28 + 10 + 1. A total of 39.
Though he’d lived nearly forty years across two regressions, Cha Eui-sung’s life experience was more limited—and lacking—than he liked to admit.
In both his first and second lives, everything had been filled with nothing but labor, and truthfully, he had barely lived through anything beyond the age of thirty.
Covering up that inevitable insufficiency with effort and tact, Cha Eui-sung sometimes found himself wondering— Was his sense of competence still stuck in the standards of someone in their twenties?
And when facing people who had aged steadily while living real, proper lives… was that why cracks kept showing?
“I suddenly feel like I’ve been given a gift.”
Go Yeong-won murmured, looking genuinely pleased.
Cha Eui-sung didn’t even reach for his cooling teacup, his expression sour.
Now that he thought about it, he was sure he’d heard those exact same words once before.
That was before I officially announced I’d be working with the Association, wasn’t it?
The hazy beginning of his second life drifted into view. At the time, he’d been embarrassed by what he thought was an excessive compliment.
He hadn’t yet realized just how deeply obsessed Go Yeong-won was with his fellow Awakened—or where that obsession even stemmed from.
Narcissistic bastard.
He only understood later. It wasn’t praise directed at Cha Eui-sung as a person. It was merely a fervent glorification of the “kin” Go Yeong-won belonged to—utterly self-centered.
To him, there were only two kinds of people: S-ranks and not.
Go Yeong-won tapped his teacup as if amused.
“This tea is a very expensive variety. It’s got a limited yield, which drives up the premium considerably.”
“Enjoy it, then.”
“That’s the thing—almost no one knows how to steep it properly. You’d hardly ever come across it, and the sellers don’t even bother printing the instructions on the packaging.”
“……”
“It’s delicious.”
Cha Eui-sung couldn’t hold back a twitch of his eyebrow. Yet again, he was learning something he hadn’t known.
The tea had always been stocked in the Association’s reception room, and ordering or managing refreshments had never been his job, even back in his early days.
He had always dealt with major affairs from the very beginning.
They said he started from the bottom, but being an S-rank—and being under Oh Se-dan’s supervision—meant that “the bottom” still came with privileges.
“Life as an S-rank has gotten pretty nice lately, you know. I’m sure you’re aware that Hunter Ji Ha-yul and I both transferred to the Association.”
“Are you suggesting I come clean about my Awakening and join the Association now?”
“No. To be honest, if it weren’t for the risks involved, I’d say it’s better to stay unregistered. Getting forcibly tied to something only benefits other people.”
“Then why bring this up?”
“Because ‘what ifs’ exist. I don’t want to see a fellow kin suffer.”
And there he goes again with that ridiculous line.
If he’d illegally accessed the health screening results from the year Cha Eui-sung turned twenty, he’d know full well—Cha Eui-sung had lived over twenty years as a civilian.
The fact that he treated pain experienced before Awakening as someone else’s problem, and pain experienced after as a kin’s burden—
It was so twisted it was almost innovative.
Not that I’m exactly fond of that period of my life, either.
Cha Eui-sung had cut off his first life entirely during this regression. That wasn’t remotely comparable to Go Yeong-won’s neat but warped way of thinking.
“Anyway, that’s why I’m asking—why did you hide your Awakening? And how the hell did you clear the Jeongchoduk Dungeon in secret?”
“…I never cleared that dungeon.”
Go Yeong-won laughed out loud at the feigned surprise on his face. Taking another sip of tea, he continued slowly.
“There were three S-rank monsters inside the Jeongchoduk Dungeon. We got caught off guard and took a real beating—dislocated my shoulder twice, can you believe it? But right after we barely managed to clear all of them, the dungeon changed again.”
“Not really something I need to know—”
“For some reason, there were four monster corpses when we finished. One was a golem-type I’m certain I didn’t kill. There was also trash scattered around the area.”
“Trash?”
“Rotted clothes, a baby wipes container, a broken steel pipe used as a weapon. I can’t quite explain it, but it felt exactly like a boss room that had been reset after a battle twenty years ago was suddenly brought back.”
“That’s… interesting.”
“Right? The Association thought so too.”
You fucking bastard.
Cha Eui-sung nearly shut his eyes on reflex.
Beneath the table, his hand began to tremble.
Everything Go Yeong-won had just described sounded awfully familiar—almost like he was describing the scene from when Cha Eui-sung first cleared the Jeongchoduk Dungeon.
You son of a bitch. Show yourself.
He instinctively summoned the System, but the king who should’ve been monitoring this mess didn’t seem inclined to appear.
Trying to write off the dungeon reset with “some traces were left behind”?
He was ready to scream.
“If it weren’t for that whole incident, I probably wouldn’t have thrown my little tantrum. So in a way, I guess it felt like fate.”
“……”
“Anyway, all the items disintegrated the moment we crossed back through the portal, but the idea that someone might’ve been there really caught everyone’s attention. So I figured I’d mention it, just in case.”
An event that had never occurred in dungeon history had happened—and been reported to the Association, no less. The real danger wasn’t that an S-rank had been spotted nearby—it was this.
Luckily, the traces had all vanished.
