Regression Guidelines For the Supporting Character

Kwon Taehyuk, having just finished a meeting, headed down to the first floor. Striding briskly forward, his secretary followed behind, holding a tablet PC, and gave a report.
“All room arrangements have been completed. Additionally, the clothing and personal items you requested have also been provided.”

Kwon Taehyuk nodded at the sharply-delivered briefing.
Today was finally the day Cha Seohu would enter the guild building with his younger sibling. Since he had already rejected the invitation once before, everything had been meticulously prepared to ensure Seohu wouldn’t feel uncomfortable.
In truth, this was the bare minimum.

How many times now had Cha Seohu used his skill to save people? Among those saved were members of Taehyuk’s own guild.
And Seohu had been hiding himself under a falsified B-rank classification, deliberately avoiding attention. Despite that, he had used his skill to save others without hesitation, and even accepted Taehyuk’s personal request for help.
He probably turned down the offer to move into the guild building because he didn’t want to burden me.

Taehyuk had never seen someone as kind and selfless as Cha Seohu.
That’s why he had gone to such lengths to prepare a place for Seohu and his brother. He just wanted to help—even if only a little.
As he thought this, a sudden desire rose unbidden in Kwon Taehyuk’s mind.

If he saw the room and smiled for even a second…
BRRRR—
Just then, his phone vibrated in his suit jacket pocket, interrupting the thought. The caller ID showed it was a guild member from the security team.

—“Guildmaster, it’s bad. Something’s happened.”
The moment the call connected, the guild member reported in with clear panic in his voice.
—“We went up to the office to help move Seohu’s things, as you instructed, but the inside is completely wrecked.”

“…What?”
—“The front door’s been torn off, and everything inside—furniture, belongings, all destroyed. Judging by the traces, there was definitely a fight.”
Kwon Taehyuk froze in place.

That couldn’t be. Seohu’s office had 24-hour surveillance. Just yesterday, he’d had the secretary confirm nothing unusual was going on.
What had the surveillance team said again? No, wait—if there really had been a fight, the guards watching the office couldn’t have missed it.
I need to call him…
Maybe Seohu had escaped and was hiding somewhere. Still holding onto hope, Taehyuk opened his mouth to tell the guild member to stay on-site—he would head there now.

But the guild member spoke first.
—“Um, Guildmaster… there’s… blood…”
The voice, stiff with tension, faltered.

—“There are bloodstains on the floor…”
Taehyuk’s eyes trembled violently. The guild member continued speaking, but none of it registered anymore.
“…I’m going now.”

His voice came out hoarse and quiet, breaking the still silence that had seized him.
“I’m going right now.”
***

As the sun climbed higher into the sky, the rooftop brightened with golden light.
By the time the cold dawn breeze had softened into a gentler warmth, Cha Sahyeon—seated against a wall—lowered his gaze to the one in his arms.
Seohu, who had seemed to be holding on just fine, had collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut not long after they’d relocated here. Hours had passed, and he still hadn’t regained consciousness.

Sahyeon stared at his pale face with eyes tightly shut, then moved his hand.
Sliding beneath his T-shirt, his hand gently skimmed Seohu’s skin. As the shirt lifted, his side was revealed—bruised, black and blue.
When he lightly pressed his fingertip to the area, Seohu groaned and furrowed his brow.

And that wasn’t the only injury. He was covered in them.
His back and sides were scraped raw from who-knew how many impacts, and cuts appeared everywhere he looked—so frequent it was as if one emerged with every blink.
WHOOSH— For just a second—less than a breath—a dense, murderous aura burst from Sahyeon’s body… and then vanished cleanly.

I should’ve handled it myself.
Sahyeon knew how fiercely independent Cha Seohu was. At the very least, he didn’t appreciate people interfering in what he chose to do himself.
That was why he hadn’t stepped into his fight directly and had only sent a shadow. Unfortunately, that shadow had encountered a B-rank host body, and couldn’t hold out against an A-rank Hunter for long.

Frowning in frustration, Sahyeon stopped inspecting the wounds and simply pulled Seohu closer into a tighter embrace.
A new shadow rose from the floor. Like a thick blanket, the severed piece of shadow draped itself over Seohu as Sahyeon contemplated.
He was keeping Seohu’s body temperature stable, but that wasn’t enough. He knew how fragile Seohu’s body was—he always winced in pain, even from the gentlest touch.

Now, that same Seohu was sweating cold, his face ghostly pale.
Sahyeon didn’t know what a fever or fatigue was. But he did know one thing: Seohu needed a place to rest properly.
Thinking hard, he finally recalled something from the past.

Hotel.
A rare fragment of memory that stood out from the endless, blackened haze.
He remembered taking Seohu’s hand and going there. Past dazzling lights and into a warm, comfortable place where he could sleep.

