. You'll need to break it again to re-set the bones."

A chill stole up Han Yoojin's spine at the casually spoken words. He stared at his companion, who had already moved to take his own drink and settle by the edge of the pool. Whatever cold was in the air obviously didn't bother him.

Peter looked up next when Han Yoojin didn't respond. "Have a seat, Han Yoojin."

The shielding item in his pocket thrummed faintly, making Han Yoojin distinctly aware of the kind of person commanding his attention. He grumbled as he lowered himself to the ground, then stuck a toe experimentally in the water. When it didn't burn as much as he expected, he stuck his legs in ankles-first, splashing the stones around them with specks of water in a passive-aggressive show of defiance.

Peter didn't react.

Han Yoojin's eyes slid towards him and back towards the water again. "Didn't you say you oversee this place? Shouldn't you be doing your job?"

Peter sipped leisurely from his own straw. "I am."

Han Yoojin narrowed his brows. "What, by watching over a cripple?"

"By satisfying my curiosity while evaluating how a valued member enjoys our facilities."

"Don't I get a say in this?"

"You could try to be less interesting," Peter suggested. "but the more we talk, the more I realize it's impossible to predict what you'll say next. So I keep staying to hear more."

"…hey, find some better hobbies."

"I think I could make you my new one."

What the hell. Han Yoojin stared at the handsome blond and his twinkling golden eyes with a growing sense of incredulity. He admitted he had expected different motives when "Peter" had not only extended his spiel about the phone, but played along when Han Yoojin approached it head-on. Jupiter had enough resources to figure out exactly who he was—World's Edge Guildmaster's unpopular older brother—and an incentive to use that information to their advantage in a society where guilds were fierce rivals.

It was only that Sung Hyunje's methods were so childishly transparent that he couldn't grasp the motives behind them. "Satisfying my curiosity," my ass. No S-class would waste his time with a measly F-rank, even those who were blood-related; he knew that first-hand.

"Mr. Sung."

"Who's that?"

The so-called Peter's expression on him was so faux-innocent that it made Han Yoojin snort. "Isn't he Jupiter's boss?"

"He sounds Korean. We don't hear those names as much in the States."

"Fine then," Han Yoojin snapped, "Mr. Zeus. Guildmaster. Jupiter's leader."

He stopped to see how the other reacted, but "Peter" only revealed suppressed mirth in his eyes. "You can keep going."

"Mr. Sung Hyunje."

"Mr. Han Yoojin." Sung Hyunje echoed his words perfectly, albeit in a brighter tone. "How nice to formally meet. Welcome to Alaska."

Han Yoojin growled. "Why did you just say who you were from the start?!"

Sung Hyunje had the audacity to look hurt. "But my parents named me Peter as well."

"It's misleading to use both names!"

"I believe I was only using the one with you."

"That's not the point!"

"It appears our member is dissatisfied," Sung Hyunje mused out loud. "May I offer you a compensation package? For example, a room with a view instead of the one you have now?"

Han Yoojin was still feeling incensed. "Then why didn't you offer that from the start?!"

"We assumed you'd prefer the privacy." 

"Well, what kind of guestroom doesn't even have windows to begin with? Isn't that against the laws?"

"Actually, we put you in one of the massage rooms," Sung Hyunje admitted. "Would you like a complimentary session before moving ou—"

Han Yoojin splashed him with his foot in response.

*****

Normal used to be Han Yoojin's daily life. But the thing about being normal in a world of monsters and dungeons was that he was always playing catch-up. Where Hunters walked, he needed to run just to keep pace. Fortunately for Han Yoojin, this came as naturally as breathing. Maybe it was the fact that he'd lived with a natural-born S-class all his life and loved his brother in spite of everything else he was.

Then Han Yoohyun learned to run as well, and he fell behind. He stumbled in the attempts to keep pace, and finally lost his brother to the realm of S-class Hunters, a classification that people found interchangeable with monsters. Not that Han Yoojin could see his brother as anyone but young and impulsive.

The man he was stuck sitting next to, however, was a different story. His name fell from everyone's lips when talking about dungeons, his face was plastered on at least two billboards and multiple advertisements in Seoul at a time (usually congratulating him on this collab or that dungeon), and he was handsome to the point of distraction in real life, with flawless features and a tall, well-built figure. He smiled at Han Yoojin in a way that was neither dismissive nor condescending, but something that toed the line between dissective and bemused.

