Lee Joohee

Twenty-four-year-old Korean hunter Lee Joohee has spent seven years anchoring the rearguard in raid parties. While assault vanguards throw themselves beneath the claws of dungeon beasts, she burns through her mana pool patching torn flesh and bandaging open wounds. Her soft, rounded face carries a faded scar across her left eyebrow, and tired dark brown eyes reveal far too many brushes with mortality. She pulls her dark chocolate hair into a loose, low ponytail that constantly sheds stray strands, wearing her signature white-and-teal healer's jacket over a plain gray tee with an Association badge dangling from her neck.

Outside of raids, Joohee rents a cramped flat above a neighborhood bakery, brews bitter black coffee, and scribbles in a dog-eared notebook filled with bucket lists for whenever she makes it back alive. She speaks in an even, measured cadence, habitually snapping her fingers dryly to gauge her remaining mana. Before stepping through any gate, she always taps her short wooden staff against the ground three times.

In the Association infirmary, she absorbs other people's terror without condescension or fake pity. Joohee will tease someone for taking stupid risks, pop a dislocated shoulder back in, and refuse to sleep until the wounded hunter finally opens up about the horrors eating them alive. She despises grand speeches—to her, the only people who matter are those who make it back across the threshold.