The Tone-Deaf Healer Kills with a Song - Chapter 33

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Tone-Deaf Healer Kills with Song – Episode 033
Since we were touching, I felt his flinch more distinctly. I decided to wait just three seconds, and if he seemed uncomfortable, I’d pull back. The moment that thought crossed my mind, Jung Hwan-jae carefully grasped my hand and interlaced our fingers.
My hand wasn’t particularly small either, but within his, it felt completely engulfed. I looked down at our intertwined hands before finally speaking.
“Guild Master, this is rather sudden.”
“…Yes, okay.”
“Should we reorganize how we address each other? Instead of Guild Master, Jung Hwan-jae, senior, and all that—just one way?”
I lifted my gaze to study his face.
I’d never seen it before. Jung Hwan-jae’s face flushed such a deep crimson. In the instant my eyes widened involuntarily, I caught him nodding slowly.
“Yes, let’s do that. What should I call you?”
Looking back now, Jung Hwan-jae’s hand that day seemed unusually warm.

* * *
“This is Jelly Terrain? Not slimes?”
“Yes, jelly. It’s edible.”
“What?”
“Watch your step, Yea.”
We settled on calling each other “senior” and “Yea.” I’d thought calling him “Jung Hwan-jae” might be better, but his argument was that someone outside might have already heard people calling him senior, so it was safer this way.
I had no idea who would actually remember that, but I acquiesced quietly. Besides, since I’d been calling him that all along, it felt more comfortable anyway.
However, he opposed dropping formal speech entirely. To be precise, he said I could do it, but he couldn’t.
So instead, he suggested we both use formal speech with each other.
“So everything here is edible?”
“I think it’s easiest to understand if you imagine something like the witch’s house from Hansel and Gretel.”
After Kim Kyung-hoon was released from the Hunter Association, he vanished without a trace. When he insisted on making tracking him the top priority, I had no idea how to stop him from stepping forward.
Sung Mi-ju and Sung Ji-wook were equally furious. They declared that touching a healer from Hanttae was equivalent to making the entire guild an enemy.
‘Could hostility itself be a casting method?’
‘That’s all lies. You can cast by making sound with an object. The catch is it has to be touching your body. Plus, the target you’re trying to cast on has to be able to hear it.’
I recalled those particularly sharp, clicking footsteps. Not all healing skills would be cast through sound, but there was a subtle commonality that bothered me.
Besides, producing sound through clothing was far easier than singing. The casting method was simple, and he was skilled at it.
Perhaps that was why my spirits sank.
‘Yea, then I’d like to help you…’
‘I don’t want to keep taking up senior’s time. I want to be helpful.’
When I flatly refused his request, he seemed to wear a slightly dejected expression. But that wasn’t what mattered.
If Jung Hwan-jae didn’t help me, I couldn’t save myself—if this pattern continued, I’d become nothing but a burden.
Throughout my self-training, I had to keep deliberating. What path should I choose to improve further?
That’s when Jung Hwan-jae made another proposal to me. This time, he framed it as asking for my help instead. He made clear it wasn’t instruction—it was assistance.
[Liri: Even if it’s just a kindness, wouldn’t it be better to accept it, Yea?]
[Liri: Your debuff right now might be an absolute lack of experience. To know the direction, you need to gain experience. But rejecting help just because you’re reluctant to receive it means throwing away all those opportunities. That’s not a good attitude.]
Without Liri’s words at that moment, I might have wasted time in indecision. Someone who offers appropriate advice when I’m troubled. I was deeply grateful to Liri, my handler.
After that, Jung Hwan-jae often took me to dungeons. He chose places with the most diverse terrain, strange formations, and unexpected monsters.
While not at a high level, I did learn new songs. My singing technique and creative skill improved subtly.
Creative Technique C-
Vocal Performance E+
Mi-ju and Sung Ji-wook, who had willingly sacrificed themselves for my sake, repeated the cycle of listening to a single verse and fainting until I reached E+.
Now they could endure up to a full verse without collapsing. Unfortunately, merely improving my vocal skill didn’t seem enough to prevent the fainting.
Only Jung Hwan-jae had weathered all of it. He didn’t faint even after hearing my song, and once I surpassed E, his expression became remarkably composed.
“Jung Hwan-jae, I’m curious about something.”
“If you’re asking whether you can taste what’s here, absolutely not.”
….
‘Does he really think I’d ask something like that? I’m not a child. Honestly, if I could eat it, I’d be tempted to try, but.’
[Liri: I’m against it too. The composition of that thing is certainly similar to Earth’s snacks, but we have no idea what kind of reaction it might cause inside a human body.]
‘I understand… But I’m not the type to act on such reckless impulses.’
As we passed over the appetizing jelly terrain, something resembling a cookie drifted through the air.
When I let out a single sharp cry, it shattered limply as if struck by a hammer, so it didn’t seem particularly durable.
The squishy floor recoiled with each sound I made, causing my body to sway. If Jung Hwan-jae’s hand hadn’t been supporting my waist, I might have stumbled backward several times.
“What I wanted to ask is—when I sing, or rather, something like that even if it doesn’t sound like singing—what kind of barrier appears?”
“Barrier?”
“Like some kind of protective shield activating, or something helping prevent mental attacks or fainting. Actually, I’m just curious why you don’t faint.”
He stared at me intently.
I couldn’t very well test this on other rankers. If I suddenly showed up and sang, and they fainted as a result, that would be a war in itself.
Maybe I shouldn’t have asked. As the silence stretched longer, I felt cold sweat trickling down my spine.
When he doesn’t speak properly, it’s usually because what he has to say might hurt me.
“Yea, I’m not saying this because you’re tone-deaf or because there’s a problem with your singing.”
“I know I’m tone-deaf and there is a problem with my singing. And you don’t need to dress it up for me. I’m aware I have issues, and I won’t be hurt by you saying so.”
“But if I say something disparaging about you, it bothers me.”
The human heart is so fragile. Seeing him gaze at me with a dejected expression made my own heart soften.
The problem was that I began thinking I shouldn’t treat myself carelessly, if only to consider his feelings.
“Fine. I’ll stop being reckless with myself, so tell me.”
“The champion of the ranking tournament—the first-place winner—receives a certain privilege.”
He moved forward as if to speak while walking. The terrain beneath us gradually shifted from jelly to something muddier.
It resembled mud, but the air carried an unmistakable scent of chocolate. The overwhelming sweetness made me grimace without thinking.
This time, Jung Hwan-jae pushed off the ground and leaped into the air as if taking his turn. The sickle, now familiar in his hands, cleaved through the air and obliterated everything in sight.
Behind him, I whistled.
Rat Chasing is activated.
This skill is triggered when I sing the sheet music ‘A Warrior’s Funeral March’, which I obtained from a dungeon not long ago.
Unlike other songs, this one operates through whistling. It likely stems from the legend of the Pied Piper.
‘[Liri: The Valkyrie Network extracts and provides information from all recorded worlds and universes. Since you haven’t created any original songs yet, you can perform songs that were created to transmit certain fairy tales or legends. Your country has something similar too—the Seodongyo.]’
Since this song has no lyrics, it uses whistling instead.
Liri told me that when a song is written, she can perceive the emotions and stories contained within it.
This was the background music of a play. And this melody became Jung Hwan-jae’s buff.
Damage received by enemies tripled. He doesn’t need such assistance, but there’s no other time to practice. He seemed to understand, offering no objection to my actions.
Jung Hwan-jae descended lightly beside me and yanked me out of the chocolate like pulling up a radish, then began walking.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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