By Zephyria 
By hunting in the beginner fields for one more day with the HG Guild, he was able to refill his divine power to a certain extent. He wanted to continue venturing into the fields with them if possible, but it seemed the HG Guild members had other primary occupations and couldn’t dedicate themselves solely to guild activities. Even the Guild Master mentioned that his main job was as a freelance programmer.
‘Since I have some spare time, maybe I should try something more active.’
Kim Si-baek decided to challenge himself with cooking, something he had been putting off.
[Death and Beauty asks when you last held a kitchen knife.]
“It’s been decades since I actually cooked… but isn’t slicing a magical beast and slicing vegetables ultimately the same thing? It’s the same knife work.”
[Death and Beauty scolds you, asking if the act of granting death and the act of cooking could possibly be the same.]
The avatar of the god, who couldn’t even hold a kitchen knife with its wings, offered unsolicited advice.
[Death and Beauty suggests using a ‘meal kit’ so that you don’t waste divine power recovering from a finger injury while cooking.]
After hearing the explanation about meal kits, Kim Si-baek asked skeptically.
“Isn’t that just like 3-minute curry? If I’m just heating it up and serving it, how is that any different from delivery food?”
[Death and Beauty argues that it is indeed home cooking because you use the stove and the process of plating is different.]
He wasn’t sure if the logic held up, but thanks to this, Kim Si-baek remembered the existence of convenience foods. Now that he had the final resort of meal kits and retort pouches even if his cooking failed, he searched the kitchen with a slightly more relaxed mind. And in less than ten minutes, he hit a wall.
“…There’s absolutely nothing usable in this kitchen.”
He knew there was nothing in the refrigerator but bottled water. However, he never imagined the cupboards would be completely empty. Not a single seasoning—salt, soy sauce, sesame oil, garlic—was in sight. There wasn’t even a single common pack of instant ramen.
Should he have guessed this when he noticed there were no kitchen utensils other than the refrigerator, stove, and microwave? Even the stove felt like it had been added as a basic option during the interior design. The microwave was the only thing he had bought himself to reheat leftovers after he and Tae-un started ordering delivery.
[Death and Beauty is appalled, saying it’s the first time they’ve seen a kitchen without even a frying pan.]
“Come to think of it, I bought the small plates and cutlery after I arrived.”
No frying pan, no rice cooker, no pots, and no kitchen knives. He seriously doubted whether cooking was even possible in this kitchen, but he headed to the mart regardless.
Magical beasts didn’t care where they lived, but if they made a bustling city center their habitat, hunters would prioritize subjugating them. Because of this, magical beast habitats were mostly in sparsely populated areas like rural villages or mountains. People who had suddenly lost their homes and hometowns to magical beasts remained an unresolved social issue to this day.
However, as farmland decreased, Awakened with the ability to promote plant growth appeared, so food production seemed to be similar to the past. He had heard that Sister Benedicta, the S-class Awakened of the Hope Orphanage, also possessed traits related to plant growth.
‘Even if I visit the orphanage now, I’d just be a guest. Besides, I shouldn’t be seen by the sisters yet.’
Kim Si-baek brushed aside the fragment of the past with a bitter smile and looked around the mart. As he started picking up seasonings and kitchenware one by one, he felt like something was off. He wanted to make a light meal just to test his cooking skills, but this was becoming a case of the tail wagging the dog.
Ultimately, taking Biyendwe’s advice, he returned with only retort foods and pre-made side dishes from the mart. He heated the soup and rice, put them in the few bowls he had, and moved them to the table. The only thing that could even be called “cooking” was microwave steamed eggs. Of course, Biyendwe had searched for the recipe.
He didn’t even have salt to season the eggs, but he had some leftover soy sauce from the sushi they ordered the day before yesterday. He mixed that in to adjust the taste.
Just as he was poking the steamed eggs with chopsticks to check if they were cooked through after taking them out of the microwave, Tae-un returned from work.
“Did you actually make dinner?”
“I didn’t do it; the big corporation and the microwave did everything…”
It felt quite awkward to put such things on the table, but Tae-un, contrary to expectations, looked delighted, his eyes practically sparkling.
“When I visited your studio apartment back then, the tteokbokki and grilled Spam you made for me were really delicious.”
“I’ve forgotten how to make tteokbokki.”
He tilted his head, unable to remember exactly what the tteokbokki had tasted like, and Tae-un smiled as if reading his mind.
“Let’s buy tteokbokki next time.”
Kim Si-baek felt even more bashful that Tae-un didn’t suggest making it together, and he picked up his utensils. Tae-un took a scoop of the steamed eggs, the only thing that could be called Kim Si-baek’s cooking. Heart racing for some reason, he watched as Tae-un chewed and swallowed the eggs with a satisfied look.
“It’s been a while since I’ve had steamed eggs outside of a meat restaurant. It’s delicious.”
He had added the leftover soy sauce by eye, so he was relieved the seasoning was right. Relieved, Kim Si-baek took a spoonful of the eggs himself, and his eyes widened.
