Regression Guidelines For the Supporting Character

So many thoughts came to mind—but all of them were personal, and none worth saying out loud.
Letting out a faint sigh, Park Minhyuk straightened his posture from where he’d been leaning against the doorframe and gestured with his hand.
“Follow me.”
The break room wasn’t far.
The one Park Minhyuk led him to was a standard lounge with a sofa and some light refreshments laid out.
After carefully checking that no one was in the hallway or the room itself, Cha Seohu stepped inside and immediately locked the door behind him.
“Team Leader, let me ask you for a favor.”
“…!”
Caught off guard, his arm was grabbed.
Park Minhyuk reflexively lowered his gaze—and came face-to-face with Seohu’s pitch-black eyes staring straight up at him.
“A favor, out of nowhere… what are you—”
“From what I heard earlier, the next test is where they’ll start examining my skills more directly, right?”
Cha Seohu stepped in closer. His eyes shimmered under the midday sunlight streaming through the window.
“As you know, my buff skill has side effects, right?”
“Th-that’s true, but why bring that up…?”
“What do you mean why? Think about it. What good would it do if that were made public?”
“…Don’t tell me…”
Realizing where this was going, Park Minhyuk quickly pulled his arm free.
Frowning, he glared at Cha Seohu with sharp suspicion.
“So that’s why you wanted to see me. No. Absolutely not. You’re here to deceive them again?”
“A side effect like that is worth hiding—even if it means lying.”
“This is a state-run official examination. Do you really think it’s that easy to lie and cover things up?”
“Why wouldn’t it be? Now, listen closely.”
Cha Seohu gave a long, slow smile and lightly placed a hand on Park Minhyuk’s shoulder.
“Why am I even here in the first place? Because I used my skill in a wide-area buff inside the Great Dungeon’s boss room. And when I used it as a wide-area effect, there were no side effects. You were there. You saw it.”
“Well, that’s…”
It was true.
Park Minhyuk had experienced both types of Seohu’s buffs—through direct contact and as a wide-area effect.
The wide-area buff in the boss room had been a little weaker than the contact-based version, but it came with zero side effects. Clean and simple.
“If the wide-area buff had side effects too, hiding it would be impossible. But it didn’t. Out of the hundred or so Hunters who received it, none know about the side effect. Only a few people do. You’re one of them.”
“…Are you saying the other S-ranks will just keep your secret without any threats?”
“Threats? That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?”
Cha Seohu pouted playfully—but he didn’t deny it either.
“…”
Park Minhyuk recalled what he had seen inside the Great Dungeon.

The S-ranks that lingered around Cha Seohu.
The Guildmaster of Yesung, the Guildmaster and Vice-Guildmaster of Circle. And his younger brother.
The brother is missing now, though.
From what he’d heard, they were searching diligently but hadn’t found a single trace.
There was also that kid in a cap who looked like a high schooler—he’d vanished too.
Which meant only Kwon Taehyuk, Ryu Sunghyun, and Song Jiwoon remained.
They all seemed extremely close to Seohu…
No one else but Park Minhyuk could testify to this.
Damn it. His head throbbed.
“Even so, I can’t lie to the government. And the skill’s side effect will stay with you for life—there’s a limit to how long you can hide it. Eventually, it’ll be discovered. It’s better to disclose everything cleanly and register it properly.”
“Why not?”
“…What?”
“Why can’t I lie to the government? If I want to, I can.”
Letting out a short snort, Cha Seohu tilted his head with his arms crossed.
“What’s the government ever done for me? And if things go south, I’m the one who pays the price alone.”
That cynical response made Park Minhyuk’s face harden.
“You’re being childish. Hunter Cha Seohu, what do you think would happen if everyone acted like you—registering as Awakeners with false information just to protect their own interests? Everyone puts up with inconvenience, follows proper procedures, registers their personal information, pays their taxes, and lives within the rules. That’s what keeps the system working. Sure, we don’t live in a world without crime—but people try to obey the law, and that’s why things are this stable.”
Even being called immature didn’t seem to bother Cha Seohu.
Staring calmly at Park Minhyuk, he gently touched the corner of his mouth.
“Mmm… I see.”
With a slow blink, Seohu continued.
“So basically, you don’t care if people look at me like a freak or badmouth me.”