It was a feeling ambiguous enough to surmount the natural fear of S-class auras and urge Han Yoojin to punch in his aquiline nose. The fact that Sung Hyunje has had him staying in his luxury Alaskan resort-spa-sauna-whatever is already suspect. There was the side of him that toyed with the idea of risking a swim in Arctic Seas to get away from the S-class with a weird fixation who kept offering his phone to use every morning, juxtaposed with the actual reality of the ocean feeling like ice when he managed to dip a toe in one lonely afternoon.

Notably, no security staff stopped him from slipping away. A guard even greeted him with a heated towel when he hobbled back up from the rocks leading to the seas after a failed attempt to swim off. Han Yoojin couldn't decide whether to be grateful or insulted by the fact that they don't seem concerned with him running off this island spa retreat at all. Although he eventually managed to swipe one of their phones (because F-class strength didn't equate to S-class ingenuity), its lock screen eventually cut his adventures short.

*****

"Today's special is a coffee smoothie." At the usual pool in the usual place, Sung Hyunje settled down with a new tray of drinks. Next to him, Han Yoojin hugged his limping leg while the good one drew circles in the water. "Also, the embassy said your passport should be ready in two days."

Han Yoojin lifted his chin from his knee. "That's quick."

"They were eager to expedite the process."

"You mean eager to get rid of me?" Han Yoojin asked. He took the drink—it smelled like a mix of coffee and chocolate, to be honest—and attacked it with a noisy slurp. "I must be costing your guild a bunch of expenses while staying here for nothing."

"Our guest has been very entertaining," Sung Hyunjae replied. "Good company is priceless, as they say."

"You could at least make your lies sound more believable."

"It's a shame that you can't feel my sincerity," Sung Hyunjae countered, before offering his phone again. "Here."

Han Yoojin stared at the usual offering before taking it from him. He'd yet to send a single text or call, but he'd been following the news judiciously every morning after the spa had "fixed" its "blackout" issues. World's Edge Guild was due to wrap up their latest in a row of dungeon conquests, so he was expecting at least one interview feature for its leader. Instead he straightened up, wide-eyed, as clips of fires roaring across the streets of Seoul played in the news reports.

Although the story was still breaking, it seemed that Han Yoohyun had left the press circle not long after emerging from a dungeon and gone to target a specific, unnamed guild in a malicious attack. Korea's Hunter Association had been notified and Song Taewon himself supposedly dispatched to calm down the chaos, though exact details were blurry.

"What's going on?!" Han Yoojin exclaimed. At this rate, half of Korea might be burnt to a crisp before he ever got a plane ticket home.

"The eyes assigned to you lost track when you went overseas," Sung Hyunje explained after glancing at his screen.

"What eyes?"

"The ones you've always had. You didn't know your brother had people watching you?" the blond replied before reaching into his jacket for a piece of paper. It looked ridiculously thin and flimsy in his hands, but he held onto it gingerly before handing it to Han Yoojin. "We added another experience to the resort's special spa ritual. Why don't you try it out today?"

Han Yoojin didn't take the sheet. "Guildmaster Sung Hyunje, I need to get back to Korea."

"Why? So you can join the burning buildings?"

"My brother might get hurt!"

"And?" Sung Hyunje asked. "Are you going to put out his fires? Pay his lawyers? He has his guild for that."

"He's going to burn half of Seoul at this rate!"

"He won't," Sung Hyunje replied calmly. "because he doesn't know whether you're still in it."

"Why would he—nobody told him where I am?" Han Yoojin realized a second later.

"Why would we?" Sung Hyunje countered. "You didn't even tell him yourself." All those times Han Yoojin had borrowed his phone to send his text had ended in him stopping at the last minute. Now he only used it to browse the news.

Han Yoojin whirled to face him, indignant. "That's because—" I'm not ready yet. I don't know what to say.

An older brother was supposed to look after his younger siblings and support them. But ever since the dungeons appeared, Han Yoohyun had left for his own path while Han Yoojin had just stumbled and been a nuisance the entire time. He couldn't face his brother as he was now. He'd gone with the resolve to get stronger and matter more.

He didn't want to be locked up and protected when he was supposed to protect.

Han Yoojin turned back to the phone and began browsing more pages for updates. The comments beneath the videos ranged from terrified to thrilled at Han Yoohyun's sheer gall, but his actions were being universally condemned. He skimmed through them mindlessly until the messages suddenly stopped loading.

Han Yoojin blinked and refreshed the page. The entire article had disappeared.

He looked up at Sung Hyunje accusingly. "Did the power go out again?"

