Chapter 4

Black hair and a white scarf. The only mask that couldn’t possibly be mistaken for anyone else.

‘Isn’t this an invasion of privacy?’

The character drawn here was unmistakably Hunter J, Cha Eui-jae himself. Should he call this a violation of his image rights, or infringement of the mask’s copyright? Just because he’s presumed dead, isn’t it too reckless to use his likeness so freely?

In fact, this wasn’t the only book where J appeared. Whether it was because people thought it was okay to use J’s name since he was dead, or because he was convenient to include when explaining the post-Day of the Rift era, J appeared in all sorts of media just as often as Jung Bin.

Seeing himself on TV didn’t bother him much, but seeing it printed like this felt strangely unsettling. Maybe he should have created a foundation with the royalties as a commemoration of his S-grade awakening. Cha Eui-jae, feeling uneasy, smacked his lips and gestured to Park Ha-eun to head to the counter.

“That’ll be thirty thousand won.”

‘The price of two bowls of hangover soup.’

Cha Eui-jae nonchalantly pulled out cash from his wallet, paid, and with the book in one hand and holding Park Ha-eun’s hand in the other, left the bookstore.

Since the Day of the Rift, prices had soared through the roof. Even the hangover soup from the grandmother’s old restaurant, which used to be seven thousand won, had risen to fifteen thousand won due to the increase in the cost of ingredients. And that was considered cheap compared to the prices in the area. Perhaps that’s why so many Hunters came by… despite having plenty of money.

“Uncle.”

“Hmm?”

The sudden call snapped Cha Eui-jae out of his thoughts. Park Ha-eun pointed at the book in Cha Eui-jae’s other hand.

“I want to carry the book.”

Since the book wasn’t too heavy for a child, he handed it over willingly. Park Ha-eun let go of her uncle’s hand and cradled the book in her arms with both hands. She seemed thrilled to have something she wanted.

“Where are we going now?”

“Going somewhere? I’m going to take you home and then head to the restaurant to prepare for the evening shift.”

“That’s boring.”

Park Ha-eun pouted at his unhesitating reply, clearly wanting to go to the restaurant with him. Cha Eui-jae shrugged, showing there was no choice.

“There’s a lot to prepare for the evening. I’ll buy you ice cream, so go home and eat it with grandma.”

“..Okay.”

He patted her round head as she reluctantly nodded, and they walked side by side. Despite everything, Cha Eui-jae found Park Ha-eun, who clung close to him, adorably cute, so he placed his hand on her small shoulder.

***

Today, as usual, Cha Eui-jae, not Hunter J, had to cook hangover soup for the Hunters. The routine at the hangover soup restaurant went as follows;

At 6 a.m., the restaurant opened. Hunters, who had gone on a binge drinking spree up to the fifth round, came for a sixth round at the hangover soup restaurant, or those drenched in overtime work clung to the door like barnacles

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and hurriedly found seats. Customers at this hour were mostly zombies. Their orders were usually something like,

“Uhm… friend?”

“Yes, two bowls of hangover soup.”

Hearing this repeatedly, Cha Eui-jae considered becoming a zombie interpreter as his third job.

After the zombies staggered out, more normal customers began to arrive. Most of them came for breakfast before going to work, carrying their fatigue with them, but they were at least better than the zombies.

Then came lunchtime, from 11:30 a.m. to 2 p.m. It was the busiest time for the restaurant. Customers, mostly Hunters, came in waves, filling the place and then leaving just as quickly.

Sometimes, during this period, a Hunter would receive an emergency call and run out in the middle of their meal, prompting sympathetic glances from other Hunters. Watching a pitiful Hunter leave their beloved hangover soup behind, they knew it could be them the next day.

After the chaotic lunchtime ended, Cha Eui-jae would put up a sign indicating the preparation time for ingredients. A break time was essential to run the business catering to the hearty appetites of Hunters. During this time, he would pick up Park Ha-eun from school, do the piled-up dishes, and prepare ingredients for the evening shift.

