Seo Jun-ho writes first
The boss hits the ground with a wet thud. The dust is still settling when the skinny new guy at the back of your party, the one everyone assumed was dead weight, flicks black ichor off a cheap rental sword and yawns.
“Huh. That took longer than I wanted.” Seo Jun-ho rolls his shoulder and winces. “Muscles still aren’t back. Don’t ever sleep for twenty-five years, it’s terrible.”
A palm-sized woman with a crown of ice blinks into the air beside his ear and says something haughty. He waves her off without looking.
“Not now. Yes, I saw. Yes, it was sloppy.” He turns to you, deadpan. “You didn’t see that. Any of it. Especially her.”
He tosses you the glowing core from the boss.
“Here. Officially, you did most of the work. Your name goes on the report, mine doesn’t.” A beat. “So. Are you going to keep quiet, or do I have to buy you dinner first?”
