In his ears he heard the ringing sound of an empty room. He wanted to sleep more, particularly because the cool air brushed against his skin lightly like a mother caressing her child to sleep, but the deafening silence refused to go away. It got on his nerves and alerted him to the unpleasant, sterile smell in the room. With a sigh, he opened his eyes, wanting to see what was giving off the awful smell, expecting to see the ceiling he saw everyday. There was the vague notion in his head that he was forgetting something, something important, but he could not quite remember what it was.

He did not see the light green ceiling that his mother had painted the year he was twenty-one. In its place there was a dazzling light and a ceiling that was not quite white. Several other smaller lights dotted the ceiling above him, casting yellowish light that left the room with a healthy glow. Puzzled, his gaze fell downwards, scanning the room around him. Gentle orange light spilled into the room through the windows, which were not covered by the blinds. The floor looked wooden and the room was not his. Shiwoon rubbed his temple for a few moments, struggling to piece together the moments before he had fallen unconscious. Sangmin had asked him to drink, and they had talked and drank into the wee hours of the night, before finally leaving as they were on the cusp of getting drunk. They had gone to hail a taxi…

‘Ah.’

The memories flooded him all at once the moment he thought of the taxi. He couldn’t believe how stupid he had been. Taking a second look at the room around him, he realised that he had most likely been hospitalised as a result. Hunters, even the weakest ones, were more than capable of punching a hole through a metal sheet. A human face… He doubted that he would be able to leave the hospital for a few weeks.

‘Wait.’

He looked down at his body. Someone had taken the clothes off of him and gotten him into the light blue gown that patients wore. Oddly enough, however, there were no tubes on him. He touched his face. While hardly baby-smooth, he could not feel any tender spots, could not feel a mask or a cast. There was a memory of thought extinguishing pain in his mind but his body seemed to have no remnants from the incident. As he examined his body, he finally noticed an odd arc on his right arm that had not been there before. Employers didn’t look too kindly on things like tattoos, he found. The black color of the arc seemed skin-deep, and it was shaped like a crescent moon.

Someone knocked on the door as he was touching his newly found mark. Shiwoon wanted to say ‘come in’ but his voice failed him at the last moment and a soft croak of gibberish came out. After hearing no response despite knocking a few times, the woman in the white outfit of nurses walked into the room. When she saw him awake and prodding at his arm, she seemed only a little surprised.

“Are you feeling better now, sir?” She asked politely.

Shiwoon nodded. He wanted to ask about his condition, but did not know how he ought to phrase it. The direct approach, then. “How long will I have to stay?”

She smiled in the reassuring way that every person who works with unreasonable humans on a daily basis learns. “I’ll go get the doctor and the civil servant to explain to you.” She thought for a moment before adding, “Unless you are hungry or thirsty right now?” After seeing Shiwoon shake his head, she bowed, left the room, leaving behind only the sound of dull shoes pounding against the smooth hospital floor.

Left alone once more, he looked up at the not-quite-white ceiling. There he stayed for a few breaths, before he looked around the room again. It was a spacious room, although the clutter of furniture served to make it look smaller than it really was. Beside his bed, on the right there was a small fridge and a basin of bright pink and red flowers. To the left, there was a typical hospital serving table, as well as shelves and a small area where there was water and a hot water flask and various other snacks. A half full glass of water stood in that area, proudly reflecting tiny prisms where the light above hit it at the right angles. And on the wall opposite his bed he could make out a large television screen, a pair of comfortable looking brown chairs and a long bluish grey couch that extended to the window. Idly, he wondered how much a stay in the room cost. He hoped his family wasn’t footing the bill.

There was another knock on the door. Shiwoon shouted that it was okay to come in and then the nurse from before walked in, followed by a pair of men. One was assuredly a doctor; he wore the typical scrubs. The doctor looked uneasy next to the man standing beside him, small nervous tics punctuating an otherwise serious demeanour. The other man was wearing a charcoal grey suit and tie and black shoes and held a briefcase in his hand. He looked well-coiffed, every bit a respectable man. Shiwoon thought that this had to be the government official the nurse had mentioned.

Shiwoon greeted them, realising then that he had forgotten to do the same for the nurse when she had first walked through. He felt a little ashamed.

The expression on the man in the suit did not soften even as he returned the greeting to Shiwoon. His almost-frown highlighted the wrinkles on his forehead. Say what you will about being professional and serious, but Shiwoon had found that a man who always maintained a stoic face was a man that was difficult to trust. They had learned to hide everything too well.

After a brief pause, the man in the suit licked his lips before speaking. “How are you feeling, Mr. Kim?”

“I’m feeling fine, sir.”

The man in the suit walked over to one of the brown chairs, and took a seat with practiced grace. He opened his briefcase, taking out some papers, before shutting it once more and resting the same sheets of paper on the briefcase like a table.

“Age… twenty six. Son of Kim Roksoo and Choi Sunmi. Currently employed in a 7-Eleven shop as a part-timer. And… seems you borrowed quite a bit before.”

Shiwoon frowned. “So?” Distaste rolled off his tongue easily, as he found himself suddenly confronted by a man who was poking at his sore spot.

The man in the suit shook his head. “I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Kim Sangshik. I work for the Monitoring Bureau.”

'Monitoring Bureau?’

Shiwoon was taken aback by the sudden presence of someone from a government department that did not concern itself with civilians. Then again, considering he had been hospitalised by a Hunter, he suspected that the department had sent someone to be diplomatic and settle the issue without a lawsuit. Perhaps being in such a luxurious ward was another careful arrangement by the department.

