Kim Shibaek’s first impression of the man was, ‘He sure love the color black.’
Not just his hair, which was neatly slicked back, but his three-piece suit, shoes, leather gloves, and the coat draped over his shoulders—all were entirely black.
But most of all, his eyes.
His jet-black, three-whites eyes seemed to absorb light, making it hard to discern his full appearance.
When Kim finally saw his face, he was struck by its elegance, to the point that he might have gasped under different circumstances.
The man’s sharp, well-defined features were striking yet strong.
If they had been slightly thicker, they might have seemed too blunt, and if they had been thinner, they might have appeared unbalanced.
His beauty was nothing short of exquisite.
Even with all his years of experience as an apostle of a prominent religious order, having encountered countless beautiful people, this man’s appearance was rare.
The last time someone’s looks had captured his attention like this had been the child who was the cutest and most beautiful in the world.
‘The way his eyes slant upward is really similar…’
However, the left side of the man’s face bore a large scar, as though a beast had clawed at him viciously.
His complexion was so pale that the brutal wound, in an odd way, gave him a strange vitality, proving he wasn’t a corpse.
The man’s cold, black pupils stared at Kim Shibaek.
[‘Death and Beauty’ said that the man’s aura is more ominous than Edocus.]
“Um, Guild Master Taewoon?”
While both the person who came with him and Kwak Yoonsang showed signs of confusion, Kim Shibaek continued to calmly observe the man.
Objectively speaking, he was incredibly handsome, but the black clothes, combined with the harsh scar, gave him an intimidating and fierce aura, only heightened by his cold, emotionless expression.
Ultimately, Kim Shibaek came to a conclusion.
‘…Is he a gangster?’
Despite the man’s handsome face, his menacing presence, the scar on his face, and the way he stormed in uninvited suggested he might be someone from a gang.
It wouldn’t be surprising if he had barged in to pick a fight.
Yet, there was something else that tugged at the corner of Kim Shibaek’s mind. That black gaze, those slanted three-whites eyes—there was something vaguely familiar about them…
While Kim Shibaek furrowed his brow, mulling over the strange sense of déjà vu, the man moved first.
Without a word, he began to walk toward Kim Shibaek.
Step, step.
The sound of his shoes on the floor was steady, and a chilling air seemed to follow his every move.
Even as Kwak Yoonsang tensed and reached for his sword, Kim Shibaek remained seated, unfazed.
He was confident in his ability to handle whatever might happen, but he was also curious to see how this man, who had entered so abruptly, would act.
It had been about thirty years since someone had dared to confront him in this way.
The man, exuding coldness as he approached, loomed over him.
He appeared to be in his mid-thirties.
Just as when he entered, Kim Shibaek noticed how tall he was. 195 centimeters? 196?
The man’s lips, as pale as the rest of his face, parted slightly.
“Hyung.”
The moment that simple, ordinary word left the man’s lips, it was as though a vibrant energy bloomed from his face, like flowers blossoming from his tongue.
It was as if a grayscale painting had suddenly been filled with color.
The man who had resembled a corpse smiled brightly, his face radiant.
“Shibaek hyung, I’ve missed you so much.”
It was a dramatic transformation, as if the desolate, stormy wilderness had suddenly become a peaceful, warm spring day.
All this, just from the way he addressed one person.
Even Kim Shibaek, who had been watching the man’s actions with little thought, found himself swallowing a gasp at the sheer beauty of the smile.
However, Kim Shibaek’s response was clear, regardless of any admiration he might have felt.
“Who are you?”
He didn’t have any thug-like younger brother.
Taewoon.
Who was he?
As the guild master of one of Korea’s top guild, Seven Guild, he possessed immense power, wealth naturally accompanying it, and a wide network with highly ranked hunters.
He was an S-rank hunter, after all.
But what Taewoon was most known for wasn’t his abilities, looks, or the somewhat casino-like name of his guild. It was his personality—violent, cruel, and ruthless to a degree no one could handle.
In short, Taewoon was a mad dog.
That mad dog was smiling sweetly, using polite honorifics, instead of glaring or tearing apart the young man in front of him. It was no wonder Kwak Yoonsang found it hard to believe what was happening.
Just moments earlier, he had been determined to visit a mental hospital after work for some counseling, and now, the calm “Who are you?” from Kim Shibaek made him feel deeply betrayed.
He clearly speaks Korean, and fluently, in a native Seoul accent no less!
While Kwak Yoonsang trembled, Kim Shibaek held out Beyondoe protectively in his palm and asked again.
The man had clearly addressed him as “Shibaek hyung,” so he must know him.
Any theories about parallel worlds or time 70 years into the future were swept away by those words.
The only problem was that he genuinely didn’t recognize the face.
“Do you know me?”
“Hmm.”
Taewoon rubbed his lips, looking both troubled and amused.
“You really don’t recognize me? I know I’ve changed a lot.”
“I’ve never accepted dirty money from any gangsters.”
