Han Yujin looked at his brother standing before him with desperate eyes. Yuhyun’s expression was cold—so cold that my body froze too. Though unfamiliar now, that chilling gaze had once felt all too familiar. Han Yujin swallowed hard. He’d called his brother here but couldn’t speak. At last, he managed to force out a few words. “J-just once... I—never... asked you to owe me ....” A bitter laugh drifted in the air. Someone murmured about all the harm he’d caused so far. Han Yujin ground his teeth. I felt anger flare inside me for no reason. “Just... let a healer from Guild Haeyeon... treat me once....” “Why would I do that?” A low voice answered, and Yujin’s shoulders slumped. Yuhyun took a step toward him. His eyes—dull, emotionless—fixed on Yujin. “You think I’d do that?” It felt cold—even though we were indoors. My heart dropped. It still did. Back then, it might have been easier to break entirely. “You won’t be strutting into dungeons anymore.” Yujin’s gaze fell helplessly. His lips pressed together, his pupils trembled wildly. I stared blankly until I snapped out, “Add subtitles! Make it clear it was unavoidable under the circumstances and not Hunter Yuhyun’s true intention! Quickly!” As I urged him, Yuhyun’s face, which had looked down on Yujin, darkened. A clear sadness gathered on his shadowed features. His lowered eyes trembled in anguish—so visible that anyone could see how much he suffered. He wouldn’t show that helplessness now. Before I could even ask what was happening, Luga Peya spoke. “That wasn’t what Yujin actually saw. He couldn’t have seen it.” True enough, Yujin hung his head. Back then, all he could see was his brother’s feet. “Memory always shifts a little. And you saw parts of your brother’s memories, too. That’s why he appeared like that. Memories that were supposed to be yours alone—painful, sad, and angry.” He’d felt sorrow with him. Certainly he had. Yuhyun turned away—his back, which once felt so cold, looked full of grief. “Just live in peace. Stop holding your brother back.” It had been a firm, cold command. But now Yuhyun’s voice wavered. My memories and the fragments of his own merged to reveal his true feelings. Yujin was dragged outside. The door closed, and Yuhyun—whom I couldn’t see—stood frozen. A thin breath escaped his lips. He looked lost in a dark forest, unsure which way to turn. “...I’m sorry, hyung.” He managed only those words. Though he must have carried years of more to say, he’d pressed them down until he couldn’t even speak. My brother, who hadn’t shed a single tear until the end. “...I don’t know. My chest hurts, but it’s not just sadness.” I saw Yujin stagger off. Normally I might have felt pity, but I didn’t. It had only been bad luck, bad circumstances. He and his brother had never changed in their feelings for each other—from beginning to end. “I was so lonely then I thought I’d die.” Still, he’d harbored a faint hope. He’d become a lower-rank Hunter, doing his share. So maybe—just maybe—he could hear “Are you okay?” Screeeek—the front door opened. The house, already stripped of life by his hospitalization, seemed even more desolate. “...Couldn’t it work?” “Like before... it just can’t....” He kicked off his shoes, sat down without even turning on a light. Was it time to give up? Watching him, a small laugh escaped me. Luga Peya tapped my head. ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ 𝙣𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡·𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖·𝔫𝔢𝔱 “Not exactly a funny scene by human standards, huh?” “No, it’s... thinking back, that was the point I felt most hopeless. I thought everything was over. I didn’t even have the strength to struggle.” Even if the world ended, I’d at least curse it with one last word. But then, I had no strength. I had no method or power—just despair. “I thought it ended, but it hadn’t. It was the opposite, actually. And you know what else?” That Yujin—who didn’t even know—moved again. Though nearly smothered by sorrow and loneliness, he still tried to live. Even under those conditions, he remained a Hunter. He didn’t give up. “You’ll live a long time. Folks like you have the longest lifespans.” Dohamin glared at him and grumbled. “So is there no contraband to fix a leg?” “That kind of back-alley deal is pricier. And these days upper-rank potions are so rare even with money. As dungeons proliferate and get tougher, upper-rank Hunters sweep them clean—especially upper-rank Healers. They’re always screaming how they’re starving, day after day.” “...But legally it’s impossible.” By then the priority was upper-rank Hunters and immediate life-threatening situations. If a lower-rank Hunter with a noncritical injury asked for treatment, they’d be urged to retire instead. “There’s no choice but a lucky drop in a dungeon. You can keep what you loot. They do show up in mid-rank dungeons now and then. Want domestic dungeon drop records?” “Yeah. Give me that.” “With that leg, you won’t join a formal squad. Maybe porter, at best.” “I’ve got to try. Ever dropped in a low-rank dungeon?” “None domestically. Overseas rumors