* * *
“Never thought I’d find myself thinking this way.”
Back then, it would’ve been unthinkable.
But for some reason, the warm look in my father’s eyes—something I’d never experienced before—kept replaying in my mind.
Sniffling for no good reason, I started walking toward the nearest discount mart.
I figured the walk might help with digestion if I took it slow—but in hindsight, that was a mistake.
“No way—isn’t that Seo Inho?”
“Damn. I heard he’s got a nasty personality, but seriously, he’s ridiculously hot.”
“Apparently, he’s a total womanizer.”
The closer I got to the busy downtown area, the more unwanted attention I started attracting.
Even quiet mutterings and whispers were crystal clear to my S-class hearing.
Some people even tried to sneak pictures with their phones.
I had no choice but to activate my evasion skills and quickly slip away.
Guess I’ll just have to stick to food delivery from now on.
That’s when the reality of “Seo Inho” hit me.
A week later.
I was lying on a massive bed—big enough to fit five people—staring blankly into space.
So, what did I do all week?
Woke up late around 1 PM, ordered delivery, worked out a little, cleaned the house, ordered more food, slept.
That was it.
I’d already explored every corner of the house.
Even the “bribe storage” had lost its appeal.
“……”
My old condition had returned.
This morning, I’d woken up staring at the plain white ceiling, and a thought crossed my mind: ‘Is this really how I want to live?’
Turns out, even after reincarnation, people don’t change that easily.
I let out a laugh—dry and pointless.
Maybe it was time to start struggling a bit again.
Before I found myself back on the rooftop, I needed a new goal.
And surprisingly, the answer came pretty quickly.
“Go on a trip with my father.”
Not an awkward, forced trip—but a genuinely enjoyable one.
Sure, Seo Inho’s father wasn’t really my father, but once I saw that warmth in his eyes, I found myself wanting more.
Maybe I’d always had a hidden void I wasn’t even aware of.
Anyway, to reach that goal, there was something I had to do first.
I sprang up like a coiled spring, hurriedly got ready, and set out.
My steps felt unusually light.
“One tteokbokki, and one assorted tempura, please. Mix the tempura up.”
I walked right past my wide-eyed father and took a seat in the same tucked-away corner as before.
Probably because of all the clutter around it, the spot wasn’t exactly popular.
My father stood there holding an empty bowl, looking dazed, before nodding and rushing outside.
He didn’t need to hurry like that…
I barely held back saying it, and started munching on the mountain of tteokbokki in front of me.
“Dad.”
Halfway through the bowl, I cautiously brought up the reason I was here today.
“Do you need help around the shop?”
As soon as I said “dad,” the middle-aged man gasped loudly.
He’d only ever been called “old man” until now, so the word seemed to hit him hard.
Watching his eyes start to glisten, I couldn’t help but curse someone silently—again.
Long story short, I started working as an unpaid part-timer.
He insisted on paying me, but in the end, even my father couldn’t overcome my stubbornness.
Sure, the idea of an S-class working part-time was ridiculous—but I didn’t care.
If the real Seo Inho ever saw this, he’d probably foam at the mouth.
But hey, if I had to work, I’d rather do this than face off with horrific dungeon monsters.
“Three tteokbokki and two sundae, please. Just liver for the innards.”
“Okay! Sorry, but you’ll have to get the fishcake broth yourself. There are paper cups over there.”
“Ah—o-okay…”
The customer flinched at my gesture and took a step back.
Again.
How many times had this happened already?
It seemed like people were even more intimidated face-to-face.
At least I was a borderline S-class supporter.
The other three were practically seen as inhuman around here.
Their skills were overwhelming enough to inspire both fear and awe.
“No, you can’t get the spicier one. This is already super spicy. Have you tried it?”
I was just asking casually, but the customer looked like he was about to confess to a crime.
Are people going to stop coming because of me?
Or is it just my face?
Seo Inho was tall and had sharp features.
Even slightly narrowing his eyes could make him look threatening.
Well, that infamous “jerk” reputation probably didn’t help either.
‘Tch… what do I do? It’s not like I can get a new face.’
I was stirring the giant tray of tteokbokki with a sigh when a little kid ran up to me.
He looked like he’d just played a full game of soccer—dripping sweat, grinning brightly.
“Mister, can I get 1,000 won’s worth of tteokbokki?”
“The minimum is 3,000 won. I can’t do 1,000.”
“But you did it before…”
The kid flinched again, shoulders trembling like he might cry.
I didn’t even do anything!
I forced a smile, awkwardly lifting the corners of my mouth.
The kindest, most harmless smile I knew.
I caught a glimpse of my father dropping his dishcloth in shock—but I pretended not to see.
“Oh, really? Then I guess I have to give you some.”
Thankfully, the kid relaxed.
Then he stared at me with that intense, curious look only kids can pull off.
“Wait… aren’t you the S-class hunter, Seo Inho?”
“Nope.”
“Oh…”
He looked like he short-circuited, clearly recognizing me but too confused to argue.
Still, like a true kid, he didn’t give up.
He dug out his phone from his pocket.
“Can I take a picture with you?”
Well, guess the cat’s out of the bag.
If I was going to be photographed anyway, I might as well do it right.
I pointed to the logo on my apron—[Onhwa Snacks]—and struck a pose.