The S-class, who had been patiently sitting by his side, looked over to peek at his screen. "Your signal's still stable."

"The article's gone," Han Yoojin countered. He quickly went back to browse the other ones he'd found—only to realize those were missing, too. Instead, he found an official notice on multiple news pages by the Korean Hunter Association denouncing the spread of "false information that threatened national security." Likely a move to prevent further scandal or scrutiny on an international scale, the relevant articles had been taken down while they dealt with the issue at hand. But this also meant an information blackout for anyone overseas. Han Yoojin tossed the phone in his lap, frustrated.

Fuck.

"Our new seven-step ritual," Sung Hyunje chimed in, "is designed to calm the mind and body. I believe you'll find it very beneficial."

"Not interested," Han Yoojin dismissed him.

"That's a shame," Sung Hyunje sighed. "You still have lingering injuries from your ordeal. You won't even let us fix your leg or fingers."

"I told you, I don't need it," Han Yoojin snapped. "And what will a spa ritual do for them anyways? You've got magic healers employed?"

"I would think, if you're so eager to reunite with your brother, that you should at least walk properly again," Sung Hyunje pointed out. "It'll make running away afterwards easier as well."

The mention of Han Yoohyun made Han Yoojin flinch; he stared at Sung Hyunje for a tense second before shoving the cell phone back into his hands, refusing to acknowledge the question. "I'll just wait for my passport to come," he mumbled.

"In exchange, how about an honest review of our facilities?"

"What?"

"The guild is also covering the cost of your plane tickets," Sung Hyunje explained. "While it's nice to do charity, one also expects to see results from one's care."

"I thought the Korean government was covering the costs?"

"For paperwork. Jupiter Guild offered to cover transport and daily living costs."

"Oh? I guess Jupiter's goodwill meter only goes so far."

"Usually, it only goes as far as my boredom allows," Sung Hyunje admitted openly.

Is that a threat? It felt like one, but Sung Hyunje's smiling face looked as harmless as usual. Nevertheless, Han Yoojin felt the late winter chill settle deeper into his bones at the comment. Looking at it logically, he was an F-class with no identity documents trapped overseas in a foreign country beneath an S-class's thumb. Erasing him was as easy as an afterthought—people had already tried and nearly succeeded, if not for the spontaneous dungeon gate leading their plans astray.

Han Yoojin took a breath and faced Sung Hyunje head-on. The S-class felt like a jar of contained lightning on most days—something he could look at but not touch, even with the nullifying effects of a shield item to keep him at bay. The fact that the high-level Hunter hadn't moved to crush him yet was as much choice as it was courtesy. A part of this Han Yoojin understood implicitly, which was why he'd never pushed too far. But his stubborn side refused to let him accept everything lying down either, so he resisted every attempt the other made to encroach into his sphere.

Finally, he asked, "What do you want?"

"Your opinion," Sung Hyunje replied simply.

Han Yoojin narrowed his eyes. "What do you really want?"

"Your honest opinion."

Beneath them, the heated waters of the geothermal pool lapped at Han Yoojin's shins invitingly. The temperature made him treat it like a bath—but nevertheless, he hadn't gotten in once since his stay here. Even if the pool was only chest high, he remembered his experiences at sea too well.

Han Yoojin took in a rattling breath and tried again. "What if I honestly asked you to fuck off?"

It was like an ant making demands of a foot. Any second now, the heel of the shoe might lower and squash him flat.

"Mr. Han Yoojin…"

Here it comes, Han Yoojin thought and braced himself.

"Was the smoothie not sweet enough? You're saying such bitter words."

What? Blearily, Han Yoojin blinked at him. Sung Hyunje was looking at him with the same harmless smile.

"And you can't be sleeping well, either. You've got dark circles under your eyes."

Since when was he paying attention to all of that? "Didn't you hear me?" Han Yoojin retorted, "I told you to get lost."

"That sort of line only makes sense from the mouth of someone who's well," Sung Hyunje replied. "I can consider listening to you after you've recovered."

"Hey, don't just decide that kind of thing by yourself—whoaa!" Han Yoojin yelled as he felt the world spin—then he was up in the air.

No. Rather, a set of chains had wrapped around him and lifted him up in the air. They were gold and glimmering, wound firmly around his torso and arms in a way that trapped him in place. Looking down, he spotted an echoing golden glow in the pupils of the S-class beneath him. Even without that clue, Sung Hyunje's chains were famous enough to give their owner away.

"Sung Hyunje!" he exclaimed.

