Chapter 83: [DANGEROUSLY CLOSE]

“Uhm…”

Eli blinked, realizing too late that both Caelen and Midas were staring directly at him.

’Seriously…? This keeps happening! Every time I open my mouth or even look like I might, suddenly I’m under a damn spotlight. I’ve got Caelen—one of the strongest S-Class hunters alive—on one side, and the literal founder of the Hunter’s Association on the other, just watching me like I’m about to give a life-altering speech.’

Midas’s eyes gleamed, his tone smooth yet firm. “Go ahead. I’m curious about your input.”

Caelen inclined his head in silent agreement, gaze pinning him just as expectantly.

Eli froze, throat tightening. ’What the hell am I supposed to say? I’m not some strategist, I’m barely surviving here!’

But the problem wasn’t something he could shrug off either.

Tear monsters were still appearing at random, tearing through neighborhoods and highways. Civilians needed A-Class to S-Class hunters on hand just to prevent another bloodbath.

On the other hand, S-Class dungeons would inevitably open—and they already had the two strongest guilds, Lion’s Fang and Twilight, assigned to handle them.

That part made sense. That part worked.

But now… lower-class dungeons mutating into higher rank. That was the wild card. The disaster. The one scenario no one could prepare for.

And it had only happened once. To him.

His palms dampened as his mind whirred, every option sounding both necessary and impossible.

’If I say it out loud and it’s stupid, I’ll look like an idiot. But if I don’t say anything, then I’ll look useless. Dammit, why am I even here?’

Was Eli overthinking or being overdramatic?

Maybe.

But he was internally panicking because he really hated being put on the spot.

“Well?” Midas’s voice was soft, patient, but the weight in it pressed down on Eli’s chest all the same.

Eli furrowed his brows, fingers curling against his knee. He did have an idea. A small one. But it seemed messy, inconvenient, and he had no clue if it was even realistic.

“You look like you have an idea,” Midas said again, leaning forward slightly. Encouragement laced his voice, but there was no mistaking the undercurrent of command. “Please, do share it.”

Eli inhaled sharply, forcing himself to sit straighter. His heart drummed against his ribs like it was trying to escape.

“Alright, so…” he began, the words catching on his tongue.

But before he could speak, a sharp knock rattled the heavy double doors.

The sound split through the quiet like a blade.

Both Eli and Caelen’s heads snapped toward it instantly, muscles tensing on instinct. Even Midas’s eyes flicked to the entrance, his calm expression never faltering.

Lawrence, who had been standing silently like a shadow in the corner, moved with practiced grace. His polished shoes clicked against the marble as he crossed the room, his hand steady as he reached for the handle.

He glanced back at Midas once, a wordless exchange, before pulling the door open.

The heavy doors cracked open just enough for a woman to peek her head inside. Her expression was tense, lips moving quickly as she whispered something to Lawrence.

Eli tilted his head, curiosity prickling. ’What’s going on…?’

Lawrence’s brows furrowed almost imperceptibly before he gave a clipped nod. He shut the door again with a soft click, then strode closer to Midas’s desk. Leaning down, he whispered low into the founder’s ear.

For the first time, Midas’s serene composure shifted ever so slightly. His brows lifted the faintest fraction, surprise flickering across his eyes.

But the smile never left his face—it was warm, calm, steady.

“I see,” he murmured, then straightened. His attention returned to Caelen and Eli, his presence filling the room once again. “It seems I must attend to an urgent matter.” His tone was apologetic, though still touched with kindness. “I’ll have to cut our meeting short. My apologies, both of you.”

Eli shook his head quickly, forcing a small smile. “N-no problem at all, sir.”

Caelen’s gaze sharpened, his voice steady. “Is it serious?”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Midas replied smoothly, the warmth in his tone unwavering.

Then he rose gracefully from his seat, extending a hand across the desk. His palm was firm, his grip deliberate as he clasped Eli’s hand.

“We’ll meet again, young Elione,” he said, eyes glinting with something Eli couldn’t read. “It was a pleasure.”

Eli swallowed, nerves tangled, but managed to croak out, “Likewise.”

Midas inclined his head once before turning, Lawrence already at his side, guiding him toward the doors.

Within moments, the soft sound of their retreating steps faded down the hall, leaving the office unnervingly quiet.

Eli blinked. “…Wait. Did they just… leave us? In Midas Ryu’s office?”

The absurdity of it hit him all at once, and he turned to Caelen in disbelief. “Uh. Should we… leave?”

But instead of answering right away, Caelen tilted his head down at him, a spark of mischief in his gaze. His voice was deceptively casual, but the edge of a smirk tugged at his lips.

“Why,” he asked, “did you suddenly start calling me handsome?”

Eli’s stomach dropped. His face heated instantly. “Wha—What do you mean?”

’After everything we’ve talked about, he’s asking about that? And I’ve only called him handsome twice!’

Caelen’s smirk deepened, clearly enjoying every twitch of his expression. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as the assertive type. Unless you really are a perverted die-hard fan after all.”

Eli groaned internally. ’Why does he latch onto the most embarrassing things possible?!’

But then—an idea sparked.

Eli straightened just slightly, lifting his chin, his lips curling into the faintest smirk of his own. “Well… it’s because you are handsome.”

The words left him smoother this time, deliberate—like a counterattack.

And for the briefest moment, Caelen’s eyes widened, the smirk faltering into something unreadable before his expression sharpened again.

Eli’s heart hammered, but a spark of satisfaction flickered in his chest. ’That’s three out of five but…’

Caelen’s sharpened expression shifted like a blade sheathed, all steel softening into something infinitely more dangerous.

His lips curved—not in kindness, not in reassurance, but in that wicked way that meant he knew exactly what he was doing.

’Wait…what is he—’

Caelen moved. Smooth, deliberate, each step quiet but heavy, eating the space between them like a predator closing in.

Eli’s flicker of relief—that small, fragile breath he thought he’d earned—shattered like glass on stone.

’Wait—wait, wait, why is he walking closer?! Why does he look like—like that?!’

The distance evaporated in an instant. Caelen’s imposing frame, broad shoulders and all, eclipsed the light spilling from the windows.

His presence pressed down, hot and suffocating, until Eli found himself retreating a full step without even realizing it. His back nearly bumped the polished edge of Midas’s desk.

“Wh—What are you—” Eli stammered, but the words broke apart the moment Caelen bent down.

Molten amber eyes caught his own, flickering like firelight in a cavern. Close—too close.

The world narrowed to the sound of his own heartbeat, thunderous in his ears, and the steady warmth of Caelen’s breath ghosting across his cheek.

’Nope. Too close. Dangerously close. WAY too close—’

And then—

Ding.

The sound pierced through him, unmistakable and cruel.

Eli’s blood ran cold, his stomach plunging into his shoes. His vision flickered, the faint glow of the system’s interface blooming at the edge of his sight like a curse.

He didn’t need to read it to know. Not yet.

Not when Caelen was this close, not when every instinct screamed that the system thrived on making his humiliation worse.

’I don’t even wanna look.’

Because with Caelen’s face inches from his own, with those eyes pinning him in place like prey—Eli was certain.

It was going to be an additional task.

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