Chapter 44
Chapter 44. Oppa, All Women Are Wolves
The timing of Sia’s phone call could not have been more delicate.
I was right in the middle of our meal, so picking up was somewhat awkward, yet I knew far better than to leave her ringing and deal with the potential fallout later.
Excusing myself politely, I stepped away from our table to take the call. A sudden wave of nervous tension tightened my throat as I tapped the screen, wondering what she was about to ask.
“Hey, Sia.”
[Oppa, what are you doing right now?]
“Just eating lunch.”
[And what have you two been talking about?]
“It’s not just Yuna noona and me chatting alone. With the kind of gathering this is, we’ve mostly just been reminiscing about the old days.”
I relayed the entire conversation to Sia without holding anything back. I hesitated slightly over whether to bring up this specific detail, but I ultimately confessed that Yuna noona and I used to share bowls of jajangmyeon after our shifts back when we were kids.
Bringing it up offered zero personal benefit, yet it was vastly safer to be transparent now than to have Sia find out secondhand down the line.
To my relief, her voice did not carry the immediate irritation I had braced for.
Just as I prepared to run through the remaining details, Sia seemed to realize she had interrupted my lunch and softened.
[I caught you right in the middle of eating. Oppa, just give me a ring once the meetup wraps up.]
“Will do. Make sure you eat a good lunch too.”
[Wait, Oppa.]
I had just started breathing a quiet sigh of relief when Sia tossed out another inquiry.
[What is that unnie wearing today? How did she do her makeup?]
‘…Why is she asking about that out of nowhere?’
I could not fathom the underlying motive behind this particular test, so I merely recounted my honest observations.
“Nothing out of the ordinary, really. Maybe a touch more put-together than when we ran into her at the restaurant, but it hardly looks like she went over the top.”
Cosmetics and feminine fashion trends were completely foreign concepts to me, but that was genuinely how she appeared.
As the words left my mouth, I tried to deduce Sia’s train of thought. As far as I could tell, she wanted to know if noona had dressed up specifically to turn my head.
Had I claimed she was wearing elaborate cosmetics and a heavily styled outfit, Sia’s wariness toward Yuna noona likely would have skyrocketed.
Yet purely based on her attire, there was not the slightest hint of flirtatious intent.
Seeking to soothe any lingering suspicion, I added, “From what I can tell, she honestly just came out to share a meal today.”
[No, that’s not it!]
Sia suddenly raised her voice, catching me entirely off guard.
[Girls who barely turned twenty or total novices are the ones who put on heavy, flashy shades to make it obvious they’re wearing makeup. Women like that unnie are the truly perilous ones. They specifically use subtle, muted tones so it looks like they’re barely wearing anything at all… Haa.]
‘Wait, what? Is there an entire unspoken cosmetic code I know nothing about?’
Her logic eluded me, but her irritated sigh made it glaringly clear that I had delivered the wrong answer.
[So listen to me, Oppa. All women are wolves. Stay on guard.]
‘Isn’t the saying that men are the wolves?’
Before I could voice the contradiction, Sia delivered her parting instruction and abruptly hung up.
[Go finish your lunch now. You must be starving, Oppa.]
…A strange, prickling unease lingered in my chest, and I had no idea why.
Returning to the table, I found the chatter flowing along seamlessly. Mom turned to me the moment I took my seat. “Who called?”
“Sia.”
Yuna noona chimed in naturally. “Your girlfriend? I’d really love to see her again sometime.”
I had serious doubts that Sia harbored any mutual desire.
“Any particular reason?”
“What reason do I need? She came across as adorable, lovely, and sweet. I simply want to be friendly with her.”
“Our Sia definitely embodies all of those traits.”
Pleased by the warm praise directed at her future daughter-in-law, Mom beamed with an affectionate nod.
“You should bring your girlfriend to my restaurant sometime. And I believe I brought this up before, but even though I’ve stepped down from active duty, I’m still your senior in the hunter industry. I’d be glad to help however I can. How about we spar together sometime?”
“A spar?”
“Sure. I was considered quite a capable A-rank hunter back in the day. A practice match would be plenty beneficial for both you and your girlfriend.”
‘A spar, of all things?’
I could only imagine the sheer bewilderment on Sia’s face if she ever heard that proposition.
From Yuna noona’s perspective, it was likely an earnest gesture to mentor an up-and-coming junior. Knowing what Sia was truly capable of, however, I could only suppress a wry chuckle.
“I appreciate the thought.”
Even so, the odds of either Sia or me stepping onto a training mat with noona were practically zero.
And should such an absurd match ever materialize, my concern would rest entirely with Yuna noona.
“Yuna really acts like a dependable older sister, doesn’t she? Seeing how thoughtfully she looks after her little brother is so heartwarming.”
Mom beamed at the two of us, looking thoroughly content.
To an outside observer, it certainly appeared that way. I could not help wondering if she would maintain that blissful smile if the hidden realities were laid bare.
