Chapter 69

Thirty minutes later, in the afternoon when lunchtime had long passed, two men were sitting facing each other in the restaurant.

"Your order is here."

The "Granny Soon-i's Sundae Soup" restaurant was located in a back alley slightly off a busy street. However, word had spread through the grapevine, so it was quite crowded during lunchtime and after work hours. Instead, as it was frequented by many office workers, the restaurant was empty except for those specific times. Today, customers came during that idle time.

The main menu of the restaurant was sundae (Korean blood sausage) haejang-guk (hangover soup), made by boiling old-fashioned sundae, which the owner learned from his grandmother, with plenty of sundae. In addition, the bone haejang-guk was also quite popular, and there was also a pork cutlet menu prepared for young employees who accidentally followed their department head.

The owner didn't recognize the identity of the customer who had his hat pulled down low. He looked to be in a very bad condition, as if he was sick somewhere, and the owner was also reluctant to look closely because of the intimidating presence of the black suit and large build sitting across from him. So he approached with his head fixed only on the tray.

Perhaps the brown-haired, slender man ordered the pork cutlet, and the large, dark man ordered the haejang-guk. He neatly placed the menus down and quickly returned to the kitchen. The table for the two was in the corner, separated from the kitchen by a partition, so both their appearance and voices were hidden.

The man sitting on the inner seat spoke softly.

"Quickly get that fried thing out of my sight..."

The words "because it feels like the alcohol I drank yesterday is dancing" were not added, but it was sufficiently expressed through his face.

A menu exchange took place at the table the owner had passed. As soon as the haejang-guk came in front of him, Soram buried his nose in the bowl. The spoon moved quickly back and forth, putting the broth into his mouth, like an animal dipping its face into a spring.

While Tae-un cut the pork cutlet into pieces, Soram soothed his stomach with the hot soup and shook the sticky rice to put it into the earthenware bowl without leaving a single grain. He added salted shrimp and seasoning sauce to the broth that had become slightly bland with the added rice to adjust the taste.

"I'm never drinking with you again."

Soram, who had barely regained his complexion by scooping about five large spoonfuls of rice soaked in the soup, declared.

"Isn't it better for you to never drink a single drop in your life?"

"Han Tae-un, now you're always being cheeky no matter what I say."

"...This is sincere though."

If someone saw them, they would think Soram drank a bottle of hard liquor and Tae-un drank two cans of mango beer. Isn't it a serious problem if a 1st-grade is physically much worse than a civilian in some aspects?

"I think it's roughly genetic. People in my family often caused trouble after drinking."

That family didn't give me anything good. Soram shook his head, which still had swelling.

Soram had a liver with an alcohol detoxification free pass, but he also had the recovery power of a 1st-grade. By the time he emptied a bowl of the earthenware pot, he had returned to his original state. He ordered additional broth and sticky rice from the kitchen and mixed the rice again.

"Ha... I feel a bit alive."

Tae-un, who had been staring at his returned complexion, opened his mouth.

"Jin So, Chief, no, Team Leader-nim."

"What's with that weird way of addressing me?"

"I can't call you by name or rank."

Soram's name was rather uncommon, and the title "Chief Jin" was more famous than his real name. Tae-un tried to find a way to call him and came up with a way of addressing him that he had never used before.

"Then don't call me anything and just say it."

"Hold out your spoon."

"Why?"

Tae-un placed a piece of pork cutlet on the spoon Soram held out.

"Your stomach is okay now, right?"

"..."

Soram glared at what was placed on the spoon. It was the thick middle part of the meat, with the sauce only half-coated, a delicious piece where both the crispiness and sweetness were alive. Even Soram, who said he didn't like fried food, had a visual that could immediately bring back his appetite once his stomach was settled.

However, Soram had sharp eyes.

"Are you trying to seduce me with just this?"

Then Tae-un made a rather dumbfounded expression.

"Would you be seduced by this kind of thing?"

"No!"

Soram roughly put the spoon in his mouth and chewed the pork cutlet. The glaring gaze was so sharp that even an Antarctic gangster would run away. Now it was completely Soram's usual appearance. Among his usual appearances, it was his look when Ayoung wasn't around.

"That's a relief. The owner almost had to fry all the remaining pork cutlets in the restaurant."

"..."

Tae-un asked in his usual low voice.

"Do you remember what happened yesterday?"

"...I guess it wasn't a dream after all."

"Probably."

"Han Tae-un, that, you to me."

"That's right. Say what you want comfortably."

"...Then what should I do? No, it sounds a bit weird... I'm asking sincerely because this is the first time for me. What do you want me to do?"

"I didn't intend to confess my feelings, I brought it up to tell you that the reason I avoided you wasn't because I disliked you. As I said yesterday, I'll sort it out on my own, so just give me some time."

"..."

Soram stared at Tae-un. The pork cutlet in front of him remained almost untouched. Moreover, their gazes oddly didn't meet. The one who had been half-dead from a hangover and didn't catch his eye until a little while ago started to become noticeable. The spoon that had been tapping with his front teeth was placed on the earthenware pot.

"But do you really like me? Are you sure it's not a misunderstanding? There's also something called the suspension bridge effect."

"It's probably the shaky bridge effect."

"Anyway, I'm asking if it's a misunderstanding because of the dungeon."

