Chapter 144

I knew that higher-ranked dungeons, whether special ones or RP dungeons, came with increasingly bizarre conditions, but this was a whole new pattern.

“Piano…”

The child ended up slumping his shoulders.

The joyful expression from moments ago was completely gone.

His listless steps dragged toward the piano.

And the child’s hand opening the lid looked so small compared to the piano.

If this kept up, not only would Ripen suffer, but our affinity would plummet too.

His back practically screamed that he didn’t want to practice.

Was there no way to make him enjoy playing the piano?

An SS-rank dungeon demanding something like this—what the hell!

I racked my brain.

But as someone who’d once been tormented by studying, I knew the truth.

If you hate something, you really hate it!

It doesn’t matter if you dress up bitter ginger as candy or learn math through games—it’s all the same boring crap in the end!

How do you make something you hate fun!?

A parade of worries flashed across our faces. Everyone here had probably thought it at least once.

Would it be easier if Mrs. Maiden turned into the boss, or if Ripen did?

Either way, both becoming bosses would spell doom. We had to make sure only one did!

Brainstorm time!

…But even that didn’t yield any clever ideas.

Or so I thought.

Shin Jae-heon suddenly spoke up.

“Just.”

Just? Did he have a method?

The gazes of So Yeri Hunter and Joo Hunter Yian, who had been in a similar state as me, turned to him as well.

Receiving stares not just from us but even from Ripen, Shin Jae-heon continued confidently.

“Let’s ditch it.”

“?”

Have you lost your mind?

It was the moment when a bottleneck formed in my throat, choking back my curses.

Shin Jae-heon clenched his fist toward Ripen.

“Let’s play!”

And then Mrs. Maiden’s unimaginable delinquent ideology began to spread.

“Even if you practice piano, she’ll just scold you anyway—so let’s play and get scolded!”

Did he conclude that Mrs. Maiden becoming the boss would be easier to handle?

My eyes met Joo Hunter Yian’s.

Joo Hunter Yian looked shocked too.

That was when a buff skill appeared in his system window.

“Hmm.”

So Yeri Hunter stepped forward as if to calm things down.

Right! As the senior, try to stop them!

“Well, if you do something you hate, it never goes well anyway.”

She wasn’t stopping them—she was fanning the flames!

Rarely, I found myself in the same boat as the model student Joo Hunter Yian, racking my brain.

“Mom gets mad if I don’t play the piano…”

At that moment, Ripen muttered, swayed by the adults’ temptation.

Wait, she gets mad if I don’t play the piano?

I looked around. We were alone in the pitch-black space.

And Ripen had clearly said earlier.

Adults can’t come here.

Setting aside the fact that we hadn’t suddenly stopped being adults, the “adult” Ripen meant was almost certainly Mrs. Maiden or her obedient servants.

So, we just needed piano sounds to ring out?

I brightened up. And quickly joined the ranks of the “delinquent friends.”

“Yeah, let’s play! It’ll be fine!”

Then, the lone model student Joo Hunter Yian pressed his forehead.

His gaze quickly scanned the room. Clearly checking where the damage would be minimal if a fight broke out.

Wait, wait! There are ways around this!

“We can play the piano ourselves, right?”

At my words, Shin Jae-heon looked at me. As if thinking exactly the same.

Ripen froze.

“Who’s gonna play?”

Naturally, all eyes turned to Shin Jae-heon.

And Ripen, who clearly fancied himself a good judge of character, immediately said,

“If you can’t play well, Mom gets mad.”

A vein popped on Shin Jae-heon’s forehead.

I could almost hear his pride getting scratched.

Then Ripen suddenly pointed at Joo Hunter Yian.

“This brother looks like he can.”

“…Me?”

Joo Hunter Yian cautiously pointed at himself.

He looked a bit troubled, not forgetting polite speech even to a child addressing him casually.

“Yeah.”

Ripen said it with total confidence.

“You look the most boring.”

Joo Hunter Yian paused.

It was rare to piss off Joo Yian with just a few words.

“…I’ll give it a try for now.”

Composing himself, Joo Hunter Yian approached the piano.

