The S-Classes That I Raised-Chapter 635: Children (4)

“Hi! Mister SF!”

P the paparazzo called cheerfully. I’d almost forgotten that nickname. Perhaps because we were inside the Hunter Association, P wasn’t wearing his mask. His newly dyed bright blond hair and blue eyes looked oddly fitting—he was more handsome than I remembered.

“I was so worried!”

As P reached out for a handshake, Yuhyun turned to me as if to ask who this was. Since he was a high-rank Hunter, feigning ignorance would get me blocked and thrown out—P had helped me enough so far.

“It’s been a while.”

“I was shocked when the Times cover star—the party champion—disappeared without warning.”

Thank heavens I’d fallen in Africa. A cover? I’d die of embarrassment just imagining it. P leaned toward me and whispered so softly even Yuhyun beside me could barely hear.

“I’ve got something delivered for you.”

“Huh?”

“From Switzerland.”

Switzerland? What... oh no—surely not!

“A watch?”

The custom order had finally arrived. My birthday had already passed! What to do—give it as a Lunar New Year gift? Watches seemed odd for holidays. The next anniversary was Yuhyun’s graduation or enrollment, still far off... not Valentine’s, not Independence Movement Day, not White Day... Children’s Day? If not his birthday, then New Year seemed best.

“This isn’t something you’d pick up here.”

P whispered again. Too soon for others to know.

“Give me a moment to talk with him, will you?”

“...Who is he?”

Yuhyun eyed P suspiciously; P recoiled one step.

“Uh, a postman whose hobby is photography.”

“Don’t ring the bell more than twice.”

What nonsense. I threatened to shout if anything happened and moved aside with P. He pulled two boxes from his inventory and set them on the table.

“Your ordered watches have arrived. Please sign here.”

“These must be A-rank or above—do you do odd jobs like this?”

“I agreed since it was SF delivery. I was already en route to meet you. Normally a mid-rank awakener would handle this.”

I took the pen and signed. The boxes looked luxurious: one black, one deep blue. As inventory items, they had no extra packaging. P said the certificates were inside.

I opened the blue box first. The weighty, clear-blue dial caught my eye. The hands, numerals, and bezel were silver, decorated with delicate craftsmanship. Even I, unfamiliar with watches, knew this was no ordinary piece. The strap was leather, a dark blue almost black—surely it would gleam bright blue in sunlight.

‘This will suit Yuhyun perfectly.’

I felt greatly satisfied—the expense was worth it. I stored the blue box in inventory, then hesitated as I opened the black box. The design matched, but the dial was deep black, swallowing all light, framed in silver that looked paler against the dark face. Though the metal was the same, it felt more ghostly than the blue one.

The contrast tugged at my emotions too. The strap was simply black—so dark I almost felt guilty. Maybe I should have chosen a lighter shade. Or ordered two identical ones.

“Is something wrong?”

“...Nothing.”

Still, the black watch was beautiful. I closed its box and stored it. Someday I’d deliver both—definitely.

“Thanks for bringing these.”

“Anytime!”

“So, what brings you here? A cover shoot for the Times?”

I didn’t feel like it, but after delivering watches... still, my formal wear was ruined.

“Oh, you blushed—guess you liked the idea?”

“No! You came all this way! Of course I hate it!”

What do you mean hate it—I was mortified people carried around publications with my face! P winked one eye, smiling.

“I came more to see you than for business.”

Ugh, what was that? That feel-good movie hero vibe—donut and coffee in hand.

“I expected a nice surprise, but you really outdid yourself!”

“Well... I’m sure you couldn’t have imagined it.”

“More than that, your memories before the reset—”

I felt bad for bringing it up so lightly, P said. He seemed to know exactly what had changed.

“You were S-rank?”

“Specialized in stealth, so most saw me as A-rank. But those memories formed the ground for many changes.”

“...I thought you only vaguely remembered a few A-rank events and almost nothing below that.”

“But the feelings remained.”

I recalled what Ruga said: even if memories were erased, people had already changed and would continue to change.

