HVG Ch 3

Episode 3

Haewon hesitated. He glanced around, searching for an escape, but behind him was the Tree of Good and Evil, and on either side, a mess of overturned trash. Before he could react, someone else came running up, panting heavily, and shouted the moment they spotted him.

“Hey, I found him! Geumtteok^[1] is—what the hell? Beom Ryeohan, you bastard. You got here first.”

…Why do they keep calling me Geumtteok instead of my actual name? Haewon frowned deeply. Almost instinctively, he turned to the side. Before he knew it, people were gathering near the Tree of Good and Evil.

Sensing their presence, Haewon immediately grabbed his rifle and stood up. As he dusted off his clothes, he discreetly reached into his inner pocket to check his pill bottle.

As he hesitated at the sight of the approaching figures, a shadow loomed beside him. The massive man who had kicked the assailant earlier was coming closer. He wasn’t quite as big as a bear, but he was still far larger than Haewon—enough to be intimidating.

Before he could react, the man had already closed the distance. And before Haewon could even think of a way out, he found himself trapped within the man’s reach.

A thick neck and broad shoulders. As Haewon’s gaze traveled upward, he took in the man’s chiseled, masculine features. Then their eyes met just above the bridge of his nose, and Haewon instinctively leaned back.

“It’s been a while, Hubae-nim.”

The man curved his lips into a smile with his mask lowered.

“You don’t seem too happy to see me. What’s with that expression? I even went through the trouble of saving you.”

It isn’t like I asked to be saved.

“You’re all grown up now. You don’t even welcome your Hyung anymore.”

His voice was slow and heavy, yet there was a sharpness to his words. His expression remained cold, but his smoothly curved eyes carried an air of languid indifference. At a glance, he was the kind of person whose true nature was hard to grasp.

Haewon stared at him before replying with a slight sneer.

“I’ve been grown up for a while now.”

“And yet you were floundering around like that?”

“When was I ever—”

Haewon started to argue but shut his mouth, realizing this conversation would only drag on. Arguing with this man always ended one of two ways, either their exchange fizzled out into nothing, or went on forever until someone was forced to concede.

And more often than not, the one to concede was Seo Haewon.

“Let me take a look. You don’t seem hurt… but could you at least fix your clothes properly? And why do you keep wandering around dangerous places alone?”

His scrutinizing gaze ran up and down Haewon’s disheveled appearance, looking strangely displeased.

Why the hell does he look annoyed? He’s not the one who got tossed into the dirt.

As the man tilted his head, Haewon gave him a light shove with the barrel of his rifle.

“What do you want? Why are you here, Sunbae^[2]?”

“I was just passing by and happened to spot a little runt.”

You could’ve just kept walking, then…? Haewon shot him a look that was practically cursing him out, but the man merely chuckled softly, completely unfazed.

Typically, hair lightens when exposed to sunlight, but even under the dry glare of the sun, his remains as black as ink. Beneath those dark strands, his sharp eyes carried a faint chill, giving off an air of roughness and cold indifference.

Beom Ryeohan.

A senior two years ahead of him at university. They weren’t in the same department, but their classes overlapped enough that they often ran into each other. Eventually, they ended up working on a group project together. That’s how they got to know each other.

Didn’t he say he was majoring in… fine arts?

It had seemed like a fleeting connection, yet Beom Ryeohan had kept in touch with surprising consistency, staying in Haewon’s life for nearly two years. Despite his cold demeanor, he was easygoing and had no rough edges, making it nearly impossible for anyone who knew him to dislike him.

—”Haewon-ah^[3], just for a moment… Can we talk?”

That winter night, in the middle of a park, when he had spoken those words—Haewon had felt an unfamiliar sense of bewilderment for the first time in his life. Unable to give a response, he had bolted from the scene.

That was the last conversation he had with Beom Ryeohan.

It had already been two years. Since that day, they hadn’t spoken at all. So, naturally, Haewon had no idea. No idea that Beom Ryeohan had been dragged into this place as well. In other words, he had awakened too.

“If you’re done with your business, how about we both go our separate ways?”

“Who said I was done? I still have something to ask. What did I tell you last time, Haewon?”

What exactly did he say back then? Haewon rifled through his memories. And then—he remembered.

“……”

Something about giving him an answer. As he stole a glance at Beom Ryeohan, he caught sight of the slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“You remember, don’t you? I told you to decide whether you’d join my guild. But somehow, you managed to forget.”

“I already said no. I told you last time, didn’t I?”

“You’ve still got two chances left. Think it over a little more.”

Beom Ryeohan responded flatly, his expression indifferent—stubborn as ever. Haewon frowned in irritation, brushing the wrinkles out of his clothes for no real reason. Just as he finished straightening himself, he felt a gaze on him.

Instinctively, he looked up—only to find that Beom Ryeohan had somehow gotten even closer. Thick eyebrows, a strong neck, a sharply defined jawline. Objectively speaking, the man was undeniably good-looking.