The S-class smiled at him. "Han Yoojin," he replied.

"Put me down!"

"I'm getting to that."

"What—ah!"

With a soft splash, Sung Hyunje dunked Han Yoojin up to his stomach in the spa waters. The warmth flooded into his chilled body with a mild shock, though the F-class's feet were soon kicking frantically in the pool when they couldn't touch bottom. Sung Hyunje was suspending him just a few centimeters shy of the floor.

"The first step is to take a relaxing soak in one of our geothermal springs," Sung Hyunje began.

"Do I look relaxed to you?!"

"It takes time to let go of stress, so I understand if you're still calming down." The S-class raised his eyebrows. "This is water heated by the core of the earth. I've heard that its minerals are very beneficial."

"I don't want any minerals!"

"That's true," Sung Hyunje acquiesced, before continuing, "You need them."

"Hey!" Han Yoojin thrashed a few more times. "At least let me stand on my own two feet, you bastard!"

To his surprise, Sung Hyunje did. When the soles of Han Yoojin's feet hit the bottom of the pool, he silently exhaled and stopped struggling. Instead he leveled a glare at Sung Hyunje instead. "This is aggravated assault."

"I don't believe I've caused you any grievous harm."

"You're tying me up with a weapon!"

"It was more convenient than rope."

"I never agreed to this!"

"If I waited until you did, I'd have World's Edge's young master knocking down my door with charges of unlawful confinement," Sung Hyunje replied. "Cooperate so we can finish, and then I'll send you home."

"Then let me move by myself," Han Yoojin pushed back. Anyways, since he was already wet, it didn't make much of a difference to go through the rest of this farce.

Smoothly, the golden chains released from his body and disappeared. Under Sung Hyunje's expectant look, Han Yoojin dragged himself out of the water and limped on shore. "What's the next step?"

"The cold plunge," Sung Hyunje said, and pointed to a different, rounder pool nearby.

Han Yoojin's expression tightened, but he squared his shoulders and marched up to the water. A ladder led down to its depths, which the F-class noted was far deeper than the other pool.

"Why's this one so deep?" he asked, staring into the depths.

"The idea is to submerge yourself fully, so we left ample depth for that to be possible for all guests."

"I see." Han Yoojin was still staring.

Sung Hyunje watched the interplay of expressions on his face carefully before inserting himself a minute later. "If you'd prefer to stop now—"

"Who says I need to stop?" Han Yoojin shot back. He turned around and grabbed the ladder, dipping one toe in. "Hiss, it's cold."

"It's maintained at around 5 degree Celsius."

"Feels like ice to me," Han Yoojin grumbled before submerging more of his toes in the water.

Sung Hyunje watched on with increasing interest. "Why is it that after I suggest you stop, you keep going?"

He was greeted with a dirty look in exchange. Do I have any other choice? Since you've dunked me once, you can dunk me again. Out loud Han Yoojin said, "Isn't this more entertaining for you?"

The guildmaster crossed his arms. "I can't argue against that."

The water had hit his calves now. Although Han Yoojin was still warm from the other pool, he hadn't soaked long enough for all the heat to sink in. The cold made him shiver slightly before he pushed stubbornly on. "So go on and enjoy the show. Although I don't know what's so interesting about watching an F-class freeze his ass off."

"It's interesting precisely because you complain so much."

Han Yoojin decided then and there that he'd shut up and steadily climbed down a few more rungs of the ladder. The cold gave his mind enough to focus on, but by the time it reached his torso, a familiar tightness emerged in his chest. His grip tightened on the rungs as he stopped to control his breathing, eyes rolling upward to stare at the skies above them.

This is different. I can get out at any time. I'm not trapped…

"If you stay still for too long, you really will freeze," Sung Hyunje said unhelpfully from the side.

"S-shut up."

"Your teeth are already chattering."

A frustrated Han Yoojin quickly finished descending the rest of the ladder and dipped his head underwater. He emerged with a gasp a couple of seconds later, the shock of the cold rattling through his bones. Honestly, he still couldn't see which part of this spa ritual was supposed to be "relaxing." It felt like self-inflicted punishment—especially with that guy observing him the entire time.

"I g-give it zero stars so far," Han Yoojin stammered. He scrambled to climb back up, but his injured fingers slipped while grabbing the next rung, causing him to stumble. His foot missed the railing as well, leaving him falling back into the water. Han Yoojin's heart leapt to his throat in a flash of panic as he processed what was happening—

—and then there were the chains around his torso lifting him up again, safely setting him on solid ground before the water claimed him a second time. Han Yoojin's legs felt enough like jelly that he didn't protest them this time. He only half-heard the hum of Sung Hyunje's voice as the man walked over, draped his back and shoulders in a towel, and guided him towards the indoor sauna.