“Actually, as the party winner, Han Yujin is a special F-rank. People’s views on low-rank Hunters will shift somewhat. Yet many will still think, ‘He has a special skill and an S-rank brother, so calling him a mere F-rank is an insult to skill alone.’”

“Honestly, that’s true. With a special skill and an S-rank sibling, claiming I’m a normal F-rank would be misleading.”

“Yet pre-reset you really were an ordinary F-rank Hunter.”

Pre-reset me was just another low-rank Hunter. My brother, still an S-rank, had suffered even more because of it.

“And you still reached this point.”

P’s voice and eyes softened. His gaze itched at my insides.

“I feel bad for using Han Yujin’s painful past this way—”

“No, most have forgotten it anyway.”

If they all remembered, I’d have truly run away—changed my face, lived under another name. At least only a few knew.

“Even if an ordinary success story seems predictable, it still brings hope and comfort. With those feelings intact, people will support better causes. Elections are image contests for a reason—emotions matter even more today. Try campaigning for low-rank Hunter welfare now, you’d get more backing than before.”

So P said my achievements were truly remarkable.

“...Honestly, I only did it to survive. I never intended to help others so far... Paparazzo, you’re a high-rank Hunter yet help low-rank ones—that’s even greater.”

I’m not that big-hearted. True greatness lies with people like Hyunah.

“There are many who help strangers beyond paparazzo. I don’t think I could manage that, so I feel a bit guilty.”

“Thank you.”

P smiled lightly.

“And even if others don’t, for me your thought is enough. Often a small number achieve greatness. But deeds for the world mean nothing without the world and its people to enjoy them.”

“Uh... I suppose.”

“So I believe ordinary folks needn’t feel indebted. Just being grateful and supportive is enough. Showing it publicly helps too—no need for financial support; nowadays it’s easy to express. A few clicks or taps—done.”

Helping others has become easier, P flicked his fingertip.

“You don’t even need to seek them out; you can say kind words tons. Though words can also harm.”

“That’s true, unfortunately.”

“But there are still more good people than bad. Living without harming others or placing a single dollar in a donation hotline makes you good. And SF, you’re a good person too!”

P tapped me on the shoulder. He was a better man than I’d remembered. Even if many high-rank Hunters were prickly, at least people like him existed. I looked at P and spoke.

“I’m planning an educational facility for awakeners.”

“Awakeners? That sounds... risky.”

“From kindergarten through high school. Even for awakeners, it won’t be a Hunter academy—just an ordinary school.”

“That’s tougher than it sounds. We also focus on protecting young awakeners—if you say you’ll shelter minors en masse, people will think you’re training a powerful force, like a special unit.”

“Indeed.”

They’d suspect I intended to exploit the kids.

“But it’s needed. Particularly mid- to high-grade awakeners are beyond normal parents’ ability. So it’s best I do it—we’re F-rank in stats and already run a breeding ground.”

If I were S-rank in everything, they’d feel more threatened. But F-rank means they believe you could be cut down if needed. Plus, I already rear high-rank monsters, so adding awakened youth changes little. A new nuclear state feels scarier than one that already has nukes gaining another.

P stroked his chin, looking at me.

“Because of the Sesung Guildmaster’s son?”

“That’s a rumor—and I trust you’ll keep it secret.”

“Can’t do this without a sealed mouth.”

“I have two kids too—both awakeners, looking like me and my brother. They resemble me so much I can’t hide it; soon people will know.”

“Wow—awakeners aren’t babies, huh? Interesting.”

...Gulp. If the Black Dragon is six and I’m twenty-six... factoring in pregnancy, I’d have been a teenager. And two babies close together.

“I honestly thought you’d never been in a relationship!”

...Pointedly sharp. P laughed heartily and patted my back.

“With three little ones on the way, you must do it. Let me know if I can help. A proper protective educational facility—those of us who rescue and protect young awakeners will welcome it. They say the Sesung Guildmaster has helped with that too.”

“The Sesung Guildmaster?”

I knew he traveled abroad, but did he volunteer too?

“His reputation is complicated. He’s someone you wouldn’t want to cross, yet he quietly grants help requests. It’s not so much doing good as doing what he feels is logical.”