exist, but they say it’s hearsay.” If not hearsay, someone must’ve succeeded specially. I’d gotten an upper-rank potion in an E-rank dungeon after regression. Dohamin eyed me and lowered his voice. Dohamin shrugged. Han Yujin lived on. And then— The scene before me suddenly shook violently, like a broken TV. Luga Peya cocked her head and said, “Looks like it’s eaten after all.” I clutched my head with both hands as she continued, “The Eclipse power is patchy, so fragments remain.” “Yeah. Most Eclipse-related bits are gone.” I’d heard they were erased in the Chinese Nightmare Dungeon. I didn’t remember, but was curious. Sssss, Luga Peya’s tentacles crept across my face and nape. Goosebumps ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) rose in floods. I’d never liked tentacles, but thanks to the jellyfish I hated them thrice as much. “See? Not painful at all~” “You’re curious too. Just stay still. Feels like your skin’s softer. How far has it changed? Did you grow tentacles too?” Don’t ask me that—I’m trying not to think about it. Tentacles I’d tried before, so fine. Beyond that... let’s pretend I don’t notice. Seems nothing else changed, so let’s pretend for now I’m okay. Han Yujin muttered. Fragments of erased memories splintered and reappeared. “This won’t happen again. Really. I only came because they said I’d just carry potions. Who knew foreign upper-rank Hunters would get involved?” I don’t recall it, but that was a hundred percent a lie. He probably joined a smuggling ring to steal top-grade potions. If these are erased memories, then the person on the other end was— “So please don’t tell Guild Haeyeon, okay?” Song Taewon’s voice came. Han Yujin’s eyes widened. “It’s Hunter Han Yujin’s affair. It has nothing to do with Guild Haeyeon.” Of course. But to me it never felt obvious. Whenever Yujin screwed up, people blamed Guild Leader Haeyeon’s brother, then asked why the guild didn’t bear responsibility. Yujin nodded uncertainly. “Smuggling upper-rank items is a major crime. But if lower-rank Hunters or unawakened folks are caught up in a crime led by upper-rank Hunters, punishment depends on role and contribution—” Song Taewon’s voice blurred and then vanished. In such cases, lower-rank Hunters often weren’t punished—they had to obey or risk death. Often they became targets to eliminate evidence and so received protection from the Association or the Bureau. “...Upper-rank smuggling.” I vaguely remembered. Smuggling was common, but I think there was one big case involving overseas S-rank Hunters. But as I recall, it had nothing to do with me. Had I known Director Song since then? What about Seong Hyunjae? And Yerim? “I like Director Song Taewon.” Her voice came in fragments. “To him, you’re just Han Yujin.” “He isn’t close to me, yet from the start he watched over me after Guild Haeyeon.” “He’s a good person. Really.” Yes, he’s a good person. Anyone meeting Director Song would like him—apart from criminals, perhaps. Actually, even some fans among criminals arrested by him, maybe. “Ugh, still stuck~ Even if I gather the remaining fragments, they won’t join up.” While Luga Peya grumbled, memory shards floated past. “Hamin uncle said he’d introduce me.” “I’m the same age as Hunter Han Yujin.” Wait—same age? Who—? The voice was unfamiliar, but surely not—conscience, at least. “I don’t care, damn it! He’s my brother!” “I think Guild Leader Haeyeon is the most handsome, to be honest. Just his face.” “That shop’s braised tofu is delicious.” “We don’t go anywhere at Christmas.” Short voices appeared and vanished. Mostly trivial chat, but I was glad. And again Han Yujin stood alone. “I hate being cold. My leg aches.” He sighed and tapped his knee with his fist. His limp remained, and hope was scarce. Dungeon levels rose and Hunter society grew harsher. Dohamin even advised me to avoid crowded Hunter spots—they’d pick a scapegoat easily. Han Yujin kept walking. Both remembered faces and unknown ones brushed past him. Alone once more, he still endured. A paper cup of warm coffee was offered to Han Yujin. He bowed with a smile. Though wounded, there were still reasons to smile. That’s how Han Yujin lived. As ordinary people do. Han Yuhyun wrapped his arms around Han Yujin. Between the dragon’s throat rumble, crimson flames and the scent of blood intertwined. Yuhyun was smiling. My face was a wreck. I think I answered calmly—no, I was at a loss. Could that really have been me? Did I at least show Yuhyun how much I worried? Loving my brother just as when we were kids. Han Yujin caught Yuhyun as he collapsed, his face on the brink of tears. “...I’m okay, hyung.” I murmured instead. It’s my memory—please say you’re okay. Say thank you, say you love me. Even if not genuine—I needed it. But Han Yujin couldn’t speak. Like he couldn’t accept self-satisfaction, he didn’t utter a single word. Darkness closed in. As if a curtain fell, my vision turned pitch-black. My throat ached as if I’d swallowed fire. I couldn’t speak. If I weren’t bound, I’d have leapt forward in desperation. [And so, through some stroke of luck, Han Yujin returned to five years ago~☆]