Chapter 14: A feeling I’ve never felt before

Manwol Guild’s elite members were so distinct in their personalities that even aligning on a single decision was a challenge.

Yet, the moment they met Chorok, they shared a rare, unanimous thought:

‘The boss is gonna lose it over this face…’
‘She’s exactly the boss’s type.’

Her petite frame, round eyes,
plump cheeks, and peach-tinted flush—
the healer’s appearance perfectly matched their boss’s taste for cute things.

Of course, their boss, Lee Hyun, went to great lengths to hide this preference,
but could such a thing ever stay hidden?

The guild members, long aware of it, simply kept quiet to respect her pride.

‘Hope you’re watching, boss.’

The bandaged woman glanced skyward.

The cloudless, clear sky held a faint ripple, barely noticeable unless you looked closely—a surveillance camera used to collect combat data and provide feedback during gate runs.

She couldn’t help but wonder about the boss’s expression, watching this girl live through the feed.

‘Is she grinning ear to ear?’

Or pretending to stay composed?

Either way, imagining the boss glued to the monitor brought a pang of bitterness.

The hooded man felt the same, his envy morphing into burning jealousy.

The one person who embraced them—outcasts labeled as monsters—without condition was Manwol’s founder, Lee Hyun.

The first to claim the rank 1 title, unmatched in martial prowess in Korea.

For those shunned by the world, being accepted by such a figure was everything.
Naturally, Manwol’s members held deep respect and reverence for her,
but over time, that devotion twisted into a thirst for possession.

So, this girl, perfectly matching their boss’s taste, was anything but welcome.

As the bandaged woman and hooded man eyed Chorok as a rival,
one person stood apart.

The necromancer, Ha Doyeon, had different thoughts.

‘She’s cute… The boss will love her.’

Doyeon’s mind was filled with worries:
Would the girl be scared inside the gate?
Would she get hurt?
What if she started crying—should she comfort her?

‘She doesn’t seem to have much combat experience…’

The upcoming gate was undead-themed.
No matter how she looked at it, it seemed too much for the small girl to handle.

‘…Will she be okay?’

Just as worry crept in—

“I-I look forward to working with…”

Chorok’s round eyes suddenly turned toward her.

Instantly, Doyeon’s heart clenched, and sweat poured down her face.

She could barely breathe.
Her chest felt heavy, her vision blurred.

‘…What’s happening?’

This was a new sensation.

Making eye contact with a healer shouldn’t cause this.

She’d run countless gates with their dedicated healer, Saebyeol, and never felt anything like it.

‘This is weird.’

Wiping her sweat, Doyeon tilted her head, puzzled.

With an uneasy feeling, she cautiously stepped into the gate.

Undead gates demand precision from a healer’s skills.

The air inside is laced with decaying toxins, and inhaling too much can trigger deadly debuffs.
Undead monsters relentlessly cast curses, fear, confusion, and unhealable status effects.

The problem? None of these could be countered without a healer’s Cleanse skill.

Doyeon, immune to debuffs as a necromancer, was fine,
but the others weren’t.

‘Mess up once, and I’ll rip your soul out.’
‘Miss a skill, and you’re dead by my hand.’

For the rest, clearing an undead gate without a healer was near impossible.

And yet…

“…Oh?”
“…”

The party began to see the small girl they’d viewed as a threat in a new light.

It started when a lich cast a mental curse.
Chorok’s Cleanse landed swiftly and accurately.

There’d been no briefing, and mental debuffs weren’t visible—how did she time it so perfectly?

‘Just a fluke…?’

They chalked it up to luck.

But then came a shield, cast as if she’d predicted their lapse in focus.
A buff, timed perfectly with their damage cycle’s peak.

‘…What’s with her?’

Her impeccable skill timing let the damage dealers unleash their full potential.
The once-formidable undead monsters fell like tofu under a knife.

“Watch out! A lich revived in the right corner!”
“The vibrations feel off—a monster wave’s coming from the front. Focus there!”

Chorok even caught details the frontline fighters missed, taking charge of the battlefield.

They’d expected her to flee in terror at the grotesque monsters.
Instead, her eyes sparkled as she led the charge, like a small, fearless puppy.

“This healer’s quick and solid. I like it.”
“…Not bad.”

They were starting to warm to the little one.

As they cleared the gate’s monsters, approaching the final stage—

“…C-Could you stay back a bit…?”

A strange sound came from behind.

“Gah…! Cough!”

Doyeon collapsed, vomiting blood.

She was the strongest among the elites,
yet she was taken down in an undead gate—her home turf?

Impossible.

The bandaged woman and hooded man exchanged confused looks, piecing it together.

A faint glow from Chorok’s hand matched the light rippling over Doyeon’s fallen body.

They got it instantly.

“She… cast Heal because the skull freaked her out?”

The hooded man bowed his head, stifling laughter.

How could such ferocity come from that tiny body?

“Hahaha! Team kill… Oh, my stomach!”
“Pfft… Snort…”

The healer they’d seen as a thorn was now genuinely likable.

‘…What just happened?’

Doyeon, reeling from the shock, shakily stood up.

Chorok approached cautiously and spoke.

“Are… you okay? You looked really unwell earlier, so I thought a Heal might help…”

She looked on the verge of tears.

Her trembling hands and anxious demeanor showed no malice or intent.

But the problem was—

“…Ugh.”

The more emotional Chorok got, the harder it was for Doyeon to breathe.

“It’s fine. I should’ve warned you… My fault.”

Doyeon raised a hand to calm her, then explained.

Though she looked human, her dark-aligned skills made her closer to undead.
Heal or Cleanse caused pain, not recovery.

“So, please don’t use skills on me.”

Chorok’s face froze in shock, her eyes welling up.

“I-I’m so sorry…”

But she clenched her eyes shut, determined not to cry in front of others—an adorably stubborn sight.

“It’s okay. It’s my fault for not taking care of myself. Thanks for worrying.”

As Doyeon finished, Chorok’s eyebrows drooped into a pitiful arch.

A tear fell, then streamed down her cheeks as she sniffled, her lips trembling.

She was just too cute.

‘…Adorable.’

Without thinking, Doyeon reached out and gently patted Chorok’s head.

And watching it all, from start to finish, was one person.

“Boss, you’ll ruin your eyes staring at that screen.”

Lee Hyun, Manwol’s leader and wielder of the Moonlit Blade,
was glued to the monitor, eyes blazing.

‘She’s crying…’

Why?

Scared of the undead monsters?
Or was Doyeon’s face too frightening?

Having never learned to empathize, Lee Hyun couldn’t understand Chorok’s tears.

But one thing was clear: her crying was insanely cute.

“Seyeon, why do you think she’s crying?”
“Maybe she’s touched because someone thanked her despite her mistake?”

Lee Hyun’s lips parted in disbelief.

“You can cry for that reason…?”

…Shockingly cute reasoning.

How could everything about her, from her looks to her crying, be so adorable?

“Boss, work’s piling up. Time to leave the monitor room.”

Reluctantly standing at Seyeon’s urging, Lee Hyun felt a strange pang in her chest.

‘Am I…?’

Frowning quietly, she experienced an unfamiliar sensation.

“What’s wrong?”
“Hm? Nothing.”

For the first time, the woman unmoved by others’ pain felt compassion.