“Rescuing kids is only logical.”

“True—but it’s like the shepherd who rescues a lamb taken by a wolf. A duty-bound attitude, they say.”

That suited Seong Hyunjae—less moral altruism, more wanting those lambs within his vast enclosure.

“There are prospective students overseas by the bucketful. If you’d like, I can introduce people who might cooperate.”

“Thank you.”

“Thanks? It’s a good cause. Now, shall we take a photo?”

A camera materialized like magic. Wait—

“Here, now?”

“Something candid. And you’re Korean, so ‘Kimchi’!”

“Hold on—hold on!”

I pulled a mirror from inventory to check my face—no smudges, but my hair was a mess! P urged, offering light retouching if I cared.

“Just wash your face first! Ack! Don’t take it yet!”

Clang!

“Brother?!”

My scream sent Yuhyun and Peace bursting through the door. Yerim, Director Song, and Noah peered in. Gyeol flew to me from beside Yerim.

“No, I’m fine. I only wanted to wash up before the photo...”

“Here, Mister.”

Yerim summoned a water orb at once. Thanks. P studied the fairy dragon on my shoulder and said,

“That must be the Sesung heir?”

“He’s not!”

“I’m his son!”

Gyeol shouted, then glanced at me for approval. I nodded, and he transformed into his child form, hopping down.

“Like Riette’s siblings’ skill, I see. Hello.”

“Hello, I’m Han-gyeol. My family name is Han, my given name Gyeol.”

Gyeol bowed politely. So sweet.

“Shall we write an article? I have a talented writer friend.”

“Gyeol, what do you think?”

“I’m fine with it. If I’m called Dad’s son, I like that.”

The rumors had spread enough. Announcing I’d taken him in now seemed fine.

“Okay—one shot human form, one as dragon. Say ‘He was entrusted because of his monster form skill,’ right?”

“Yes. Please note my rank is low—no special abilities, as seen at the party.”

Being top-rank would draw too much attention.

“I’d planned he remain a young monster until older, but with the kindergarten decision, we’re revealing it. Just handle the kindergarten’s description vaguely for now.”

“Got it. So the story: he was first sent to the Sesung Guild relative, then to Monster Breeder Han Yujin. Right?”

“Yes.”

“So his original name was Seong-gyeol?”

“I said he’s a relative! He was Han-gyeol from the start.”

Why assume the same surname? People take maternal names too.

“He’s always been Han-gyeol.”

We took the photos; P slipped the camera away and whispered,

“The ‘hidden child of the Sesung Guildmaster’ angle is still trending.”

Hm... can’t help that. Even with denials and DNA tests, that rumor’s more intriguing. And it’s useful—harder to challenge than ‘my child.’ Gyeol might hate it, but it’ll help with the kindergarten and beyond. A strong background is reassuring.

“I’ll give you a great article,” P said as he left.

“You should start the kindergarten construction ASAP. And...”

He looked at Yuhyun and Yerim.

“I’m thinking of moving. Continue using this house and ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) build a new one near the Gyeonggi breeding ground.”

“To Gyeonggi?”

“Yeah. Awakeners’ schools risk being treated as quarantine facilities.”

I hugged Gyeol. That was true—people see dangerous beings and fear them. Director Song nodded gravely.

“In Seoul, especially where the Haeyeon Guild is, getting permission is nearly impossible.”

“Right. That’s why near the breeding ground. There’s also a high-rank Hunter training facility, so it seems safer.”

“Wherever you are, I’m fine with it.”

“But it’d be inconvenient for work.”

“With Peace, it’s okay.”

“Me too—I have flight skill and Blue. Blue is really fast.”

“And I,” Noah said, smiling, “will stay in the building. Yujin would want it too.”

“If it’s because of me...”

“No. And I can’t stay alone forever. Marcel’s coming to Korea too.”

Noah said he’d visit often.

“I have to commute anyway. The breeding ground stays.”

This floor wouldn’t suffice; we’d build larger. And the school, the kids... Construction would take months—future plans loomed large yet felt near. Though uncertain, I felt it would be fine. My heart fluttered at the thought.