“The site inspection is complete. Please proceed with the cleanup!”At last, the command for on-site work was given. Workers who had been sitting by scattered barrel fires stood up and began gathering their tools. Most of them were low-ranked heroes running small private offices.“Let’s move, you idiots. We’ll finish quick and grab a drink after.”Song Ojun mimed raising a glass, slinging a pickaxe over his shoulder as he strode forward. The others followed, grabbing their equipment. Uichan adjusted the horn-rimmed glasses slipping down his nose and pulled on his mask.It should be fine. The inside of the mask was dabbed with peppermint oil, and if he focused only on repairing damaged property, he could probably suppress his nausea.He quickly staked out a spot. Avoiding corpses with bullet holes through their heads was impossible, but he made sure to steer clear of the zones where the smell of blood was thickest. After finding a tolerable area, he picked up a shovel to restore the overturned ground—only to realize the scene was far more horrific than expected.“Ugh… What the hell were these things? I’ll never get used to intestines. Why do they look so damn grotesque today?”“That’s what happens when Blacktan shows up. Whenever the Litan mercenaries are deployed, they tear the monsters to pieces. Look—no shape left at all. You’d think they’d consider the cleanup crew.”“Hey, those guys even check to make sure the site’s tidy afterward. Don’t give them anything to complain about.”“Come on, hurry it up, you idiots! Just think of it as money—if you keep fussing, how the hell are we supposed to work?”Unable to stand the whining, Song Ojun barked orders until the muttering ceased. Grumbling, the crew started digging again, and once he glared, even the smallest complaints evaporated. Smacking his chest and muttering about stress-induced heartburn, Ojun suddenly realized someone was missing.“Wait, where’s the youngest?”“The youngest? He was just here.”“There! Over there!”Lee Ranghyun, the bear-sized man wiping up blood, suddenly pointed. Everyone turned their heads. The youngest, masked and hunched, was rushing out of the site, one hand covering his mouth.“What’s up with him lately?”Song Ojun blinked dumbly, watching Ha Uichan vanish. The others followed his gaze, exchanging puzzled looks. Someone finally offered a plausible theory.“Maybe he’s got indigestion? He’s been eating nonstop.”***“Cough, cough… hah…”Having run to a public restroom in the nearby park, Uichan went straight to the sink, turned on the faucet, and dry-heaved over it. His body jerked several times, but nothing came out; his throat felt locked. After a few more harsh coughs, he tore off his glasses and pressed his fingers against his brow.“Ha… Guess that’s a no. Fine, fine… calm down already.”As he rubbed his stomach gently, the storm of sensations gradually subsided. Only then did Uichan grip the sink and look up at the mirror. His sharp eyes were bloodshot, as if he’d been crying. He rinsed his hands and mouth and unzipped his tight work uniform slightly to breathe.He’d come here with a faint, foolish hope, but that had shattered before it even began. The smell of food still made him sick—so of course the stench of blood would be even worse.Sleepiness and fatigue struck him at all hours, but he had learned to live with those. Hunger, too, he managed by always carrying snacks and eating steadily.But the smell—he just couldn’t.“Cough, cough…”Another fit seized him. Uichan bent forward, clutching the mirror, when the restroom suddenly darkened. Startled, he turned his head.A massive shadow filled the entrance.His heart dropped. Someone was there. He tried to turn quickly, but the man at the doorway was already stepping toward him. The sound of heavy, military-grade boots striking the tiles echoed sharply.Step—“Excuse me—”He started to ask the man to move aside, but a large hand reached out toward him. Uichan stumbled back, his shoulders hitting the door with a thud. # Nоvеlight # But there was no pain. Before he could react, a strong arm pressed between him and the door, and a broad hand covered his mouth—steady and controlled, as if to regulate the breathing of someone hyperventilating.Uichan froze. Before he could push the hand away, a low, dry voice dropped from above.