The Tone-Deaf Healer Kills with a Song - Episode 6

-You have arrived at the 27th floor. Doors opening. Have a pleasant time at Hanttae today.

During the elevator ride, I rehearsed introductions.

Hello, I’m Yeom Ye-ah. 

Good morning. I’m Yeom Ye-ah, new to Hanttae Guild…..? 

Hunter! Yeom Ye-ah reporting!

…Maybe silence would be better.

Stepping out of the elevator, I walked down the corridor. Beyond the lobby, only room numbers marked the doors—an intentional obscurity, it seemed.

[2701]

I stood before the luxuriously textured velvet door, taking a deep breath.

This wasn’t like establishing dominance with troublesome convenience store customers or showing off in an interview.

I’d proven my worth. Hanttae Guild had sought me out.

After this self-pep talk, I knocked firmly, though the soft surface seemed to muffle the sound.

“…”

Assuming my knock had sufficed, I pushed the door open with my shoulder and entered.

A man stood in the massive hall, gazing out the window with his back to the door. The room’s scale was startling given how tightly packed the hallway had been.

Standing serenely in what looked like a private office, he turned slowly after the door closed.

“Ah, goo- good morning. I’m Yeom Ye-ah, newly joining…”

My voice faltered. The man seemed familiar.

If there was someone from Hanttae I should recognize, only one person fit: yesterday’s scythe-wielder who hired me. My gaze drifted to the desk’s nameplate.

[Jung Hwan]

“I’m Guild Leader Jung-hwan.”

“Ah, that…”

Unmistakably yesterday’s person. The guild leader himself had come to meet me?

He crossed the room in long strides, stopping abruptly before me. His gaze fell to my bag.

“Masnam’s Minguk?”

“Pardon?”

“There.”

He pointed at my paper bag—the largest I owned, bearing a local pork trotter restaurant’s logo.

Embarrassed, I held it out with both hands. Jung-hwan took it reflexively, studying me.

“It’s yesterday’s coat! They said it was equipment so they couldn’t dry clean it—I’m sorry if there’s dust!”

“Ah… Did you open it?”

“What? No. But I kept the jewel safe.”

“Jewel?”

He tilted his head, reaching into the bag. He held up what the laundry owner had given me.

“This looks like a jewel to you?”

“…Yes, or cubic zirconia?”

“It is a jewel.”

After a peculiar look, he took the paper bag with the coat.

As I awaited instructions, Jung-hwan gestured to the side.

A sci-fi-worthy scanner stood there.

“It reads others’ stats arbitrarily. Please stand there. We need your basic condition.”

“Yes!”

Grateful for direction, I hurried to the scanner.

Purple light flashed like an X-ray. Immediately, a status window materialized—visible not just to me.

Yeom Ye-ah (??)

Class: Musical Healing Mage

Status (Baldur New Gift Applied)

Strength: C+

Speed: D+

Magic Power: B+

??: Currently Unmeasurable

Creative Technique: F

Singing: F-

He studied each character carefully.

Still struggling to comprehend, he stared at the singing stat before speaking tensely.

“The class confirms you’re a healer. Though I experienced it firsthand, we needed verification.”

“Ah, natural.”

“Some guilds try infiltrating with fake healers to find Hanttae’s location. I personally verify all healers.”

So I wasn’t special after all.

My briefly elevated self-esteem crashed back down.

Noting my expression, he rolled his eyes, seeming to weigh both facts and atmosphere.

“…Healers are valuable. We gladly pay millions for good ones. You’re valuable, Ms. Yeom.”

“Thank you…”

“One issue: your skill proficiency is too low for treating others.”

Hope given, then taken.

Still, my abilities had been verified—no first-day tears as an intern.

Self-esteem dropped but relief rose—net zero.

“Um, yes.”

“I’m considering having you as my personal healer until your proficiency increases, then moving you to team formations. Acceptable? Pay won’t be less than team assignments.”

He explained he’d called me for employment contracts and official registration.

“This hunter contract is Baldur-certified, with joint liability if broken. Guild leader certification automatically grants hunter qualification without separate registration. I take responsibility.”

“What?”

“If we exceed the contract or harm you, all involved employers suffer permanent stat reductions proportional to violations.”

“…That’s definitive.”

While I spent dozens of minutes reviewing pages, researching terms online, Jung-hwan waited patiently.

After signing Hanttae’s standard contract and receiving my regular teleport card, he produced another document.

“This is for becoming my personal healer. Term lasts until your skill-related stats reach C.”

“…Singing and creative technique, right?”

“Yes, you need at least C to care for Hanttae’s hunters.”

My current F stats made it seem hopeless. I smiled wryly, reaching for the pen.

“Wait.”

“Yes?”

“Shouldn’t you negotiate or consider whether I’m trying to exploit you? Be more careful than with the employment contract.”

“Ah…”

‘Should I have treated you as a potential scammer?’

He assumed the role himself, thoroughly explaining industry-standard payment and conditions, complete with statistics, given my contract inexperience, before offering the pen again.

It felt like sophisticated marketing emphasizing Hanttae’s integrity.

Our signed contract scattered into purple fragments.

Contract certified under Baldur’s authority. Terms now under judgment’s watch.

“Did you see a contract-related status window?”

“Yes!”

“Jung Hwan-jae.”

“Pardon?”

“Good to know your coworker’s name.”

His intimidating look warned against disclosure before he changed subjects.

“Let’s spend a month developing your skill proficiency with me. What did you do before?”

I studied his face as he asked.