Chapter Text
For such a monumental day, Han Yoohyun feels like he should have noticed something.
And yet, Yoohyun proceeded like nothing was wrong. He noticed absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. He made some media appearances, worked with Kim Sunghan on some projects for Haeyeon expansion, and came up with some extra excuses as to why the S-class meeting should be postponed.
Not that he really needed to do anything for that last item. There’s been exactly one S-class meeting since the beginning of the dungeons and at this rate, there would only be a second group meeting in ten years.
Yoohyun finished the day. He went home, cooked dinner for himself, and then went to bed.
There was no strange feeling, no waking up in the middle of the night, no abnormal dreams that may have been premonitions in disguise.
When the day dawns, Yoohyun just wakes up as usual, makes a light breakfast, and then goes down to Haeyeon to begin the work day.
It is only when he enters the building that finally, finally his senses start to go haywire. Hunters are looking at him with side glances and Yoohyun finds Seok Simyeong waiting for him past the lobby.
“What is going on?” he asks in a low voice and the grimace on Seok Simyeong’s face does not inspire him with confidence. Already, he tries to narrow down what happened—national disaster or guild failure?
Seok Simyeong’s left eyebrow twitches. Something relating to the guild, then. His eye is twitching periodically as well, so it’s something that will be a PR disaster.
A tendril of an unease worms its way into Yoohyun’s heart. There’s a particular face that Seok Simeyong has on right now. 58% of the time, that face is the result of Han Yoojin.
Seok Simyeong takes him to his private office and sits him in front of a computer screen, which is streaming some news channel.
“Today, we have a new add-on to the developing mysteries about dungeons,” the anchor says, “and, most surprisingly, brought to us by a face that the news media hasn’t seen in years: Han Yoojin, the older brother of Haeyeon Guild Leader, Han Yoohyun.”
“What?” Yoohyun snaps but Seok Simyeong doesn’t respond. He just stands there, so reluctantly, Yoohyun’s eyes go back to the screen.
Han Yoohyun, one of the strongest S-class Hunters in the world, has to sit there and listen to some Unawakened anchor relay to him, with a sometimes cheery and other times appropriately solemn voice, that the latest dungeon that Han Yoojin was massively misclassed. It’s intercut with interviews with the party Yoojin was with, to make it appropriately dramatic.
Yoohyun thinks he’s going to light something on fire.
“It started as a D-class dungeon,” the anchor says, “and then suddenly—”
The screen cuts to what must have been the aftermath of the dungeon.
“There was a beast that shouldn’t have been there,” the winded guildmaster says. “Lauchitas. An—an L-class beast. It was going to kill us all.”
“Why didn’t it?” Yoohyun grits out to Seok Simyeong, trying to ignore the fact that the channel has questioned just about every party member that is not his brother.
“Han Yoojin is missing and possibly dead,” Seok Simyeong says, voice disinterested as if Yoohyun asked about the weather.
The news channel corroborates Seok Simyeong’s statement soon enough.
“According to the party members, Lauchitas attacked Han Yoojin first, but when it struck, the beast started to disappear. Han Yoojin had been injured, but before any member could give him aid, he too disappeared.”
The screen cuts again.
“It wasn’t—it was just that he was no longer there,” one of the party members says. “He was barely standing—he got thrown around a bit I think, we all did—and next thing we knew, his crutches were falling to the ground and his jacket was floating down too. It was like he was just removed. He hadn’t even died yet so it’s not like—how—how could that have happened?”
Yoohyun does not look away from the screen as this member devolves into senseless rambling. “When did this happen?”
“Lim Seokwoo and his party went into the dungeon yesterday.”
For a day that changed everything, Yoohyun felt nothing wrong. No one had reported that anything was wrong yesterday. So why didn’t—
Yoohyun narrows his eyes at the screen. It switches to the upcoming election and what candidates are running and such. Per usual, a large minority of Korean voters are campaigning that Sung Hyunjae be elected.
It’s all nonsensical drivel. “What else do we know about what happened?”
“Han Yoojin was not actually targeted first,” Seok Simyeong rattles out. Yoohyun wonders how long he’s known about this without telling him. “He simply fell behind. He couldn’t move as quickly as the rest of the party. Once the party scattered, Lauchitas went after Han Yoojin. Both disappeared. However, while Han Yoojin disappeared in an instant, Lauchitas seemed to crumble to dust.”
