Jihoon's eyes fluttered open, pain throbbing in his side like a drumbeat. He was on a stiff cot, the room bright with sterile white light, a sharp contrast to the slums' dim glow. The air smelled of antiseptic, clean and cold, nothing like the oil and smoke he knew. Beeping monitors hummed nearby, and a window showed the city skyline, all gleaming towers and distant neon. This wasn't the slums, not quite, but it was close enough, just over the invisible line where the city started to care. A hunter's medical center, he realized, his stomach dropping. Places like this were for heroes, not slum rats like him. He couldn't afford this.
His side ached, bandaged tight where the Blade Mantis's claw had grazed him. His torn jacket hung on a chair, bloodstained and useless now. His first thought was his mother, alone in their crumbling apartment, coughing, defenseless. Did Seoyoon make it to her? He sat up too fast, pain shooting through his ribs, and swung his legs off the cot. His boots hit the polished floor, and he stumbled toward the door, heart racing. He had no money, no way to pay for this fancy place. They'd take everything, maybe even go after his mom's medicine money. He had to get out.
"Hey, hold it!" A woman's voice stopped him. A nurse, maybe thirty, with tired eyes and a neat bun, grabbed his arm gently but firmly. Her badge read Minji. "You need to stay put, hunter. You're not healed yet."
Jihoon froze, his throat tight. "I'm not a hunter," he mumbled, voice rough. "I can't pay for this. I gotta go."
Her face softened, a small smile breaking through. "Hunters get treated for free here. No bills, no questions. You earned this cot, trust me."
He opened his mouth to argue—he wasn't a hunter, just some F-Rank nobody with a useless power—but a familiar voice cut him off. "Jihoon, sit your butt down before you fall over." Seoyoon burst through the door, her short black hair messy, her cracked tablet tucked under her arm. Her eyes flicked to the nurse, and she flashed a grin. "Thanks for patching him up, Nurse Minji. This guy's a hero, you know. Saved a bunch of people out there."
Jihoon's jaw dropped. Hero? He'd barely survived that mantis thing. The nurse's smile widened, her eyes shining with something like gratitude. "You saved my cousin, that little boy in the alley," she said, her voice warm. "If you need anything, anything at all, just call me." She squeezed Jihoon's shoulder, then nodded to Seoyoon and left, her footsteps echoing down the hall.
Seoyoon grabbed Jihoon's arm, steering him back to the cot. He sank onto it, wincing, his head spinning. "What was that?" he asked, voice low. "Why'd you call me a hero? I'm not… I didn't…"
She raised an eyebrow, plopping onto a chair beside him. "Didn't what? Push me out of that beast's way? Save that kid from getting sliced up? You're denser than I thought, Jihoon."
He shook his head, the word useless echoing from the Awakening Ceremony. The laughter, Hwan's taunts, the official's sneer—it all stung fresh. "I'm not a hunter," he said, barely above a whisper. "F-Rank, remember? Hitbox Control. They said it's garbage."
Seoyoon snorted, pulling out her tablet. The screen glowed, and she tapped it, showing a sleek profile. Park Jihoon, B-Rank Hunter, Ability: Hitbox Control. Jihoon's eyes widened, his breath catching. "What the… B-Rank? Seoyoon, what did you do?"
She leaned back, smirking like she'd just won a bet. "Hacked their system. Took me ten minutes to slip you into the hunter database. Figured B-Rank sounds better than F. Shows what I think you're worth." Her eyes softened, just for a second. "You're not useless, Jihoon. Not to me."
He stared at the screen, his chest tight. B-Rank. It was a lie, illegal as hell, but it meant something. She believed in him, more than he believed in himself. "Isn't that, you know, against the law?" he asked, a half-smile tugging at his lips.
She laughed, a sharp, carefree sound. "Yeah, but good luck catching me. Their firewalls are a joke. Nobody's checking slum records when the city's got bigger problems."
Jihoon's smile faded, his mother's face flashing in his mind. Her coughs, the empty medicine bottle on their table. "My mom," he said, voice cracking. "Did you get to her? Is she okay?"
Seoyoon's smirk vanished, replaced by a gentle nod. "She's fine, Jihoon. I got to your place right after you played hero. Your mom was scared but safe. I used some black-market contacts, got her enough medicine for a couple months. No more worrying about that for a while."
Relief hit him like a wave, his eyes stinging. He blinked hard, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Seoyoon… thank you. I don't know what I'd do without you."
She waved it off, but her cheeks flushed slightly. "Don't get all mushy on me. You'd do the same." She paused, then added, "You already did, back there with that mantis."
He leaned back, the cot creaking under him. His side still ached, but the pain felt distant now. He thought about the fight, how he'd focused, willing his hitbox to shrink, letting the beast's blades phase through him. For a moment, he'd seen something—the mantis's hitbox, like a faint outline in his mind, with weak spots at its joints. Was that real, or just his imagination? He was too new at this, too raw, but it felt like his power could be more than dodging.
"What happened out there?" he asked, voice steadying. "The dungeon break, the beast. Did it… get anyone?"
Seoyoon's eyes darkened, but she kept her tone even. "It was bad, but other hunters showed up eventually. Low-ranks, not the fancy S-Rank jerks from the city. They backed up that guy, Kwangsoo, the one who saved us. He's banged up, but not too bad. Recovering somewhere around here, I think."
Jihoon's chest tightened, gratitude mixing with guilt. Kwangsoo had charged that mantis, giving him and Seoyoon a chance to escape. "I need to thank him," he said, his voice firm despite the pain. "He saved my life. Yours too."
She nodded, her expression serious. "Yeah. He's a good one, even if he looks like he's been through a meat grinder." She hesitated, then leaned forward, her voice dropping. "You know, Jihoon, what you did out there… saving me, saving that kid. That wasn't useless. That was something really brave and heroic."
Her words hit hard, cutting through the fog of self-doubt. The ceremony's laughter still echoed, but it felt quieter now, drowned out by her belief, by the fact he was still here. He looked at her, really looked, and saw the worry in her eyes, the way she hid it behind that smirk. "Thanks, Seoyoon," he said, voice thick. "For everything."
She rolled her eyes, but her smile was soft. "You're such a sap." She stood, stretching, then glanced at him. "You hungry? You look like you haven't eaten in a while."
His stomach growled, answering before he could. "Yeah, kinda," he admitted, a sheepish grin breaking through.
She laughed, stepping closer. "Alright, hero. I'll grab you some food. Don't go running off again." Before he could reply, she leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead. It was soft, fleeting, but it warmed his face like a spark. "You're not useless," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Never were."
She turned, heading for the door, her tablet tucked under her arm. Jihoon watched her go, his heart lighter than it had been in years. He lay back on the cot, staring at the clean ceiling, the city's glow filtering through the window. His mother was safe. Seoyoon believed in him. And Kwangsoo, that scarred ex-hunter, had given him a chance to keep fighting. He'd find him, thank him, maybe learn what it meant to be a hunter—even a fake B-Rank one. A distant siren wailed, a reminder the slums weren't done with chaos. But for now, Jihoon felt something new: hope.