Han Jaemin slipped away from the crowd clustered at the foot of the stage, the applause fading into scattered conversations as he moved. The band shifted smoothly into another elegant melody; violins rose, a piano followed, and the murmur of voices filled the hall again.
Crystal chandeliers glowed overhead, casting warm light over the polished floor, the rows of tables, the reporters weaving between guests and survivors. Waiters passed with trays of wine and sparkling water, and laughter burst here and there like little fireworks.
As Jaemin walked along the side of the hall, his eyes drifted over faces, tables, exits, half out of habit, half out of boredom.
Near a table draped in white linen and decorated with a tall arrangement of pale flowers, a small familiar figure caught his eye.
Haneul.
The boy looked even smaller tonight, swallowed by the glow of the chandeliers and the adults in stiff suits and glittering dresses. He was standing on tiptoe, trying to reach a plate of snacks, his formal jacket a size too big on his shoulders.
The moment Haneul spotted him, his whole face lit up.
The smile that broke out was so bright it almost didn't fit in that polished, expensive hall.
"Hyung!"
He shouted it without a second of hesitation and took off running.
Jaemin barely had time to react.
The impact hit him right at the waist, making the wine in his glass slosh dangerously close to the edge. He stepped back half a pace, fingers tightening around the stem, then quickly crouched down, steadying the boy by the shoulders.
"Hey… easy," he said, a small huff of breath leaving him. "You'll knock us both over at this rate."
Haneul giggled, unbothered.
"You came! I told Grandma you were really cool! I said you'd definitely come if they invited you!"
Jaemin blinked, caught off guard by the barrage of words.
'…Cool, huh. That's new.'
Up close, he could see the kid's cheeks slightly flushed, hair carefully combed but already a little messy from all the running. His tie was crooked.
"You're all dressed up," Jaemin commented, absentmindedly straightening the knot of the tie. "You look like a tiny CEO."
"I'm not tiny!" Haneul puffed his cheeks. "Grandma said I look handsome."
"She's not wrong," Jaemin replied, his lips tugging upward before he could stop himself.
"Haneul!"
An elderly woman with graying hair hurried toward them between the tables, one hand lifting her long skirt slightly so she wouldn't trip. Her steps were quick, but her face was more worried than angry.
"How many times have I told you not to run like that?" she scolded gently, placing a hand on the boy's arm. "You'll hurt yourself, or someone else."
Haneul ducked his head for exactly one second.
"…But it's hyung," he muttered, still glued to Jaemin's side.
The grandmother let out a soft sigh, then turned her gaze to Jaemin. When she recognized him, her expression shifted, first to surprise, then to something more formal, almost nervous.
"Oh," she breathed. "I'm sorry… and thank you!"
Jaemin blinked.
"Huh?"
She hesitated, smoothing a hand over her hair as if remembering this was a fancy event, then gave him a small, polite bow.
"You must be Mr. Han, right? My grandson hasn't stopped talking about you since that day," she said, her voice turning a bit unsteady toward the end. "Thank you… thank you so much for saving his life."
Jaemin scratched the back of his neck, looking away for a second.
'I didn't save him alone…'
"There's really no need to thank me," he said quickly. "I was just… in the right place at the right time."
"That's exactly why I'm grateful," she replied. "If you hadn't been there… I don't know what would've become of him."
Her fingers tightened slightly on Haneul's sleeve.
Meanwhile, Haneul had his own priorities. He gripped Jaemin's free hand with both of his, refusing to let go; his grip was surprisingly firm for such a small child. His eyes shone as brightly as they had in the Rift, overflowing with excitement and a quiet, unwavering trust in the hunter.
"Hyung, hyung!" he said in a rush. "I saw the news! They said Team Dahlia saved us, but it was you, right? You were the one who saved us! You went all puff and pow! Then you were like– splash!"
He tried to mimic the chaos with exaggerated gestures as he spoke, tugging on Jaemin's arm so much he almost smacked the hunter's knee.
"Careful," Jaemin murmured.
He held the boy's wrist lightly to slow him down.
"You're embarrassing him," his grandmother chided.
Her tone was more fond than truly scolding.
Jaemin managed a small smile and shrugged.