Seok Simyeong doesn’t continue.
Yoohyun’s eyes flit up.
“Other than that,” Seok Simyeong continues after a swallow, “no more facts.”
“Theories, research?”
“Nothing like this has ever happened before.” Seok Simyeong sounds close to exasperation, so Yoohyun shoots him a glare. Sighing, the man continues, “There is no research on this phenomenon. There are scientists coming over—”
“Where is the dungeon they were in?”
“It’s disappeared entirely,” Seok Simyeong says. “It seemed to be of an unstable variety, so there are theories that it’ll reappear again.”
“Can’t you pull strings with your niece?”
“Why do you think the scientists will come here first?” Seok Simyeong shoots back. “They’re all on flights or train rides now. They should all be here in a few hours.”
Yoohyun should feel grateful. That’s how he was taught. Yoohyun’s hands are still trembling.
“If this happened yesterday, why did no one notice earlier?”
Yoohyun’s question comes out as a whisper and for a moment, he doesn’t think that Seok Simyeong will actually respond.
“Lim Seokwoo had a hard time getting anyone to believe him,” Seok Simyeong says after a moment. “There were even accusations that Han Yoojin ran off and they were trying to save face by saying he disappeared.”
Yoohyun is dangerously close to cracking the sidearms of the chair he is sitting in.
“What changed their minds?” he asks, even as he knows whatever answer there was would enrage him further.
“The guildmaster pulled strings and brought in a Hunter whose technique specialized in deciphering the truth from lies. She confirmed none of them were lying. Otherwise, this might have been buried.”
The chair breaks.
Seok Simyeong looks down at the shattered wood, his face carefully blank.
“I’ll let you know when the scientists arrive,” he just says and leaves.
Yoohyun is alone now, staring at the glowing computer screen. The news channel has gone back to discussing the dungeon. There’s a panel now, who start debating on what exactly happened.
“Well, we know that it did occur,” a man says, like it’s something novel. “But this is just further evidence that dungeons are evolving. Some scholars have compared dungeons to viruses, and perhaps that is not wrong. They have appeared and now they have adjusted to our world, causing supreme panic and disruption as they do so.”
“That’s a bit of a stretch, isn’t it?” the anchor says. “Dungeons are still so new compared to other technologies…”
“But don’t forget,” another woman jumps in, “that despite their relative recency, they were a cataclysmic event when they first appeared. And now, they are changing to become more and more unstable. Much like a superbug, even.”
“I think we’re overreacting,” a second man says. “After all, let’s look at what really happened—an F-class was downed in a dungeon after encountering a high-classed monster. Then both disappeared, and so did the dungeon. Perhaps the real instability is with the dungeon itself, if this Lauchitas disappeared. As for Han Yoojin… well, let’s look at the scene.”
Graphic images are now moving across the scene. Yoohyun’s stomach can’t help but sour. There’s enough time to create an animation on this scene and yet, nothing concrete is known about why his brother disappeared?
This is why he never wanted Yoojin to be a part of this life. This is why he pushed him away in the first place. At the end of the day, no one actually cares. Even if Yoojin did not have a bad reputation, the world would shrug, some people would cry and life would continue.
Yoojin is too important for that. Yoohyun can’t lose his brother and then continue living.
Of course, if Yoohyun had known how fruitless this was all going to turn out…
“Han Yoojin was first slashed across the back,” the man on the screen says, gesturing to the animations occurring on the screen. “If we look at an estimate of Lauchitas’s size, it’s evident that the dragon’s poisons would have very easily affected Han Yoojin, even if Han Yoojin was just grazed.”
“Poisons to completely dissolve a man and most of his clothes? Oh, except for his jacket of course.”
Yoohyun can’t listen to this anymore. He can’t watch this panel convince themselves and the viewers that Yoojin is just dead and it is nothing more than that. He can’t take the snorted comment that perhaps this was just a latent technique of Han Yoojin’s.
“Wasn’t it always strange how low-classed that man was?” the first man poses. “His younger brother is one of the youngest S-classes to ever Awaken. That talent can’t have just completely bypassed him. Perhaps he finally discovered a useful skill.”