“Haha. I never did such bad things as beating people up. I waited for you to return and grew up nicely.”
Kwak Yoonsang, who had been inadvertently eavesdropping on the conversation, was stunned.
Sure, Taewoon may not have beaten people up directly. He would have just killed them.
“Hmm. Would you recognize me if I did this?”
With movements far too gentle for his size, Taewoon lowered himself to the ground.
Sitting fully on the floor, he looked up at Kim Shibaek, resting his face on Kim Shibaek’s knee and softly smiling.
“Hyung.”
Witnessing that sight gave Kwak Yoonsang chills down his spine, but Kim Shibaek was finally able to awaken a hazy sense of familiarity.
‘Hyung.’
How could he not know? How could he forget?
The innocent smile of the child who had followed him around, the gaze, that face.
“Woonie loves you the most in the world.”
He had whispered shyly into Kim Shibaek’s ear, cheeks turning a rosy red.
And when Kim Shibaek responded that he loved him the most too, the child had smiled as if he owned the world. It had been the cutest, most lovable thing Kim Shibaek had ever experienced.
“…Woonie?”
With eyes filled with the heat of that summer day, Taewoon answered lazily.
“Yes. It’s me, Woonie. Shibaek hyung.”
✽ ✽ ✽
It was a shock. An enormous, overwhelming shock.
More shocking than the truth that time had flowed differently in the world he had left behind, or even the fact that, despite all the ups and downs, he had returned to Korea. How could this be?
Kim Shibaek stared blankly at Taewoon.
“How did the kid grow up like this…? My Woonie used to smell like sunshine when standing, like milk when toddling around, and his chubby cheeks were so soft with baby fat. He was this tiny, adorable little thing…”
“I know, I should’ve taken better care of my skin to avoid aging so much.”
The younger sibling he had raised since he was five had skipped the entire growing process and appeared before him as a fully grown man in his mid-30s.
To make matters worse, he had a large scar on his face.
Kim Shibaek was so overwhelmed by shock that he couldn’t think straight. Even when he had crash-landed in Slecht, he hadn’t been this panicked.
[‘Death and Beauty’ staring at the man with a face both eerie and beautiful, urges you to get a grip.]
Beyondoe, now perched on his head, poked at his scalp.
“Ouch, ouch, ouch. But Woonie, what’s with the scar on your face? How did you get hurt this badly? It breaks my heart…”
“It hurt a lot when it happened.”
“Oh no, it hurt a lot?”
“Yes, especially the wound around my eye. It bled so much, it wouldn’t stop. It was terrifying and painful, and at the time, I missed you so much…”
As if recalling the memory, Taewoon shuddered slightly.
Superimposed over him was the image of a young Taewoon, bravely walking back to the orphanage with a badly scraped knee, only to tear up and start crying the moment he saw Kim Shibaek from a distance.
Kim Shibaek’s eyes were full of sympathy, but Kwak Yoonsang felt like he was going to die.
As far as he knew, the scar on Taewoon’s face was from a battle 17 years ago, during the recapture of Busan.
Scared? Yeah, right.
Taewoon had thrown himself into a horde of monsters, slashing through nine heads of the S-rank monster Sangryu at the age of 18.
Meanwhile, Kim Shibaek, feeling comforted, allowed Taewoon to rest his cheek against his knee.
Despite growing into a face that made him look older than Kim Shibaek, his childish affection made Shibaek think he was still the same lovable child from back then.
[‘Death and Beauty’ asks if you really find that hulking figure rubbing against you cute.]
It couldn’t be helped.
No matter how big or old Taewoon had grown, in Kim Shibaek’s eyes, he would always be the little five-year-old boy.
He wanted to heal the scar on Taewoon’s face, but it was too old to be treated.
All he could do was stroke it gently, and Taewoon smiled, his eyes crinkling warmly.
“Did you run into a bear while climbing a mountain?”
“Not a bear. It was a monster.”
“Ah…”
Kim Shibaek trailed off awkwardly. He had many questions—how much time had passed, where the monsters had come from, whether he had kept in touch with others—but he knew he wasn’t alone.
“So, uh, you do know Guild Master Taewoon, right? Your name is Shibaek, if I heard correctly?”
Kwak Yoonsang seized the momentary pause in the conversation to ask, trying to break the awkward tension.
“May I ask your full name? Not that I have any ulterior motive, I just want to thank you properly and offer a reward for your help…”
“I’m having a conversation with my hyung, Hunter Kwak Yoonsang.”
Taewoon stood up and looked down at Kwak Yoonsang.
His voice, cold and sharp, was completely different from the one he had used when talking to Kim Shibaek.
The hem of his coat twitched ominously, and Kwak Yoonsang tensed up.
‘Damn.’
Who would’ve thought asking for someone’s name during a lull in conversation would make him this angry?
Surely, he wouldn’t… swallow him whole over something this small…?
While Kwak Yoonsang frantically searched for an escape route, something even more unimaginable happened right in front of his eyes.
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