Regardless, our conversation drifted across various topics for a good while longer before we finally wrapped up the meal and stepped out into the open air.
The second we cleared the entrance, Yuna noona turned to Mom. “Auntie, have you ever taken those four-cut photo booth pictures?”
“Oh, those trendy photo booths the younger crowd frequents?”
“That’s right. Since it’s been ages since we last met, wouldn’t it be nice to snap a quick keepsake together?”
She gestured toward a brightly lit photo booth across the road.
Outside of dates with Sia, I rarely set foot in those places, but plenty of people treated them as an essential stop whenever they hung out. Her suggestion felt completely natural on the surface.
Yet I had no doubt that if Sia somehow witnessed this, she would immediately brand Yuna noona a scheming vixen and try to tear her hair out.
Still, did I have any reasonable excuse to object? None at all.
“That sounds wonderful! I was just thinking how lovely it would be for the four of us to capture the moment.”
“I’ve been curious to try one of those myself. Let’s head over.”
Both Mom and Yuna noona’s mother embraced the suggestion with enthusiasm, leaving me swept along in noona’s momentum once again.
After posing for the camera strips, we moved on to a nearby café for another round of casual chatter before our afternoon finally neared its conclusion.
“It feels like we only just sat down. It’s such a shame we have to part so soon.”
“Tell me about it. Unnie, I’ll be remaining in Korea for another month or two before heading back, so make sure you reach out!”
Mom and Yuna noona’s mother exchanged reluctant parting words. Taking advantage of the distraction, Yuna noona took a step toward me.
“Make sure you drop by the restaurant with your girlfriend. She seemed to genuinely appreciate our dishes the last time she was there.”
“…Right, sure.”
If noona were not the proprietor, Sia would have been dragging me through their doors herself.
“Oh, Minjun. That card I handed you back then… did you happen to misplace it?”
“Pardon?”
“I told you to give me a call, but you never did, so I figured it might have slipped away.”
Admitting that I had surrendered it to Sia was out of the question, forcing me to fabricate a quick excuse.
“Ah, yeah. Come to think of it, it must have slipped out of my pocket somewhere.”
Hearing that, Yuna noona offered a playful tease. “And here I was worrying you avoided calling because you couldn’t stand seeing me,” she remarked, extending her hand toward me.
“Pass me your phone. I’ll punch my number in directly.”
Caught in the natural rhythm of the conversation, I unlocked my phone and handed it over. She typed in her contact details and even placed a brief outgoing ring before handing the device back.
“I’ll send you a message later. Let’s grab a bite sometime soon.”
The entire interaction was executed with such seamless ease that a single realization washed over me: I had been completely outmaneuvered.
Every beat of the encounter had been orchestrated with effortless precision.
Ultimately, everyone present—save for me—eagerly promised to meet again, bringing our gathering to a definitive end.
Upon returning, I immediately dialed Sia and delivered an exhaustive, unedited report of everything that had transpired.
I had done nothing wrong, yet my nerves remained stubbornly on edge.
The moment my explanation finished, Sia’s voice came through the receiver, completely flat and devoid of emotion.
[Oppa. Let’s share dinner tonight over a video call.]
Given our current constraints, sitting across a real dinner table was a rare luxury, so since our reunion, we occasionally shared evening meals across our screens to simulate dining side by side.
“Sounds like a plan.”
Yet the look on her face as she made the request was noticeably different from her ordinary demeanor. Try as I might to rationalize it, something subtle was definitely brewing under the surface.
I had spent countless days by Sia’s side, yet deciphering the intricacies of a woman’s mind remained an impossible puzzle.
And when evening arrived, the dish Sia had chosen for our meal was, by sheer coincidence, jajangmyeon.
She maintained with an innocent face that it was pure happenstance.
Deep down, I knew better.
There was simply no universe where that was an accident.
Following an early-morning gate expedition the next day, I made my way to Rokan’s lair as twilight settled in.
Rokan had proposed that since I had successfully tapped into Dragon Tongue and acquired a new blade, a sparring session was in order to gauge my current standing.
Upon my arrival, he offered little more than a curt greeting before initiating the duel without granting me a single breath to recover.
“The conditions will mirror our previous encounter. My role remains strictly defensive, while you are free to strike at me with your weapon. That said, there is a slight adjustment.”
Rokan withdrew a weapon from his dimensional space.
“The blade in hand has changed.”
In our earlier session, he had wielded a simple wooden practice sword. Now, he held a genuine, edge-bearing steel blade.
He reiterated that his role was solely to parry and deflect without launching an offensive. Even so, facing a live edge rather than polished wood naturally spiked my tension.
Replicating our initial training, Rokan channeled Dragon Tongue to transport both of us to a desolate, unfamiliar terrain, signaling the start of the bout.
The foundational principles—will and absolute dominion—remained vivid in my memory, but navigating beyond those basics was the true hurdle.
