“It’s my fault. All of this is… fuck! You worthless piece of shit…!”
“Stop. Stop it. Don’t do that.”
The man who had been sobbing lashes out, unable to control his emotions, slamming his own head with his fist. Moon Tae-young drops to his knees and grabs hold of him, trying to stop him, and the man lets out a ragged moan, panting in pain. Did he burst a blood vessel? Thick, bright-red blood clung stickily to his restrained hands.
“Because I—nghk—I did this, so I….”
The muttering, half-dazed voice was so faint, it felt like a breeze could scatter it to dust. Watching that pitiful sight, Moon Tae-young was crying. Tears streamed down his twisted face without pause. Was he even someone capable of crying? The question barely had time to form—his head hurt too much to ponder it. He just wanted to see that face a little more clearly…
His vision blurred again—and then, clarity. Cha Eui-sung felt his consciousness plummet, violently yanked back to reality, stomach lurching with the drop.
***
“…Sung…!”
“……”
“…Hey!”
“Kuhk, kek— blegh!”
A rush of hot liquid surged into his mouth. Still half-blind and barely able to hear, Cha Eui-sung spat it all out on reflex. His stomach flipped, and a sharp, splitting pain pierced his skull.
“Huff—haa… haa…”
His mind went completely blank. All he could feel was the dreadful aftertaste of a lingering memory and a splitting headache. Even mustering a bit of strength felt impossible—he lay there limp, gasping. He still thought he could hear someone sobbing desperately in his ears. A storm of unbearable emotion crashed down on him, intense and strange.
Somewhere between the waves of pain, he slowly became aware of his current situation. Again… another episode while asleep? This damn skill could easily activate while washing up in the bathroom, so why did it always have to trigger on someone else’s bed?
Crushed beneath the weight of both pain and irritation, Cha Eui-sung suddenly froze.
Someone else’s bed?
Now that his hearing was clearing up a little, he noticed someone calling his name. There was also the dulled sensation of someone shaking him…
“…Sung!”
“…Tae… Moon Tae-young.”
He mumbled instinctively and lifted his head. Through his blurry, half-cleared vision, a pale face started to take form. It was Moon Tae-young, clearly flustered, gently shaking him with a panicked look on his face. And then, memories from just before he fell asleep slammed back into place.
Oh, fuck.
Right. They’d fallen asleep together. Same room, same bed. And now, in the middle of the night, his skill had activated again. He didn’t know how long it had been going on, but he was sure he’d shown Tae-young yet another horrific sight.
“Eui-sung, are you okay? Are you with me now?”
“…Keh-hek.”
Instead of answering, he coughed up more blood and hastily reached out a hand. He managed to catch the dripping mess in his palm, but it was too late—the blanket was already soaked in red. A scarlet haze wavered in his vision. Wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, he found them wet with tears.
He looked around in a daze. Moon Tae-young, saying it was okay, reached out to wipe the dampness from his cheek.
“It’s alr—haa. It’s okay.”
The pained look on his face overlapped oddly with the image of him crying from earlier. That lingering scene clung to his chest like a splinter, stabbing deep.
Cha Eui-sung wiped the sticky blood off on his clothes, then leaned into him without a word. He could feel fresh tears rolling down his cheek again, even through his still-dulled senses.
“Water—or medicine… is there anything you need?”
“No…”
“Are you hurting badly? Should I get painkillers or… wait, are you even allowed to take those?”
Moon Tae-young, usually so composed, was rambling a little today. It wasn’t often he got this flustered, and even in this state, Cha Eui-sung couldn’t help but chuckle. He sniffled immediately after and wiped his eyes again, but still—he actually felt a little less like shit. If only this headache would go away, maybe he’d be able to breathe properly again.
“I’m fine. Really…”
“This is not fine—!”
“Just… haaah… Just hug me for a bit.”
Your clothes are gonna get messy, but I’ll wash them with the blanket later. I’m really good at getting bloodstains out, so just…
Swallowing the rest of his thoughts, Cha Eui-sung closed his eyes again. He didn’t even have the mental capacity to think about what he was doing. He simply burrowed into the warmth, chasing after it without thinking.
Being held like that, just like he wanted, time dragged by like it would never end. It felt like forever before the pounding in his head finally began to fade.
The backlash from his skill, the first in a long time, had hit with all the weight promised in the warning. Only then did Cha Eui-sung shift, slowly disentangling himself from Moon Tae-young’s arms.
And just as he’d expected, what came into view was a crime scene straight out of a slasher film. He let out a long, exhausted sigh.
“…Shit.”
“If you say anything about cleaning, just stay put.”
He hadn’t even finished speaking before a firm voice cut him off. Now that he thought about it, back at school too, Moon Tae-young had that same “Are you serious?” kind of face.
“Haha… I know you won’t believe me, but I really am fine now.”
Wiping his damp face and trying to smile, he watched Moon Tae-young’s expression harden even further. He hadn’t expected it to work, but still—that cold stare stung. With all the baggage he’d piled up, explaining his physical condition always ended up being this damn hard.
“What about your meds? Weren’t you supposed to take them as soon as you got home?”
“No, seriously—no. Don’t look at me like that.”
“Sigh…”
Even his short sigh was loaded with emotion. Cha Eui-sung could understand why the guy was so shaken up, but there was nothing else to say—he really did feel better now.