Noticing his stare, Beom Ryeohan, who had been looking rather bored, tilted his chin at an odd angle and smirked.

“What, are you suddenly turned on by me?”

…Where did he even get that kind of confidence? He had always been shameless, but—no, even when he might’ve been a little reckless before, he had never said anything this crude before.

“No. But the way you’re talking, you sound like a beast, Sunbae.”

For some reason, Haewon always found it difficult to keep his composure around Beom Ryeohan. Lately, the man had been persistently trying to recruit him into his guild. It was pointless—Haewon already had a guild, and he had no intention of leaving.

“Forget it. You should just crawl out of that trash guild of yours.”

“My guild isn’t trash. It’s way better than Sunbae-nim’s guild. And my brother is in it, too.”

“Your brother is the damn problem, so don’t even start. He’s the worst part of it.”

The moment Haewon talked back, Beom Ryeohan immediately snapped in retort. Irritated, Haewon fidgeted with his rifle. Then, he suddenly wondered—why the hell am I just standing here letting him lecture me?

Annoyed, he pushed back harder.

“Sunbae, what did I say I’d do if you brought up joining your guild again? I told you I’d put a bullet in your—”

“A little runt like you? Where will you put it? In my head?”

“…I’ll think about it.”

Why did he feel so small all of a sudden? No, really—anyone would struggle to talk back after looking into those eyes. This wasn’t Seo Haewon’s fault. Those damn eyes were the problem…

Other people might think Beom Ryeohan and Seo Haewon were close, but in reality, that wasn’t quite the case.

Whenever he saw him, Haewon was reminded of that winter two years ago, and it left him feeling restless. While his own heart pounded uncomfortably in his chest, Beom Ryeohan always seemed completely unfazed. No matter what, he’d waltz right up to Haewon and start a conversation as if nothing had ever happened.

Of course, half the time, it was to pressure him into something.

It’s fine. I’ll just ignore him.

“I should get going—”

“Eat first. You have time, don’t you?”

“Eat? Here?”

“At my guild’s place.”

“…I don’t want to.”

What was he up to now? Haewon grabbed his bag from where he had set it aside and hugged it to his chest. He suddenly felt wary, wondering if Beom Ryeohan had his eye on his supplies. So that’s why he helped me so easily? Clicking his tongue, Haewon glanced around, looking for an escape.

As he was trying to figure out how to slip away, his heavy bag began to slide down. Before he could react, a large hand caught it and gently pushed it back into his arms.

“There you go with those eyes again. Relax, I’m not gonna take it. When have I ever stolen anything from you?”

“Oh, I saw it.”

Beom Ryeohan’s lips curled into a smirk. His gaze slid down to Haewon’s face as if to say, Oh? Is that so?

“What exactly did I steal?”

There were too many instances to list. Beom Ryeohan had a habit of helping himself to Haewon’s things—canned coffee, snacks, even food off his plate at the cafeteria. Once, Haewon had watched in disbelief as Beom Ryeohan speared his pork cutlet with a fork and ate it right in front of him. And now, he had the audacity to ask what he had taken?

“…Too many things to count.”

“If you can’t name one, then I must not have taken anything. You’re just focusing on how you feel wronged, aren’t you?”

“No. I’m just holding back because I don’t want to stoop to your level.”

“Seo Haewon. Your stomach’s rumbling. Come to my guild. I’ll let you go after you eat.”

At that, Haewon reflexively tensed his abdomen. What was he talking about? There was no way his stomach had made any noise—he had been snacking all morning.

“Come on, stop being difficult. What’s so great about this guild that you’re recruiting people left and right? We’re dead last in ranking anyway. Forget Beom Ryeohan—who here thinks we should recruit Geumtteok instead? Hands up. I vote yes.”

Jo Seolhyeok, who had been idly spectating with a finger in his ear, chimed in. A chorus of whistles erupted in response.

From what Haewon knew, Jo Seolhyeok was a combat-type awakened and a member of the same guild as Beom Ryeohan. He was also the one who constantly called Haewon Geumtteok. On top of that, the two of them had been university classmates.

“Why don’t you shut your beak, Shijosae^[4]?”

Beom Ryeohan smiled at Jo Seolhyeok’s words and flipped him off before shifting his pitch-black gaze back to Haewon.

At the same time, a distinct click echoed in front of him—the sound of Haewon’s rifle being loaded.

“If you don’t move, I’ll really shoot. I mean it.”

Beom Ryeohan coldly glanced down at the rifle’s scorched muzzle.

So, he’s trying to put up a bold front.

But his aim was off.

At a time like this, he should be aiming for a vital spot, but instead, he was targeting the thigh.

Guess he’s not just soft all the way through. At least he’s got the guts to point a rifle at someone.

“At least you know how to protect what’s yours.”

Surprisingly, Beom Ryeohan backed off without much fuss. He raised both hands in surrender and took a few leisurely steps back, his cold eyes softening into a smile.

“Alright, I’ll let you go this time.”

