Chapter 6

　　I pulled a bottle of sesame oil from the lower kitchen cabinet, then stopped and let out a long sigh. I’d just remembered there was no rice in the bin.

　　I looked between the empty bin and Hamin, who sat slumped with exhaustion. I considered slipping out for a bit, but taking him with me was risky, and leaving him alone was out of the question. There might be more stragglers besides the ones we’d caught.

　　At the rustling of a bread bag, Hamin flinched and pressed himself into the corner again. He was less jumpy than before, but his eyes were still full of wariness when he looked at me.

　　…Well, at least he didn’t grow more white clovers.

　　"I’ll toast some bread instead of rice."

　　His eyes went round.

　　"You said… you’d give me rice…"

　　"There’s no rice. I’ll mix it for you tomorrow. Tonight, eat this and go to sleep."

　　At that, he drooped and nodded.

　　He really wanted that egg rice with soy sauce, huh.

　　I wanted to feed the kid something proper after the day he’d had, but under the circumstances, the best I could manage was French toast.

　　While I whisked milk and eggs together, Hamin craned his neck to watch. His gaze hovered somewhere between curiosity and suspicion, so I pulled out a chair and set it beside me. He crept over and climbed up.

　　"What are you doing?"

　　"Cooking bread."

　　"What’s that?"

　　"Egg mixed with milk."

　　While I soaked the bread in the egg mixture and laid it in a pan slicked with cooking oil instead of butter, he chattered nonstop. What’s this, what’s that—he wanted to know everything. I answered each question one by one, and the bread slowly turned golden.

　　I moved the nicely browned slices to a plate and dragged his chair over to the table as well.

　　"Haha!"

　　He grabbed the wobbling chair and burst into giggles, then clamped his mouth shut when he saw my face. I’d thought the smell of bread had relaxed him a bit, but he was still on edge.

　　"Eat."

　　Wait. How old was this kid again?

　　He looked about six or seven. At that age, he should be able to use chopsticks, right? I set down the only pair of chopsticks I owned, and his expression turned grave.

　　Wow. When he frowned, he looked exactly like his uncle.

　　Thinking of Eunseong made my insides churn. I was about to step away before I took it out on an innocent kid when Hamin grabbed my sleeve with big, pleading eyes.

　　"Where’s my bbani fork…?"

　　What the hell is a bbani fork? I couldn’t hide my momentary panic and let out a weak laugh. I didn’t even have a regular fork, never mind that.

　　When I told him there wasn’t one, he awkwardly picked up the chopsticks. His hands were shaking so badly he was bound to drop everything before it reached his mouth. I took the chopsticks from him, pinched up a piece of toast, pressed it into sugar, and popped it into his mouth.

　　"By the way, what’s a bbani?"

　　I finally asked what I’d been wondering, and he stared at me like I’d just committed blasphemy. He clearly wanted to say something, but his mouth was too full of bread. Cheeks bulging, he just chewed and chewed, then spread both hands and held them up by his head.

　　Then he wiggled his fingers and swayed his body.

　　"A rabbit?"

　　"Mm."

　　Right. I nodded, then frowned. His tone… was informal. Earlier he’d been speaking so politely, hadn’t he?

　　"I want more."

　　For such a little thing, he had quite the appetite. He didn’t look satisfied until he’d polished off the whole bag of bread, patting his full belly with both hands. I glanced at him. I’d planned to just put him to bed since I didn’t have any spare clothes, but after the day he’d had, his clothes were filthy.

　　Could I clean them with a skill?

　　I stood him up and tried patting his clothes with Splish Splash, but the skill only seemed to work on living things. The fabric stayed stubbornly dirty.

　　"What are you doing?"

　　"Your clothes are too dirty."

　　He tugged at his shirt and stared down at it, then muttered, "Yeah. Dirty," and started taking it off.

　　"Give me clean clothes."

　　As if I’d have any.

　　I rummaged through my meager wardrobe and pulled out a short-sleeved T-shirt. He looked like he was about to cry.

　　"This isn’t Hamin’s shirt."

　　He flopped down, demanding his own pajamas, whining that there was no bbani on it. I barely managed to sit him up and get the shirt over his head. On his small frame, the T-shirt hung down like a dress. I was pleased it covered him completely, but Hamin stuck his lower lip out, sulking that it wasn’t his.

　　"Let’s wash you. You’ve got something on you here."

　　I reached for his arm, planning to clean him up and get him to bed, but he jolted like he’d been shocked.

　　"What? Are you hurt?"

　　"N-no, it’s just…"

　　Yeah, right. The way he dodged and mumbled was suspicious as hell.

　　If Eunseong came back and found so much as a scratch on Hamin, he’d kill me with his eyes. Or bury me up to the neck and leave me there.

　　"Let me see."

　　I grabbed his wrist as he tried to scoot his butt away and checked him over. On the inside of his knee, I found a black mark. The moment I thought, What’s that?, a wave of revulsion hit me.

　　It wasn’t some ordinary dark spot. It was a curse, written in tiny, cramped letters. The malice packed into it was so intense that even the energy leaking off it was pitch black.

　　The rippling current looked disturbingly similar to what I saw on monsters. I flicked it, and golden letters appeared in the air.