First things first: a shower. Once he cleaned up and looked halfway normal again, maybe Moon Tae-young would calm down too.
Still playing the part of the helpless patient, Cha Eui-sung dragged himself toward the bathroom.
What the hell…
The moment he closed the door and looked in the mirror, the curse slipped out. If he was going to vomit, couldn’t he at least do it cleanly? His mouth looked like he’d been feasting on raw meat like some feral beast.
Maybe it was the emotional drain from this morning, but despite the heat, he craved hot water. He twisted the lever up and a rush of steaming water poured out—but somehow, it didn’t feel satisfying at all. Everything was just annoying and stifling. Like he’d swallowed a baseball that was now lodged right in his throat.
Cha Eui-sung glanced toward the door, then finally closed the drain. Without bothering to ask the host, he filled the tub to the brim and sat there in a daze, ears tuned to the muffled sounds outside.
They weren’t clear through the water’s noise, but he could make out footsteps passing by the door— probably cleaning up the disaster he’d caused.
You should’ve just let me do it…
His chest felt heavy. Wouldn’t it be just perfect if, after he finished bathing, Moon Tae-young looked at him with that serious face and said, “Cha Eui-sung, you don’t seem well. We can’t include you in the plan.”
Fuck that. He’d rip the support beam out of this house and do a strongman show right on the spot.
Grinding his teeth over something that hadn’t even happened yet, Cha Eui-sung slowly sank into the rising bathwater. His limbs, stiff with cold sweat, finally began to loosen up. As his body relaxed in the hot water and his gaze drifted up to the ceiling, the scream-like sound of someone crying still echoed faintly in his ears.
“Don’t do this. Please. It’s my fault, okay? It’s me…”
Only after the chaos of waking passed did he finally begin to think about the scene his skill had shown him. His weeping ex-lover. Moon Tae-young, in tears. That jarring image kept flickering at the edge of his vision.
Holy shit.
Moon Tae-young, that composed, steel-willed man, showing raw emotion like that? What kind of tragedy must’ve hit for the two of them to be holding each other like that, both in shambles? It must’ve had something to do with the end of the world—that scene reeked of catastrophe. And yet, before he could even process that possibility, a strange discomfort settled in his gut.
Did he declare he’d destroy the world because he failed to kill Jo Tae-jong or something?
But if that were the case, why was the ex sobbing like he was the one at fault? Maybe he’d made some massive screw-up. Frankly, that guy always looked like the type who could do exactly that.
No malice intended—objectively speaking, he hadn’t seemed particularly useful. If he’d messed something up to the point where it couldn’t be fixed…
“I— nghk —please, I’m sorry… please…”
Maybe someone more capable had tried to step in and clean up the mess. Then again, the result didn’t exactly scream ‘successful sacrifice.’ The world still ended. Meteors rained from the sky. That precious lover of his probably died right along with everything else.
The world ended, love shattered— The worst possible outcome.
What the hell had happened? What did the two of them say to each other in that final moment? The curiosity gnawed at him hard.
“Ugh…”
Cha Eui-sung tugged at his hair. The memory had been thrown at him so abruptly, he had no clue what the System was trying to tell him anymore.
At least before, it gave you stuff you could repeat to fill the gauge.
But now? Now it just kept showing him shit he couldn’t use for anything.
If he went out there now and started bawling like a lunatic, screw the Savior Gauge—he’d be hauled straight to the psych ward. Moon Tae-young, still teary-eyed, would drag him to an Awakening evaluation center and force him to get treatment.
Even if he wanted to use it somehow— lately the scenes didn’t feel connected to his own life at all.
It was like the skill wasn’t offering lines to mimic anymore. It was highlighting the Demon King’s memories. Like it wanted him to witness—not imitate—the past.
Wait. Was it always like this?
Maybe the flashbacks had never been for copying in the first place. Maybe it was just that he had found ways to take advantage of them…
“Ugh… This is so damn hard.”
He groaned out loud, then leaned back in the tub.
Gurgle…
His head dipped under the water, silencing his breath. The muffled whoosh of water filled his ears, soothing his rattled body and mind.
When he opened his eyes, the System screen shimmered faintly above the surface of the water.
[SAVIOR GAUGE]
■■■■■■■■■■
■■■■■□□□□□
75%
Even now, staring at it, his emotions were mixed. He was happy, of course. He felt a thrill, even hope—
But right alongside that buzz was worry. Anxious, nameless dread. It felt just like when he first realized he’d Awakened. There’d been relief then—realizing that not everyone was doomed to die. But also… this awful, restless unease.
Already three-quarters…
Realizing it was now at 75%, the unease spiked. It was like a long-ignored homework assignment suddenly creeping up on him.
Homework?
Suddenly, Cha Eui-sung twisted in the tub with a loud splash. Something had flashed through his mind. A vague sense of what had been weighing on him all this time.
That’s not something I need to think about now. There’s still over 20% left—no point stressing over it yet. When the end really gets close, maybe then…
That 100%… He’d always treated it like some far-off future. But now, the mission’s end was actually drawing near.
And with it, all the worries he’d shoved aside to focus on the present were finally catching up.
Blorp!
A small trail of air bubbles slipped from between his lips.