“Wow, the nerve. Who’s letting who off the hook? I was the one going easy on you.”

“Fine, we’ll go with that, then.”

His nonchalant response made Haewon’s blood boil. What the hell is with this guy?

Haewon couldn’t understand why Beom Ryeohan was wasting time trying to recruit him. What did he gain from this?

Even if you didn’t want to hear them, rumors always found their way to people’s ears.

Even someone like Haewon, who usually didn’t care about gossip, had no choice but to hear about Beom Ryeohan.

Not that it was good publicity—more like tales of his eccentric behavior. Or rather, his infamy.

Everyone here knew Beom Ryeohan’s name. Even if one managed to avoid hearing about him, his group was impossible to miss.

They would huddle together, laughing amongst themselves, acting as if food supplies didn’t matter to them—yet they often lurked around the Tree of Good and Evil, making people uneasy. Sometimes, they would prod at passersby, picking fights just for the hell of it.

And yet, Beom Ryeohan never laid a hand on the relief supplies or the food.

People called them “Mad Dogs.”

Given that, Haewon couldn’t understand why Beom Ryeohan was trying to recruit him—or why he kept persistently trying to convince him, even after being rejected.

“Ah. Haewon-ah, come here for a sec.”

Out of nowhere, Beom Ryeohan gestured with a lazy flick of his fingers.

Go or don’t go…

Haewon hesitated, swallowing dryly as he watched Beom Ryeohan from a few steps away.

Still, he eventually moved forward, lips pressing into a sulky pout.

The moment he got close, a large hand slipped something into his coat pocket before withdrawing just as quickly.

As if that had been his sole purpose, Beom Ryeohan immediately turned and walked away, striding off without a hint of hesitation—despite how persistently he had clung to Haewon just moments ago.

“That’s enough for today. Think about your answer.”

“Sunbae, do you even have a conscience—”

“Should I just hear your answer now? I don’t mind. Oh, and while we’re at it, we could stop by my guild and grab a meal.”

“……”

I just have to leave, right? I should just go. It’s not fear of shit that makes people avoid it—it’s because it’s filthy.

Feeling wronged, Haewon stomped his foot harder than necessary. But just as he was about to walk off, a voice called out from behind him again.

“Six o’clock direction from the Tree of Good and Evil—that’s where my guild is, so remember it. There’s a cat drawn on the door, one that looks like you.”

“Oh, sure. Of course it is.”

“There you go, cutting me off… Haah. I’m saying, come by whenever you need it. You might actually need it later, so don’t forget.”

I won’t need to. Haewon swallowed the words and resumed walking. But then, unintentionally, he came to a stop again.

He had reached into his pocket and confirmed what Beom Ryeohan had slipped in.

“Tsk.“

What Beom Ryeohan had tucked into his pocket were two bottles of the same medicine that Haewon had in his inner pocket. A psychotropic sedative.

“Where the hell did he even get these?”

Haewon shoved the bottles back into his pocket but suddenly became aware of a man rummaging through boxes in the corner of his vision.

Ah… What do I do?

Scratching the back of his neck, Haewon eventually sighed, shouldered his bag of supplies, and walked toward the man he had fought earlier.

Without a word, he tossed one of the pill bottles onto the ground.

The man, who had been desperately digging through the boxes, turned and looked up at Haewon.

“I won’t be coming here again, so get your meds from here like you used to.”

“Oh—uh, th-thanks.”

“Hey. Keep your mouth shut, too. If word gets out that I take these, your head’s coming off.”

“Uh… Got it. I’ll keep my promise, don’t worry”

The man hastily grabbed the pill bottle and nodded stiffly. Only then did Haewon let out a sigh and turn away.

By now, his guild members were probably wondering why he was taking so long, growing restless with impatience.

As he climbed the sloped path with his heavy bag, sweat poured down his back like rain. Breathing heavily, Haewon pounded his chest to steady himself, then instinctively reached for his pill bottle.

But he quickly clicked his tongue and bit down on his lip, forcing himself to endure.

Here, in Seonak Island, mental illness was a death sentence.

It had started with an Awakened who, suffering from severe anxiety, lost control and killed their own teammates. After that, crimes committed by mentally unstable Awakened became an ongoing issue.

In response, guilds began expelling or outright ignoring those with psychological disorders, turning them into outcasts. Even those with mild symptoms had no choice but to hide their conditions.

Because if they didn’t, they wouldn’t be accepted into a guild.

And without a guild, survival was nearly impossible.

Haewon was just one among many who had chosen to hide his weakness.

“Geumtteok-nim, see you the day after tomorrow?”

“Haewon hyung-nim! We’re counting on you for the monster wave!”

“Hey, hey! What do you mean, ‘counting on you,’ you idiot? We need to rake in points too! This time, let’s get out of the negative rankings!”

Haewon ignored the voices calling after him.

Instead of reaching for his pills, he grabbed the water bottle tied to his waist, twisted the cap open, and took long, deliberate gulps.