Emptiness and Retrospect

Light suddenly flooded into the pitch-black room.

At the touch of someone throwing the blackout curtains wide open, Lee Do-han woke from his light sleep and furrowed his brows.

Having caught less than an hour of piecemeal sleep on the sofa, his head was still throbbing.

He felt like he was going crazy from the rampaging pain.

Out of habit, Lee Do-han rumbled through his coat, found his case, and placed a cigarette between his lips.

A dark shadow approached his side and flicked a lighter to life.

With the sound of a deep inhale, smoke began to drift up into the empty air.

Lee Do-han massaged his brow wearily and asked.

“What time is it now?”

“There are 20 minutes left until the executive board meeting. If you want to familiarize yourself with the agenda before entering, you should probably get up now. There is already a lot of talk from the high seats regarding Director Choi’s retention in this recent personnel reorganization. If you happen to clash with the other executives over Director Choi’s matter…”

“Secretary Ha. Have you ever seen me do something that gives them leverage?”

“…That is not what I meant.”

“Then why are you offering unsolicited advice, which you don’t usually do? Or are you staging a protest right now to wake me up?”

Lee Do-han let out a hollow laugh, leaned halfway forward, and pulled over the ashtray sitting at the edge of the table.

He flicked the ash into it and, for a while, silently smoked the narcotic analgesic.

The cigarette, which compressed all kinds of psychotropic painkillers, quickly burned down in the man’s hand.

“I heard the executives are pushing Mutant Park Jin-hyuk lately. What do you think, Secretary Ha?”

“I believe Park Jin-hyuk will not be able to ease the executives’ anxiety.”

“A Mutant who responds well to detox and listens obediently should be better than me, who is practically living on borrowed time. Why is that?”

“I believe there is no Mutant in the Ehwa Guild who can replace you, Director. Sincerely.”

At those words, Lee Do-han covered his eyes and let out a sigh.

Secretary Ha Jae-hoon hesitated for a moment, but as his boss closed his eyes tightly as if telling him to keep going, he opened his mouth again.

“You already know the reason why the executives are anxious, don’t you? In my opinion, Director, you should at least stop by the Center more periodically to receive detox. To squash the controversy, that is the best method.”

“That would only be a temporary fix. Does going all the way to the Center to get a detox that doesn’t even work solve anything in the long run?”

“It has been ten years since you established and contributed to growing the Ehwa Guild. You first founded it at the age of 19, and you expanded its size like this while never shying away from dirty work on the field. As the guild grew larger, the family grew bigger too. Just last year, Ehwa Guild placed its name for the first time in the ranks of the conglomerate tier within the hunter industry designated by the government.”

“…Keep talking.”

“Because you have achieved so much, people can’t help but wish for smooth sailing. The fact that Ehwa Guild possesses one of the only three SS-class Mutants in the country is highly symbolic. And you are known to the public as a self-made director who accomplished an incredible amount. As you know, it is extremely unprecedented for a Class-C Mutant like you to become an SS-class Mutant.”

Lee Do-han let out a deflating laugh.

However, most of it consisted of words he could not deny.

Lee Do-han, a Mutant who received a C-class evaluation at the age of 18, shocked the world ten years later with an unprecedented rank-up evaluation.

The Ehwa Guild was his symbol, built through his blood and sweat, and a presence akin to the very skeleton that formed the hunter industry.

Because of that, many acknowledged that the hunter industry was able to develop and receive the spotlight.

“The executives, and furthermore, all the employees belonging to the Ehwa Guild, wish for the current Ehwa Guild to remain going strong. Even if it’s just a rumor, people sometimes want to believe what is visible to the eye. If so, which side is the one that needs to take a step back here?”

“That question sounds like it’s driven by your personal ambition, Secretary Ha.”

“There is a bit of that too, of course.”

“I understand what you mean.”

It surely meant he shouldn’t create matters that fuel anxiety.

Lee Do-han’s solid presence became the foundation that solidified the Ehwa Guild, but conversely, his absence or downfall became the underlying cause that triggered division.

Lee Do-han was a Mutant on whom a Guide’s ‘detox’ did not work, and people considered that to be his flaw.

It wasn’t that the detox hadn’t worked on him from the very beginning.

Back when he was a C-class, he just couldn’t receive it, but whenever he did, the detox would circulate.

There was no specific turning point where the detox stopped working.

It grew gradually faint, and then, from a certain day onward, it cut off forever like a total blackout.

A Guide’s treatment no longer brought stability to him.

Only grueling pain remained as a byproduct that chased him around.

“There are 15 minutes left. Here are the things you need to familiarize yourself with before that.”

Finishing his sentence, Ha Jae-hoon pulled the documents out of the paper envelope he held in his hand and placed them on the table.

Lee Do-han crushed the remaining piece of his burning cigarette into the ashtray until no trace was left, then picked up the documents.

“How long has it been since I last went to the Center?”

“Twenty days ago, stopping by on your way back from field duties was the last time.”

“Schedule an appointment. Let’s wrap up this week’s executive meeting and drop by once.”