"It's okay, I don't mind. He's happy, that's what matters. In the Rift he looked really scared… I'm just glad he's okay now."
The old woman let out a small chuckle, and some of the tension in her shoulders eased.
They talked for a short while, about how Haneul was doing now, about how he still got a little scared at night but insisted he wanted to grow up to be a hunter "like hyung." The grandmother bowed her head once more as she mentioned that part, clearly torn between pride and worry.
While Jaemin nodded along, answering here and there, something else had already begun gnawing at the back of his mind.
His gaze kept drifting over the boy's shoulder, sweeping the hall.
The stage, where the band played; the long line of tables where the survivors sat; the cluster of reporters near the entrance; the balcony doors.
'Where's Park Chae-won? I haven't seen her in a while…'
From the moment she'd disappeared into the crowd with that strange man, she hadn't come back. Not to the tables. Not near the reporters. Not even close to the small group of survivors who were laughing now, clinking their glasses in nervous relief.
A faint pressure grew in his chest, subtle but persistent.
Maybe he was overthinking it. Maybe she was just catching up with someone she knew. Maybe the guy had been a relative, an acquaintance, some manager he hadn't met yet.
'…So why does it feel wrong?'
The memory of the man's expression flickered in his mind. Too calm. Too detached for someone who was supposedly here to celebrate survival.
He clicked his tongue silently.
"Mr. Han?" the grandmother called softly, noticing his distraction.
"Ah." He focused on her again. "Sorry. I spaced out for a second."
He patted Haneul's head once, gently prying his fingers from his hand.
"Hyung?" The boy frowned. "You're leaving?"
"Just for a bit," Jaemin said. "I need to check something."
He leaned slightly toward the grandmother, lowering his voice.
"Excuse me. I need to step away for a moment."
The woman nodded kindly, not asking for details.
"Of course. We've already troubled you enough. Thank you again, Mr. Han. If Haneul tries to run after you, I'll hold him down."
"Grandma!" Haneul protested.
Jaemin snorted quietly.
"I'll come say goodbye before I leave," he promised, giving the boy's shoulder a light squeeze.
He set his wine glass on the nearest table and straightened up. As he walked away, the sounds of the hall washed over him again, laughter, the clinking of cutlery, the soft swell of the music.
He took a slow lap around the room first, checking the obvious places: near the bar, by the exits, around the reporters.
Nothing.
He slipped between two groups of guests, offering a vague nod when someone recognized him and tried to start a conversation, but his attention was already elsewhere.
And that uneasy feeling in his chest slowly solidified into something closer to certainty.
'She's not in the hall.'
If she wasn't here, then there was only one other obvious place she could've gone.
Han Jaemin headed for the side corridor.
Technically, the signs pointed toward the restrooms, but he knew that passage also connected to other parts of the building. It was quieter there, away from the noisy crowd.
'If it were me… I'd step out somewhere calmer to breathe.'
With that thought, he pushed through the side door and left the party's buzz behind, stepping into a hallway lit only by discreet wall lamps.
The corridor felt too empty, almost disconnected from the lively main hall.
He walked on, passing signs that read Restroom, but there was still no trace of Park Chae-won.
'That doesn't make sense… she said she'd only be gone a few minutes. Did she leave?'
A faint metallic sound echoed from further down the corridor. Like someone forcing a doorknob.
Jaemin stopped immediately.
He didn't need much to notice when something was wrong. The sound wasn't coming from the restroom area, but from a door farther along, where the guild kept offices and restricted rooms.
His eyes narrowed.
'No one's supposed to be in there…'
The noise came again, followed by a muffled click.
It could have been a staff member. But it was unlikely, most of them were already tipsy back in the hall.
Before he could decide whether to turn back or continue searching for Park Chae-won, a low grumble drifted out, followed by a whisper:
"Hurry up! Check behind the desk."
He moved a little closer. Just from the tone, it was clear they weren't staff. Or if they were, they weren't here for anything good.
Jaemin leaned in and peered through the narrow gap in the door.
Two silhouettes. Two short men rummaging through the office drawers and shelves.
His gaze flicked up to the plaque fixed above the door.
[Guild Master's Office]
He tilted his head slightly, trying to make sense of it.
'The guild master's office…? Why?'