Chapter 104: Concerns (2)

Lee Do-hyeon grabbed the cold beer glass on the table and gulped it down.

“Ah… that’s good!”

A short exclamation of pleasure escaped his throat.

“As expected, chicken is the best with beer.”

Having eaten delicious chicken for the first time in a long while, Lee Do-hyeon nodded in satisfaction.

Although there was a large facility nearby called the Dungeon Disease Specialty Hospital, there weren’t many restaurants since it was the countryside.

There was one chicken shop nearby, but he had been disappointed after trying it once and hadn’t eaten chicken since.

But this chicken… it couldn’t be compared to any chain or famous restaurant in the city.

“Mmm…”

After devouring the chicken for a while, the conversation naturally drifted toward the YouTube channel the children were running.

They talked about the channel’s recent subscriber count and how Lee Ji-an and Gu Eun-woo bickered and grew together.

The conversation, as light as beer foam, gradually moved toward deeper feelings as they shared a few more drinks. It was right around the time the beer and soju bottles on the bar table were nearly empty.

Gu Yu-jun put down his chopsticks and let out a deep sigh. A subtle yet dark shadow was cast over his face.

“Is something on your mind?” Sang-woong asked, seeing Gu Yu-jun sigh so suddenly.

“To be honest, I’ve been feeling skeptical about being a Hunter lately.”

The worried gazes of Lee Do-hyeon and Sang-woong turned toward Gu Yu-jun at the same time. Gu Yu-jun scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

“It wasn’t like this before, but now that I can actually afford to live, being a Hunter feels burdensome. I know I shouldn’t feel this way.”

Sang-woong nodded slightly as if he understood. He knew Gu Yu-jun’s situation better than anyone.

Though Gu Yu-jun himself didn’t know it, Sang-woong had resolved all the biggest problems in his life.

It was he who had cured Gu Eun-woo’s Dungeon Disease with crops from the Earth, and it was he who had solved the issue of Gu Yu-jun being threatened by loan sharks over a Hunter gear scam.

And because he worked harder than anyone else, Sang-woong could fully understand the feeling of burnout. He had experienced it all himself.

“Eun-woo also drops hints every time I head to a Dungeon these days. He asks if I really need to go to such dangerous places, especially since we’re making some money from YouTube…”

Gu Yu-jun trailed off. His gaze lingered on the beer bottle on the table.

“Before, because of Eun-woo’s hospital bills and the debt from that scam… I spent all my time in Dungeons, day and night. I didn’t care what kind of Monsters they were; I just wanted to hunt everything in sight and make money. My reason for living was so clear back then.”

The desperation and anguish of the past were evident in his voice. Sang-woong listened to him in silence.

“But now… Eun-woo has miraculously recovered from Dungeon Disease, and those scammers were caught — by some stroke of luck — so my debts are gone… Now I find myself wondering why I have to step into dangerous Dungeons again. Since I’m Eun-woo’s only family, he seems even more worried.”

He smiled bitterly.

“And to be honest… being a Hunter isn’t fun anymore. It’s not like I did it for fun in the first place, but now… I feel my limits too clearly.”

Lee Do-hyeon’s eyebrows rose slightly at his words.

“Limits? Yu-jun, it’s rare to find a Hunter as diligent and consistent as you.”

“Diligence and talent are two different things, Brother.”

Gu Yu-jun let out a self-deprecating laugh.

“I’m still a low-rank Hunter, so I don’t know my exact talent limits, but aren’t there many stories among Hunters about an unbreakable wall of talent? I spent two or three times longer in Dungeons than my colleagues and killed more Monsters. But my Level-up speed is always lagging. This isn’t a matter of effort; it’s just a lack of innate talent. I might be wrong, but I feel like I’ll hit that talent ceiling before long.”

A deep-seated frustration from years of struggle permeated his voice. It was inevitable that his motivation would wane if he were to continue his life as a Hunter solely for money while his growth remained stagnant.

For a Hunter, the desire to become stronger usually came before the desire for money.

He gazed into the air and let out a deep sigh.

“Now that the pressure of money is gone, there’s no reason to force myself anymore. I guess… I’m just burnt out. The Hunter life just isn’t enjoyable.”

Sang-woong listened silently to Gu Yu-jun’s honest confession. A moment of silence passed. Lee Do-hyeon refilled Gu Yu-jun’s glass and looked at him with a warm gaze.

“I completely understand how you feel, Yu-jun. Just like you, my own work often feels difficult and overwhelming.”

Lee Do-hyeon began to open up about his own worries. He worked as an Employee in the administration office of the Dungeon Disease Specialty Hospital.

Fine wrinkles were etched onto his face, seemingly carved by the hospital’s cold air and the suffering of the patients.

“Actually, I’m seriously considering looking for another job. I thought only happiness remained after moving here and having everything go so smoothly.”

Lee Do-hyeon’s family had moved here because of Lee Ji-an’s severe atopy. When an opening appeared in the administration office of the Dungeon Disease Specialty Hospital where his wife worked, the couple moved to this place with its beautiful scenery and fresh air.

And Sang-woong had also cured Lee Ji-an’s atopy with crops from the Earth.

“Ji-an’s terrible atopy was cured, and she even regained her old, lively self. I thought I wouldn’t have any more worries.”

Lee Do-hyeon downed the half-finished beer. His expression had grown as serious as Gu Yu-jun’s.