The second man laughs a little. “About the only useful thing he’s done, then, considering he saved the lives of the rest of the party.”
That seems to lighten the atmosphere. Yoohyun wants to call them up, ask why talking about his brother’s death—no, no, Yoojin isn’t dead, he can’t be dead—makes them so fucking happy. Why does putting a bullshit explanation relieve them?
Yoojin’s picture is still in the corner of the screen. It isn’t a very recent picture—two or three years old at this point—but in it, he looks so tired and is in desperate need of a haircut.
Hyung is probably still very tired. If this is a level-up or new technique, it will have taken a lot of energy out of him.
Yoohyun can give him a place to rest. He’ll have to, now. Whatever the real cause for all of this, the effect would be the same. Yoojin now has the attention of many, and distance from Yoohyun won’t keep his brother safe.
So Yoohyun needs to get him to come back. He can actually keep him safe in Haeyeon. Yoohyun can finally stop missing his brother.
Yoohyun does not break down. There is an entire building around him that has people who would get hurt, and these people are his employees. So, no, he does not lose control. But his shoulders slump and he bites down hard on the insides of his cheeks.
The news loves to paint him as a success story. Look at this teenager who is now the man running a top Guild. Look at him, he came from nothing and no one. Look at the man who has it all—status, looks, and money.
One time, when Yoojin came back from work, he was limping. This was not long after their parents’ funeral. Yoojin had cried once during the service, but ever since that, he had a smile on his face. His face would… not fall , but shift. His face would become studiously neutral when he thought Yoohyun wasn’t looking.
Yoohyun only caught Yoojin pretending a few times. He knows it happened often. Because Yoojin was good at that—keeping up a good and happy face for Yoohyun.
But that night? That night, hyung wasn’t smiling. He had a grimace when he came back home, and he was so out of it that he didn’t even hide it from Yoohyun.
“Hyung, what’s wrong?” he asked.
“Ah, it’s nothing really,” Yoojin had just said, rubbing his back. “Hyung just picked up something heavy a bit too quickly. The pain will be gone soon enough.”
Despite Yoojin waving it off, Yoohyun had gotten up from the table to get the heating pack.
“What a good younger brother I have,” Yoojin said, smiling at him when he returned with it. “Always looking out for your hyung, hm?”
Yoohyun always hated it whenever Yoojin made some comment about looking out for him. It was what Yoohyun always tried to do, but it just served to remind him that he couldn’t look out for his brother in the ways that mattered.
He wanted to take care of his brother. He didn’t want to be a burden on him.
It was why, when asked, he said he wanted to become a doctor. It took a lot of money to make a doctor, but doctors also made a lot of money.
Yoojin would never have to work again, and he certainly wouldn’t have to push himself to do anything when his back hurt or his joints ached or when any of the symptoms of wear and tear that he shouldn’t have in the first place started to manifest.
That dream hadn’t died when Yoohyun Awakened. Not immediately. There were nights when he thought about it. As an S-class, he could take care of Yoojin. It’d be in a different way, but he could still do it.
Until he realized how messy and violent the world was becoming. That this was his world now. And that if he wasn’t quick with a solution, it’d become his brother’s world as well.
There was probably a better way, in retrospect, but the only thing he ever wanted to do was make sure that Yoojin was safe and happy. It’s still the only thing he wants for Yoojin. It was just, as a kid and in an unstable world, Yoohyun couldn’t have both.
And, if Yoohyun had to choose between safe and happy, he’d always choose to keep Yoojin safe.
He’s kept Yoojin afar for all these years and now, he doesn’t even know where his brother is. He can’t even fully argue with the speculations that Yoojin is dead because there is no evidence either way. Yoojin is just gone and Yoohyun knows that if this fades into obscurity, it will be like his brother never existed. No one else would bother to remember his brother.
The screen is still playing, showing various unflattering pictures of Yoojin as the channel decided that now is the best time to go over when hyung was dragged through the mud.
It never registered before, but Yoojin looks so miserable in all these pictures.
“It makes you wonder why he bothered,” the anchor says, shaking her head. It takes a moment to register exactly which Han she is talking about.
If everything over the past eight years comes down to this, then what was even the point?
