Cut Off

Do Jiwan’s eyes sharpened.

It was the look of someone reproaching me—he had taken time out of his busy schedule to meet me, and this was all I had to say?

He really was busy.

Even when I was hospitalized, he had often worked overtime beside my bed.

And now that dungeon raids had resumed, he must have been busier than ever.

I realized my mistake, but I couldn’t back down.

“But it’s unfair! Removing me over just one mistake—”

“That one mistake.”

“…….”

“You almost died because of it.”

Was it because I had dismissed my mistake as “just”?

Or was it something else?

Do Jiwan looked genuinely angry.

“But… but….”

I opened my mouth to argue, but nothing came out after that word.

A bad feeling kept rising.

Something told me this couldn’t end here, and in my anxiety I blurted out whatever came to mind.

“I… I have to work.”

Do Jiwan, who had been staring at me quietly, spoke.

“Yes. One mistake. It may be harsh to remove you from the team for a single error. That’s why I didn’t interfere with transferring you to another team.”

He was right.

He hadn’t fired me outright—only removed me from his team.

If I transferred elsewhere, I could still work.

But if I admitted that, I’d lose my last chance.

So I pressed my lips together stubbornly and said nothing.

Do Jiwan fell silent as well.

“…And if you want to earn money.”

After a long pause, he sighed.

“If you truly want to earn a lot, you’d be better off working as a healer rather than an assist. I don’t understand why you insist on assist work with that level of ability.”

His words sparked another thought in me.

He acknowledged my healing ability.

“Then… could I stay on this team as a healer instead of an assist?”

To an outsider, my fixation on his team might look strange.

But I didn’t have the luxury to care about that.

My mind was filled with only one thought—

I had to remain by Do Jiwan’s side.

But at my question, he only furrowed his brows.

After much deliberation, Jiwan concluded that letting one person’s actions sway his emotions was not his style.

So he acted coldly, trying to sever attachment.

He thought that if the person left his sight, they would leave his heart as well.

But perhaps because of his changed attitude, Jiho became distracted and caused an accident, nearly putting himself in danger.

Jiwan realized coldness alone wasn’t enough.

‘He needs to disappear from my sight entirely.’

So he removed him from the team.

As he had said, firing him over a single mistake seemed excessive, so he steered things toward a transfer instead.

He assumed Jiho could continue working and wouldn’t suffer financially.

When his own heart calmed down someday, he planned to forgive the debt as repayment for what had happened in the trap.

But unexpectedly, Jiho came to see him.

To ask to remain on the team.

‘Why?’

Jiwan couldn’t understand it.

He hadn’t fired him—just changed his team.

Was that worth coming here to beg about?

Was it because he wanted to stay with him?

They had spent a long time together in the trap.

Perhaps Jiho had grown attached.

The absurd thought made Jiwan’s heart pound, even as part of his mind cooled.

‘…What if Shin Jiho approached me with some ulterior motive?’

Jiwan had turned Domun Guild into a success, effectively becoming the crown prince of the Domun Group.

The dungeon materials generated by the guild fueled the entire conglomerate.

Even as he tried to calm himself, suspicion grew stronger the more Jiho insisted on staying.

He pushed the thought aside and instead offered what he believed was practical advice—

If you want money, become a healer.

He thought that would end it.

But Jiho’s response was even more absurd.

“…Do you understand what you’re saying?”

“I…”

“Unfortunately, my team’s positions are already filled.”

“…….”

“And even if your ability is remarkable, is there any reason for me to remove someone I’ve worked with for years just to bring you in?”

That was a lie.

A healer was an extra life.

The more, the better.

One healer versus two made a significant difference in safety.

Anyone in the hunter industry would know how absurd his statement was.

But Jiho, unfamiliar with the industry, wouldn’t realize the flaw.

As Jiwan expected, Jiho couldn’t answer.

He only looked distressed, as if knowing this wasn’t right but unable to argue.

‘…He doesn’t seem sent by another guild.’

Still, Jiwan concluded someone had sent Jiho with intent.

If not a guild, then somewhere else.

‘…Domun Group, perhaps.’

Though Jiwan had become the core of the group through the guild, many relatives resented him for being an illegitimate son.

They constantly sought weaknesses to exploit.

He had verified Jiho’s debt through investigation and the loan shark—it was real.

Perhaps his relatives had used that debt as bait to manipulate Jiho.

Once suspicion took root, every piece fit together neatly.

Though annoyed, Jiwan decided to end it simply by cutting him off.

“Very well. If you don’t want to transfer teams, I won’t force you.”

“Then…?”

“Resign. Our work involves lives. I have no need for employees who cannot separate personal feelings from work.”

At the word “resign,” Jiho looked stunned.

But Jiwan moved faster.

“I’ll transfer your severance pay immediately. I wish you well elsewhere.”

“Guild Leader! I’m sorry!”

Though Jiwan dismissed him, Jiho refused to leave, pale-faced.

In the end, security escorted him out.

“Guild Leader! Guild—! Hey! Do Jiwan!”

He shouted in anger at the end.

Regardless, Jiwan believed they would never meet again.

But contrary to his expectation, Jiho was nothing if not persistent.

I was fired.

The severance pay was actually deposited into my account.

I hadn’t even worked a full year, so the boss said I should be grateful to receive anything at all.

At the end, he apologized.

“I’m sorry. Even if I’m the boss, as a subcontractor I can’t ignore Domun Guild.”

That’s why he had no choice.

He even offered to introduce me to another assist company.

But I wasn’t interested in other assist jobs.

Only Do Jiwan was my goal.

‘I can’t give up like this.’

Abandoning the mission meant the world’s destruction.

I couldn’t separate from Jiwan.

‘I don’t understand why he’s acting like this.’

Calling it moodiness didn’t fit—Do Jiwan wasn’t someone prone to emotional swings.

I didn’t know what I had done to offend him.

So I sought someone who could think this through with me.

“What? You got fired?”

I needed someone who knew both of us and could view the situation objectively.

Jeongho hyung might side with me.

So that left only one person.

“That’s how it turned out.”

The loan shark.

“How did it turn out like that? Why didn’t he tell me?”

Judging by his tone, he wasn’t asking me.

There was only one person he could mean.

I perked up.

“Do Jiwan didn’t tell you I got fired?”

“He didn’t!”

“He didn’t say something like, ‘I don’t want to see Shin Jiho again, squeeze his money and make him taste hell’?”

“No!”

He was like alternating between a freezing bath and a hot spring.

Cold enough to fire me mercilessly—

yet he hadn’t told the loan shark about it.

Why?

‘What rhythm am I supposed to follow?’

I was smirking when suddenly my mood soured.

‘Don’t tell me he forgot about my debt because I’m not worth thinking about?’

The thought irritated me.

When I said that, the loan shark laughed incredulously.

“You crazy bastard. Do you think 2.3 billion won is pocket change? That’s the price of a house! And what kind of businessman forgets money? Use your brain.”

Clicking his tongue, he looked me up and down like I was hopeless.

He wasn’t wrong.

Realizing how foolish my thought had been, I quietly reflected on myself.