That Face Is the Problem - Chapter 1.1
01. I Do Not Love
“Eup… uheuk… ohheuhuk….”
In a dirty bar tucked in a corner, where an old emotional ballad from years ago drifted through the speakers, a ghost-like crying sound mixed in between the background music.
At 7 p.m., customers who had come in for evening drinks recoiled at the gloomy atmosphere and left. The owner glared at the customer crying in the corner, clearly displeased, but he could not bring himself to say anything harsh because of the number of bottles and side dishes the man had ordered.
The problem customer had already emptied three bottles of soju, two bottles of beer, and five plates of snacks in about an hour.
“Eup…!”
As the sorrowful melody carried the rough, beast-like voice of a male singer crooning, What should I do, how should I go on, I dare to love her, the customer in the corner burst into even louder sobs. Still, he must have had enough awareness not to ruin someone’s business, because he shoved his fist into his mouth and tried his best to muffle his cries.
This would not do. After watching the tall, broad-shouldered drunk radiating a dark aura, the bar owner finally made up his mind and stood up. He lowered his head and approached the man who was deep in his fist-muffled crying, then shook his shoulder.
“Excuse me, sir. I am sorry, but…”
“Huhuek… y, yes, h-hic, yes…?”
The customer lifted his head with trembling shoulders. The owner froze when he saw his face.
He is… fine? No, he is not just fine. He is handsome!
What first grabbed the owner’s attention were the man’s tear-soaked eyes. The strangely grayish pupils shimmered with tears, and his slightly swollen eyelids were flushed red in a way that looked enticing. His longish black bangs were soaked with tears and stuck flat against his forehead, which made him look even more pure and delicate. His pale skin was flushed red from alcohol and crying, stirring impure thoughts in whoever looked at him.
“W, wait. Why is a good-looking guy like you sniffling so sadly? Did you get dumped?”
Without thinking, the owner spoke informally to the handsome young man, and… it stirred the already sensitive man.
“Uhk, kheuk! Y, yes! I g, got dumped… I got dumped… uheuuuk!”
At that moment, a crumpled envelope fell from the man’s pocket. The owner kindly picked it up for him.
“Hm? A wedding invitation. You dropped this, sir.”
“Wed… wedding invitation… huuek! A wedding invitation!”
“O… oh dear.”
The owner placed the crumpled invitation on the table and stepped back. He instinctively sensed that this was someone he should not provoke further.
“Huuu… khuu… someday I really wanted to confess… uheong…”
The man collapsed onto the table and began full-on wailing. The owner turned up the volume of the background music for him. It was the minimum loyalty he could show as a fellow man.
“Do not go, please do not go.” The sorrowful, cattle-herding vocal technique of the male singer fell softly over the weeping customer.
***
Jeong Jae-gyeong. Twenty-seven years old. Height 185 centimeters. Handsome face. An A-rank combat-type hunter. A holy knight who serves as the chief tanker of JK Guild, with a considerable fanbase.
Anyone would look at him and gasp in admiration, yet he had been dumped a few days ago by receiving a wedding invitation. He had not even confessed once.
For three years, he had secretly liked the guild’s in-house lawyer. A woman who was showily pretty enough to draw everyone’s attention, yet with a cute side. She was unawakened, but she had a firm personality and was brave enough to stand her ground even with the guild master, which made him admire her even more.
The problem was that Jae-gyeong was far too timid and inexperienced to confess. On top of that, guild work kept him busy, and after work there were always people inviting him out for meals, so he never had time.
He had run confession simulations every day. Preparing flowers, writing a love letter, packing a lunchbox…
But suddenly giving her flowers felt too burdensome. A love letter was impossible because he was terrible at writing. As for a lunchbox, every time he attempted serious cooking, the result ended up in the food-waste bin.
Jae-gyeong was so timid and inadequate that while searching for something he could do for her, three whole years had slipped by. He still had not settled on a confession method, but he believed that if he one day gathered the courage, the angelic woman would surely smile for him.
But then…
‘Ah, Hunter Jeong Jae-gyeong.’
She had spoken to him first.
‘Oh, y-yes yes yes! H, hello, h-hello…’
He stuttered like an idiot, but the beautiful woman did not mind. Instead, she smiled brightly and handed him an envelope of some sort.
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