*
And so, Jurim tilted his head in puzzlement as he read the comments on the mom cafe.
'Is it really that important whether I'm a father or a guardian?'
Isn't the quality of the upbringing environment what matters, whether we're family or not?
He didn't think it was poor parenting. He had hired four sitters to look after the child. It was an environment where he could grant any request, and his relationship with the child wasn't bad, either.
Jurim rhythmically tapped the back of his phone with his index finger as he read the comments.
The daycare director had said it would take time for Geuru to accept Jurim as family, but Jurim didn't particularly wish for that, either.
A relationship free from the fear of being abandoned again and free from hurt, a safe and comfortable home, an environment where her wishes could be granted—wasn't that enough?
Whether mom, dad, guardian, or Guild Master…….
He typed on the keyboard with a slightly displeased expression.
Meanwhile, Bak Mirim had deliberately taken a seat in the very back, stealing glances at Jurim while waiting for the right moment to approach.
She felt she understood why he had avoided personal contact.
An S-rank. And the strongest of them all, Rank 1, at that. It was hardly a pleasant sight to see him bickering back and forth with a kindergarten classmate's mother (who was extremely weak even among ordinary people).
It was rather like a lion demanding an apology from an ant.
'Haeri, did the friend you bullied really have to be On Jurim's daughter? Were there really no other options? Like simply getting along with her…….'
She had wished for such a relationship even if it hadn't been On Jurim's daughter, but what was done was done; it was merely spilled water.
Mirim's eyes, which had been eagerly waiting for an opening to speak, caught sight of the smartphone On Jurim was holding.
'Huh?'
The cafe displayed on On Jurim's screen looked strangely familiar.
'Why?'
Just as she narrowed her eyes and craned her neck forward—
The screen scrolled to the very bottom. Above the comment input box, the nickname 'Du Geuru' was visible.
Not long after Jurim tapped the keyboard, a notification sounded on Mirim's phone that a comment had been posted by the mom cafe nickname 'Du Geuru'.
[Du Geuru: Is that important? It's merely a form of address.]
'Ah, her name is Han Geuru, so it's Du Geuru.'
Mirim smiled slightly at the rather cute nickname choice, then bit her lip.
'I'm screwed. Damn it.'
The person she had snubbed on the neighborhood mom cafe under the nickname 'On Jurim' had been On Jurim himself.
*
While Haeri's mother and Geuru's father were sinking deeper into their anguish, the presentation had begun.
Jurim watched the children's presentations without much interest.
The children would stutter or clamp their mouths shut, not knowing what to do when they couldn't remember their lines. Whenever that happened, if the adults cheered them on and waited, the children would gain confidence and complete their presentations.
"Guild Mawster hasn't been to kindergawden, so he doesn't know, though."
Recalling Geuru's words, a snorting laugh escaped him.
He didn't know why she had such a misunderstanding, but coming to the kindergarten presentation, he understood the feeling that had prompted her words that day.
Because his father's words had been hesitant, disjointed, and a complete mess, much like a kindergarten presentation.
But from that desperation, he had read the truth.
A truth he might never have heard in his lifetime, had Geuru not been there.
His disappointment and anger toward his father were things that had festered for far too long to be washed away in an instant.
If not for the sandfish story his father and Geuru had shared in front of Gu Sinhu—no, if not for the carnivorous kindergartener's demand for meat—his relationship with his father might have drifted along regardless of the truth.
But having heard his father's sincere story, having shared a meal…….
He could vividly feel things changing. Life with a child was a continuous series of changes and realizations.
"I'm Yun Soyeong of the Chick Class! I will pwesent Mommy Rabbit and Daddy Turtoise!"
The presentation topics varied for each child.
Some talked about animals, some about family. The children especially loved dinosaurs.
The parents cheered and applauded the messy presentations of the four-year-olds.
"Well done! Our Soyeong!"
Geuru looked back each time. Then she glared at Jurim, who was resting his chin on his hand with a bored look.
Taking the hint, Jurim applauded. Geuru nodded her head once, like a drill instructor praising a private.