Finally, from 5 p.m. to 10 p.m. was the evening shift. Though lunch was hectic, the hangover soup restaurant was even busier in the evening. Aside from the similarities to lunchtime, dealing with Hunters demanding another bottle of soju was particularly bothersome.

Seeing them hide empty bottles to drink more made him sigh. Their methods were always the same— putting bottles in their inventory. Despite not getting drunk on non-special alcohol, they still ordered soju. Cha Eui-jae couldn’t understand their psychology.

“Ahh…”

Now, at 10:20 p.m., having chased out the last lingering customer with a stainless steel ladle, the restaurant returned to its usual quiet. Stretching his back while cleaning the tables, Cha Eui-jae sighed deeply. Another hard day’s work was done.

After cleaning the tables, sweeping the floor, and washing the dishes, he grabbed a basket of garlic from the kitchen corner and sat at a table next to the counter. Living in the storage-cum-single room attached to the hangover soup restaurant, closing and opening the shop naturally fell to him.

As he skillfully peeled the garlic, Cha Eui-jae thought,

‘Living like this isn’t so bad.’

Not having to be summoned by the management bureau or wrestle with monsters, just sitting and peeling garlic— this was luxury. Maybe this was the life he had always wanted.

His recent concern was the grandmother’s leg health. She had been struggling with mobility lately, so Cha Eui-jae had taken on most of the restaurant’s work. He needed to take her to the hospital, but what if she needed surgery?

Cha Eui-jae sighed deeply. Closing the restaurant for a day was difficult due to its busy nature, and affording the surgery was a bigger problem. Unlike J, who lived without financial worries, Cha Eui-jae didn’t. After deciding to live quietly, he donated all his money to the West Sea Rift Foundation. Even with the monthly support payments, it was far from enough for surgery.

He frowned, lost in thought as he peeled the garlic.

‘If worse comes to worst, I should secretly raid a dungeon and sell some loot.’

Dungeon spoils fetched good prices and might help cover the surgery costs. As he pondered how to proceed, the phone at the counter unexpectedly rang. Cha Eui-jae picked up the receiver while continuing to peel garlic.

“Hello, this is the hangover soup restaurant.”

He was ready to say the restaurant was closed and they didn’t do deliveries, but the unexpected voice on the other end made his fingers stop.

—How should I put it, Eui-jae…

“Grandma?”

It was grandmother. Her voice trembled slightly, something felt off. Cha Eui-jae held his breath, waiting for her next words. After a moment, she spoke.

—Ha-eun is missing.

“What? Ha-eun is missing?”

Cha Eui-jae, flustered, adjusted his grip on the receiver. Grandmother, struggling to calm herself, continued urgently.

—Ha-eun is gone. I don’t know when she left without me noticing. The world is so dangerous these days, and she went out alone…

Cha Eui-jae glanced at the clock. 10:20 p.m. It was too late for a young child to be out alone. He pushed away the dark thoughts creeping into his mind.

“I’ll contact the police first. I’ll also go out and look for her, so please try to stay calm. I’m sure everything will be okay.”

Cha Eui-jae deliberately spoke cheerfully as he set down the knife and garlic. Grandmother asked worriedly.

—Are you sure everything will be alright?

“Yes, don’t worry too much.”

—Be careful. Ha-eun couldn’t have gone far, right? Don’t stay out too late and come back soon, okay? Be safe.

“Yes. I’ll call you shortly.”

After hanging up, the image of Park Ha-eun happily buying the book came to mind. As he prepared to leave, Cha Eui-jae’s face was now tense, unlike his earlier reassuring voice. His words were meant to calm himself as well.

Wearing his mask, Cha Eui-jae briskly opened the door and stepped out of the restaurant. Locking the door, he hung the red ‘Closed’ sign. The night air was quite chilly.

Barnacles are arthropods of the subclass Cirripedia in the subphylum Crustacea. They are related to crabs and lobsters, with similar nauplius larvae.

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