No Discharge

‘Why?’

Why is Do Jiwan listening to my test results with me?

I was still confused when the doctor began explaining to him as if it were only natural.

“Hmm… Aside from mild malnutrition symptoms, there are no abnormalities.”

“…Malnutrition?”

Jiwan looked at me in surprise.

Then, as if something clicked, he nodded seriously.

‘What the hell? What are you understanding?’

Do I look like I can’t even feed myself?

I felt annoyed.

At the word malnutrition, Jiwan’s expression shifted as if he had caught leverage.

“You heard him. Your body isn’t fine.”

In other words—don’t even think about discharge.

But I absolutely could not accept that.

“No, I’m really fine…”

Jiwan silently looked between me and the doctor.

As if asking whether I thought I knew better than a specialist.

“Forget ‘I feel fine.’ What’s the real reason you’re trying so hard to leave?”

“I… I need to work.”

The work I meant was sticking close to him.

But to him, it would sound like assistant duties.

He stared at me thoughtfully.

“Work…”

“…Yes.”

“Because you need to earn a lot of money?”

“…Ah, yes! That’s right.”

In truth, I just wanted to follow him around.

But bringing that up again would only reopen past mistakes.

I added that without me, my teammates would have to divide my workload.

Jiwan listened quietly, then said,

“Don’t worry about that. The dungeon is cleared. We haven’t scheduled a new one yet.”

They were handling backlogged matters after his disappearance.

So there was no urgent dungeon to prepare for.

His calm reassurance irritated me.

‘This doesn’t work, that doesn’t work… I’m useless either way.’

Everything was because of him.

My desire to leave—and my inability to.

At some point, the doctor slipped out.

It was just Jiwan and me again.

He wouldn’t back down about my recovery.

And I refused to retreat from discharge.

“Why are you doing this? It’s a waste.”

“A waste?”

“Yes. Even if there’s malnutrition, I feel fine.”

It would heal in time.

Jiwan frowned.

“That’s ridiculous.”

“….”

“If I’m willing to spend money on you, how is that a waste?”

He was dead serious.

“That won’t do. No dungeon raids until you recover.”

“What?”

“You’ll receive compensation while hospitalized. Your teammates will be temporarily assigned to other squads.”

“No—”

That’s not what I want!

But before I could argue further, he added,

“And I can’t leave you alone. You might try to sneak out. I’ll come every day and keep watch.”

“Deal.”

Every day?

Then it was perfect.

Just moments ago I had been desperate to leave.

Now I accepted immediately.

Jiwan looked at me like I was incomprehensible, then nodded.

Curious, I asked how long he would stay each day.

“…I’ll just work from here until you’re discharged.”

This was Domun Group’s hospital.

And Domun Group belonged to him.

If the owner wanted to work from here, who would object?

Smiling in satisfaction, something suddenly occurred to me.

“By the way… why are you speaking informally to me?”

“….”

“I mean—not that I’m offended.”

Under his gaze, I shrank and muttered.

He had always insisted on boundaries.

Why now?

He didn’t answer.

And I didn’t press.

When Jiwan opened his eyes, he was in a hospital.

He immediately pulled the IV needle from his hand.

Blood dripped from the puncture wound.

He didn’t care.

“Guild Master!”

“Where is he?”

“Pardon?”

The secretary hesitated.

‘Is he looking for his phone?’

He handed it over nervously.

Jiwan’s gaze turned cold.

“Him… where is he?”

“…Who?”

“…Shin Jiho. Where is he?”

The secretary froze.

“Ah… the assistant?”

“….”

“He’s admitted downstairs in a general ward— Guild Master!”

Jiwan stood before the sentence finished.

He swayed briefly, then steadied himself.

He walked quickly downstairs.

“Which room?”

“I’m not sure…”

Clicking his tongue, Jiwan strode down the corridor.

Soon he found the six-bed ward with Jiho’s name.

Inside, all eyes widened at his entrance.

Jiwan ignored them.

He found Jiho’s bed and sat beside it.

His expression was so grim that the room fell silent.

“Why is he lying down?”

“…Pardon?”

“He fainted,” the secretary stammered.

“So why hasn’t he woken up?”

“…How would I know?”

“Call the doctor.”

Soon a doctor arrived.

“There’s no issue. Aside from mild malnutrition, results are clean.”

“Then why isn’t he awake?”

“Probably fatigue…”

“We entered together and came out together. Why am I awake and he isn’t?”

Sweat beaded on the doctor’s forehead.

“Well… Guild Master, you are S-rank. Patient Shin Jiho is D-rank.”

“….”

“There’s a difference in stamina and recovery affected by abilities.”

Jiwan finally accepted this.

He dismissed the doctor.

Looking at Jiho sleeping peacefully, his expression darkened.

‘So weak…’

Perhaps because they had rolled through the dungeon trap together, Jiwan found himself unusually concerned.

He had never worried over someone else like this before.

Eventually, calls from the company began flooding in.

Even then, Jiwan stayed by Jiho’s side.

But not forever.

Finally, he stood.

“Move Shin Jiho to a private room.”

The secretary hesitated.

Jiho wasn’t even a full Domun Guild member.

There was no reason for Jiwan to spend a single cent on him.

Still, he nodded.

Jiwan paused.

“And…”

“Yes?”

“Since he couldn’t work due to unavoidable circumstances, pay him his hourly rate. Label it compensation.”

“…To whom?”

Jiwan gave him a look.

Of course it was for Jiho.

The secretary was baffled.

‘Insurance will already cover this…’

Wasn’t that what insurance was for?