Chapter 202: [KAIRIE RYU]

“M–Miss Samantha Park. It’s an honor.”

Eli tensed so violently his spine could’ve snapped. His arms stayed glued to his sides, posture stiffening into something painfully formal as he bowed.

He had seen horrors.

He had met powerful hunters.

He had even stood face-to-face with Midas Ryu himself.

But Samantha Park?

Samantha Park was not in the same category.

She wasn’t just famous.

She was legendary.

Guild Master of Twilight Guild.

Rank #4 in all of Korenea.

The strongest female hunter of the last decade.

A woman rumored to have knocked out an S-Class elf with a single kick because it dared dirty her boots.

And Lucien—his past life teenage self—had a full-blown poster-on-the-wall crush on her.

Despite being entirely, completely, absolutely gay.

Because Samantha Park didn’t fit a label.

She bent labels.

She transcended them.

She created her own.

And now she was walking toward him in the flesh—fiery red hair cascading over her shoulders, cool blue eyes gleaming like sharpened ice, her aura so dense the overhead lights flickered in response.

She was older, yes—fine lines at her eyes, a slight maturity in her expression.

But God, she was still gorgeous.

Eli had to consciously remind himself how lungs worked.

’I’m gay. I’m gay. I’m gay. I am SO—fucking—gay—’

“Oh! Right, this is your first time meeting him in person,” Mio jumped in quickly, stepping between them like he sensed Eli spiritually detaching from his own body. He gestured between the two. “Guild Master, this is Elione Noa Ahn—Eli. Eli, this is our Guild Leader, Samantha Park.”

Samantha didn’t acknowledge Mio at all.

Her eyes stayed locked on Eli.

“The honor is mine,” she said smoothly, her voice warm but commanding, like velvet stretched over steel. She stepped closer—far too close—her heels clicking softly on the polished floor.

Eli’s breath stuttered.

Being near her felt like standing beside a walking solar flare—beautiful, dangerous, impossible to ignore.

“My team has nothing but praise for you,” Samantha continued, gaze sweeping over him in a slow, deliberate assessment that made the back of Eli’s neck prickle. “Naturally, I had to see you myself before the meeting begins.”

Eli blinked, stunned.

Praise?

From her entire team?

Not just Kairo?

His heart thumped painfully as he glanced at Mio, who nodded with a smug little smile that said

“Yup, you’re impressive and we talk about it

.”

Samantha’s attention sharpened. A subtle smile curved her lips—knowing, amused, too confident for Eli’s sanity.

She leaned forward slightly and lowered her voice for him alone.

“And I must say…” her eyes dipped briefly to his trembling hands, then back up to his face, slow and appreciative, “…you’re even more interesting up close. Adorable, actually.”

Eli’s entire brain blue-screened.

Wormy squeezed his wrist under the sleeve so tightly it felt like a mini tourniquet, reacting to Eli’s skyrocketing heart rate.

Mio coughed loudly and shoved himself between them for real this time.

“Guild Master, please don’t scare him before the meeting even starts.”

Samantha only smirked, tilting her head.

“Scare him?” she said lightly. “Who said I was trying to?”

“Yeah, if anything, this cougar is trying to reel him in for her collection of boy-toys.”

The new voice was low, gruff, and laced with equal parts annoyance and amusement.

Samantha’s eyebrow twitched.

Visibly.

Eli turned—and immediately wished he hadn’t.

Standing behind her was Zacharias Kim, Guild Master of Lion’s Fang. Towering. Broad-shouldered. Wearing a scowl so permanent it could’ve been carved into his face.

Beside him, Arman lifted a hand in a friendly wave, as if this wasn’t about to become a battlefield.

“Don’t you already have enough young men, Sam?” Zacharias drawled, stepping up beside her, smirk sharp.

Samantha let out a scoff, arms crossing. “Zach, what a surprise. You usually avoid walking down any hall that even smells like it leads to me. Didn’t take your coward-pills today?”

“Ha. Ha. Hilarious.” Zacharias shot back dryly before turning toward Eli, expression shifting. Softer. Protective. “I’m not here for you. I’m here for my boy, Eli—who, unlike you, I’ve already been acquainted with.”

Eli blinked.

’My boy? Since when am I your boy??’

They met once, and it was brief.

Samantha’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Right, your golden boy kidnapped him,” she said smoothly, eyebrow arching. “I’m shocked the Ahn family didn’t sue your guild into extinction. Unless…”

Her gaze slid to Eli.

“…they weren’t informed. Were they, Eli?”

Eli opened his mouth.

Closed it.

Opened it again.

“Uhm—”

He had absolutely no idea how to answer that in a room filled with eleven S-Class hunters.

Zacharias clicked his tongue. “For your information, despite that incident, Eli helped Caelen clear an S-Class dungeon—with just the two of them. Haven’t you seen the news?”

“It doesn’t erase the fact your guild committed a literal crime.”

“And didn’t your moody, brooding little blood-bender drag Eli into an SS-Class dungeon without permission?” Zacharias shot back instantly. “Pretty sure the Ahn family wasn’t aware of that either.”

