Chapter 5

Black hair and a white scarf. The iconic mask that he knew so well.

Isn’t this a violation of the rights of publicity?

The character on the cover was indubitably the hunter, J—Uijae Cha. Should I call this a violation of personality rights or the mask copyright? They can’t use me however they want just because I’m dead.

This book was not the only place J appeared. Everyone seemed to think anyone could use J as a concept since he was dead. Or perhaps they just thought his inclusion was useful to explain the era after the day of the fissure. Anyhow, J appeared in media almost as much as Jungbin.

Uijae brushed it off when he saw J appear on TV or things like that, but it was weirder to see J in print. Maybe I should have established some sort of foundation to commemorate awakening as a class-S to earn royalties.

After expressing enough resentment, Uijae waved Haeun toward the cash register.

“That’ll be 30,000 won.”

That’s enough for two bowls of hangover soup.

Uijae took out his wallet and paid in cash with a neutral expression, then left the bookstore hand in hand with Haeun.

The cost of living had skyrocketed after the Day of the Fissure. The grandma’s hangover soup used to go for seven thousand won, but she now charged fifteen thousand to cover the higher material costs. Even that was quite cheap for the neighborhood. Perhaps that was why they were constantly swarmed with hunters... Even though they have money, Uijae thought sardonically.

“Uncle.”

Uijae was broken out of his reverie. “Hmm?”

Haeun pointed at Uijae’s other hand. “I wanna carry it.”

One book wasn’t too heavy for a child to carry, so he handed it to her. Haeun let go of her uncle’s hand and hugged the book to her chest. She was delighted to finally have something she had wanted.

“Where are we going now?”

“Where else? Uncle’s going to drop you off at home, then get ready for the dinner rush.”

“Hmph. So boring,” Haeun retorted without hesitation. She pouted.

Uijae shrugged. There was nothing he could do, even if she clearly wanted to go to the restaurant with him.

“There’s too much to prepare for dinner. I’ll buy you ice cream instead. You can eat it with Grandma.”

“Fine.”

He patted her head as she reluctantly nodded. They walked side by side. Uijae thought it was adorable how Haeun clung right to his side despite her pouting. He put his hand on her small shoulder.

* * *

Part-timer Uijae Cha—not the hunter, J—had to make hangover soup for the hunters again today. The daily routine of the hangover soup restaurant was as follows:

The restaurant opens at 6 a.m. Hunters who had partied for five rounds through the night would come to eat hangover soup as their sixth.

Other hunters who were weary from working all night would press themselves against the door, then scurry in to eat. The customers at this hour were essentially like zombies. They ordered like so:

“Tuh... ples...”

“Two hangover soups coming right up.”

That was more or less how it was. Uijae wondered if he could claim zombie interpretation as his third job.

Once the zombie customers finished eating and crawled away, more ordinary customers arrived. Most were there for breakfast before work. They were tired too, but still quite refined compared to the earlier crowd.

Then, it was lunchtime from 11:30 a.m. to 2 p.m. The restaurant’s turnover rate was the best at this time of day. Eight out of ten customers were hunters. They flowed in and out like the water.

In the afternoon, some hunters would receive an urgent call and race out before they had even finished eating. The hunters sitting around looked on with sympathy. The sad hunter who was forced to leave their precious hangover soup behind might be them tomorrow.

Once the lunch rush was over, Uijae put out the sign that signified that it was prep time. A break for the restaurant was imperative when its main clientele was hunters. Uijae used this time to pick Haeun up from school, wash the dishes, or prep the ingredients for dinner.

Lastly, dinnertime was from 5 to 10 p.m. Lunch was busy, but dinnertime was even busier. It was mostly the same as the previous mealtimes, except that the hunters always pleaded with him for one more bottle of soju, which was no easy feat to deal with.

He sighed when he saw them hide empty bottles just to get one more. They weren’t very creative. They only ever put the empty bottle in their inventory.

Drinks that weren’t made especially for the awakened didn’t even get them drunk. Uijae didn’t understand why they asked for soju anyway. It was a mystery to him.

“Phew...”

It was 10:15 p.m. The last customer who had insisted on staying was finally chased away with a stainless steel ladle. The restaurant was quiet, as if it had never been crowded. Uijae took a moment to stop clearing the tables and stretch. He sighed.

Another hard day of work.

He wiped the tables, swept the floor, and washed the dishes. He picked up a basket of garlic in the kitchen, took it to the table next to the counter, and sat down. Opening and closing shifts naturally went to him since he stayed in the small warehouse studio attached to the restaurant.

The papery garlic skin rustled. As Uijae peeled garlic cloves with steady hands, he had a sudden thought.

I could keep living like this, and it wouldn’t be bad.

He didn’t have to race around at every call from the bureau. He didn’t have to wrestle against monsters. He could sit here and peel garlic. It was an utterly lavish way to live.

Maybe this is the life I always wanted.

The most recent worry in his relatively peaceful life was Grandma’s health. Uijae had taken care of most of the restaurant work because it had become harder for her to walk in the past month.

She needs to get examined at the hospital at some point... What if she needs surgery?

Uijae sighed. The hangover soup restaurant was so busy that closing the shop for even one day wasn’t easy. The bigger dilemma would be finding the funds for surgery.

J had lived in abundance, never worrying about money. Uijae Cha did not. Once he had decided to live a quiet life, he donated all his money to the West Sea Fissure Foundation. Even with the possible addition of the funds he contributed monthly, it was far from enough to pay for any surgery.

He furrowed his brow, lost in thought as he peeled garlic.

Worst-case scenario, I could sneak into the dungeons and get something to sell.

Dungeon by-products usually sold quite well and were lucrative enough to help pay for surgery. Uijae contemplated where he would go and how when the phone at the counter rang. It was an unusual time for a call.

Uijae pressed the phone between his ear and shoulder and continued to peel garlic. “Hello? This is the hangover soup restaurant.”

They often received calls asking if they did delivery. He would probably just have to reply that business hours were over and they didn’t do delivery. But the unexpected voice that he heard across the line made him pause.

“What do I do now, Uijae...?”

“Grandma?”

Grandma’s voice shook slightly. Something was not right.

Uijae held his breath and waited for her to go on. Soon, he heard her voice again.

“Haeun’s disappeared.”

“What? Haeun is gone?” Taken aback, Uijae readjusted the phone against his ear.

Grandma spoke in a rush, as if she found it hard to be calm. “Haeun’s gone off somewhere! She’s not here. What do we do? I’ve no idea when she even left. She can’t be alone. The world is dangerous now.”

Uijae glanced at the clock. It was 10:20 p.m., far too late for an elementary school student to be roaming about. His imagination leaped to terrible conclusions, but he did his best to erase them from his head.

“I’ll call the police first,” Uijae said in a light voice. He put down his knife and garlic. “I’ll go out and look for her too. Please just rest for now. I’m sure she’s fine.”

Despite his performance, Grandma sounded worried. “Ohh... Are you sure?”

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

“Take care,” Grandma said. “I doubt that lass Haeun went far. Don’t stay out too late either, Uijae. Come home soon. Understand me?”

“I know,” Uijae agreed. “I’ll call you soon.”

When he hung up, he recalled how happy Haeun had looked after buying the book.

Uijae got ready to leave. He appeared grim despite his light voice on the phone. When he said she was fine, it was also to reassure himself.

Uijae put on a mask, strode toward the door, and went outside. He locked the door and turned the red business sign to closed.

The night air was cold.