“Working in the administration office, I naturally deal with patients’ families a lot. As you both know, treatment for Dungeon Disease is incredibly expensive. Families come to the office and beg me, terrified that they won’t be able to receive treatment anymore because they lack the funds.”

Deep sorrow and exhaustion seeped into Lee Do-hyeon’s voice. His fingers trembled slightly as he held his glass.

“I try my best to find internal hospital support budgets or other ways to help struggling patients. But there’s a limit to a hospital’s budget. When there’s nothing more I can do, and I have to tell families, ‘I’m sorry. Further treatment is difficult’… every time I do that, it feels like my heart is being torn apart.”

He bowed his head and let out a deep sigh.

“It’s no different from handing them a death sentence. To see death right in front of them and have to give up treatment because of money… Truly, after seeing their tears, I can’t sleep at night.”

Lee Do-hyeon continued as he emptied his glass. His eyes were moist.

“You know looking at our Ji-an. Since moving to this Village, that agonizing atopy was cured… and she’s found her energetic old self again. Watching her do YouTube lately, I couldn’t be more proud or happy. I’ve personally experienced what it’s like for a sick child to regain their health through a miracle… so when I see people losing that chance because of money… honestly, there are times I wonder if I can keep doing this job.”

Lee Do-hyeon’s worries went beyond simple professional stress; it was a profound sense of helplessness felt before the wall of reality — money — and the dignity of human life.

Sang-woong looked at the elder Lee Do-hyeon and the youngest Gu Yu-jun, listening to their worries in silence.

He felt complex emotions and deep empathy for those enduring the weight of their respective lives.

And he, too, was lost in his own concerns about not being able to find a solution even though those close to him were struggling so much.

Amidst the low clinking of glasses, the Gentle Breeze Restaurant was filled with the deep sighs of three men and the heavy weight of life.

As the night deepened, the shadows of their worries reflected in their glasses seemed to grow even clearer.

However, Sang-woong firmly believed he could find an answer even within that weight.

***

The next morning, the dark shadows of yesterday were nowhere to be seen. A faint smile played on Sang-woong’s face as he opened the door to the Gentle Breeze Restaurant, as if he had found a clue to the solution.

He reflected on his father’s worries from yesterday, as well as the deep inner thoughts of Gu Yu-jun and Lee Do-hyeon.

Gu Yu-jun’s story, in particular, weighed on his mind. Burnout regarding Hunter work, the limit of talent, and the lost sense of purpose once survival was no longer an issue.

Those feelings resonated deeply because they were similar to what Sang-woong himself had experienced.

‘Is there no way to solve these three problems at once?’

While he pondered, a brilliant idea flashed through Sang-woong’s mind.

With the number of people joining the Earth increasing recently, securing food supplies until they could settle down had become urgent.

Although he had gained some time by hiring employees at the restaurant, the work had piled up like a mountain, and he was once again pressed for time.

Sang-woong had a hunch that at this very point, his father’s worries and Gu Yu-jun’s problems could be unraveled like a tangled ball of yarn. A brilliant idea flashed through his head like a bolt of lightning.

After finishing the lunch service, Sang-woong contacted Gu Yu-jun privately.

“Yu-jun, do you have a moment? I have something to talk to you about.”

Not long after, Gu Yu-jun opened the door to the Gentle Breeze Restaurant and stepped inside. Sang-woong seated him at the bar table and offered him a cup of warm tea. The subtle aroma of tea spread, calming the mind.

“The reason I asked to see you is because I have a proposal for you,” Sang-woong spoke calmly. “Actually, I have a concern of my own.”

He told him about Park Mancheol’s situation. The division of the Village, the loss of sales channels for agricultural products due to the absence of the Former Village Head, and his father’s heavy sense of responsibility and helplessness. Gu Yu-jun listened to Sang-woong’s story in silence.

Sang-woong looked directly into Gu Yu-jun’s eyes and said, “So, I was wondering if you could become a wholesale merchant for the Village’s agricultural products and purchase the crops on my behalf?”

Gu Yu-jun tilted his head at Sang-woong’s sudden proposal. Although he understood Park Mancheol’s situation, it seemed like something Sang-woong or Park Mancheol could do themselves.

Sang-woong fully understood Gu Yu-jun’s reaction.

However, he couldn’t honestly say that he possessed the Earth in another world and had rescued people living as slaves of the Demon Tribe, creating a high demand for food.

“Someone I know runs a large agricultural wholesale business. So, I decided to supply them with crops. But this is a secret from everyone else — even my family. I plan to tell them once things are more settled. I need someone who is discreet and trustworthy, and since you can earn a stable income without having to be a Hunter, I thought it would be a win-win for both of us. What do you think?”

Gu Yu-jun looked dazed for a moment at the unexpected proposal. An agricultural wholesaler instead of a Hunter. But soon, a mysterious smile appeared on his face.

“Brother… if you’re willing to do that for me, I’ll do my absolute best.”

Gu Yu-jun readily accepted Sang-woong’s proposal. His voice was filled with sincere determination. To be honest, Gu Yu-jun didn’t fully understand Sang-woong’s proposal, but it didn’t really matter.

He figured Sang-woong had his reasons, and he felt grateful that Sang-woong had chosen him for such a task.

He had a faint suspicion that Sang-woong was related to his younger brother Eun-woo’s miraculous recovery from Dungeon Disease and the sudden disappearance of the loan sharks who had been harassing him.

His suspicion had started from something very small.