Chapter Text
Go Gun Hee’s awakening strikes him as he is about to drink another mouthful of his oxbone soup. He drinks it anyway, slurps his noodles, and orders another serving of dumplings. His ranking can wait, the auntie tending to the food stall cannot. The tent is small, humid, with little ventilation. Go Gun Hee adjusts himself awkwardly on the flimsy plastic stool, his large stature testing the limits of its weight capacity.
He chugs his glass of iced water, and proceeds towards the Hunter Association building, contemplating dinner options now that his lunch was satisfyingly good. Maybe soba, more bland to the palate. But he had noodles already, so perhaps grilled fish? Grilled saba with rice sounds good. Top it off with beer.
Happy with his decision making, Go Gun Hee distractedly places his hand on the black mana-measuring sphere and realises that the room has gone awfully quiet.
The staff looks panicked. “It’s an e-error, sir. Let me get my manager!”
The manager looks panicked. “I’ve never seen anything like this before–let me get my supervisor!”
Well, whoever it is, Go Gun Hee sure wishes he doesn’t have to pay for anything. The ball thing doesn’t look damaged but what does he know. It’s only until he finds himself inside the office of the President of the Hunter Association that he allows himself to panic. Just a little bit.
The president, slightly stout, honestly average-looking if not for his publicly known A-rank, seems struck with awe and Go Gun Hee may not have any experience being jailed but even he knows that’s not a look one gives a criminal.
That afternoon, he finds out he is S-rank. The nation’s first. A national-level hunter.
He compartmentalises: he’s not a patriot or anything, but he loves his country enough to become a hunter. So that’s a career change, technically speaking. More pay, more perks, probably. Can he get oxbone soup delivered? The auntie closes the shop at 3pm–he makes a note to ask. Dungeon raids, he’s researched, would also require a team. Luckily, his martial arts school has plenty of people he trusts, and most importantly, a good handful of them are skilled hunters. He makes another note to buy them a meal. Then, the last thing on his list would be to raid a dungeon, no?
The next week, Go Gun Hee becomes the first person in Korea to clear an A-rank dungeon within three hours.
In the next ten years, he becomes the undisputed S-rank hunter everyone can begrudgingly respect and fight with–nevermind that that brat Choi Jong In still looks at him a little judgy. What? An S-rank can’t buy food from a street stall and eat there? Go Gun Hee shakes his head, rich kids.
Another ten years, and Go Gun Hee takes over the Hunters Association, simultaneously running dungeon raids and the hunters themselves. He fights the fiercest ones, the intelligent ones, the cunning ones–monsters, and humans alike.
He meets Woo Jin Chul on a chance meeting, and promptly adopts the man under his wing. Nobody says anything (not that they can), and he’s gleeful, feeling like he’s struck gold. He sets up the Monitoring Division, christens the seat, and hands it over to Woo Jin Chul on a silver platter. Nothing fazes the guy, Go Gun Hee loves it.
He brings them to his favourite spot for lunch. They queue up under the sun, they sit on flimsy plastic chairs. The table is small, the water is cold. It’s a secret joke that nobody understands but Go Gun Hee thinks Woo Jin Chul does. Just a little.
“The broth is good, isn’t it?”
Woo Jin Chul nods, too formal as always, but he’s not wearing his standard issue sunglasses, his jacket is off, his top buttons unbuttoned. Go Gun Hee grins and orders another serving of dumplings.
Officially, Go Gun Hee is semi-retired. Unofficially, he thirsts for fights and loves the work he does to the point he still holds the number one rank in the country for clearing dungeons.
It’s a delicate balance.
From the corner of his eye, he sees Woo Jin Chul’s fingers twitch, as if he wants to comment something but the man is too much of a goody-two-shoes to say anything. Has he mentioned he loves his right-hand?
Woo Jin Chul is good at his job. Too good, to be honest. Go Gun Hee knows that if he wasn’t the S-rank that he is, the country’s guild masters would be fighting left and right to recruit Woo Jin Chul–not that they haven’t tried, but it’s one thing to inform politely that doors are open, and another to actively go under Go Gun Hee’s nose and try to poach his right-hand man.