“…?!”
He hurriedly poured water into a glass and gulped it down, horrified.
“Is it okay that it’s this salty?”
“Salty? The part I ate was seasoned just right.”
“Maybe the soy sauce didn’t mix well with the eggs?”
Tearing up as he threw away the steamed eggs, Kim Si-baek made a new vow to just stick to delivery food from now on.
✽ ✽ ✽
If the Great Cataclysm hadn’t occurred and humanity had continued to prosper, the October sky—which might have been murky and warm due to global warming or smog—was clear and high. Gray, thin trails of smoke spread across that blueness.
It was Pi Min-hyeong and Seo Gae-un, having a post-meal cigarette break on the rooftop.
“Did that happen while I was out in the field hunting for a few days? What did Tae-un oppa say at the cafe? Isn’t that practically sexual harassment if you think about it?”
“Tae might kill people, but he’s never sexually harassed anyone.”
“Besides, he’s a man fourteen years older.”
“Does that even matter when that bastard’s eyes flip the moment he sees Hyung-nim?”
“…That, is certainly true.”
A cold gaze that held no goodwill for others became so gentle and sweet it was almost exaggerated whenever he looked at Kim Si-baek; in a sense, his eyes were indeed flipped.
Seo Gae-un thought it was quite surprising that someone as cold as Tae-un would disregard his own body to the point of earning the unpleasant nickname ‘mad dog’ whenever he saved lives or hunted magical beasts. There were times he ignored magical beasts appearing, but those were situations that would be resolved even if Tae-un didn’t step in.
It likely meant his nature was still fundamentally kind. Just like when he saved the people isolated in Seoul.
However, liking and respecting Tae-un as a hunter was a separate issue from his romantic affairs.
“The teacher seems like a good person, but I shouldn’t accompany you to meetings with Tae-un oppa in the future.”
“In my opinion, that Hyung-nim is part of the cause too. Anyway, about that tattoo. Was it always that long? Didn’t it barely show above the collar in the past?”
Seo Gae-un clicked a link to a post sent by a teammate. In the Instagram Reel linked to a post titled ‘The Mad Dog Kneeling is Real,’ the tattoo on the neck was clearly visible. These days, phone camera quality is almost too good. Since the content was obvious, she didn’t bother checking the comments.
“I’m not sure. Maybe it’s because he’s wearing clothes with a deeper neckline?”
“You think so?”
Pi Min-hyeong roughly agreed. He had only looked closer because the crazy bastard had rambled about it being an erogenous zone; it wasn’t something he was particularly concerned about. Tattoos could be extended with more ink, after all.
While chatting aimlessly, they had already finished their cigarettes. Just as Pi Min-hyeong was about to head back, a conversation suddenly occurred to him, and he looked back at Seo Gae-un.
“Have you ever felt anything strange when Hyung-nim looks at us or talks to us?”
“What do you mean by strange?”
“Eun-ho said he looks at us as if he’s known us since a long time ago. That bastard’s intuition is razor-sharp. He said Hyung-nim didn’t even know how famous Tae was, and there’s no way we’re the only ones who knew through rumors.”
Though from a different angle than Yang Eun-ho, she had also harbored a similar doubt.
“I’m not sure about the gaze, but I once asked because it seemed like oppa and the teacher had known each other for quite a while, but he didn’t give a proper answer. He said there was no need to know, and even if I did, I wouldn’t understand.”
“Right. Tae isn’t the type to ramble about first loves or anything, but if they were that close, there’s no way we wouldn’t have known. Is it just because it was a long time ago that we can’t remember?”
“No matter how young we were, there’s no way we wouldn’t have known.”
Seo Gae-un repeated Pi Min-hyeong’s words: there was no way they wouldn’t have known.
Kim Si-baek’s abilities were overwhelming and proficient. A hunter with that level of skill couldn’t have had a short awakening period; if he were an acquaintance met after the Great Cataclysm, they would have found out somehow.
It was highly likely he was an acquaintance from before the Great Cataclysm. Provided they could resolve the problem of ‘no way they wouldn’t have known’ an adult male close to Tae-un.
“The age difference between oppa and the teacher is fourteen years. To us now, people in their twenties are just fresh-faced kids, but twenty or thirty years ago, the perspective would have been different. To our eyes back then, the teacher would have looked like an ‘adult man.’”
Pi Min-hyeong sighed and scratched the back of his head.
“Damn, you’re right. There’s no way we’d forget an adult man close to Tae. Even if we forgot the name or face because it was a long time ago, the memory that ‘such an adult existed’ would naturally remain.”
Tae-un, who had been rescued at age five and entered the orphanage, was truly terrified of adult men. At the time, even the priest at the cathedral struggled to approach him. As he grew, the fear gradually dissipated, but even as a middle school student, he still avoided adult men.
“When we were isolated in Seoul. At the time, we were too busy surviving day by day to think deeply about it, but didn’t Tae-un oppa feel strangely familiar?”