“What? That’s not what I—”
“But it is, isn’t it? You just said the nation is more important than the individual.”
“And how does that lead to a conclusion like this? Every Hunter deals with side effects. That’s not something to be ashamed—”
“Is it really not?”
Cha Seohu smiled faintly.
“Since when have people ever needed a reason to insult someone? If I’m immature, then you’re way too naïve, Team Leader.”
“…Hunter Cha Seohu.”
“My buff requires physical contact, and the side effect triggers forced pleasure? Sure, I have rare multi-skill traits and an S-rank buff, so people will praise me at first. But how long do you think that’ll last?”
“…”
“‘Isn’t that dangerous?’ ‘Shouldn’t he avoid buffing just anyone, considering the side effects?’ That kind of pressure will start—disguised as concern. And then it’ll escalate. ‘How’s that any different from prostitution?’ ‘How intense is the pleasure?’ ‘I bet sleeping with him feels amazing.’ Crude sexual harassment will follow.”
Park Minhyuk fell silent.
The monotonous tone of Seohu’s voice somehow made it even more draining to hear.
He couldn’t offer any sort of rebuttal.
“Any Hunter associated with me will get dragged into it. Buffing someone in public will become increasingly difficult. And if it gets worse, people will start throwing around slurs like ‘whore’ or ‘sex freak.’”
There was nothing he could say.
The truth was, even now, there were already disgusting comments on news articles—especially whenever a Hunter with physical-contact-based skills was mentioned.
Those kinds of Hunters barely got attention, yet they still got insulted. If Seohu became a high-profile figure…
And if the side effects became public…
Just imagining it was exhausting.
Pressing his fingers to the corners of his eyes, Park Minhyuk looked worn down. Seohu simply gave a light shrug.
“Well, honestly, why would you care what happens to me? It’s not like you’re wrong either. Laws are there for a reason. If we start making exceptions for every little thing, everything falls apart fast.”
“Hunter Cha Seohu. I…”
“You called it blackmail earlier, didn’t you? I’m sorry, but this isn’t blackmail. It’s a warning.”
He spoke softly, like he was whispering a secret.
“If you want me to finish this exam quietly, just cooperate. The reason I followed the Association here without causing a scene is because I know I could flip everything and walk away at any time. You don’t actually think I came here because I was powerless, do you?”
“…Ha.”
“I’m not asking for much. I’ll just change the side effect to something more harmless. If that’s taken care of, I promise I’ll behave. No trouble.”
Lowering the hand from his eyes, Park Minhyuk looked directly at Cha Seohu.
Seohu saw the shift ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) in his expression—saw the decision—and smiled in satisfaction.
***
First floor security office, Hunter Association Central Building.
A security guard stretched and yawned as he stared at the dozens of CCTV feeds filling the wall.
“Ugh, look at all those people. Why are there so many reporters today?”
“Didn’t you see the article? Some incredible Hunter came in for a re-test. They’re all waiting for the results.”
“There’s still way too many of them. Is it an S-rank?”
“Something about a triple-something. I can’t keep up with what kids these days say.”
“Man, I don’t care about that stuff. I just hope the reporters don’t cause trouble. Management’s been riding our asses lately, and my head’s already pounding.”
Scratching his unshaven jaw, the guard glanced at the clock.
“What’s with that delivery we ordered earlier? It’s been almost an hour.”
“Want me to call?”
Just as his junior reached for his phone, stomach growling—
Thud, thud!
A loud knock rang out from the heavy metal door connected to the outside.
“Oh, that must be it.”
The staff member jumped to his feet and ran over.
“Yes, coming!”
Creak. As the door opened, a man stood waiting.
A broad-shouldered figure in a black jumper zipped all the way up to his neck, holding a motorcycle helmet under one arm.
Striking crimson-orange hair. Ears full of piercings. He immediately drew attention.
The staff member blinked in surprise, and the man flashed a relaxed smile—revealing sharp fangs between his slightly parted lips.
His grin looked like a mischievous kid just about to cause trouble.
He lightly pushed the dazed guard on the shoulder.
“H-Huh?”
With just that casual gesture, the staffer stumbled and fell to the ground hard.
The man who’d shoved him gently leaned forward and stepped through the doorway.
“Hope you don’t mind if I come in.”