He is not the first S-rank hunter in the country for nothing. The Hunters Association chairman. The pioneer dungeon raid master. Ranked top ten in the world. Pick one, he dares the rest to try.
“Sir,” Woo Jin Chul calls out, reminding him to reign his bloodlust in–and see? What a man. He chuckles to himself, maybe he should arrange a date for him or something–”There is… someone the division is keeping an eye on. I thought I should let you know.”
It’s not wise, probably, but Go Gun Hee admits that he doesn’t look through everything that is on his table. He trusts Woo Jin Chul, wholeheartedly, blindly. They know each other like the back of their hand, there is not much he wouldn’t let Woo Jin Chul do. If he kills, then Go Gun Hee’s first reaction would be to figure out ways to hide the incident from the media. That’s how they work. That’s how he works.
The point is, it’s rare for Woo Jin Chul to bring something to his attention these days. The man is competent to a fault, and his A-rank becomes simply an alphabet on a piece of paper when he is capable of holding his own against any other S-rank for a good while.
Go Gun Hee reads through the thin file. A few pieces of paper, really. Yet, it tells him everything he needs to know.
He smiles wryly. “Do you think Hunter Sung likes potstickers, Chief Woo?”
Go Gun Hee swears, he didn’t mean to make the kid cry. It really wasn’t intentional, but he is, as the team at the Monitoring Division like to say when he pops by to buy Woo Jin Chul coffee, a secret softie at heart.
To have the whole world on his shoulders, to raise a family on his own, to support his comatose mother (and he makes a note to look further into this), to step into a dungeon not knowing whether you will return alive–Go Gun Hee understands.
He pats the kid’s shoulders, and buys oxbone soup with noodles. Over the steam of the piping broth and the smell of oily dumplings, he says as such.
“E-rank, S-rank, whatever, you’re doing well, kid. The Hunter Association doors are open for people like you–who don’t give up, no matter how tough the battle is. Ah, but I hope you like dumplings, we eat them pretty often here.”
Not quite scrawny, not quite muscular, his shoulders hunched, head lowered. Sung Jin Woo nods, staring into his bowl of noodles. He picks up a piece of dumpling, biting into it.
Voice wobbly, he replies quietly, “I do. I like dumplings.”
Go Gun Hee smiles. “I’m glad you do.” Then he lowers his voice into a whisper, as if sharing a conspiracy and winks, “Sometimes, the auntie gives me extra.”
The laughter that follows is music to his ears.
When people ask why he hired an E-rank, he would shrug and say, why not? Truly, why not? They have hands, they have legs, and a working brain. They’ve got some A-ranks beat in that aspect.
He tags Woo Jin Chul to Sung Jin Woo, and no it’s not scheming dear, why would you put it that way? It’s guidance!
His wife would give him that stare that says she doesn’t believe a single lick of word he says. Well, I suppose it is time for Jin Chul to date a bit. The poor child is always in the office!
Go Gun Hee whines, What about me?
She ignores him.
With a healthy amount of fear, Go Gun Hee wisely shuts up and lets his wife prepare more packed lunches for Woo Jin Chul as well, he notes, eyeing how one lunchbox has more meat than the other. He can’t blame her, he would adopt the guy into his family if he could.
Sung Jin Woo on the other hand… Go Gun Hee makes sure to inform the hospital to continue to give their best care and support, ensures the school doesn’t call for any other reason than parent-teacher meetings, and puts some information under lock and key.
When he is greeted with a 90-degree bow, Go Gun Hee waves it off. “I take care of my people, Jin Woo-ya. My people won’t starve, they will have a roof to live under, they don’t live in fear. This is how I run things.” He says it like his word is law, and loosely speaking, it technically is. His voice doesn’t waver, he states it with conviction.
Going by the way Sung Jin Woo’s eyes widen, Go Gun Hee knows that he sees the steel behind his own eyes, the strength beneath, the army that is ready to back his words up should anyone try to test it. He smiles, “Welcome to the Hunter Association.”