A Taste of Power

In a softly lit private office, the atmosphere felt unusually intimate.

Books lined the wooden shelves in perfect rows, their spines marked with subjects ranging from modern mana theory to dungeon ecology and hunter psychology.

A sleek digital panel hung on the far wall, displaying live academic updates: class schedules, performance analytics, and news from the Hunter Association's local board.

The decor was minimal but tasteful. Soft white curtains filtered the sunlight, and a potted plant rested quietly near the window, its leaves gently swaying under the hum of the ventilation system.

Taegyun and Anna sat opposite each other at a small desk.

It was the kind commonly found in instructor lounges—a blend of traditional woodgrain with digital interface panels embedded at the edges. There was just enough space to serve a proper lunch for two, yet the distance was close enough that their knees nearly touched beneath the surface.

They were currently eating.

Though… "eating" was a generous term.

Taegyun sat stiffly, a fork held loosely in one hand, the other resting beside his tray. His expression was dazed, eyes flicking between his food and the woman sitting across from him.

His mind was a storm.

He had no clue why Miss Anna had invited him here, of all places. Her private office. For lunch.

He stole another glance at her.

Anna was watching him with a calm smile, head tilted slightly, as though observing a delicate painting. Her lips curved gently, and her eyes glimmered with something unreadable—curiosity, amusement, something softer too.

Then she cleared her throat softly.

"Did you like the lunch?" she asked, her voice low and smooth. "I made it myself, you know."

Her tone was light, but there was a flicker of something behind it. A brief pause in her cadence, a hint of vulnerability—like part of her actually cared what he would say.

Taegyun blinked. "Uh... yeah. I liked it. It's delicious. Way better than what my maid usually makes."

He stabbed another bite with his fork and brought it to his mouth, chewing more eagerly now to back up his words.

It was true.

The food was absurdly good—perfectly seasoned rice, crisp vegetables, tender slices of grilled meat, and a warm soup that seemed to settle right into his bones. It was the kind of meal someone made by hand, not out of habit or duty, but with care.

Love. Thought. Intention.

He swallowed slowly.

'So… her obsession with me really is growing. Since yesterday, it's been getting worse. Even if I refused her, she wouldn't snap. She'd just try again, in another way.'

He stared at the tray for a moment, expression unreadable.

Then a thought surfaced.

Why not ask?

He glanced up again, this time meeting her eyes directly.

With a faint smile and deliberately innocent tone, he tilted his head and asked, "Um… Anna, why did you invite me to lunch here? In your private office?"

For a second, she froze.

Her fingers paused mid-motion, her gaze flicked to his and then away again. A light flush bloomed across her cheeks—soft and unmistakable.

Her lips parted slightly, and then she spoke—quick, unguarded.

"I–I don't know," she stammered.

Taegyun raised a brow, biting back a grin.

"You're lying," he said, his voice calm. "If you didn't know, you wouldn't have made an extra lunch. Not like this. Not with this much care."

He gestured to the tray in front of him.

Anna looked away, clearly caught off guard.

He leaned forward just a little, closing the already narrow space between them. His eyes gleamed with quiet amusement.

"Well?" he asked again, his tone softer this time, lower—more personal.

Anna's lips trembled slightly.

She looked down at her tray, pretending to adjust the napkin, though her fingers fidgeted nervously. Her usual sharp gaze—the one she reserved for troublemakers and lazy answers—had completely vanished. In its place was something soft. Something… exposed.

Taegyun tilted his head, watching her.

Silence stretched between them, broken only by the low hum of the wall screen and the faint ticking of a clock.

Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, she said, "I just… wanted to spend some time with you."

Taegyun's brows lifted slightly.

"That's all?" he asked, voice low and even.

Anna gave a small, breathy laugh, barely audible. "It's not like I have a grand excuse, Taegyun. No hidden agenda. No teacher-to-student lecture waiting in my back pocket. I just… wanted to see you. Without anyone else around."

Her voice faltered near the end. Her fingers curled tightly over the edge of the table.

He studied her, quietly.

This wasn't the composed Miss Anna who strode through halls like they were made for her heels. This wasn't the woman who shut down rowdy boys with a look or silenced gossip with a single word. No. This was something else. This was raw. Vulnerable. And a little dangerous.

How did she suddenly change like this?

"You're really not good at hiding things," he said with a slight grin.

"I never had to," she shot back, her blush deepening. "Until you."

At last, her gaze met his again—clear and unflinching.

Taegyun's heart skipped, just once.

That look…

Desire wrapped in restraint. Longing shackled by lines she knew not to cross. A woman fully aware that what she wanted was wrong, yet wanted it anyway.

"I think about you more than I should," she confessed. "And I hate that I do. But I can't stop."

A beat passed.

She leaned forward slightly, just enough for her perfume to drift across the narrow space—soft vanilla laced with faint jasmine.

"I know you're not some clueless kid," she added. "You knew what you were doing when you looked at me earlier. You knew exactly what that gaze meant."

Taegyun's throat went dry, but he smiled anyway.

"Maybe I did."

