After breakfast, Do-Jun would briefly read the morning paper before heading to work. This had become his new morning routine. Seven months had already passed since he returned to Earth from the Central Plains, and he believed he had integrated quite well into life on modern Earth. Newspapers played a significant role in helping him adapt.
“Daddy,” Byeol called him.
Do-Jun set down the paper and smiled warmly at the little girl, who had approached him unnoticed. She had woken up early for a change, which was quite admirable.
“I am leaving home,” she declared, but Do-Jun’s expression didn’t change.
Was it because his emotions were dulled? No, that wasn’t the case. Yoon-Hee, on the other hand, rushed over in a panic from where she was getting ready for school.
“B-Byeol! What do you mean by that? Why are you leaving home?” she asked.
Byeol didn’t understand why Yoon-Hee was overreacting when she was simply telling them she was going out.
Do-Jun picked up Byeol and looked her in the eyes as he asked, “Are you leaving our home?”
“Yup. Leaving our home.”
“When will you come back?”
“Sounds good. Could you call Yong-Yong for me?” Do-Jun asked her.
“Yong-Yong is sleeping.”
“Okie!” Excited at the thought of “leaving” with Yong-Yong, Byeol skipped off to the bedroom.
Yoon-Hee, confused, glanced at Do-Jun, who was sighing.
“Ugh, leaving home! Like going out! Temporarily! For a little bit! A couple of hours!” Yong-Yong exclaimed.
He tapped the floor with his front paw indignantly. Of course, he controlled his strength carefully; if he didn’t, the entire building might collapse.
Watching from the side, Karsiel sighed and pointed to a page in an encyclopedia. “Your words aren’t entirely wrong, Lord Izaas, but ‘leaving home’ usually refers to moving out for independence. It implies a declaration not to return home anymore.”
“How does that make sense? How is that fair? I just want Master to love me! Why am I always misunderstood ?!”
If other dragons, who were unaware of Do-Jun’s identity, witnessed this scene, they’d be utterly shocked. The idea of the lord of dragons—the most superior species—yearning for a human’s affection was beyond comprehension.
“In any case, Lord Izaas, please refrain from teaching Byeol things you’re uncertain about. That’s exactly why situations morning occur. Byeol has only been on Earth for a short time, so it’s even more critical not to mislead her.” Karsiel offered her advice as if she were Yong-Yong’s secretary.
Although she entered the household after Yong-Yong, she had worked tirelessly to adapt by rigorously studying Korean culture and language to thrive in this environment.
Yong-Yong let out a deep sigh as he watched Byeol sleeping soundly. He had always wanted to show her his cool side, but today, he had embarrassed himself. Propping his chin on his paw, Yong-Yong appeared lost in thought for a moment. Then, with a determined expression, he left the house.
During a brief break after lunch, the staff of the Fissure Exploration Unit gathered in the staff lounge, sipping instant coffee. The eight-hour workday included a one-hour lunch break. The sooner someone finished eating, the more time they had to relax. Exhausted employees often ate quickly or skipped lunch altogether to take naps.
Among the three enjoying their coffee, Cheol-Soo broke the silence. “The internet is such a pain in my butt. They use so many slangs, it’s ridiculous.”
What could have caused him to blame the internet? Do-Jun sipped his coffee quietly, listening to him.
“Did something happen?” Hyuk-Soo leaned forward, curious.
“Last night, during dinner, I overheard my kids talking, but I couldn’t understand a word they said. I finally asked what ‘lmao’ meant and found out it’s short for ‘laugh my ass off.’ How am I supposed to keep up with that? And then they say things like ‘L brother,’ ‘L sister,’...”
Do-Jun had also heard such terms before. Even among the younger staff in his division, internet slang occasionally made its way into conversations, despite the professional nature of their workplace. In fact, Do-Jun had already mastered internet slang two months prior after studying it on his own because he had felt frustrated when he couldn’t understand a word of it.
“Do-Jun, do you know any of this stuff?” Cheol-Soo asked.
“I know a bit. I thought it might be useful, so I studied it.”
Upon hearing Do-Jun say that he had purposely studied it, Cheol-Soo and Hyuk-Soo exchanged glances. They vaguely knew that after losing his memory, Do-Jun had been exploring various aspects of modern life to regain his footing. Nevertheless, the idea that he had gone as far as learning internet slang was beyond their imagination.
“When I first met Hyuk-Soo, I thought he was like a robot,” Cheol-Soo said, prompting Hyuk-Soo to flinch and look at him.
Why was he bringing that up now?
“But now we’ve got two robots.” Cheol-Soo chuckled.
Yong-Yong left the house holding a small notebook. He was on his way to the Senior Center, a gathering place for the elderly residents of Changshin Villa.
Two elderly men were playing janggi [1]. One side’srook was closing in on the king, leaving no escape.
“Ah, Mr. Kim, could we go back a turn just once?”
“Hehe. Who told you to put your piece there?”
“No use arguing. If only you hadn’t taken my pawn, the game might’ve turned around.”
