That evening, all the S-rank hunters of Seoul gathered at a cozy little café. The occasion? A celebration in my honor.
But truth be told, most of them just came to drink.
There were six hunters besides me — the last of us still alive after Death Icon's bloody onslaught.
As I arrived at the café, Minho greeted me warmly at the entrance.
"Finally, you're here. Come on, the others have been waiting."
A cigarette dangled between his fingers. As we stepped inside, he stubbed it out and tossed it into the trash.
My eyes fell on a long table, filled with plates of meat, steaming dishes, and tall mugs of beer. It was the first time all the S-ranks had gathered in weeks.
"Oh, look who it is — Kihyun!" a black-haired woman called out cheerfully. "Come on, sit down and dig in."
"Miss Hwan. Glad to see you safe and sound."
"No need for the formalities."