The Tone-Deaf Healer Kills with a Song

Looking at it with a bewildered expression, Jung Hwan-jae calmly said “I guess you don’t like it” while tearing out and throwing away the page.

I had only one request.

Could I possibly get into the dormitory provided by Hanttae?

“I just need a small space to lay my body in the dormitory. I don’t even have money for monthly rent.”

But as soon as Jung Hwan-jae received my message, as if he’d been waiting for it, he came with plans and papers for all sorts of internal facilities and various equipment.

Apart from being a complete mess with suggestions from who knows where, his dedication was somewhat praiseworthy.

Did he think of this himself? Seeing how he seems to glare at empty space whenever I get flustered, maybe not.

“We don’t charge separately for dormitory residence, but—”

“Ah, really? Why?”

“Pardon?”

“No, looking at the facilities in this pamphlet, the maintenance costs must be huge, so to run all this for free must be quite a burden… never mind.”

I gave up speaking as I watched him blink as if he’d never heard the word ‘burden’ before. Better to die than suffer.

If I brought up anything else here, he’d start talking about employee benefits. I was still too much of a common citizen to get used to this terrifying scale.

“I think we’ve talked too much about interior design. As shown in the pamphlet, dormitories are provided as individual houses. You move there using dedicated teleports.”

He said most dormitories are vacant because hunters typically earn enough to buy their own homes within a year.

Since Hanttae hasn’t accepted new members in a long time, maintenance costs like cleaning exceed the utility bills—making the exclusive nature of this place feel even more real.

And I was moving into such a place.

“Then when can I start moving my things?”

“We can install the teleport machine and you can move in right away. Your room number is already assigned and maintenance is done daily.”

“I’ll move in within this week then, Guild Leader.”

At my form of address, he suddenly looked at me with sealed lips.

Wondering if I’d done something wrong, I reviewed the situation, but nothing stood out. I thought I’d just talked the same way as before.

“I don’t really reveal that I’m Hanttae’s Guild Leader to the outside. It gets a bit troublesome when such things become known. Even my ranking profile shows a slightly modified face.”

“Come to think of it, your ranking photo does look worse than you in person. I thought you just photographed terribly, but that was why.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“Yes.”

When I gave him two thumbs up, he looked at me with an ambiguous expression.

His face seemed to say ‘If you say so, but I’m not sure if it’s really a compliment.’ My attempt at flattery learned from social life wasn’t working.

I’ll have to think of another approach.

“…Anyway, it’s better not to call me Guild Leader outside. So I’d like to decide on a different form of address.”

“Ah.”

So I shouldn’t use any title that could reveal his identity. I started to regret all those times I freely called him Guild Leader and even saved him that way in my phone.

Even when he came to meet me, he thoroughly concealed his identity. He must have endured and waited all these days while I kept saying Guild Leader, Guild Leader.

Thoughts of ‘Why didn’t he point it out sooner?‘ and ‘Oh no’ chaotically crossed my mind.

“What form of address would you prefer?”

“Hmm, Jung-hwan… is that also an identity that needs to be hidden?”

“Yes, since Jung-hwan is my publicly known name, it’s better not to use either Guild Leader or Hwan.”

Well, the whole world knows that Ranker Jung-hwan is Hanttae’s Guild Leader, so it would be even more disastrous if I just called him Hwan.

I racked my brain. Let me be more observant. Maybe he has a title he wants to hear but I’m not quite getting it.

Sure enough, his lips moved.

“How about calling me Jung Hwan-jae?”

“What?”

“You can even just say ‘Hey, Hwan-jae.'”

His expression was quite serious. As far as I know, Jung Hwan-jae is three years older than me. Yet he’s telling me to speak informally to someone older?

Having grown up steeped in Korean Confucianism from birth, I absolutely couldn’t accept this. When I shook my head vigorously, he looked slightly puzzled.

Using his real name is a good suggestion. As they say, to hide a tree, go to the forest.

“How about Mr. Jung Hwan-jae or Mr. Hwan-jae? I’m not really comfortable suddenly speaking informally.”

“That’s fine too.”

“Since we’ll just look like hunters from Hanttae from the outside, how about using a friendlier title like ‘Senior’?”

‘Oppa’ doesn’t seem right. Wouldn’t that be crossing a line? When I mentioned the title ‘Senior,’ Jung Hwan-jae’s eyes twitched slightly.

Has he never been called this in his life? He doesn’t seem to dislike it though.

“Shall I call you Senior? And inside, I’ll properly call you Mr. Jung Hwan-jae.”

“…Yes, that would work.”

“Then I think my form of address should also be different outside.”

“Ah, right. For me…”

Why does he look like he’s been waiting for this? Every conversation with him feels like passing through gates.

Seeing his face sink into unnecessarily serious contemplation, I casually threw out:

“You could just call me Yeom Ye-ah or Ye-ah-ya. That’s how seniors usually talk, right?”

“…”

He froze in his contemplative pose. When he slowly raised his eyes to meet mine, I recognized this expression.

It’s the face he makes when I start desperately singing terrible songs.

“I’m sorry, did I overstep?”

“No, it’s fine. But I’m wondering if it’s okay for me to suddenly speak that way.”

“We’ll be using Ms. Yeom Ye-ah and Guild Leader inside anyway. This is just for outside. Feel free to speak informally too.”

Seeming to find my words quite reasonable, he soon nodded. I found myself smiling without realizing it.

“Senior Hwan-jae.”

“…Ye-ah-ya?”

His voice came out creaking, as if sounding out ye-a-ya.

This form of address definitely needs more practice. But he should get used to it by the time we talk outside.

After clearing his throat a few times, he shuffled through the files again. Just as I was thinking we might go practice singing now that we’d finished discussing the dormitory, he spoke.

“Ye-ah-ya, what’s your situation a month from now?”

“…Well, I suppose I’ll still be coming to work at Hanttae a month from now.”

He needs practice with informal speech as well as the new form of address.

It seems a bit difficult to teach both at once, so let’s take it one step at a time. He doesn’t seem to fully understand what he’s saying right now.

Finally realizing there was a communication error, he took a short breath.

“There’s a ranking competition in a month. I’d like to have you rank in then.”

“Someone like me?”

Despite my self-deprecating question, he nodded seriously. He seemed unaware that I’d made a comment showing low self-esteem.

What’s his reason for acting this way when he knows my desperately poor stats better than anyone? Does he really think I can do it?

“Generally, if you can use healing-related classes and skills, you can rank at the top tier with the same stat values.”

“But my basic stats are hopelessly low right now.”

“Isn’t that why I’m sticking close by, wanting to help solve that?”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“Ye-ah-ya, let me ask you one thing. Don’t you want to become a ranker?”

I gave a hollow laugh.

“Of course I do.”

T/N:

Adding -ya or -ah to the end of someone’s name can be used for calling someone who is younger than you, someone you’re close with, or when speaking informally.

The choice between 야 (-ya) and 아 (-ah) depends on:

야 (-ya): Used when the name ends in a vowel 

Example: 예아야 (Ye-ah-ya) because 예아 ends in 아

아 (-ah): Used when the name ends in a consonant 

Example: 민석아 (Minseok-ah) because 민석 ends in ㄱ