The S-Classes That I Raised - Chapter 530: Before the Party (3)

“Ugh… I’m exhausted.”

As soon as I stepped into the lounge, I flopped full-length across the sofa. Gyeol and Peace came over to ask if I was okay. Of course, Peace only whimpered. I told them I was fine, grabbed a cushion to rest my head on, rolled onto my side, and closed my eyes.

“I feel a bit deflated.”

I’d tried to prepare, but there were few moments where I could jump in. Our lawyers had spoken to me gently, but theirs showed no such courtesy. They’d even lobbed documents at me in perfect English. They did give me translations afterward, but by the time I found the right file, I’d missed the moment I needed it.

By contrast, their lawyers read Korean instantly—why didn’t they just use Korean? Of course, they wouldn’t willingly give up any advantage.

“Daddy, are you really tired?”

“Whiayk.”

“No—it’s just… the world of specialists really is different.”

The basic bar felt so much higher. Team Leader Kim had told me not to worry, since she’d hired lawyers precisely for this. But of course specialists are specialists; if you took them out of their field, they’d stumble like the rest of us.

Still, I thought maybe I should learn English. Or just cling to Myung-woo and the rookie—it’d be quicker that way… Why don’t people speak the same language? In this global age, can’t we unify language? In Korean.

“You have a bit of a fever.”

The fairy dragon gently touched my forehead with his tiny hand.

“You’ve been under stress all day. You’ll be fine.”

How many hours had I been stuck in that room? We’d started in the morning, and now it was evening—and it wasn’t even over yet. No wonder they called it a test of endurance. After lunch, my brain barely functioned from fatigue. They’d told me to rest first—finish up and pick things up again tomorrow.

Was this insane? How many pages did they need for such a not-very-long chapter? They might as well have printed a thousand-page book from a single sheet. Lawyers are terrifying. A fear no amount of mental resistance helps.

Gyeol, who’d been watching over me, picked up a phone from the table. I’d gotten him his own device, folded for use even in fairy-dragon form, since Peace had one too. Gyeol opened it halfway, propped it up on the table, and started tapping away with ease.

“That bad guy’s being exiled today.”

“I told you, no web browsing if possible.”

“It was the headline.”

Maybe I should have disabled his internet too—unlike Peace, Gyeol can read Korean. I pulled out my phone and reviewed the organized file. There’d been lengthy debate over compensation, and many clauses had been added.

‘No direct demands for participant sacrifice.’

That was new, proposed by Seong Hyun-jae and Noah. Meaning, you can’t engineer a scenario like “one participant must die to succeed.” In such a situation, the weakest—an F-rank—would suffer most, so the clause effectively protected me.

And another:

‘No disadvantaging participants by majority vote.’

That was also crucial for me. Among the participants were my allies—but imagine a viewer poll to pick someone for punishment… the thought alone brought tears.

‘I’m so glad I left this to the lawyers.’

Had I not, I’d have been shredded from the opening bell. Still, they warned me not to relax, since people will keep probing legal loopholes—they say it’s easier to break through them than to plug them.

Just then the door opened and Seong Hyun-jae walked in. His hair was neatly tied back, he wore glasses, and a far more subdued suit than usual—he looked less like a guildmaster and more like a corporate lawyer. Atmosphere matters in situations like this. It’d be easy to intimidate with S-rank presence, but that was, of course, forbidden.

“Totally, um… what is this.”

—“You look like a nerd.”

Gyeol snorted. Where did he pick up that word?

“You still look pale.”

As Seong Hyun-jae approached, Gyeol snapped his phone shut and stood guard in front of me. Peace, who’d been curled under the sofa, lifted his head.

—“Peace, attack!”

—“Grrr.”

Peace glared at Seong Hyun-jae—but, of course, he didn’t bite.

“A little sugar might [N O V E L I G H T] help.”

Seong Hyun-jae offered a box. He couldn’t have run out and back—someone must have brought it. Gyeol frowned but I coaxed him as I opened the box to reveal rows of pretty, colorful macarons.

“Here, Gyeol.”

—“Gyeol isn’t fooled by treats. But since Dad gave it, I’ll eat it.”

Gyeol accepted a mint-green macaron coolly. Sweet things hit the spot when you’re tired. Seong Hyun-jae sat beside me, removed his glasses—he didn’t need them for poor vision, unlike Noah; his eyes were sharp. He doesn’t usually wear them, but today he’d been reading tiny print all day.

Thanks to him, everyone wore glasses today: Noah, Song, Hyun-ah—glasses make fine reading easier. I guess Yuhyun has a pair too—I should buy one for Yerim. Then she’d study all day in high school—well, maybe not, but.

“I wanted also to limit indirect demands for sacrifice.”

“That would be too broad. If you put two cookies in front of two people, you could call it an indirect sacrifice demand.”

“Normally each would take one—but Han Yujin wouldn’t.”

“I would, though.”

“If eating cookies raises your stats, and if either Master Yuhyun or Miss Yerim is beside you?”

“Well… letting them eat is the longer-term gain.”

Exactly. Rather than boost my stats to E- or D-rank, it’s far better to help Yuhyun or Yerim become SS-rank. Seong Hyun-jae smirked, looking at me. But it’s truly a rational decision.

“Especially since you bear that mark on your neck.”

I reflexively touched my throat. The bruise still showed clearly; I’d proudly displayed it to Chatterbox’s delegates as proof of my harm.