The children beamed at the enthusiastic cheers, bowed, and returned to their seats.
Soon after, Geuru came forward, fluttering a sheet of paper and fidgeting awkwardly.
She always showed it when she was nervous. Jurim, who had been resting his chin on his hand, smiled.
"Oh my, the baby is so pretty."
"She's adorable. Like a little chick."
Seeing exclamations of cuteness burst from among the gathered parents, it seemed the child wasn't cute only in his eyes.
Since dinosaurs were the hot topic of the presentations, he had assumed Geuru would talk about some kind of -saurus too.
'Since she likes hybrids.'
Or perhaps the Hunter license she was bursting to brag about, or the precious egg from the refrigerator she carried around everywhere, or the morning drama filled with chairmen that she was obsessed with these days.
Jurim recalled the trivial, insignificant stories of sharing Geuru's daily life. Without realizing it, he had come to know so much about the child.
But what leaped from Geuru's mouth was a topic he had never expected.
"The one waisin me is Hyeonak's Guild Mawster."
"……?"
In an instant, everyone in the Chick Class looked at On Jurim.
"……."
Flustered, Jurim released his chin from his hand and straightened his posture.
No wonder the child, who usually chattered away like a magpie, had kept what she wrote a secret.
"Hyeonak's Guild Master is vewy handsome and gweat. His stwength is supew strong, and scawy monsters wun away when they see Guild Mawster."
"……."
On Jurim had never been so conscious of people's gazes in his entire life, truly his entire life.
Even when under the global spotlight, he hadn't been nervous—rather, he had been so nonchalant that he was criticized for having a loose tongue.
Yet here he was, tense at a mere kindergarten presentation.
What was she going to talk about here?
"The coolest thing about Guild Master is climbing the frightening Tower."
"……."
Of all things……. Jurim ran a hand over his face to hide his nervousness.
Whenever the Tower came up, Jurim became a traitor.
He didn't care about others' criticism, but he feared what words would come from the child's mouth, or what gazes the child might receive.
"Guild Mawster saved many people with all his might."
Jurim lowered his gaze.
Truthfully, he had never held such grandiose goals as saving the world.
"Let's go together. It might be meaningful to you too, Jurim?"
Since his brother had suggested it, it had merely been a new goal created when boring days continued.
What meaning could such a thing hold?
The sense of achievement from clearing floor after floor like a game, and the desperate struggles for survival—if those were meaning, then yes, it had meaning.
But that was all. Rather, the Tower became a mark of his first humiliating failure.
A first-generation survivor who had returned alive, alone, without even reaching the top, having abandoned his family.
That label signified not only a hero's medal.
Jurim's return was accompanied by voices of resentment and criticism as loud as the praise.
"If you had tried a little harder, couldn't at least one or two have returned alive with you?"
"Was there really no other choice to save more people?"
Well, they were probably mostly right. Even now, it was hazy whether he had truly done his best.
"That may be so. But is that a question that holds any meaning now?"
From the moment Jurim answered the reporters' questions in that manner, the treatment of him as a hero who saved the nation quietly subsided. Five years later, he was only mentioned when tedious meritorious service events were scheduled.
Coming down from the Tower and watching people's reactions, what suddenly occurred to him was that no one remembered the truly difficult process.
The tremendous attention he only received upon achieving his goal had puzzled him.
Was that the 'meaning' his brother spoke of? The condolences and praise for the result and success?
His father had seemed worried about a son who wasn't spoken of only in good terms by people, but Jurim himself didn't even find it amusing.
He was the sole first-generation survivor. Now, no one could harm him. Both the Tower and his brother had vanished like a mirage.
Grief was solely his own burden, and he had no intention of putting on a tearful show to match someone else's standards.
Thus, whether it became merit or fault, Jurim no longer placed any meaning on the act of having climbed the Tower.
Until now…….
"I am the pwoudwest of Guild Mawster in the whole wowld."
But if you are proud of me, it can't have been entirely devoid of meaning.
More than anyone else's praise or flattery, when it is a child's pride, he finally felt as though he had accomplished something.