With his destination decided, Sahyeon summoned one of the birds and gave it a command—to find the nearest hotel. The bird vanished across the sky.
THUMP.
With the bird off scouting, Sahyeon pulled out the belongings of the dead from his shadow.

The corpses had been absorbed, but the personal items remained. He picked up a phone.
Seohu had given him a rough explanation of how phones worked. Between that and his familiarity with handling game consoles, he managed to use it without issue.
Ah… the game console…

As he searched for hotel reservations on the phone, regret rose bitterly in his chest.
It was a gift from him.
It couldn’t be helped, but he still felt disappointed.

It was his first time experiencing something like this—receiving a gift, treasuring it, then losing it… and being sad about it.
He knew he couldn’t get it back. Still, part of him kept calculating the possibility. Pointless, really.
—SKREE!

Just then, the shadow sent for reconnaissance returned with the signal that a hotel had been found.
Sahyeon slowly closed and reopened his eyes, letting go of the useless longing. He moved swiftly.
First, he destroyed the phones.

Everyone from the church, including the Director, had been believers. If they still had those devices, they could easily be tracked. Sahyeon crushed the phones to powder.
Then he took out the cash from one of the wallets.
Just like the phones, he couldn’t risk using the cards. He kept the cash and ripped up the wallet—plastic cards and all—like tearing paper.

After tidying everything up, Sahyeon held Seohu tightly again and stood.
A towering shadow surged up around them and swallowed them whole.
***

“Welcome. Let me check your reservation.”
The receptionist smiled brightly and approached the arriving couple.
This was a two-star hotel—not crowded, but clean and known for good service. It had a fairly positive reputation among its limited clientele.

After showing the couple to their room, the staff turned to welcome the next guest.
“Welcome. Do you have a reserv—ah!”
A crushing pressure hit her body. Shoulders trembling, the receptionist stumbled as she looked up.

The first thing she saw was deep black.
A man dressed in shadow, as though a swatch of the night sky had been draped over him. And in his arms—carried bridal style—was a tall young man.
The youth locked eyes with the receptionist and spoke, his green irises glinting dangerously.

“No reservation…”
The deep voice came slowly, almost dazedly. As the receptionist stood frozen, mouth agape, he # Nоvеlight # continued.
“Suite A. Marble bathtub.”

“…S-sorry?”
“One night.”
He listed the exact name of the room as it appeared on the website, then effortlessly shifted the man in his arms with one arm and pulled something from his coat.

A fat wad of cash.
Shaking, the receptionist accepted the bills and handed over the form required for walk-ins.
With no expression, Sahyeon looked down at the document and began scribbling. Since the forged ID for “Cha Sahyeon” was listed under a young age, he used Seohu’s information instead.

After submitting the form and receiving the room key, he gently cradled Seohu again and headed for the elevator.
The receptionist, barely staying on her feet, collapsed into the chair as soon as the two disappeared from sight.
W-what the hell…?

In a world ruled by Awakeners, or “Hunters,” this wasn’t unheard of.
Hunters—so far beyond ordinary people—showed up everywhere. Even at a place like this.
But that young man… he was something else.

A presence that stirred a primal fear deep in the bones. Like facing a starving predator—her body hadn’t stopped shaking.
She took several deep breaths, praying she wouldn’t see him again tomorrow.
Meanwhile, inside the elevator, Sahyeon checked the room number on the key and headed to the suite.

Once the door was opened, a neatly arranged room came into view. It was smaller than the hotel room he’d once seen with Seohu—but still decent.
Most importantly, there was a bed. That’s what Seohu needed more than anything now—a soft, warm place to rest his exhausted body.
He laid Seohu down on the sofa first, then soaked a towel in warm water.

Peeling off his torn, bloodstained clothes, he gently wiped him down from head to toe. Starting with his face, still damp with cold sweat, he worked his way carefully across his body.
He’d seen Seohu’s body many times before while helping him bathe, so this was nothing new to him.
Once he was clean, he dressed him in a bathrobe and moved him to the bed. As soon as the blanket was tucked around him, his expression visibly relaxed. It seemed to be working.

Using a fresh towel, he wiped Seohu’s feverish face again and thought:
So this is what caregiving feels like.
Taking care of someone sick—watching over them until they got better. It was a concept he had only known from reading. Actually doing it was more difficult than he expected.

You took care of me like this too, didn’t you, when I was sick…
Though he’d been delirious with a high fever, he remembered the gaze filled with worry and the gentle hand that stroked his forehead.
The weak are useless. Useless people get abandoned.

At that time, Sahyeon had been weaker and more useless than anyone.
Seohu had been hunted by his so-called “siblings.” And even in that situation, he hadn’t abandoned him—someone so useless.
“…I really do like you.”

The tips of his ears, peeking through his hair, turned red. Smiling quietly, Sahyeon leaned his cheek against Seohu’s hand and whispered.
“I really like you.”