Regression Guidelines for the Supporting Character — Chapter 138 read online

"...Hunter Seohu."

A faint voice brushed my ears.

"Hunter Cha Seohu."

A low and quiet voice calling my name. My foggy consciousness slowly surfaced from sleep.

"Haa..."

This is insane.

The speaker sighed and muttered under their breath. The moment I heard it, I realized who the voice belonged to.

'Sunghyun hyung?'

Sensing that Ryu Sunghyun wasn't in a particularly good mood, I immediately opened my eyes. A blurry ceiling came into view.

Then a wave of searing heat swept up the back of my neck as if I were on fire, and a pounding headache exploded through my skull. A large hand approached my furrowed brow and gently brushed across my forehead.

"Are you awake?"

"Yes, I... urgh—"

I tried to answer reflexively but clamped my mouth shut from the sharp, blade-like pain in my throat.

Seeing me touch my neck and try to sit up, Ryu Sunghyun, seated beside the bed, let out another heavy sigh.

"Don't get up. You've got a high fever."

"A fever..."

"It's best if you don't speak at all."

My voice came out harsh and broken. The pain gripping my head and throat remained relentless.

Honestly, my body's response was so obvious that it left no room for denial. I thought to myself, a little bitterly:

'A cold.'

And a nasty one at that. My throat was swollen, my body trembling with chills, and I had no strength whatsoever.

It had been a while since I'd caught such a bad cold.

Then again, after spending an entire day wandering through a snow-covered mountain, it would've been stranger not to fall sick. Still, with a few days of rest and some medicine, I'd recover, so I wasn't too worried.

"Vi... Vice Guildmaster."

"Don't strain your throat."

After watching me cough for a moment, Ryu Sunghyun pulled something from his inventory—a pen and a small notepad.

He had always been a bit old-fashioned. Even before, he preferred writing things down by hand rather than using his phone. The design of the notepad looked familiar—it was probably the same one I'd seen before the regression.

Seeing it now, unexpectedly, stirred something strange in me.

'Back then, he used to read aloud the notes he wrote on the first few pages... and told me all sorts of things.'

Some entries were as personal as a diary. I'd found it touching and oddly comforting that he shared them with me so openly.

Unaware of my sentimental gaze, Ryu Sunghyun handed me the pen and notepad.

"Write down what you want to say."

"Ah, tha—cough!"

I quickly stopped myself mid-sentence, but a coughing fit burst out instead. I pulled my sleeve over my mouth to stifle it.

'I need to be careful.'

Even though S-ranks don't easily catch colds, no Hunter is completely immune. Breathing viruses directly at someone from this close would do no good. At the very least, it was common courtesy to cover my mouth.

I turned away and finished coughing, then picked up the pen.

Leaning back against the bed's headboard made it easier to write. Of course, easier didn't mean legible.

When I finished scribbling and showed it to Ryu Sunghyun, he gave me a complicated look.

"...Your handwriting is... well, pretty..."

Did I scribble too wildly?

Yes. I had awful handwriting. I rarely ever used a pen, and I was always in too much of a hurry to write neatly.

But communication was the goal now, so I did my best to make it readable.

I had the urge to write "Is this good?" as "iz dis gud?" like a casual chat message, but I held back. I didn't want Sunghyun hyung thinking I was some idiot who didn't know how to spell.

"Yes. First, let's assess your condition. Your forehead was burning earlier—how about the rest of your body?"

I spaced the sentences and continued on the next line for readability.

It felt like a bit too much detail, so I added a light touch at the end:

<ᅮ^ᅮ>

Ryu Sunghyun glanced over the entire note, from the first line to the final emoticon, and let out a quiet cough. His eyes seemed to flicker slightly when he reached the emoticon.

"Yes, that does sound like a cold. Please wait. I'll go ask the caretaker if he has any medicine, and maybe something suitable for breakfast too."

"Ah—"

I tugged on his sleeve just as he started to stand. As he looked at me questioningly, I shook my head and began writing again.

I was too frustrated to keep worrying about proper spelling.

Whatever. My image with him was already rock bottom anyway. What did it matter now?

<٩(°̀ᗝ°́)و>

"No, that's..."

"...Hunter Cha Seohu. You're not acting—you're actually sick."

<ᄋᄉᄋ;>

Classic hyung. Sharp as ever.

I turned to a new page and wrote again.

<You'll do it, right?>

"...Sigh. Fine. But don't talk—your throat's swollen. And don't {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} overact. Honestly, you already look plenty sick."