Inside the wooden room, Han Yoojin remained wrapped in his towel while Sung Hyunje poured water over the heater to send hot steam into the air. A wide glass window gave them the perfect view to the ocean beyond, though it wasn't one Han Yoojin particularly enjoyed. The lighting was natural and not too harsh on account of the cloudy February weather; soothing music played in the background, some New Age combo of sound and hums intended to calm.

"The cold stimulates blood flow, while the heat warms you up," Sung Hyunje was saying after a short spiel about where they'd sourced the wood. Honestly, Han Yoojin wasn't paying attention at this point. His thoughts flashed back to the hours in the crate, first in the dark then in the sea, cold and alone.

He could've died. It wouldn't be his first time, but it had been the closest. Fuck, why was he so useless? His brother probably faced monsters hundreds of times more dangerous in the dungeons, and here he was as the pathetic older brother nearing drowning to death in a box—

"Han Yoojin."

Sung Hyunje's face was right in front of him, making Han Yoojin jump. The next moment he yelped as the man pulled at his towel. "What are you doing?!"

"The towel's already dry. If you keep it on like that, you'll overheat." Sung Hyunje said simply as he tugged the fabric aside.

"I was—was enjoying the heat, after so long," Han Yoojin sputtered back.

"If you enjoy it any longer, you'll turn into a puddle on the floor," Sung Hyunje remarked before pulling away. It was then that Han Yoojin realized the S-class had taken off his shirt at some point during the sauna, and was now sitting casually across from him in just a pair of shorts.

"What happened to your shirt?" Han Yoojin exclaimed.

Sung Hyunje arched an eyebrow. "I left it outside before we came in. You didn't notice?"

"As if I'd waste time noticing some guy's chest!"

Sung Hyunje's eyes moved down to his pecs, and Han Yoojin couldn't help following his gaze. How could someone have such perfect proportions? Weren't S-classes still human to begin with? Why'd this bastard have to have muscles and curves like a Greek god statue?

Then Sung Hyunje looked up, and Han Yoojin had to speedily avert his eyes.

"So it's my chest that left the strongest impression…" Sung Hyunje came to a realization.

Han Yoojin was equal parts flustered and appalled. "Don't just assume things!"

"Come to think of it, it's not fair that you can only see my chest. I'd like to see yours too."

Han Yoojin immediately gripped his sleeves. He'd only been wearing a simple cotton long-sleeved shirt outside, which he'd kept on through both pools, but now the flimsy cloth was the only barrier between him and Sung Hyunje's probing eyes. "What are you talking about? My body belongs to me! And what's there to see about an F-class's chest, anyways?"

"It's precisely because I haven't seen one before that I'm curious."

"Argh, no!" Han Yoojin sprang to his feet, absolutely mortified. "We're done here, aren't we? Let's move on!"

The next step of the process involved a cooling mist room where cold water drizzled on them incessantly and made Han Yoojin's clothes cling to him again. He was a little miserable about that, especially since they also had to walk barefoot on the stone floors for the full experience, but then they came to the next room which was: a body scrub station.

"The sea salt and oils are best applied to the elbows, knees, and shins," Sung Hyunje explained as he took a bowl and began smearing on its contents judiciously.

Han Yoojin gloomily rolled up his sleeves until the elbows were exposed, and slapped some scrub on both sides. "Then why are you rubbing it onto your chest?"

"Of course, it's because my chest also wants to look its best for Han Yoojin."

"Ugh, give it up…"

*****

The second-to-last step was the steam room, where the moist heat was supposed to open the pores so their skin could absorb all the oils. Still dressed in his shirt, Han Yoojin felt drop after drop of perspiration dripping down his forehead while an equally (overly!) wet Sung Hyunje sat cheerfully across from him. The entire environment misted up the glass door, making it impossible for anyone to see inside.

Perhaps it was the sense of enclosed space that got onto Han Yoojin's nerves again; perhaps he'd finally sorted his thoughts out. But after a while, he said, "Is it because of my brother?"

Sung Hyunje turned towards him quizzically.

"The reason you got close to me," Han Yoojin continued. "It's to get an edge in with my brother, right? I'm telling you now, it's a waste of time. Yoohyun wouldn't care—"

"You're not a waste of time, Han Yoojin." Sung Hyunje cut in abruptly.