Anna's chest rose with a slow inhale, her fingers tightening in her lap.

"Then say something," she murmured, "because if you don't... I might."

Taegyun leaned back just a little, his fingers brushing the edge of the table as he held her gaze.

"You might?" he echoed, voice low.

Anna did not flinch. But the color on her cheeks deepened to a soft, blooming pink.

Her lips parted… then closed again. No words came.

Instead, she looked away, brushing a strand of hair behind one ear, as if that simple motion could erase the confession still lingering between them.

Taegyun's smirk softened.

He picked up his fork and took another bite of the lunch she had prepared, chewing slowly, letting the silence stretch, giving her space to breathe.

He could still feel the warmth coming off her across the table.

He could feel something else too. Something more dangerous. A string pulled taut between them, humming with quiet tension.

"You know," he said casually, "this lunch is going to ruin everything else I eat for the rest of the week. It's unfair."

That made Anna blink. Then, unexpectedly, she let out a small, surprised laugh. "That's the most polite way you've ever dodged a serious conversation."

"Polite?" Taegyun shrugged. "I'm trying."

She smiled. It was not wide. Not radiant. But it was real.

They both returned to their food. Quiet now, but no longer awkward. The tension had shifted. It settled into something warmer. More bearable.

Taegyun knew where the line was. And he had no intention of crossing it.

At least, not yet.

When they finished, he placed his spoon down neatly on the tray and stood up, brushing invisible crumbs from his uniform.

"Well… thank you," he said with a light nod. "For the food. And the… honesty."

Anna rose as well, but didn't meet his eyes immediately. She walked to the small cabinet by her desk, setting their empty dishes inside. Her back remained turned.

"You're welcome," she said.

Her tone was even, but her fingers lingered just a moment too long on the edge of the plate.

Taegyun's eyes narrowed briefly. He watched her for a second more, then stepped toward the door.

Just as his hand touched the handle, her voice reached him again—barely above a whisper.

"Taegyun."

He paused.

"…Nothing happened today," she said. "Remember that."

He glanced over his shoulder, eyes meeting hers.

"Of course," he said with a small smile. "We just had lunch, Anna."

And with that, he opened the door and stepped into the hallway. The soft click of the door echoed behind him.

Outside, sunlight spilled through the corridor windows, casting golden light across the tiles.

In Taegyun's mind, silence lingered.

Then, like a sudden itch, a thought resurfaced.

He remembered one of the effects of his Attribute.

[Touch of Temptation]

–Your touch brings subtle pleasure and emotional ease.

He paused mid-step, lips curving upward faintly.

'What would have happened if I touched her? Would she have really felt that pleasure... would her emotional guard fall, and she'd speak without filter?'

He shivered, briefly.

'I really don't want to know. I feel like that would've been a turning point.'

But deep inside, buried beneath restraint and common sense, the lingering curiosity remained.

The description of [Touch of Temptation] echoed again in his thoughts.

It refused to fade.

***

After the afternoon shift, the academy day officially came to a close.

Taegyun did not linger.

He left the campus grounds quietly, blending into the crowd of dispersing students. The ride home took about thirty minutes. By the time he stepped through the front gate of his house, the sun had already begun its descent.

"Grandma, I'm home," he called out.

His grandmother responded from inside, but before she could reach him, a small blur shot across the floor.

Niri.

The little creature bounced toward him with energetic excitement, eyes sparkling like tiny gems. It looked like a fluffy black puffball, with big ears twitching and stubby paws pattering rapidly across the ground.

Taegyun laughed, crouched down, and gave the fluffy troublemaker a few well-deserved pats. He played with Niri for a while, then carried the little puffball with him into the bathroom.

After freshening up, he handed Niri over to his grandmother and returned to his room.

The door shut behind him with a gentle thud.

Taegyun walked slowly to the side of his bed, exhaled deeply, and closed his eyes.

The world fell quiet for a few seconds.

Then, his eyes snapped open.

"Finally… it's time to check my abilities," he muttered.

He had not been able to do so in the morning, having been occupied with his first quest of the day. But now he had time. Privacy. Space.

He raised his hand in front of his face, fingers outstretched, and focused.

Not too close—just enough for him to see his palm clearly.

He inhaled.

And activated his ability.

[Darkness Manipulation]

Immediately, the atmosphere of the room shifted. The light dimmed unnaturally, as if someone had draped a veil of darkness over the air itself. It was not absolute darkness, but the illumination lost its sharpness, its warmth. Darkness lengthened. Corners grew deeper.

Taegyun felt something stir deep within his core. Then, without warning, it surged.

Darkness flowed out of him. Not like smoke. Not like liquid. A black flame danced along his palm, flickering in absolute silence. Unlike normal fire, it cast no light. It absorbed it.

A dense, starless void clung to his skin. Every glint and reflection nearby was devoured.

The air inside his room turned cold. Heavy.

It was as if the very presence of that darkness sucked the warmth and color out of everything around it.

Taegyun stared at his palm, eyes gleaming with awe.

So this was primordial darkness…

He narrowed his eyes and focused again.