Unless someone had a weird ability like Go Yeong-won’s, it’d be nearly impossible to identify who had been there.
Why the hell is life so hard?
He hadn’t even seen Moon Tae-young in days, and now he had to deal with this the moment he woke up. The stress was getting out of hand.
No matter how busy he was, it wasn’t like the guy didn’t have time to see him—but Moon Tae-young kept pushing back their meetings, and that had already been gnawing at him. And now, he’d accidentally uncovered one of Go Yeong-won’s secrets, adding yet another thing to worry about.
…Able to recognize S-ranks, huh.
Eyes the color of hazelnuts, clear and penetrating.
Cha Eui-sung stared at him silently, thinking: There was no way he could ever let this bastard meet Moon Tae-young.
If he couldn’t redirect this freakish S-rank fetishist’s gaze away from the village, then he’d at least have to make sure it stayed focused on him.
He could already picture the look Go Yeong-won would wear the moment he laid eyes on Moon Tae-young—grinning like a fool at his personal Demon King.
Just the thought of it made his stomach churn.
Clink.
Each time Go Yeong-won sipped his tea, Cha Eui-sung silently clenched his fist, wishing he could pull off a poison-suicide that would actually work.
***
“I almost couldn’t make it. There’s been a lot on my mind.”
Lying back on the couch and murmuring that aloud, the expected question came: Have you been busy with work?
All sorts of incidents and disasters flashed through his head, but there wasn’t much he could actually say out loud.
“I’ve been up in Seoul since the day before yesterday. Nothing urgent to take care of, really. I just… thought it’d be better to get away for a bit.”
When he sidestepped the question and brought up something else, silence followed—as if telling him to go on. Instead of turning toward the direction the voice came from, Cha Eui-sung stared blankly up at the clean ceiling, lost in thought.
Ah… so this is why every therapist’s office has a couch. So you don’t have to look them in the face.
That dawn, after Go Yeong-won had left, Cha Eui-sung sat at the empty dining table for a long time. The untouched tea still lingered faintly at the tip of his nose. Originally, he’d planned to contact Moon Tae-young the moment the sun rose.
Texting and calling back and forth had grown boring. He was going to say something stupid like, Don’t you want to see me?
Something out of character, just to coax him into meeting up. It wasn’t like Tae-young would complain about meeting late at night. If anything, Cha Eui-sung just wanted to shorten the time they spent apart, however he could.
But after dealing with that uninvited guest, his mindset changed. Not seeing Moon Tae-young for a day or two didn’t even register as a priority anymore.
He calmly deleted the contact information Go Yeong-won had so presumptuously left behind. Then, with an impassive face, he went back and re-read the texts they’d exchanged until now.
[What are you doing?]
[Was in class.]
[Busy again today?]
[Yeah, unfortunately.]
[You are actually bummed, right?]
[Of course.]
— 20XX.XX.XX
[Tae-young.]
[Hey. Moon Tae-young.]
[Are you by any chance training for a national field day or something?]
[Sorry. Just saw this.]
[I ignored three of your calls, so I’ll forgive you.]
[So are you picking up this time?]
[We’ll see.]
— 20XX.XX.XX
[Got a bit too much fruit. Leaving it by your door.]
[Why leave it outside? Come in.]
[Thought you were asleep.]
[I wasn’t. Just watching something. Something right by the door.]
— 20XX.XX.XX
Honestly, there was nothing particularly upsetting about any of it. It wasn’t like before, when he was the only one reaching out and clinging on. If anything, it felt… unexpectedly restrained. Besides, the one being insincere in the relationship was him. Still, that twinge of disappointment meant he’d gotten more emotionally invested in this assignment than he thought.
After all, during the encounter with the Outer God, the time he’d spent worrying about Moon Tae-young’s reaction was far longer than the time spent assessing the danger itself. What more could he say? It wasn’t exactly a healthy professional mindset.
Resting his forehead in one hand, Cha Eui-sung gazed blankly down at his phone.
[Appointment Confirmation: Dr. Jeong Seong-hyu’s Clinic
Cha Eui-sung, your session is scheduled for 20XX/XX/XX at 4:20 PM. Please notify us in advance if you need to reschedule.]
As luck would have it, last month’s self-inflicted burden had come back around. And now that Go Yeong-won had locked on to him, he’d already been planning to avoid Moon Tae-young for the next few days anyway.
“I’d like to see you from time to time. It’ll be fun, I promise.”
“You can make that offer with that “don’t say no” face all you want.”
“I swear, I won’t use any secrets we share against you. I just want to spend time together, that’s all.”
“You do realize that just makes it sound creepier, right?”
Cha Eui-sung abruptly stood and began packing. Not that there was much to pack—just a few clothes and some electronics, as always.
[Heading out for a few days. Need to clear my head.]
He left a short text and got into the rental car provided by the insurance company. The unfamiliar vehicle hummed beneath him as he drove down the road, and several times, the phone he’d deliberately tossed into the backseat vibrated. He ignored it and kept his eyes on the road. Because you’re supposed to focus while driving, after all.
Not that he’s ever been that focused while driving before…
❤️❤️