The Allure of Kio Merchandise

Kim Ajun picked up the cup resting on the table, a note of regret in his voice. “Our coffee is quite delicious, but you haven’t even touched it… now it’s gone completely cold.”

Only then did Seo Dowoon’s gaze finally drift away from the robe.

Kim Ajun truly lamented the sight of the lukewarm coffee, utterly untouched. Among the guild members, only two actually drank coffee, making the general consensus that a capsule machine was an extravagance. They had endured years of instant coffee mixes before finally committing to this purchase. It was also the very first time they had served it to a guest.

“Oh, I’ll drink it now. Please, hand it over.”

As Seo Dowoon extended a hand, Kim Ajun deftly pulled the cup back towards his chest, shaking his head with firm conviction.

“You’re our guest; you deserve something delightful. This one has cooled too much, so I’ll simply drink it myself. Would you prefer a fresh cup?”

“That would be wonderful, thank you.”

Though he hadn’t wanted to leave, Kim Ajun’s offer to brew fresh coffee sounded like an invitation to linger a little longer.

“Please, have a seat. I’ll be right back. By the way, did you ever get that Awakener test done?”

“No, I haven’t found the time.”

“What a pity. You really should get it checked eventually. My intuition is usually quite sharp, and… well, you just don’t strike me as an ordinary civilian.”

Yielding to the repeated insistence, Seo Dowoon nodded and settled onto the sofa right beside Han Gureum. While Kim Ajun had indeed invited him to sit, he hadn’t specified that particular spot. Nevertheless, Seo Dowoon effortlessly took the seat next to Han Gureum, who was sprawled languidly across the cushions. He yearned to sit closer, but mindful that Han Gureum might find it intrusive, he deliberately left a gap roughly the width of a man’s fist.

Han Gureum glanced at Seo Dowoon, who had now settled into the plush depths of the sofa, before promptly turning his head away. His expression betrayed not the slightest curiosity as to Seo Dowoon’s presence.

Baek Heeseong, casually perching on the edge of the office desk, turned his attention to Seo Dowoon.

“Your aunt mentioned earlier that you’ll be managing things from now on, and that she’s moving to Canada.”

“Oh? Auntie’s off to Canada? I thought her son was already living there.”

“Yes, she’s apparently immigrating for good. It’s certainly better there than here; fewer gates tend to open, after all.”

Kim Ajun nodded in emphatic agreement with Baek Heeseong’s observation.

Despite Canada’s vast landmass, Korea inexplicably experienced a higher incidence of gate appearances—a global phenomenon whose cause remained undiscovered. Perhaps relatedly, the number of Awakeners in Korea was disproportionately high relative to its population, a trend that also held true for high-grade Awakeners. Undeniably, when comparing population and land area, countries like China and India might boast one or two S-rank Awakeners, while Korea counted five. The prevalence of high-grade Awakeners, including A and B ranks, was also notably higher. It was widely speculated that this phenomenon was somehow linked to the frequent emergence of gates, though concrete proof remained elusive.

“You referred to her as your aunt earlier. It must be a shame that she’s moving so far away.”

“Aunts, too, deserve to live with their own families.”

“But you’re also family with your aunt, aren’t you?”

“We are family, yes, but… it’s a different kind of family.”

The distinction between one’s own child and a nephew or niece is self-evident; however fond one might be of a nephew, the bond differs fundamentally from that with a biological child. Regardless, Seo Dowoon felt no sorrow at his aunt’s departure. In fact, he was rather pleased, as her decision to immigrate had inadvertently led him to Han Gureum.

Baek Heeseong, sensing the shift, steered the conversation in a new direction.

“I heard you attend Dongjak University. Is your home in this vicinity?”

“No, my home is in Yongsan.”

“Which part of Yongsan?”

“Ichon-dong.”

“Oh, Ichon-dong is quite convenient for Dongjak University, making the commute manageable. Let’s make sure we see each other more often.”

Seo Dowoon, unperturbed by the questions that felt akin to a personal background check, simply nodded. In the interim, Kim Ajun, having finished brewing, presented a freshly made americano to Seo Dowoon.

“Here you are, Lord. Your fresh coffee.”

“Thank you.”

As Seo Dowoon accepted the coffee, Kim Ajun turned to Han Gureum, who was now preparing to write a dungeon report.

“Do you want one too?”

“Yeah, I’d appreciate it.”

His voice was heavily laden with drowsiness. Seemingly oblivious to the gazes of others, he yawned wide enough to reveal his uvula, then blinked his eyes slowly.

“Are you very sleepy? Would you like to lean on my shoulder?”

“?”

“My shoulder, despite appearances, is quite soft and comfortable.”

Gureum’s eyes drifted to Seo Dowoon’s shoulder. His physique, clearly defined by the short-sleeved shirt, looked anything but ‘soft.’ Taut muscles, visible even to the naked eye, seemed poised to spring back if pressed—how could he describe them as soft? Was this a man utterly unaware of his own physical state?

After a brief moment of contemplation, Han Gureum simply pointed beside Seo Dowoon with a languid hand.

“The cushion is much softer than your shoulder. It’s right there, beside you.”

Seo Dowoon’s head followed the trajectory of the long, pale finger. At its tip rested a cushion beside his thigh, shaped unmistakably like Kio. It appeared quite old and considerably worn.