“You can play piano too, Joo Yian?”

I whispered, and Shin Jae-heon shrugged.

“No idea?”

Sitting at the piano, he looked like a masterpiece painting come to life.

As Joo Hunter Yian tilted his head, his light brown hair shifted slightly to the side.

Catching the dim room light, the gold chain of his monocle glinted.

And his delicate hands placed on the keys were picturesque.

The problem was, masterpieces don’t come with speakers!

Did Joo Hunter Yian actually play piano well!? I’d never seen it!

Then So Yeri Hunter spoke up.

“He plays great.”

Our gazes turned to her. So Yeri Hunter winked.

“Saw it during volunteer work together.”

Volunteer work?

My eyes met Shin Jae-heon’s.

For high-rank hunters, clearing gates was practically volunteering already, so no one forced more on them.

But some hunters sought it out voluntarily, and Joo Yian was one.

He sponsored orphanages created by the gate incidents whenever he had time, even visiting personally.

Naturally, an S-rank’s influence was huge—one orphanage he appeared on broadcast with was flooded with donations overnight.

News articles popped up endlessly.

On Hunter Net, some idiots badmouthed Joo Yian for no reason.

Trash-talking S-rank hunters wasn’t uncommon, so just forwarding the site to the Hunter Association handled it.

But with Joo Yian, no need—the association wasn’t even required.

Hordes from some community would swarm and conquer the comments.

That cafe. Joo Yian’s fan cafe, of course.

They shared Joo Hunter Yian news faster than the Hunter Association’s monitoring.

When hate posts appeared, they’d swarm, beat down the nonsense posters as standard.

Even the haters avoided Joo Yian fans.

They trampled people with gentle, polite tones.

After hours of pummeling, justice prevailed, and the hater vanished.

Few trash-talkers used logic anyway.

And occasionally, orphanage directors who aired on broadcast thanks to Joo Yian would embezzle.

Joo Yian would somehow know, report them under his name, then buy the orphanage himself.

Too busy to manage directly, he’d appoint retired hunters as directors.

Ones with spotless records, naturally.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to move the kids to another orphanage? I’m curious why you go through this hassle.”

To the reporter’s question, Joo Yian answered clearly.

“Moving kids means separating them from close friends. Changing homes is huge stress for children.”

Rumors flew that Shin Yuri’s hunter team was image-managing through Joo Yian, but we ignored it.

He does it because he wants to—what’s there to say?

Anyway, we knew Joo Yian frequented orphanages.

Shin Jae-heon and I helped out sometimes too.

But I’d never seen him play piano?

“I saw it just once too.”

So Yeri Hunter smiled warmly.

Her relaxed smile suggested it was all good.

Our gazes converged on Joo Hunter Yian.

—♪

His delicate fingers awkwardly tapped a few keys briefly, then after glancing at the sheet music, he cautiously began playing.

—♬

The melody flowed gently.

Knowing it had to seem like someone else was playing, Joo Hunter Yian deliberately hit wrong keys or repeated phrases.

But even the unfinished piece looked complete; his figure was that picturesque.

“Oh…”

I got why it was hard to see Joo Yian playing piano at orphanages.

If this aired, broadcast offers would flood in.

But giving us no time to admire, Ripen eyed Joo Hunter Yian suspiciously.

“Did Mom send you?”

He whispered to me very softly, but S-ranks wouldn’t miss it.

Soon after, Joo Hunter Yian’s hand firmly pressed a wrong key.

A dissonance rang out, naturally.

Joo Hunter Yian smiled awkwardly.

“I’m not used to reading sheet music yet.”

Does someone not used to it play like that?

Joo Hunter Yian cautiously asked Ripen.

“…Should I stop?”

His soft voice, head slightly tilted, had a calming effect.

I sometimes wondered if it was his passive skill.

“Ah, no.”

If passive, it’d be L-rank or higher for sure.

It worked instantly even on SS+ Ripen.

“Play better. If it’s this bad, Mom might ask if you played with your feet.”

“……”

Joo Hunter Yian (29, playing piano with front paws) started playing harder.

Then, a system window appeared.