Something salty reaches the side of his mouth and evaporates. Before he can puzzle out what it is, Yoohyun’s phone rings.
It’s Seok Simyeong.
“What—”
“There’s been an issue with the plane flying the scientists in,” Seok Simyeong says, sounding harried. “I don’t have the full scope, but some hunters at the scene are hearing word that there’s an intruder on the plane.”
“What?” Yoohyun’s mind starts to go into overdrive. If there’s an intruder, and one that appeared during the flight, it has to be a Hunter. Now, the question is if the Hunter is acting alone or not. And in either case, why? “Where is the plane landing?’
Yoohyun runs out the door the moment Seok Simyeong lists the name of the airport, already calling for Kim Sunghan.
“Teleportation ability?” Kim Sunghan suggests as the speed of the car ticks gradually far above the speed limit.
“It would be incredibly difficult to land in a fast-moving vehicle like a plane,” Yoohyun replies tersely. “Might be some kind of portal, but that means there’s a mole.”
Kim Sunghan drives faster, only decreasing once they are in view of the mass media crowd around the airport. Seok Simyeong would have an aneurysm if they hit members of the press.
Yoohyun and Kim Sunghan make their way through the crowd and toward the landing where, according to Seok Simyeong, the plane is being kept sealed off and surrounded by officials. If this were years ago, Song Taewon would have been on the scene. But the man is dead now and the government has no other strong Hunters on its retainer.
So here Yoohyun is, instead.
Contact was cut between the flight crew and outside staff. No one knows what is inside. As such, there’s no way to ascertain what the threat inside is classed at.
“You can open it up,” Yoohyun says when he finally arrives, flames already gathering in his hand.
He wonders how many bodies are waiting inside. Considering the passengers inside, there is no way that this isn’t a targeted attack.
For Seok Simyeong’s sake, he hopes the man’s niece is alright.
The flight crew comes stumbling out first, looking vaguely dizzy. Paramedics lead them away, clearing the way for Yoohyun to push through.
“It’s alright,” the pilot says, looking dazed. Yoohyun isn’t going to take the word of a woman who looks like she could be mildly concussed, but the passengers coming out, all seemingly unharmed, lend credence to the pilot’s statement.
Soon enough, everyone is out, and nothing seems to be wrong. There’s no one missing and everyone is in good health, outside of some headaches and mild nausea.
“Where’s the intruder?” Yoohyun asks, narrowing his eyes.
Most stay quiet, possibly still affected by whatever happened, but Seok Hayan gets up with a burst of energy, waving away the medics trying to get her to rest.
“It’s alright,” she says, “and I trust, something you’ll find very interesting.”
Yoohyun shares a side glance with Kim Sunghan, motioning him to stay outside as he follows Seok Hayan back into the plane. He doesn’t completely trust that her mind is uninfluenced from whoever attacked.
“Hm, he did seem pretty airsick,” Seok Hayan says as they walk aisle after aisle, all of them empty.
“Seok Hayan, what exactly happened?” he says in a smooth voice. If there is some sort of mind influence, best to not antagonize Seok Hayan early on. “Your uncle alerted me that something had gone wrong.”
“That’s what we thought at first,” she says, though some regret colors her voice. Neither Seok Hayan nor Seok Simyeong often mention their relationship, but referring to it is enough to make either go soft. “It’s—well, you’ll see.”
Seok Hayan only slows down when she approaches the bathrooms.
One is still occupied.
Seok Hayan knocks on the door as if this is something completely normal.
A hoarse and raw voice responds, “Let me die in peace.”
“Oh come on, you can’t wallow here forever,” Seok Hayan says.
“Try me.”
Seok Hayan lets out an exasperated sigh. “Come out or I’ll break down the door.”
The person inside grumbles, but Yoohyun can hear the lock turning.
“I hate flights,” the figure—a teenager, really—mutters. At first glance, it looks like some random high school student. Yoohyun doesn’t feel anything indicating that this kid is any kind of high-class Hunter.
Then, the student looks up.
“Didn’t I tell you it’d be interesting?” Seok Hayan’s voice comes.
It is uncertain as to who exactly she is talking to, because staring back at Yoohyun is the fifteen-year-old face of his older brother.