Han Yoojin paused. Then he gave a wry laugh. "If it's to ruin his reputation, it won't work either. His guild's already drawn clear lines between us in public."

"Why do I have to be interested in Han Yoohyun to be interested in you?" Sung Hyunje asked instead.

Han Yoojin was beginning to question the S-class's brains. "Does it make any sense to you?" he demanded. "I'm just a nobody you fished from the sea. You know what I am. You know what you are."

"I find it interesting that you think you know what I am, Han Yoojin."

"Yeah, there's no one I know as shameless as you."

Sung Hyunje grinned. A droplet of perspiration slipped off the edge of his hair to land with a plop on the chest that Han Yoojin was most definitely not looking at out of the corner of his eye. "I've also never met a liar as honest as you."

"So the Jupiter guildmaster likes liars?"

"I'd like to think I recognize them," Sung Hyunje replied. "Despite that, I can't read you, Han Yoojin." His eyes focused on Han Yoojin, and the F-class had the strange sense that the other wasn't looking at him as much as he was looking through him. "I've yet to meet a person I couldn't predict."

There was a pause before Han Yoojin followed up awkwardly with, "I think you want books for that."

Sung Hyunje only looked at him with the same infuriating smile. Han Yoojin turned away and ignored him, letting the conversation die down. Still, it wasn't unpleasant. The steam room did its work and the F-class leaned into their silence, breathing in deeply as the heat and oils took effect.

All right...so maybe this isn't too bad after all.

*****

"What's the last step you guys added?" Han Yoojin asked first this time when they left the room.

"Refreshments," Sung Hyunje replied. "Our experiments with a dungeon panned out, and we've created a revitalizing elixir from one of the plants found inside its grounds."

"What kind of plant?" Han Yoojin frowned suspiciously.

"It's been approved by the FDA in the United States," Sung Hyunje replied. "It'll take some time before it reaches the Korean market, however."

"That's right," Han Yoojin realized after a beat. "Why aren't you in Korea now?"

"My guild has business interests overseas," Sung Hyunje said innocently. As if that explained everything.

As if that explained anything, Han Yoojin thought privately, but felt that pushing the issue wouldn't get him anywhere. Instead, Sung Hyunje pushed back. "What will you do after returning to Korea?"

Han Yoojin grew visibly gloomy. "That's none of your business."

"We'll at least need an address to drop you off."

"I can find my own way home." Han Yoojin looked up. "Can't you find any news about World's Edge in the meantime? Or the Hunter Association?"

"If there's been no statement, then everything is under control."

Han Yoojin was still uneasy. "Let me use your phone after this. There's still the wifi I paid for on there."

"What about the rating for our spa?"

"That? Five stars for setting, two stars for experience, and zero stars for customer service."

Picking up two cups of elixir, Sung Hyunje frowned and handed Han Yoojin one. "I'm a little disappointed at the results. The assigned scores seem a little arbitrary."

"Fine, half-a-star for convincing me to try at all," Han Yoojin said as he accepted the cup. "Though part of it was forcing me into it."

"Does our guest have any suggestions for improvement?" Sung Hyunje asked while cradling his own drink.

Han Yoojin sipped from his and noted the taste: fresh and berry-like, with a slightly tart aftertaste. It was chilled to a perfect temperature after the steam room, too, so he downed it in one gulp. "Less talking from the staff. In fact, it'd be great if he never spoke at all."

"That may be difficult to implement."

"Then just fire him," Han Yoojin went on mercilessly.

"If I end up fired, will you hire me instead?" Sung Hyunje asked.

With what money? Han Yoojin thought. But he snickered and said, "Who knows? You'd have to pass an interview first."

"I see." Then Sung Hyunje rattled off a unit number and street name that left Han Yoojin speechless, because it was where he was currently living.

"How did you—?" No, that made perfect sense. If they'd investigated enough to know who he was, they would also know where he lived. Jupiter Guild had that kind of power and funding. "No, wait." He's not implying he'll drop by, right? "Sung Hyunje!"

He took a step forward and wobbled; suddenly, the floor seemed to dip and sink, sending him toppling sideways. He ended up crashing into Sung Hyunje (and that chest—it was impossible to ignore, his mind argued) while fumbling for balance.

"Don't…" Don't actually visit, you bastard.

But then a heaviness fell over his eyelids, and his quickly fading mind suddenly registered with fresh, hot fury that he'd been drugged, again.