A fair amount of time had elapsed since I first learned to channel draconic energy, culminating in my successful invocation of Dragon Tongue. An internal demand whispered that I had to display tangible evolution compared to before.
Perhaps Rokan had deliberately drawn steel because he foresaw this very expectation weighing on me.
“Whenever you are ready.”
Blade raised, Rokan offered a brief beckoning gesture. I drew a steadying breath and reconnected with the exact sensations that surged when Dragon Tongue had taken form, anchoring myself to a singular focal point: the desperate resolve to survive.
Perhaps “desperation” felt inherently foreign to dragonkind. From their very emergence into the world, dragons were revered as the supreme apex predators walking the earth.
I had previously presumed that the draconic will fueling Dragon Tongue was built entirely upon haughty ideals like subjugation and sovereignty.
Yet reflecting on each instance where my draconic energy had manifested authentically, that explanation felt incomplete.
Every single time the dormant dragon strength within me flared to the surface, it had been ignited by an absolute, unyielding determination to stay alive.
Did true dragons ever invoke Dragon Tongue out of a raw, desperate struggle for mere survival?
Even if such instances existed, they had to be vanishingly scarce.
Reconciling that fundamental contrast was likely one of the massive barriers standing between me and true mastery.
“Your mind seems heavily preoccupied.”
Noticing that the duel had begun while I remained motionless, deep in internal deliberation, Rokan broke the silence.
“It’s hard not to overthink when dealing with an authority I still don’t fully comprehend.”
Perhaps clashing steel against Rokan would illuminate some fragment of the solution.
The moment the final syllable left my lips, I drove my boots into the earth with maximum force, hurtling toward him.
Though faint enough to escape the notice of a careless observer, a faint luminescence had begun clinging to the steel of my blade ever since the incident within the Garden of Dragon Swords.
It fell far short of the iridescent, aurora-tinted sword aura I had witnessed previously, presenting merely as a thin, muted pale gray shimmer.
Even so, it stood as undeniable proof of my progression.
Rokan brushed aside my initial strike with casual ease, his lips curling into an approving grin.
“You have undoubtedly sharpened your edge.”
“I’d hardly have the nerve to face you if I hadn’t.”
Shifting my blade’s trajectory mid-motion, I snapped forward in a sudden thrust aimed to catch him unawares, yet Rokan deflected the point cleanly without giving up an inch of ground.
After exchanging several rapid clashes, he offered an appreciative nod.
Naturally, no miraculous twist occurred that allowed my steel to bypass his guard and threaten a vital spot.
“You previously lamented that the nature of draconic power was an absolute mystery to you, yet I can tell you have begun sensing its essence, however faintly.”
“You can perceive even that…?”
Though I had kept it to myself, during that morning’s gate raid, I had finally started perceiving the true nature of the draconic current coursing through my veins.
Putting that perception into words was tricky.
It felt akin to suddenly growing aware of the blood circulating endlessly beneath my skin. Becoming cognizant of an internal phenomenon normally hidden from perception was a startling, unprecedented sensation.
Earlier on, I had lacked even a baseline point of reference. Yet having weathered two pivotal trials along the way, things had shifted.
Now, I could finally grasp, even if only in rough outlines, what this draconic current truly entailed.
Naturally, whatever insights I had pieced together constituted nothing more than a tiny fraction of the whole.
Nevertheless, during that morning’s expedition, my advancement had felt tangible and concrete.
“Such perception comes naturally to a dragon.”
His succinct answer brook no counterargument.
Seizing upon the brief pause, I snapped my weapon around in an aggressive sweeping arc, but Rokan’s steel intercepted the blow as expected.
Yet the exchange did not leave him entirely stationary. Instead of absorbing the strike rooted firmly in place, Rokan was forced to yield a single backward step as he parried.
To an outside observer, a single step might seem trivial, but making him yield ground at all was a monumental feat.
Rokan recognized the weight of that shift as well, offering a look of unmistakable gratification.
“One additional hour.”
“Excuse me?”
“We shall continue this spar for sixty more minutes. Once that time elapses, I have favorable news to share.”
“Favorable news…?”
‘Why not just tell me right now?’
More to the point, he genuinely expected me to sustain this intensity for an entire hour?
I was constantly shifting angles, pivoting rapidly, and driving full-force slashes along varied trajectories. Even an experienced hunter would collapse from cardiovascular failure under an uninterrupted hour of such exertion.
In practical terms, it equated to sprinting through a grueling forty-minute basketball game at peak intensity, then being forced to keep running at full tilt for another twenty minutes without a second of respite.
I accepted the necessity of rigorous training, but just as I was on the verge of protesting that this bordered on cruel punishment, Rokan dropped a staggering revelation.
“It is my intention to convert that dungeon you refer to as the ‘Garden of Dragon Swords’ into your private training ground.”
“…Say what?”
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