With intent, he reshaped the black flames.

From his palm, four tendrils formed—long, flexible strands of living void. They writhed silently in the air, moving in smooth, serpentine motions. Then, as if obeying an invisible command, they floated outward and began orbiting around him in a slow, circular path.

He smiled slightly.

Three meters. That was their limit, it seemed.

Still, it was enough.

Then, something else caught his attention.

He looked at the desk lamp in the corner.

Its bulb began to flicker. Not violently, but subtly. Like something was interfering with its current. And the air around the tendrils shimmered faintly, almost as if the very fabric of the room was distorting near them.

Walls seemed a bit… off. Corners no longer sat where they should. Like the room was trying to deceive his eyes.

Taegyun slowly deactivated his ability.

The darkness withdrew, sucked back into his core.

Light returned to normal.

The warmth came back.

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully and muttered, "This ability… it's more useful than I thought."

He walked toward the edge of the room and glanced down at the shadows beneath his bed.

"With this, I can conceal myself even in a fully lit space. I can distort nearby physical matter… maybe even disrupt weak sensors or light-based surveillance."

He glanced up at the ceiling, a thoughtful glint in his eye.

"And… I can fake a shadow's presence and hide within it. Make it seem like something's blocking the light when nothing's really there."

A grin tugged at the corner of his lips.

This wasn't just a flashy gimmick. It was real utility. Environmental manipulation. Stealth. Illusion.

Something perfect for someone who did not want to fight fair.

_____________

[Darkness Manipulation]

Ability Description:

You can command a small amount of primordial Darkness.

Grants limited control over primordial darkness

Shape or move it within a 3-meter range

Slightly distort nearby physical matter or energy within the darkness

Creates an illusion of an existing shadow, even without a physical object

Cannot be used offensively, purely environmental influence.

_____________

He stood silently by the window, the soft light from outside spilling across his floor. His arms crossed as he mulled over the potential applications of his abilities. There were so many possibilities, and temptations.

A mischievous smirk crept onto his lips.

'Wouldn't this be perfect for peeking into the girls' changing rooms… or the bathrooms?'

He paused.

His eyes narrowed at the thought.

'No, stop it,' he muttered internally, shaking his head. 'I'm not that desperate… yet.'

Still, the thought lingered. The ability to manipulate darkness had more than just battlefield utility. If he really wanted to, he could exploit darkness and shadows in all kinds of perverted ways. It was dangerous. Tempting. He pushed it aside for now.

With a calmer breath, he turned his attention toward the second ability granted to him.

[Light Manipulation]

Raising his open palm once more, he activated the power.

Immediately, a warm silver-white flame flickered to life above his hand. The atmosphere shifted. His dim room became gently illuminated, almost purified by the holy glow of the primordial Light. It was soft and flickering, yet brilliant—like fire that gave no heat, only clarity.

Taegyun felt a strange sensation wash over him.

His breath slowed. His thoughts quieted. His chest felt lighter.

All his tension melted into a calm serenity.

"This is… different," he murmured under his breath.

For a few seconds, he simply stared at the delicate flame, entranced by its tranquil beauty. Then he blinked and summoned his status screen, scrolling until his eyes found the familiar entry.

_____________

[Light Manipulation]

Ability Description:

You can command a small amount of primordial Light

Grants limited control over primordial Light

Stabilizes a 3-meter radius to dispel distortion, illusion, or corruption

Creates a subtle field of clarity; helps detect falsehood or irregularities

Cannot be used offensively, purely environmental influence.

_____________

Taegyun squinted at the description, one brow rising.

"Dispel illusions… corruption… falsehood detection?" he muttered. "So this is more of a support skill."

He tilted his head.

"Detecting falsehood… like lies? Or hidden traps?"

The ability suddenly felt a lot more useful. Against illusion-based monsters or enemies that messed with the mind, this would be a solid counter. Still, for now, it felt… passive.

Too passive.

Yet deep in his gut, something whispered that this ability held more than it claimed.

He narrowed his eyes at his glowing palm.

'There's something more to this,' he thought. 'Something it's not telling me.'

A moment later, he turned abruptly toward his desk, opened the drawer, and retrieved a small utility knife.

He deactivated the light ability first then without hesitation, he brought the blade to his index finger and made a tiny cut.

It barely stung. A shallow slice, just enough to test a theory.

He quickly activated the light ability again. The soft flame returned, casting its warm glow once more.

He stood in silence, letting the light soak into his skin for a few seconds before letting the flame flicker out.

Then he examined his finger.

The cut was gone.

No scar. No blood. No trace.

Taegyun's eyes widened slightly.

A grin tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Well, well… interesting."

So, it could heal. At least minor cuts. But that detail hadn't been mentioned anywhere in the description.

"Why wasn't that listed?" he muttered. "Is it too weak to be worth noting? Or maybe…"

He paused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"Maybe this ability is deeper than what the surface says. Maybe it'll evolve the more I use it."

His smile deepened.

Primordial Light.

Peaceful, calm, and yet hiding power beneath its gentle glow.

He had a feeling he had barely scratched the surface.