*****

The third time Han Yoojin woke up, it was to an oddly-familiar chorus of muffled shouts and insults coming from beyond the walls. He vaguely registered the voices as the neighboring ahjummas who got heated over their sons every weekend, and rolled over habitually with a pillow in his arms to get away from the din.

Instead he ended up rolling straight into a patch of light coming from a crack in the window.

Wait, window?

Han Yoojin sat up with a start. After that, he could only gape: the surroundings were his own shabby apartment, and the light was coming from a sliver of window that the curtains could never cover up no matter how he pulled or prodded.

Since when had he come back to Korea?!

Incredible. If this was Sung Hyunje's idea of a prank, he'd kill him. Lifting the covers off, Han Yoojin got off the bed a little too quickly and instantly regretted it—his knee didn't like sudden movements after the injury—it—

His knee—

His knee was fine.

Han Yoojin paused with his feet planted on the floor, and went to examine the kneecap. No outward signs showed, but both the limb and bones seemed to move normally. And his fingers—! He stared at the ones that'd been broken again, now straightened back to their original, uninjured selves.

A deep sense of unease fell upon him.

He searched the rest of the room for clues—there was his clock, telling the time but not the date. It wasn't like he kept a calendar hanging around when everyone used their phones nowadays—right, the phone!

He checked his bedstand for one—and found not his phone, but the one he'd been obsessively checking off and on for the past one and half weeks.

Sung Hyunje's phone.

Next to it lay a brand new Korean passport.

Han Yoojin checked the passport first. It was his, and completely blank—which didn't mean anything. These days, customs records were kept digitally instead of as physical stamps in a passport book. He checked, more reluctantly, the phone next. It had no password and only one contact listed under a single name.

Peter.

He clicked on messages for the name and only found a single PDF containing the details for his…latest surgical procedures at an Alaskan hospital? Han Yoojin stared at the unfamiliar English until the letters seemed to melt and spin before his eyes. The only thing that made sense to him was the hospital fees listed at the bottom: $0 with a WAIVED note neatly handwritten in a corner. Then he slowly rose to his feet. He took one step, then the next, until he was walking to his front door and flinging it open.

Outside, bright blue skies and a familiar Seoul landscape greeted him. Han Yoojin stared at it in disbelief before slamming the door shut. He immediately opened up his phone to dial the "Peter" number, his forgotten rage rising to the forefront over this ridiculous course of events.

Sung Hyunje had drugged him, made him undergo surgery for his leg and fingers, and then shipped him back to Korea in the same unconscious state he'd left it? If it wasn't for the presence of the passport, he would've suspected the guy stuffed him in a crate as well and had him delivered and unpacked in his own house! Unfortunately, the few times he called, he only got a busy signal. Texting him only showed that the texts had been sent, but were left unread.

He didn't leave a fake contact number, did he?

Han Yoojin scowled while glaring at the phone. A finger habitually found its way to his mouth, but before he could chew on a nail, someone started knocking on his door.

"Hyung, are you home? Open up! Hyung, it's me!"

No way…is that…? The phone clattered onto the floor as Han Yoojin rushed for the entrance.

*****

"…and I'm telling you, it's not like that, I wasn't just picked up in the streets and shipped away," Han Yoojin was trying to explain.

"It's all right, hyung. I understand." From the other side of the bars, Han Yoohyun was looking at him with a mixture of smoldering anger and kicked puppy face. "You couldn't help it. That's why I'll be more direct with my methods from now on."

"More dir—wait, shouldn't you be directing those methods to the kidnappers, not me?" Han Yoojin wrapped his hands around the bars of his newly-refitted apartment windows and shook them hard. "Why am I the one being locked up!"

"You're safer like this, hyung."

"You're treating me like a criminal!"

"No, I'm protecting you."

"That's—look, what about the neighbors? What are they going to think?!"

"I already made arrangements to buy out this whole building. They'll be moving out tomorrow."

"What?!"

"Since hyung doesn't want to stay with me, this is the next best way." Han Yoohyun's expression darkened. "If it wasn't for the fact that you already had your leg broken, I'd break them again."

"Don't say things like that! And hey, how did you even hear—wait, Yoohyun, don't leave!"

But his little brother's footsteps were already echoing down the hall as he left for the evening. Han Yoojin could only stare at the splotch of sky outside his new jail cell, incredulous. Explaining what had happened in the interim of his disappearance from Korea had not gone well. He'd known Han Yoohyun to overreact when it came to him ever since they were both children, but he didn't think the current Han Yoohyun would feel the same way.

