System Mission: Seduce the Strongest S-Class Hunters or Die Trying!-Chapter 79: [HANDSOME!]

Ding.

’Huh?’

Eli’s breath hitched. He didn’t even get the chance to process Caelen loudly calling him sweetheart in front of half the damn Hunter’s Association before the blue screen exploded into his vision.

[SYSTEM MISSION – ACTIVE]

Task Name: Compliments, Compliments, Compliments!

Objective: Call Target [CAELEN] handsome 5 times.

⚠︎ Failure to complete will result in punishment.

Eli’s eyes nearly bulged out of his sockets, pupils darting frantically across the glowing text.

’You have GOT to be kidding me! This is a serious meeting—THE serious meeting! And you want me to—?!’

The screen flickered once, impatient, before vanishing into the corner of his sight.

And then Caelen was there.

The air shifted with him, his footsteps smooth, his smirk carrying just enough arrogance to draw every eye in the lobby. His dark brown hair caught the ceiling lights, making him look like he’d stepped out of some curated painting.

"No need to look so surprised, Eli," Caelen murmured as he stopped directly in front of him, the faintest curve of his lips sharpening into something smug. "Though I can understand why."

The system window faded completely. It didn’t need to linger. The mission was clear.

Eli tilted his head up, throat working. And okay—fine.

He didn’t know if the system was brainwashing him or if it was just cruel timing, but in all fairness... Caelen did look good.

The dark grey coat draped over broad shoulders. The fitted black turtleneck underneath, sleek and refined. The way his presence swallowed the hall without him even trying.

Handsome. Infuriatingly, undeniably handsome.

But telling him that? In public? With witnesses?

’This cocky bastard will NEVER let me live it down.’

"I–I’m not surprised, just..." Eli stammered, face heating up as his chest squeezed painfully. He could already feel the system breathing down his neck like a loaded gun.

Caelen tilted his head, amusement glittering in his molten eyes. "Just?"

Eli’s jaw clenched. His pride screamed at him not to say it. His survival instinct begged otherwise. His gaze darted over Caelen’s coat, stalling for time, and then—

"You look very..." Eli swallowed hard, his voice cracking. "...very handsome."

The word burned on his tongue like poison.

Caelen’s smirk widened instantly, sharp enough to cut.

"My, how kind of you," he drawled, his gaze flicking deliberately to the side. "Isn’t he just so kind, Lawrence?"

Eli froze, dread curdling in his stomach.

Because he’d completely forgotten that Lawrence—Midas Ryu’s secretary, who had been standing just behind him this whole time—had witnessed every humiliating syllable.

"Indeed," Lawrence replied smoothly, adjusting his glasses with no change in expression.

Eli wanted to crawl under the marble floor and die. His whole body was stiff, his ears ringing from humiliation.

’I can’t do this again.’

But Caelen wasn’t about to let him off the hook.

That smirk of his curved higher, sharp as a blade, merciless in its amusement. He angled his head toward Lawrence, his voice low, smooth, deliberate—each word dragged out like silk meant to strangle.

"Did you know, Lawrence," Caelen drawled, every syllable heavy with mockery, "Eli here is actually a fan of mine? He told me that himself."

Eli’s heart lurched. His head snapped toward Caelen so fast his neck nearly cracked.

’WHY IS HE TELLING HIM THIS INFORMATION?!’

Heat surged up his throat, his pulse pounding so loud he swore the whole lobby could hear it.

Lawrence, damn him, didn’t even flinch. He didn’t raise a brow, didn’t look remotely surprised. He only adjusted his glasses in a smooth motion, his face a calm mask of professional courtesy.

"No, I did not know that," Lawrence said evenly, his tone perfectly polite.

That was it. No ridicule. No mockery. Just that flat calm—and somehow, it made Eli want to scream even more.

The marble beneath his shoes suddenly looked like the perfect grave. ’Please. Just split open. Right now. Swallow me whole.’

His face was burning, red creeping down his neck and all the way to his ears. He could feel it. Everyone in the room could probably see it.

"I—I never—!" Eli sputtered, his voice cracking halfway, betraying him further.

He bit down hard on his tongue, the rest of the words choking in his throat before he made it even worse.

But Caelen... Caelen was watching him like a cat with its paw pressed against a trembling mouse. His molten gaze cut down, gleaming with wicked delight, his smirk sharp enough to draw blood.

He didn’t need to say a single word.

His expression alone screamed it: Dance for me. Squirm.

’I swear this man... he’s worse out here than in the dungeon!’ Eli’s chest rose and fell, his hands curling tight at his sides as he scrambled desperately for an escape.

"M–Mr. Midas might be waiting..." Eli blurted finally, clinging to the words like a lifeline, his voice cracking again on the name.

For once—mercifully—Caelen relented. His laugh was low, curling in his throat like smoke.

"Mm. You’re right." His smirk didn’t vanish, but it softened, folding into something that looked charming to everyone else—but Eli knew better. It was the same smirk wolves wore before they chased.

Caelen took a single step back, giving Eli a fraction of space, and gestured lazily toward the hall with a flick of his hand.

"We shouldn’t keep him waiting. Let’s go up."

Relief punched out of Eli in a shaky exhale. His shoulders dropped ever so slightly, his chest loosening just enough to breathe again.

’Thank God.’

But the relief lasted all of three seconds.

The system’s notification still glowed faintly in the corner of his vision, mocking him with merciless clarity.

[Objective Remaining: 4 compliments]

’Four more times. I still have to call him handsome four more freaking times.’ Eli’s stomach dropped, his skin prickling with cold sweat. ’How the hell am I supposed to survive this?!’

And then—Caelen glanced sidelong at him while walking ahead, eyes glinting as if he already knew.

As if he could smell Eli’s panic.

The thought clawed through him as they approached a set of sleek, futuristic elevator doors, polished steel reflecting their silhouettes.

The gilded trim gleamed faintly under the lobby lights, a statement of wealth and power so blatant it almost hurt to look at.

The doors parted with a soft hiss, revealing an interior of chrome and glass panels, accented with soft golden light. The floor glowed faintly beneath their shoes, as though even standing here was a privilege.

Eli stepped inside, nerves were off the roof. The moment the doors sealed shut, silence wrapped around them—too sharp, too close.

Caelen glanced down at him, the gleam of mischief still lingering at the corner of his lips. "Are you nervous?"

Eli’s throat bobbed. "...Yes." He hesitated, then turned the question back in a whisper. "Aren’t you?"

"Of course not," Caelen replied easily, tilting his head back against the glass with practiced nonchalance. "I’ve met Midas Ryu more times than I can count."

Eli blinked at him, chest tightening. "And you’re not worried at all?"

"Not in the slightest." Caelen’s tone softened—not kind, not exactly, but steady. "Don’t overthink it. He just wants both our statements regarding the dungeon. What we saw, what we noticed. The Association is still investigating how an A-Class gate suddenly spiked to S-Class."

Eli nodded faintly, but his stomach still twisted.

’An E-Class turned B-Class meeting a person who usually only meets with S-Class hunters? How can I act like this is okay...’