The kid gleefully snapped a photo.
And that was the beginning.
The other customers, who’d been quietly eating, all surged forward like they’d just been waiting for permission.
“Yo! He’s letting people take photos!”
“No way! Awesome!”
It was a little overwhelming—but better than being feared.
As a son, I couldn’t exactly scare off customers instead of helping.
My father tried to calm them down, but it was too late.
The place had already descended into chaos.
“Can I take one with you?”
The kid, now surrounded by a crowd, looked up at me hopefully.
Whatever. I opened my arms as if to say “Come here,” and that was all it took.
“Eeeek!”
“Me too, me too…!”
What was this, a celebrity meet-and-greet?
Just loosening up a bit made everyone go wild.
Maybe this is why even scandal-ridden celebrities eventually bounce back?
Feeling a bit resigned, I took pictures with each person, one by one.
And it worked like magic.
People who’d previously eaten in awkward silence were now laughing and chatting.
They still looked tense when making eye contact—but once I smiled, the atmosphere softened.
Maybe I do look gentler when I smile.
In my previous life, I hadn’t had much to smile about, so I wasn’t used to smiling often.
That made situations like this feel awkward and unfamiliar.
“Hey, Inho.”
It was during a lull after a rush of customers.
I was trimming green onions in a quiet moment when my father shuffled over, looking like he had something to say.
Every time I saw him act so unsure around his own son, the idea of ever going on a trip with him felt like a far-off dream.
“Is something bothering you?”
The question came out of nowhere, but his eyes were full of worry—and somehow, that filled a space inside me I hadn’t even realized was empty.
Like something lacking had finally been made whole.
Maybe that’s why my answer came so easily.
“I figured I’d start being a proper son.”
One step at a time.
It had already been three days since I started working unpaid shifts at the snack shop.
Time used to drag when I stayed at home, but now the days flew by.
Thanks to that, I no longer had room for pointless thoughts—honestly, I hadn’t even had the time to entertain them.
Strangely enough, Dad didn’t seem too concerned.
Meanwhile, I was the one stuck in a mental loop about whether we should relocate the store, which neighborhood would be best, whether we should go the franchise route…
I dug into my cereal and sank into the sofa.
As expected of furniture made from the hide of a rare monster—it had a cool, pleasing texture.
It looked a bit like crocodile skin.
“Come to think of it, did Do Soohyuk finish clearing that S-class dungeon?”
He probably did already, and the storyline must’ve moved on by now like it did in the movie.
He’d moved like a fish in water inside that dungeon.
In the movie, Soohyuk didn’t use a single one of “Seo Inho’s” skills.
Said it made him feel gross.
But honestly, I think it was more of a pride issue.
It’s not like pride feeds you.
That kind of stubbornness was still baffling to me.
Not that ‘Seo Inho’ was any better.
I clicked my tongue and pressed the remote.
I’d woken up earlier than usual, so I had some time to kill before the store opened.
“…Unlike the previous dungeons, no awakened hunter has yet stepped forward to clear the first S-class dungeon. As you can see, the gate is currently glowing purple. At this rate, it’s expected to shift to a red gate within the next three days, triggering a dungeon break. As it’s an S-class dungeon, the potential for massive damage is high…”
But the news on TV was anything but relaxing.
“What the hell…?”
Do Soohyuk didn’t clear the dungeon?
That would completely throw off the movie plot—no, more importantly, a dungeon break?
That “first S-class dungeon” wasn’t far from my dad’s shop.
If a break happened, we’d be within the damage radius.
“This is bad.”
Of course, there were plenty of S-class hunters in Seoul, so they wouldn’t just sit around and let the gate burst.
Still, it was hard to stay calm knowing something like that could happen. Who’d feel safe going outside?
“What’s Soohyuk even doing? He should’ve dealt with that already.”
Grumbling, I kept watching the screen and finished off my cereal.
But that afternoon, I regretted saying those words almost immediately.
Something completely unexpected happened.
“I—Inho!”
I was in the kitchen, seriously debating whether to prep more fish cake skewers, when Dad came running in from outside, stumbling over his words.
I looked up, wondering what had him so rattled.
He kept glancing nervously behind him.
“Someone’s… here to see you.”
“Me?”
Could it be someone from the Hunter Association?
I had cut off contact without explanation, so I figured they might come find me eventually.
But I was way off.
The man standing outside the shop like a statue was none other than Do Soohyuk.
I was over 180 cm tall myself, but even I had to look up to meet his eyes.
He was seriously tall.
‘Wow, the screen really doesn’t do him justice.’
That thought came out of nowhere.
I’d never seen a movie star in person before, but I hadn’t expected him to be this good-looking.
“The leading man really is different…”
I muttered under my breath, admiring him like I was appreciating a work of art.
At that, a faint wrinkle appeared between Soohyuk’s brows.
“I figured it couldn’t be true, but you’re actually working here?”
“…Huh?”
I blurted out something stupid.
Come to think of it, why was Soohyuk here?
Business had picked up lately, but he didn’t look like he was here for tteokbokki.
“You were all over me about following you around—and now you ghost me, and it’s all because of this?”
His jet-black eyes landed on my apron.
The chill in that stare was enough to raise goosebumps along my neck.
But I was already irritated by the way he said “because of this?”
Was he always this rude in the movie?
* * *