No, had Yoohyun ever changed? It was just that his methods were too blunt, and his lack of communication too lethal, that had driven a wedge between them. Han Yoojin himself wasn't any better, he realized, if he could jump to assumptions about his little brother so quickly instead of clearing things up.

Actually, after their most recent conversation, Han Yoojin suspected it wasn't clarification that Han Yoohyun needed at all. Rather, he was probably lacking security. If only he'd been born the S-class instead of Yoohyun, maybe things might've gone smoother. But it wasn't as if an F-class was useless, either! His Caretaker abilities…

He hadn't used any of his Hunter abilities since the kidnapping, Han Yoojin realized. And it wasn't as if any of them could help him escape now. Yoohyun had even partially melted the door before he left, making it impossible for Han Yoojin to do something like unscrew the hinges and slip out that way.

He really couldn't believe it. After being mugged on the streets, kidnapped, and held hostage at an overseas spa, now he was getting illegally imprisoned by his own brother.

Rrring rring!

Han Yoojin gave a start before realizing it was the phone. He dove for it on the ground and saw that it was Peter calling. All of the helplessness he'd felt a second ago melted into a boiling point. He accepted the call and pressed the phone to his ear.

"Explain yourself," he said coldly.

"Good evening," Sung Hyunje's smooth tones came over the other end. "I'm calling about the job interview I was promised."

"Says who?!"

"Why else would you try to contact me so persistently? Unfortunately, I was flying just now and couldn't use my phone on the plane."

"Did you tell my brother what happened to me?"

"I'm sure World's Edge has a vast enough network to work out the facts themselves."

"Then how did Yoohyun know to find me the day I returned to my apartment?"

"He's had your place watched ever since he found out you disappeared. I'll admit, it was a hassle for our people to sneak you in past his guards. The discrepancy we caused probably drew his attention."

Han Yoojin took a minute to let that sink in. Then he went on the attack. "You healed my leg."

"It needed to heal itself."

"I didn't ask for it to be fixed. My fingers, either."

"I don't suppose you asked for them to be broken in the first place," Sung Hyunje quipped. "They've been returned to their rightful places, you included."

Han Yoojin's eyes scanned his surroundings—locked doors, barred windows—and felt the irony hit his face. Did jumping out of one S-class's grip mean falling into another's? No, things couldn't go on like this.

"Then I'm using what's mine," he replied. "You're looking for a job? Break me out of my apartment first. Otherwise, don't think about getting hired."

Sung Hyunje clicked his tongue. "What kind of interview question is that supposed to be?"

"Your answers don't mean anything. I'd rather you back up your sincerity with actions from now on."

"That sounds like a certain Mr. Han Yoojin doesn't trust me anymore."

"I've never trusted you from the start, until you caught me off-guard." He really should've known better than to drink another mystery beverage. At least he could've watched Sung Hyunje drink his first. Still, their rapport when it came to banter extended beyond his dissatisfaction and the Jupiter guildmaster's guile.

Han Yoojin wondered if that was all there was, and whether it'd be enough to pull the S-class's attention one last time. He had subconsciously held his breath after the last demand, waiting to hear how Sung Hyunje would reply. The silence seemed to stretch on forever before the now-familiar tones spoke again.

"I suppose if I want to improve my rating from 0.5 stars, I'll have to start here."

Han Yoojin exhaled silently. "Don't bet on it. I'm putting your rating in the negatives as we speak."

"Then I'll strive to make it there within the evening."

"Can't you go any faster?"

"An hour and a half is my absolute minimum," Sung Hyunje insisted. Feeling him stand his ground, Han Yoojin relented.

Perhaps he should've expected it when Sung Hyunje appeared 90 minutes later at his door with champagne and chocolates to celebrate the start of their renewed working (?) relationship.

Tomorrow, World's Edge and his brother would likely riot.

But tonight, downing a cup of champagne by the remnants of his melted door, Han Yoojin was feeling generous towards the one unlikely man who matched him pace for pace. So what if he was still a useless F-class? If opportunity came knocking on his door, he'd seize every chance to take advantage. Rinsing out both cups after their drinks, Han Yoojin set them neatly by the sink before checking the location of the note he'd left his brother. Then he turned to boss his new employee around. "Let's go."

"Where to?" Sung Hyunje asked without missing a beat.

"I'm feeling a little stressed again. Maybe another spa trip will do."

Yoohyun, he was sure, would likely follow.

— end —