"I liked you even before going to the Bukhansan dungeon."

"...How can you say such things without any change in expression?"

"If I show a change in expression, you'll feel uncomfortable."

"..."

Soram, with his arms crossed, looked at him.

"Your taste is really unique."

"I know that too."

Soram furrowed his eyebrows.

"...But why do I feel like I'm being cursed at?"

"..."

* * *

From the next day, Han Tae-un returned exactly the same as before. During work hours, he used honorifics, and otherwise, he spoke casually, and he was still blunt and occasionally made retorts to Soram's cheekiness. In fact, it was as if nothing had changed from usual, to the point where it felt like he might have been drunk and dreaming.

The weekend arrived. On weekends, no one goes to the office except for the hunters on duty. However, if a dispatch signal comes during the break, they have to put on a suit and rush to the scene immediately.

Still, there was an aspect of considering the days off, so for those who were not on duty, at most only one or two assignments were given.

Soram, who finally had a day off, woke up after sleeping through the night and this time tried to take a morning nap in the living room where the sunlight was gently coming in. When sleeping at night, it was good to be buried in a place tightly surrounded on all sides, but when the sun was up, it was also nice to lie down in a wide space and take a light nap.

He came out with a blanket and pillow tucked under both armpits, but Soram's gaze fell on the door of the next room before the sunny spot.

He tried not to care as Han Tae-un said, but he couldn't help but have a complicated mind when he saw that door.

Soram evaluated Han Tae-un as a truly flawless man objectively, excluding... no, actually including his stiff personality. Because he lacked nothing in appearance, ability, and furthermore, in various factors such as educational background.

He must have been quite popular before, and there must have been many people who had a favorable attitude towards him. But how did he... um... feel something for himself, who was living a mess, although not as bad as in his previous life?

Honestly, he couldn't understand at all. Soram saw someone who said they liked him in that... sense for the first time across all his lives. In his long years, there was no dating or anything similar, and he had no time to think about relationships. In his first life, when he was swayed by his family, he almost had an arranged marriage, but it ended with his death.

Before he knew it, he was staring blankly at the broken door. On weekday mornings, that door would be knocked on, either from Han Tae-un's direction or from his own direction. Today, being a weekend, it was quiet without the sound of an alarm leaking out or the sound of knocking.

...Since Han Tae-un said he would take care of it himself, let's just go back to sleep.

Soram yawned languidly and buried his head in the fluffy pillow. Although it was late spring, just before summer was approaching, he enjoyed the comfort of being submerged in the blanket with the air conditioner turned on low. However, his lazily opened eyes kept glancing in that direction once in a while. Towards the door that he hadn't even paid attention to before Han Tae-un came.

Knock knock.

Now I'm even hearing things.

Knock knock.

"Jin Soram."

"Huh?"

"I'm opening it for a moment."

The broken door slid open to the side. Tae-un appeared from there. Seeing Soram, who had been lying down and awkwardly got up, Tae-un stopped.

"Are you going to sleep there?"

"No... I was just lying down. I'm not sleeping."

"It'll be a bit noisy for a moment. If it bothers you, stay inside. It'll be over soon."

Tae-un put something down on the floor with a thud. Then he sat down on the floor, laying down the broken door. Unfamiliar clicking sounds were heard, and when he approached, Tae-un was rummaging through the toolbox he had brought.

He picked up several nails and held them against the hinge, checking for the right size. Next, he took out a drill and started hammering in the nails. His posture with his elbows raised looked very skilled. Something proceeded in a place Soram couldn't see, making creaking sounds.

Soram squatted down next to the door. Each time Tae-un moved the drill, the torn-off hinge was fixed to the door. He glanced at Soram, who had come to his side, and placed the nail on the next hole.

Whirr, whirr.

"You're quite skilled."

"...Yeah."

"Have you done it before?"

"I learned by watching my father do it at home. He fixed things like sheds and barns himself."

Before he knew it, he had finished nailing the upper hinge and had to nail the lower hinge of the door. Soram moved with short steps to avoid the door being pushed out. It was a position slightly closer to Tae-un than a little while ago.

"Jin Soram."

"What?"

"Go over there because you're distracting me. I'll finish it well on my own."

"What did I do?"

"...Is that short one your only pajamas?"

"I just wear whatever comfortable clothes I grab."

Soram, who was wearing a plain short-sleeved t-shirt and shorts since it was summer, made a "what did I do" expression again and looked at himself.

When Soram didn't move, Tae-un just continued the work. He put two nails of the same size in his mouth and moved the drill again. Whirr, whirr, while the sound was going back and forth, Soram, who had been staring at him, said,

"Han Tae-un."

"What?"

"I have something to ask."

Instead of answering, Tae-un looked at Soram as if telling him to speak, then lowered his gaze back to the door.

"Since when did you like me?"

However, he couldn't help but pause the drill again upon hearing the question. His lips moved up and down, and he took out the nails he had been holding in his mouth.

"Aren't you unfazed at all?"

"I'm not unfazed, that's why I'm asking."

"Not that. If you're like this, I'll misunderstand."

"What?"

"That there's a chance."

During the short silence, the whirring sound also stopped for a moment, and there was no clattering sound as he had already found the nails he wanted.