“I’ll get straight to the point.” The man said. “Mr. Kim Shiwoon, you have been Blessed.”

Seeing the look of ridicule explode onto Shiwoon’s face, the man chuckled. “You don’t find it odd that you don’t have an injury after being punched by a Hunter? You think any normal human can do that?”

That was a good point, Shiwoon thought. “But…”

Kim Sangshik looked up at the doctor. The doctor nodded and said, “We found you with your cheek and jawbones cracked. Given your friend’s description of the events, as well as the fact that we could not inject anything into your body, we thought it likely that you were newly Blessed and contacted the Monitoring Bureau for a healer to come.”

Kim Sangshik nodded. “You got lucky, Mr. Kim. Your abilities must have manifested after you were knocked out cold. Tell me, don’t you remember waking up all of a sudden, feeling suddenly powerful?”

Shiwoon narrowed his eyes as he thought. Yes, there had been a moment like that, hadn’t there?

“That’s the classic sign of the Blessing.” Kim Sangshik said.

“Why me?” Shiwoon asked.

“Don’t be mistaken. The Blessing manifests itself in humans who have been exposed to Aether leakage at random. And since we live in Seoul, the Dungeons that periodically appear are enough to spread Aether all over the city.”

Shiwoon thought for a moment. “Why are you here then?”

“It is government policy to register every citizen who displays newly manifested abilities and let them know about their boundaries.”

“Boundaries?”

Kim Sangshik nodded. “Yes, boundaries. I’m sure you know by now that Hunters and those with Blessings have a different set of rules applied to them.”

Shiwoon scowled before he could catch himself. Returning to his neutral expression, he said, “What about the Hunter who punched me then?”

With a shake of his head, Kim Sangshik spoke. “He has been subjected to disciplinary actions. Fortunately, he was only E-rank, or you may not be here speaking to me.”

“Will he go to jail?”

“No.”

A familiar anger surged within Shiwoon, but he knew he had to let it die down. This wasn’t the place to be losing his temper, and the person he was speaking to certainly wasn’t the person to be losing his temper at. No, all he could do was trust in the authorities.

Kim Sangshik examined him for a moment in silence before speaking again. “Will you become a Hunter?”

“I don’t know.” Shiwoon admitted.

Kim Sangshik stood up, walking over to Shiwoon with the papers in hand. He passed the papers to Shiwoon, along with a seal that Shiwoon recognised as his own.

“Read through the rules before signing the document at the back with your seal. Your hyung (elder brother) fetched it for us when we asked last night.”

“Ah, yes.”

Helpfully, they had attached a pamphlet that summarised the contents of the following documents. Essentially, most of the rules that applied to broader society still applied to him as a person with a Blessing. However, he was allowed to break these rules if he judged it necessary for the situation. The greatest difference between the life of a civilian and the life ahead of him was simply that any crimes he committed would be under the jurisdiction of the Monitoring Bureau. They were effectively separate from the rest of society. Punishments were meted out on a case by case basis; as a system it seemed to almost invite corruption. Parsing through the other documents left him with the same conclusion. If he was being honest, he did not want to acknowledge it. A part of him did not want to believe, still refused to believe that he had been Blessed. However, Shiwoon could tell that if he refused to sign the document of acknowledgement with his seal, the matter would not be left resting. He thus reluctantly used his seal and signed his name before handing the document back to Kim Sangshik, who was standing beside his hospital bed, still wearing the same glum expression as he received the sheet of paper with both hands.

Licking his lips again, Kim Sangshik opened his briefcase, deposited the papers, before closing it once more. “Well then, I don’t have anything else to say to you. We will pay for one more night, so have a good rest.” He stood up and bowed his head slightly before walking to the door, where he paused while holding on the door handle. Turning back, he said, “And… if by any chance, you wish to become a Hunter, drop by our department.” With that, he opened the door and left the room, followed swiftly after by the doctor and the nurse, who told someone waiting outside that it was okay to go in.

It turned out to be three people; Shiwoon’s mother, brother and Sangmin were all present. His mother went up to him, held his hand in hers without saying a word. His brother placed the food he had bought on the table. On their faces he could see the worry, though they tried their best to hide it. His brother did the best job of it, the smile on his handsome face seeming naturally bright like the afternoon sun.

"Noona (elder sister) couldn't make it but she cooked some food for you." His brother opened the lid. The rich smell of a warm bowl of porridge soon filled the room, as Shiwoon refused his family’s attempts to feed him, while listening to all the things he had missed out while he had been unconscious.

They spoke for a bit before he told them that he wanted to be discharged tomorrow. The nurse and doctor confirmed that he was healthy enough to leave and soon after, his family decided to leave him to rest after Shiwoon told them that he was feeling a little tired. When the lights were all switched off and the curtains pulled shut, the comforting darkness of the room was interrupted only by the dim television, showing a stereotypical drama series about a man trying to live a good life in a terrible world.

In the world lit up only by the television screen, Shiwoon found himself thinking about what he would do next, and was surprised that he already had an answer. It would be a troubling time, he thought, but he knew it was the best chance he had received in his life thus far. Here, finally, was the fulfillment of the promise of the world; that bittersweet lie told to every child that they would change the world. The face of the Hunter who had been slithering up against the woman in the alley and who had punched him when he had disagreed appeared in his mind. Troubled by the future lying ahead, Shiwoon stared up at the ceiling above, which in the darkness seemed the same as the one he saw when he woke up at home.

Just as the man in the drama found a job in the company owned by an old woman he helped on the street, Shiwoon finally fell into a deep sleep.