As Seo Dowoon silently regarded the cushion, Han Gureum offered another comment.

“Could you pass me that cushion?”

“Is my shoulder not good enough?”

“……”

Receiving a look that plainly conveyed, ‘Isn’t it obvious?’, Seo Dowoon picked up the cushion and gently placed it on Han Gureum’s thigh. His fingers, however, seemed reluctant to let go, still clutching the cushion tightly. Seeing this, Han Gureum simply lifted the cushion and nudged it back towards Seo Dowoon.

“If you wanted it, you only had to say. I’ll get you a new one instead of this old thing.”

A muffled chuckle escaped Kim Ajun.

As Han Gureum rose from his seat, Kim Ajun, who had been preparing hot chocolate behind him, let out a stifled burst of laughter. His shoulders shook subtly as he clapped a hand over his mouth, and at the sight, Baek Heeseong, too, began to snicker, his head bowed.

While the two men struggled to contain their mirth, Han Gureum calmly rummaged through a stack of boxes in the corner, returning with a brand-new cushion, still pristine in its plastic wrapping.

“It’s custom-made, so you won’t find it in stores. It’s rather cute, wouldn’t you agree?”

“……”

“There’s no need to refuse. You’re the Lord; surely I can offer you a mere cushion?”

“Hahaha!”

Finally, Kim Ajun’s laughter erupted, his head thrown back so far his uvula was visible. As if on cue, Baek Heeseong leaned over, pounding the desk with his fists as he, too, burst into uproarious laughter. Han Gureum, seemingly unfazed by their familiar antics, simply extended the new cushion towards Seo Dowoon.

Seo Dowoon remained momentarily speechless before accepting the fresh cushion.

‘He truly is… oblivious.’

One could usually discern from a person’s eyes whether they were feigning ignorance to cause embarrassment or genuinely lacked awareness. And Han Gureum’s golden eyes unequivocally conveyed that every action he took right now was utterly sincere.

‘He doesn’t acknowledge my presence at all.’

To Han Gureum, he was likely nothing more than the building owner.

Han Gureum’s recent behavior had not sat well with Seo Dowoon. His smile remained, yet his eyes lacked their former warmth. Nevertheless, one truth had solidified today: Seo Dowoon had developed a profound interest in Han Gureum. Information regarding Han Gureum as an individual had become ‘absolutely’ indispensable.

‘Since things have come to this, it would be best to cultivate this relationship carefully.’

After a brief glance at the cushion, Seo Dowoon handed the new one back to Han Gureum, who had resettled into his seat.

“Could I take this one instead?”

“That one is old and quite worn. The design has even started to peel.”

“It’s perfectly fine. I think I prefer this one.”

Seo Dowoon pressed the cushion on his lap with his hand, a faint smile touching his lips. While the cushion carried a faint, unwashed mustiness, Han Gureum’s distinct scent was potent enough to entirely mask it.

Though taking the robe seemed out of the question, he had a strange feeling that if he took the cushion, he might finally sleep soundly tonight.

He didn’t suffer from severe insomnia, but there were occasional periods when his mind would become unnaturally lucid, as if undergoing an awakening. During these times, he would be plagued by sleeplessness for days on end.

‘This time, I slept soundly.’

This periodic awakening effect typically lasted about a week, yet the entire month following his encounter with Han Gureum and acquiring the robe had passed without a single unusual occurrence.

It was unprecedented.

Had Han Gureum been a Guide or a healing-type Esper, Seo Dowoon would have readily attributed it to his abilities. Just to be sure, he had even searched for light-attribute abilities, but his efforts yielded no results.

Seo Dowoon ceased pressing the cushion and offered a faint smile.

Han Gureum, however, insisted again, asking if Seo Dowoon wouldn’t prefer the new one. While a moderately worn cushion wouldn’t have mattered, this particular one had been in use since the previous office, and its cleanliness bothered him. Just as he was about to swap it, Kim Ajun interjected, thrusting a cup of hot chocolate forward.

“Oh! So, the Lord knows our Kio is cute! That’s Gureum’s favorite dinosaur. That’s why it’s our guild mark, and he even spent his own money to make all sorts of merchandise… Oh! We have a lot more Kio merchandise; you should take it all while you’re at it.”

“You will? You’re a university student living alone, so you must need daily necessities.”

Han Gureum’s eyes sparkled at Kim Ajun’s words. He set his untouched hot chocolate down on the table and headed back to the stack of boxes in the corner. Baek Heeseong, who had been snickering, joined him.

Without a word being spoken, they pulled out new boxes from the corner, folded them, and began placing Kio-themed items inside, one by one. Ballpoint pens, notebooks, blankets, stickers, cups, even portable tissues.

“Should we give him this too?”

“I don’t think the size would fit.”

“True…”

Baek Heeseong and Kim Ajun debated whether to include pajamas but decided against it, realizing there probably wouldn’t be a suitable size for Seo Dowoon. Besides that, they collected everything from erasers to pencil cases and packed them into the box.

“That’s a lot, isn’t it?”

“…Indeed, quite a lot.”

Seo Dowoon gazed at the box before him, a serious thought crossing his mind. Was there truly another guild so utterly devoted to its emblem?