“…People unfamiliar with the field sometimes experience hyperventilation.”The deep baritone resonated evenly, without inflection. Uichan lifted his eyes to see the man’s face, haloed by backlight yet unmistakably distinct—bright golden eyes, almost yellow, and stark black hair, giving him a sharp, foreign air.His features were bold and predatory, his frame towering near 190 centimeters, shoulders broad and muscles taut. He looked like a military dog—disciplined but savage, radiating raw, untamed strength.Uichan knew who he was. The man was a lifelong mercenary, raised abroad, who had naturalized in Korea two years ago. Now, he stood among the nation’s greatest heroes—equal even to La Épée.Leader of Korea’s Litan branch: Blacktan. His real name was said to be Yeo Taehwon.And that same man was now standing in front of Ha Uichan, golden eyes lowered—“Ha… ha…”—possibly one of the fathers of the children growing inside him.Panting lightly, Uichan forced his tense body to relax. He raised a hand and pushed the large hand away. The man hesitated but obediently withdrew it.“It’s not hyperventilation. Just… indigestion.”“……”“And I’m used to field sites.”The man tilted his head slightly, then gave a slow, silent nod. Uichan recalled hearing that in many countries, there wasn’t even a clear term for chejeung—just “indigestion.”Without a word, Yeo Taehwon removed one of his black gloves and reached toward Uichan’s face. Instinctively, Uichan stepped back. The man’s hand stopped midair. He clenched it once, tightly, then lowered it again.“…Indigestion must be quite painful. Painful enough to make you cry.”“It’s not that. I just… coughed too hard.”“…I see.”For someone with such a blunt voice, he looked almost gentle now. Despite his predatory gaze, Yeo Taehwon’s focus on Uichan was unwavering—like a trained hound, alert and intent.It was the second time they had met face-to-face since “that night” at the charity party two months ago. When the Three Great Heroes began their frenzied search for Under Doom, In the Hell had gone into chaos. Phantom Thief Kill had quietly fumed that he should’ve taken the three men’s heads; Mother Ship and Jekyll Jack had stormed out, demanding they kill them immediately.Hyde had scrambled their movements, creating illusions to prevent the heroes from tracking Uichan. Thanks to him, Uichan had spent the past two months laying low, relinquishing his Under Doom title and hiding at home—going to Non-Hero only occasionally, just enough to scrape by.Then, about a month ago, he’d been sent to a site where Blacktan was stationed. It was a large-scale operation needing extra hands, so Non-Hero had been dragged in by luck. There, while shoveling in his mask, Uichan had lowered it for a brief rest—and locked eyes with Blacktan.Worse, he hadn’t been wearing his horn-rimmed glasses, only safety goggles.Did he see me…?He had quickly pulled the mask back up, but in that instant, Blacktan’s gaze had thoroughly traced his face.At the charity gala, Uichan’s facial-recognition jammer had hidden his identity, and it had remained active even when he fell into the pit. So the Three Great Heroes couldn’t have seen his real face.Still, there was always the possibility—what if the device had malfunctioned in the pit? Or if Blacktan possessed some ability to visualize things he touched?Just in case, Uichan had worked in silence, keeping his head down. Whether by chance or mercy, Blacktan had left without a word, taking his team with him. Uichan had sighed with relief.He thought he was safe—until the next day, when Blacktan’s office contacted Non-Hero, offering them recurring contracts. Nearly every job since then had placed them at the same scenes as Blacktan.For nearly two months, Uichan had excused himself from work, claiming poor health. But now, with savings running low, he had no choice but to return. Which meant today was the second time they faced each other as Ha Uichan.“You should stop working for now. You don’t look well.”“Let’s… talk outside, maybe. Ugh—”The stench of the restroom hit again, making him gag. He hurriedly shut off the faucet and turned away. When the man stepped aside, Uichan slipped out first. The cool air outside, tinged with the scent of trees, brushed his cheeks.Finally, he could breathe again. Taking in a deep lungful of air, he glanced back to see the man following him—and remembered the glasses he had left by the sink. He turned to go back, but the large body blocked his path. The emotionless golden eyes met his, then lowered as Yeo Taehwon held out the glasses.“Ah… thank you.”Uichan bowed his head quickly, and Yeo Taehwon nodded in silence. Then he looked around, as if searching for something. His gaze caught on a few benches scattered across the park. Reaching out, he gently removed the glasses from Uichan’s nose again.Puzzled, Uichan blinked up at him, and Yeo Taehwon’s eyes lowered to meet his.“Would you like to sit and rest for a bit, Uichan?”Uichan froze in mild surprise. The shock came from one simple fact—He knew his name.

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