I wrote my reply in the notebook and smiled brightly to reassure him.

<ᕙ(>◡<)ᕗ>

Ryu Sunghyun sighed for the third time after seeing my cheerful grin and the note.

Why?

Creak, clack.

Stepping into the hallway and closing the door, Ryu Sunghyun pressed his fingers against his furrowed brow.

'This feels wrong...'

Cha Seohu's flushed face lingered in his mind.

His skin, especially around the cheeks, was visibly red—clearly a symptom of fever. His forehead had been burning when he checked earlier. He needed food and fever medicine and then complete rest.

'And yet he's still focused on that damn plan.'

Using someone this sick to deceive someone else—it made him feel like a scumbag.

But he couldn't bring himself to say no. Not after Seohu smiled so brightly while writing, "This works better now that I'm actually sick!"

Sighing, Ryu Sunghyun finally moved. He had to find the caretaker on the first floor.

Even as he descended the stairs, Cha Seohu's face lingered in his mind.

Truthfully, Ryu Sunghyun had been worried about Seohu's condition since the day before.

After being healed by the healer brought by Kwon Taehyuk, Seohu's pale complexion had recovered slightly—his cheeks took on a healthy hue, and his lips regained some color.

But once they started climbing the mountain, all that color vanished.

Cha Seohu grew paler and paler, eventually sweating from exhaustion. His trembling hands were ice cold when Ryu Sunghyun grabbed them.

Meeting the caretaker and getting into a warm room had been a stroke of luck. If not for that, Seohu might've collapsed without realizing how sick he was.

He headed toward the kitchen, where he sensed someone inside. The caretaker turned around as he approached. Ryu Sunghyun offered a polite bow, as always.

"Good morning."

"Yes. Good morning. Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you. Actually..."

He wanted to remain polite, but there was no time. He swallowed hard and continued.

"The person I came with isn't feeling well. Since you know this place better than I do, I was wondering if you could check if anything's wrong."

"Is their condition serious?"

"They have a high fever and can't move well. Normally, I'd just assume it's a cold—but considering where we are, I'm concerned."

"...I see. I'll take a look."

The extreme cold of Taebaeksan wasn't natural. The caretaker nodded as if he understood.

Together, they climbed the stairs. The cat lying in the living room saw them and let out a soft myaak before trotting after them.

When the door was opened, they found Cha Seohu lying under the covers, the notebook and pen now put away.

'Did his condition get worse?'

Seeing him so limp in bed made Ryu Sunghyun's heart jump.

"Hunter Cha Seohu."

He rushed to the bed, calling Seohu's name—and at that moment...

"Yes..."

A weak voice answered. Seohu stirred slowly, sitting up with effort. The blanket slid off his shoulders.

Just as Ryu Sunghyun was about to ask if he was okay, their eyes met—obsidian black and glassy.

Long lashes trembled beneath tousled hair. His pale face was twisted in pain, and the edges of his eyes were tinged red, as if tears would fall at any moment.

He hadn't expected this kind of frail, precarious atmosphere. Caught off guard, Ryu Sunghyun hesitated. Seohu turned slightly so only he could see and mouthed silently:

'What are you doing?'

The silent urgency in his lips snapped Ryu Sunghyun back to his senses. He awkwardly looked away and spoke.

"The caretaker said he'd examine you, so I brought him."

The caretaker, who had been stunned by how sick Seohu looked, finally stepped into the room. Even while ill, Seohu forced a smile toward him.

"Thank... you... cough... thank you..."

His voice was dry and cracked, probably due to the swollen throat. It sounded so pitiful that anyone would feel sympathy.

'I told him not to speak...'

As Ryu Sunghyun grew frustrated at Seohu's stubbornness, his eyes wandered down to the boy's shirt.

His white shirt was looser than before—two more buttons undone. His clavicles and upper chest were now visible.

Not only that, but a sheen of sweat glistened on the exposed skin.

Ryu Sunghyun was momentarily speechless. What did a gaping shirt have to do with looking sick?

Sure, he was a grown man—it wasn't like showing a bit of chest was scandalous. But still, even knowing that, Ryu Sunghyun couldn't stop himself from acting.

"......?"

He grabbed the fallen blanket and pulled it up, wrapping it snugly around Seohu. The younger man looked confused.

Embarrassed, Ryu Sunghyun murmured an excuse.

"...You looked cold."

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