“Well, challenging a former janggi king like me was bound to end poorly.”
“Desperate animals fight to the end, don’t they?”
Yong-Yong jotted down their conversation in his notebook. The old men were entirely focused on their game, but they eventually noticed Yong-Yong, whom they knew as the dog from unit 301. Changshin Villa wasn’t a large complex, and being an older building, most residents had a general idea of who lived where.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Yong-Yong asked them.
“Huh? What are you talking about?” asked one of the older men.
“The fancy phrases you just used!”
The older man scratched his head, puzzled. “Why do you want to know?”
The day’s classes had ended.
As Yoon-Hee grabbed her bag and prepared to head home after homeroom, Hye-Jung stopped her. “Yoon-Hee, are you going straight home again today?”
“Yeah, I need to make dinner.”
“Again? Don’t you think it’s unfair that you’re the one always cooking?”
However, Hye-Jung didn’t know about Yoon-Hee’s situation. Cooking dinner wasn’t optional for her—it was an obligation. Besides, to Yoon-Hee, cooking for her family wasn’t a burden but a source of great joy. No matter how tiring her day had been, seeing Do-Jun and the kids enjoy her cooking always felt more refreshing than any energy drink.
“They’re holding an activity night at the first-year dorm auditorium today, you know. I heard some celebrities are coming too. Don’t you think it’d be a shame to miss it? It’s not like events happen often...” Hye-Jung explained.
The event was for first-year students and featured various activities held in the dormitory auditorium during the evening. Since the Hunter Academy had many dormitory students, the academy occasionally hosted events like these as part of its welfare efforts, and today was one of those occasions.
“Hm... Let me ask my father.”
Yoon-Hee tapped the first name in her contacts under the “Favorite” tab.
Do-Jun stopped by the local store before heading home. He planned to pick up groceries for dinner, and his steps felt light. Earlier, Yoon-Hee, who rarely socialized with friends, had called to ask for permission to stay out today. What father wouldn’t feel happy to hear such news?
Still, he avoided recipes that required too much effort. While his cooking had improved significantly from before, he wasn’t confident enough to take on anything too complicated.
As he pondered what side dishes to prepare, a voice called out, “Braised short ribs! Only nine thousand won per pack!”
The memory of reprimanding Yong-Yong earlier that morning for teaching Byeol an inappropriate meaning for a word flashed in his mind. Do-Jun felt a pang of guilt because he knew that Yong-Yong didn’t have any bad intentions.
“I’ll take two packs, please.”
Do-Jun entered the password for the door lock and stepped inside. Byeol ran over to greet him.
Smiling, Do-Jun picked her up and asked, “Did you behave while I was gone?”
Do-Jun blinked in surprise. Had he misheard her? Did she really say that she “yearned eagerly”? Setting Byeol down, he walked into the kitchen and set the shopping bags on the table.
“Braised ribs! The more the merrier,” said Yong-Yong, wagging his tail as he stared at the packs of ribs in the bag.
Do-Jun walked over to Karsiel, who had been watching from a distance, and whispered in her ear, “What’s going on here?”
“I’m not entirely sure, Master... But ever since their visit to the Senior Center, they’ve started incorporating idioms into their speech. Byeol even insists on speaking entirely in idioms...”
Both of them held idiom notebooks in their hands. Seeing Do-Jun’s astonished expression, Yong-Yong chuckled inwardly. Surely, Master would be super impressed by their eloquence, especially after his blunder this morning.
Curious, Do-Jun checked Byeol’s notebook. Inside, she had written down idioms and their meanings in wobbly handwriting, in detail. Yong-Yong pulled stunts every now and then, but why was Byeol so committed to this?
“I...” Byeol seemed like she wanted to say something.
Flipping through her notebook, she hesitated, looking troubled. “Daddy, I’m hungwy. No idiom for that.”
It was already 10 PM by the time the first-year events came to an end and Yoon-Hee got back home.
Byeol ran over, leaped into her arms, and said, “Mommy! Longing unceasing.”
“Huh...?” Yoon-Hee turned to look at Do-Jun.
He let out a long sigh in response.
As usual, the Fissure Exploration Unit staff gathered for their coffee break. Cheol-Soo downed his iced latte in one gulp, looking exhausted. The trend of kids creating all sorts of slang was becoming an increasing source of stress.
“What does ‘standing on business’ even mean?” Cheol-Soo asked.
“Let’s see... it means putting your foot down, standing your ground, that sort of thing,” Hyuk-Soo explained, reading off his phone after looking it up.
“The internet is ruining everything. Tsk.”
Then, Cheol-Soo’s attention shifted to Do-Jun, who had been silently sipping his coffee. He appeared lost in thought, as if he were grappling with something. Do-Jun was thinking about the idiom-filled notebooks he had seen from Yong-Yong and Byeol the previous night. By now, they had probably added even more entries.
“For me, it’s the Senior Center...” he muttered.
1. Janggi is Korean chess. ☜