“…They kept nagging me about this all day, you know.”

“Still, Han Yujin would act the same in the same situation.”

“But really, it was a good opportunity. Not dangerous, either.”

—“…Daddy, don’t speak up for him.”

Gyeol pouted as Seong Hyun-jae wore his infuriatingly benevolent expression.

“Seong-han—”

—“Aaaargh! Ack! Ack! Ack!”

Gyeol flung half a macaron at Seong Hyun-jae with all his strength. Seong Hyun-jae caught it lightly, then offered it back with kindness. The fairy dragon recoiled and scurried to my shoulder.

“Stop teasing me.”

“I’m being kind—even accepted a small payment. As my teammate.”

I heard Gyeol’s wounded grumble. Dear me.

“I haven’t approved you as guardian,” I said, “so Gyeol doesn’t have to come.”

Chatterbox wasn’t as benign as the King of the Harmless, but you never knew—some might be curious about a fairy dragon. Gyeol even contributed to the Harmless King’s death… I’d have liked to forbid him, but Gyeol’s stubborn. Especially if I go alone, he must come too.

At first he’d insisted on coming as a pet monster, not a teammate—but the one-invite-per-species rule made that impossible.

“Director Han, are you alright?”

The door opened again as Moon Hyun-ah, then Song Taewon, entered the lounge.

“What about Noah?”

“They’re seeing Chatterbox’s agents off. They said they’re better at it than Director Song, so they took over.”

Noah had truly excelled today—France’s Hunter laws are similar to Anglo-American ones, and as deputy guildmaster, Riette often tangled with legal matters. Among domestic Hunters, few knew that world’s law as well as Seong Hyun-jae.

Riette… I doubt she’d have settled things legally, so Noah must’ve worked hard.

“What did Seong Hyun-jae say to puff up our little dragon’s cheeks?” Moon Hyun-ah asked.

“He was proposing to Director Han.”

“Hyung, if you cross a decade’s age gap you’re a jerk.”

Moon Hyun-ah laughed and sat beside me.

“Of course, ‘woof-woof,’ right? And I’m thirty.”

“Really? You like younger?”

I blinked at Hyun-ah. Those smiling eyes looking down at me—‘younger’… since I’m thirty now… My neck felt like it was on fire.

“Seriously, stop teasing me.”

“Don’t want to?”

“I don’t… Well, anyway. Really, no more.”

I know it’s a joke, but it’s hazardous to my heartbeat. If Hyun-ah really looked at me like that and said she preferred younger…

“By the way, Director Song knows foreign Hunter law very well—I was surprised.”

“…I needed to,” Song Taewon sighed. Must be thanks to Seong Hyun-jae. Hyun-jae praised how capable Song was, pretending he knew nothing—as Moon Hyun-ah cackled.

“Song went through hell when Seong Hyun-jae started causing trouble overseas. I even put him on my private jet once.”

“You did?”

“I happened to go abroad then. If Seong Hyun-jae acted alone, what could bureaucrats or Association staff do? That was all on Song. He was adorable then—even looked like a lost child briefly.”

I felt sorry for Song—he must have been completely at sea the first time he went abroad because of Seong Hyun-jae’s antics.

“Hyun-ah, you speak English well, too.”

Yuhyun had gone into the postponed dungeon run, so Yerim and I were to accompany Noah—but Yerim begged Hyun-ah: “Sister, let me clear the dungeon instead!” and entrusted me to Hyun-ah’s care.

“Believe it or not, I had invitations overseas even before awakening.”

“…Should I study seriously, too?”

“There’s no harm in it. But for now, you can rely on others. Do go to university, though.”

Moon Hyun-ah spoke earnestly.

“It’ll really be better for you. If the party goes badly, you can delay; if you think you won’t get flak, you must go.”

She draped an arm around my shoulder.

“No one’s perfect, but it’s better to have fewer weaknesses. Eliminate what you can.”

“That’ll sound like a privileged advantage.”

“Just briefly. And you deserve it.”

I suppose… should I actually go? There’s still time before next year, but already my stomach churned. When’s the university entrance ceremony? The CSAT is over—applications are probably underway. I heard early admissions are big now—but since Yuhyun awakened before senior year, I didn’t know the details.

Noah returned to the lounge then.

“Noah, thank you for your hard work.”

“Not at all. You did well today, Han Yujin.”

Noah, too, wore a crisp suit—so fitting, like nobility. Yet at the negotiation table he was razor-sharp. I found myself grateful he was at the nursery.

If I go to university, would I be a classmate of Noah’s?

“The party schedule will be announced in three days, so please prepare thoroughly,” Song Taewon said to us.

“And the location will be revealed tomorrow.”

We’d heard this through our agents first: Chatterbox’s party would begin in the United States. Given his American ties, it made sense—but truly America, of all places.

“Hunter Seong Hyun-jae, will Hunter Riette attend?”

“They will. An SS-rank bow is at stake.”

“Director Song, will you allow it? It’s far off in America.”

“With Hunter Yun-yun involved, it should be fine.”

“Oh, right.”

Even from the U.S., one could dash to Korea if needed. Yun-yun would have to go to America at least once. None of us had been there before—my first time too.

A bit more discussion followed, and we decided to rest early tonight for tomorrow’s negotiation.

And three days later, Chatterbox’s party schedule was unveiled.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by readnovel.co