　　[Would you like to view the information?]

　　I gave a small nod, and the same book I’d seen before appeared.

　　The book floated in the air and flipped through its pages on its own, stopping on the one with Hamin’s name.

　　Most of the text was still in that unreadable script, but there were parts I could make out.

　　[Awakened: Baek Hamin, Age: 7, Skill: Vegetation, Status Effect: Medusa’s Gaze (B)]

　　Medusa… didn’t that mean your body turned to stone? No way.

　　"You don’t move this leg much, do you?"

　　"A little…"

　　At first, he kept shaking his head at my questions, but when my voice hardened, he reluctantly nodded. Watching his left leg twitch, I remembered an episode from the original novel.

　　Hamin and Do Yudam had teamed up to seal a dungeon, but they were like oil and water. They just couldn’t mesh. Then Yudam noticed Hamin’s curse and gave up the elixir to him.

　　I’d been really moved by Yudam’s kindness—he was badly hurt himself, but he still put Hamin first. That was… when Hamin was about twenty-two, I think?

　　He was seven now, so that was fifteen years from now. By then, the curse would have spread over his whole leg.

　　Wait, wasn’t this the thing Eunseong later blamed me for? I could totally see him doing that.

　　Could I undo this…? The moment I started to worry, the letters flickered once.

　　I placed my palm over the cursed mark on his leg. The curse writhed and resisted, but it was only a B-grade. What was it going to do against an S-class?

　　I couldn’t erase it completely, but once I calmed the churning current, color finally returned to Hamin’s face—a soft, healthy pink, like a child should have.

　　"Uh…"

　　He ran his hand over his leg, then stared up at me with wide eyes.

　　"Can you move it now?"

　　"Mm…"

　　"If it hurts, you tell me."

　　"Okay!"

　　Hamin nodded, then suddenly sprang to his feet and started running laps around the room. Wondering what the hell he was doing, I called him over to sit down. Even across that short distance, he bounced on the balls of his feet before squatting in front of me.

　　"Don’t run. The downstairs neighbor will come up."

　　"Okay!"

　　"At least you’re good at answering."

　　"No, I’m good at behaving, too."

　　Sticking his belly out, he tiptoed around with exaggerated care, as if to show off. Since he was already up, I opened the bathroom door and told him to go wash. To his credit, he washed up all by himself. While he was in there, I rummaged through the closet, scratching the back of my neck.

　　Forget clothes for Hamin—I needed to buy my own first.

　　I’d already given him the few things I owned, leaving me with nothing to wear. I’d have to swing by the market tomorrow and take a look. Clicking my tongue, I spread out the bedding and called Hamin over. He’d been sneaking around on tiptoe, but at my call, he launched himself onto the bedding.

　　"Ow!"

　　I clicked my tongue again, looking down at Hamin. He was clutching his forehead, on the verge of tears.

　　"Why is the bed so hard?"

　　"Floor mats are supposed to be firm."

　　The bedding I’d laid out wasn’t exactly thick. At my words, Hamin pressed down on the mat in a few places, stuck out his lower lip, and shot me a sulky glare. A moment later, his expression smoothed out. He lay down and pulled the blanket over himself.

　　"Uncle, sleep next to me."

　　"Uncle?"

　　"Yeah."

　　Tch. I could let the casual speech slide, but "Uncle"?

　　"Don’t call me Uncle…"

　　Don’t call me… wait, what was I supposed to have him call me instead? There was almost a twenty-year age gap between us, so "Hyung" would be weird, and "Mr. Dohyun" sounded too formal. "Mister" just felt depressing.

　　"Then… what?"

　　Judging by those eyes sparkling with expectation, Hamin clearly planned on sticking around and calling me something for a long time. Would his real uncle even allow that? I gave a wry smile and ruffled his hair. Whatever. I was only going to see the kid for a few days anyway. What did it matter what he called me?

　　"Forget it. Just call me Uncle."

　　"Okay."

　　Hamin nodded, fiddled with the towel I’d folded into a makeshift pillow, and rolled over to face me.

　　"Uncle, you know, this is a secret…"

　　"You’re not supposed to just go around telling secrets."

　　At that, Hamin snapped his mouth shut. Then, with a look of wonder, he ran his hands over his own foot.

　　"Then, um, I’m curious about something… How did you do this?"

　　"It’s my skill."

　　"What kind of skill is it?"

　　He kept chattering on and on, but at some point, his words began to slow, and soon enough, he was fast asleep. Even then, he wouldn’t let go of my hoodie, his little fist clenched tight in the fabric. I slipped the garment off and draped it over his stomach.

　　I was about to tidy up the place a bit when my phone rang. It was the association president.

　　—"Hey, Dohyun. We’ve had a dungeon break. Not right now, but could you come in for a bit tomorrow morning? We need help searching for missing people."

　　"Tomorrow?"

　　I looked over at Hamin and hesitated. I needed the money, so I should go, but I couldn’t exactly leave him alone for long.

　　Hamin was sleeping soundly, and from his fingertips, morning glory vines had sprouted, wrapping tightly around my ankle. I stared between the sleeping boy and the vines in silence for a moment, then let out a heavy sigh.

　　"Um, would it… be okay if I brought a kid along?"

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