The temperature in the room dropped five degrees.

Samantha’s smile vanished.

Zacharias took one threatening step forward.

Samantha took one right back.

And suddenly the air was so thick Eli felt Wormy tightening again like a tourniquet around his wrist, startled by the spike of tension.

Behind their guild masters, Arman and Mio subtly squared their stances—like two dogs ready to jump the moment their owners snapped.

Eli stared at them.

Then he realized—

’…Caelen and Kairo.’

This dynamic.

This hostility.

This petty, sharp-edged back-and-forth.

It was identical to them.

And now Eli was stuck between the senior, fully-evolved versions of that same rivalry.

His eyelid twitched.

“Why are you even here, Zach? Just go back to your seat—”

“I told you, I’m here for Eli. To save him from your slimy grasp—”

“HOW DARE YOU. I wasn’t going to do anything—I was only curious about him—”

“Uh huh. Sure. I totally believe that.”

They were still going at it.

Not bantering.

Battling.

Their voices snapped through the air like clashing blades—Samantha’s sharp, deadly and controlled, Zacharias’s deep and rumbling with challenge. Their glares locked like two predators circling the same territory.

And the best part?

Absolutely no one intervened.

A few S-Class hunters did a lazy glance in their direction, then went right back to drinking their coffee, scrolling on tablets, or adjusting their gear like this was, apparently, business as usual.

Eli stared at them in disbelief.

’Is… is this normal? Does this happen EVERY time they breathe the same air?’

Mio leaned in slightly, voice hushed. “Yeah. They do this every time.”

Arman sighed beside him, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “Every. Damn. Time. It never ends.”

Eli swallowed.

Great.

So multiple guilds were filled with grown adults acting like Caelen and Kairo.

Perfect.

Meanwhile, Wormy was having a meltdown under Eli’s sleeve. The little serpent tightened and untightened around his wrist in distressed loops, its faint glow pulsing faster and faster.

Eli angled his hand, whispering under his breath:

“Hey—hey—it’s okay, calm down… this is just… ah… normal human stuff.”

Wormy hissed softly—tiny, trembling, very unconvinced.

Eli flinched.

Honestly?

He wasn’t convinced either.

Samantha’s aura flashed gold like a sunburst.

Zacharias’s flared silver like grinding steel.

The auras collided—pressing, testing—making hairs rise along Eli’s arms.

If they got any closer to an actual fight, the room was going to need renovation.

Then—

THUNK.

The double doors behind them swung open with a solid, commanding weight.

Instant stillness.

Every conversation.

Every glare.

Every rising aura.

Stopped.

Like someone cut the oxygen from the room.

Even Samantha and Zacharias froze mid-argument, turning in perfect sync toward the doorway—like two guard dogs suddenly sensing royalty.

Lawrence stepped inside, bowed slightly, and announced in a crisp, formal tone that carried through the entire room:

“Kairie Ryu has arrived.”

The air changed.

Not in the explosive, suffocating way Caelen or Kairo did—no sudden pressure spike, no violent aura cracking through the atmosphere.

This was subtler.

Colder.

Cleaner.

Like frost crawling delicately across still water.

Kairie Ryu stepped through the doorway with the kind of presence that demanded respect not through force—but through grace.

And the strangest part?

Every S-Class hunter instinctively straightened.

Even Samantha stopped breathing for a split second.

Zacharias’s jaw unclenched.

The tension melted—not entirely, but enough that the room felt less like a battlefield and more like a… sanctuary held together by her calm.

Kairie Ryu was not an S-Class hunter—but she was the head of the Guild Association, the wife of Midas Ryu, a tactical genius, a political powerhouse, and one of the strongest ice manipulators in the continent despite not being officially ranked among the elites.

Her power didn’t scream.

It whispered.

Her long, light-brown hair was pulled into an elegant twist, soft strands framing her gentle face. Her suit was immaculate—a deep navy lined with silver, crisp but feminine, perfectly styled. And her eyes—

Warm.

Steady.

Filled with the kind of kindness that could silence storms.

“Thank you, Lawrence,” she said quietly, her voice smooth as polished ice.

She moved deeper into the room, offering a small bow of greeting to each cluster of hunters. Every S-Class bowed back—some stiffly, some respectfully. Even Samantha dipped her head.

If Midas commanded obedience…

Kairie commanded loyalty.

And then—

Her gaze drifted.

Past the guild masters.

Past the elite hunters.

Past the chaos.

Until it rested softly—directly—on Eli.

Eli’s lungs refused to work.

’Oh—oh she’s…she’s looking at me.’

Kairie smiled at him.

A tiny, subtle, impossibly gentle shift of her lips that warmed the entire room.

“Ah,” she said softly, sounding almost fond, “you must be Elione.”

Eli forgot how to breathe.

Every single person looked at him again.

All eyes.

All attention.

All pressure.

Wormy curled so tight around his wrist that he felt its tiny scales trembling. Eli swallowed, throat dry, palms damp, heart thundering painfully against his ribs.

He forced out a tiny nod.

“…Yes,” he whispered, voice embarrassingly thin. “That’s me.”

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