“Yes, sir.”

Answering firmly, Ha Jae-hoon straightened his posture.

Then, realizing something, he let out a sigh and looked at Lee Do-han.

It was because his boss had not mentioned the administration of the narcotic analgesic he usually sought whenever he opened his eyes.

“Are you alright? Even without injecting the medication?”

Lee Do-han merely answered half-heartedly without taking his eyes off the documents.

“I had a dream after a long time.”

“If it’s a dream… do you mean the child?”

The hand of Lee Do-han, who was flipping through the documents, seemed to halt for a brief moment.

Letting out a sigh, he pressed his brow as if exhausted.

“For some reason, I just can’t seem to forget him. I’m curious about how big he’s grown by now, and I want to ask how he’s been doing. Since that’s impossible, I suppose I keep seeing him even in my dreams.”

“I am sorry. Still… didn’t good things always happen whenever you had that dream?”

“Right… that’s true. Even without knowing how I truly feel inside.”

A helpless laugh leaked past Lee Do-han’s lips.

Following that, inside the silence, only the rustle, rustle sound of documents flipping over returned continuously.

By the time Lee Do-han finished his review, exactly 15 minutes had passed.

“Let’s go, time for the meeting.”

Ha Jae-hoon silently lowered his head once and followed behind him.

The small, pale child with delicate features he had seen 11 years ago.

Lee Do-han had still not let go of that body scent, searching for the child amidst a hollow thirst.

Ever since innocent lives vanished after the seven-vehicle gate pileup accident that occurred 10 years ago, Lee Do-han has been spending perilous days in pain, unable to catch a deep sleep for a long duration of 10 years.

In Ha Jae-hoon’s eyes, that was nothing more than a lump of obsession he couldn’t abandon.

Lee Do-han must also know that lingering regrets are things that tear apart after tangling together.

Even so, the reason he couldn’t give up was probably because the appearance of the child, who visited abruptly like this, swallowed up all the pain he had endured.

On the days he had that dream, Lee Do-han at least stayed away from the painkillers.

Because with a brain turned mushy by drugs, he wouldn’t be able to remember the child for long.

Trees with bare, skeletal branches flashed past the window.

The sky, where faint snow fluttered down, was bluish, and the streets were dyed pure white with snow that hadn’t yet melted.

Inside the warm car, Lee Do-han sat in the back seat and checked his schedule on a tablet.

“Secretary Ha, what happened to the coordination of the gate raid personnel this morning?”

“The field manager notified us that they will replace the insufficient personnel with civilian hunters. The raid personnel will consist of our Ehwa Guild and the Jinseung Guild from the Gyeonggi-do side moving together, with eight people deployed from each side.”

“Director Seo seems unable to give up on this gate. Even so, does it make sense to think about lining his pockets by doing a joint raid on a gate that isn’t even exclusive but split up? If he can’t get the ownership rights, he should just give it up.”

“Since Director Seo is connected with iron and steel companies, he threw a tantrum saying he couldn’t give up on iron ore-related gates. Iron and steel are good for branching out into the weapons business, so in the end, it will benefit Ehwa Guild as well. The atmosphere of the meeting was also toward gaining shares while tolerating the joint raid.”

Lee Do-han furrowed his brows and then examined the list of civilian hunters displayed on one side of the screen.

There were a total of ten profiles of civilian hunters sent from the subcontractor side.

However, one of them was processed in black and white.

In this case, it meant the person had taken a leave of absence or retired due to sudden death or injury.

Lee Do-han stared intently at the black-and-white profile, then tapped the screen lightly to look at the civilian hunter’s name and history.

A gaze that looked solid, felt through the pitch-black hair stamped inside the photo.

Though it was an indifferent mouth line and a gaze that looked as if glaring at the opponent, a somehow soft air could also be glimpsed.

The man had a youthful face for a civilian hunter, yet on the other hand, he exuded a neat impression.

Among the rugged people, he was uniquely tidy.

Name, Lee Tae-eon. Age, 23 years old. Career as a civilian hunter, 5 years.

From the age of 18, under the status of a regular civilian rather than a Mutant, he had been crossing back and forth through dangerous combat zones.

“There’s a fellow who took a leave of absence.”

“Ah… I am sorry. It seems that was not the final revised profile. He was originally a mercenary hired by the subcontractor side, but they said he met with an accident two days ago. Another civilian hunter will be deployed instead.”

Hearing up to that point, Lee Do-han furrowed his brows at a pain that felt like an awl piercing through his head.

The pain that arrived without fail began to gnaw at his brain once again.

“Secretary Ha, I’m sorry, but let’s smoke a cigarette.”

“Yes, sir.”

Finding a psychotropic cigarette from his coat and lighting it, Lee Do-han opened the window slightly and exhaled the smoke.

While he smoothed the pain by smoking cigarettes repeatedly, Ha Jae-hoon hesitated while looking at Lee Do-han through the rearview mirror.

And when he flicked the cigarette into the makeshift ashtray, he opened his mouth.