“Just saying up front—I don’t take contracts to take people out.”
“Haha! Everyone’s got enemies or opposition in this world, but would someone like you really be getting requests for that kind of thing?”
“If someone hates another person so much they wanna kill them, they should’ve stabbed ’em a few times before it got to the ‘enemy’ stage.”
And people like that? Society calls them psychopaths. As long as psychopaths don’t make up the majority of the population, a world where Oh Se-dan’s logic reigns will never come to pass.
Even so, Cha Eui-sung gave a slight nod, as if instinctively sensing that this man wouldn’t hand him anything that might lead to self-destruction.
Only then did his hardened expression ease, slipping back into a calm façade. The effortless composure flooding his face was almost unnatural, drawing another intrigued glance from Oh Se-dan.
He seemed genuinely pleased by the speed of that recovery.
“Well, to be honest, the one who should be most concerned here is you, Mr. Cha Eui-sung.”
“We’ll see. If you’re planning to use me, then you’ll have to conveniently turn a blind eye to my unregistered status, won’t you?”
“Mm… I like that.”
“No need to waste time spelling it out, right?”
It wasn’t a bad exchange—their conversation snapped back and forth like they were mentally synced, at least halfway.
They were both hiding plenty, but the fact that he could read the other just a little more clearly? That was oddly satisfying.
“I’m guessing you don’t want a contract. Considering your position, any kind of evidence could cause problems if it gets out. But I doubt you’d want some useless slip of paper that wipes out all power dynamics either.”
“Of course, Mr. Cha Eui-sung, you know how it goes—when it comes to high-level deals, they’re handled on trust.”
Which was Oh Se-dan’s flowery way of saying: “I’ll hold your weakness over your head.”
Well, the guy was the type to toss you aside the second you outlived your usefulness, so really, what good would a contract even do?
But on the flip side, if your value went up, he’d reward you even without needing a formal obligation. No matter how brilliant he was, scraps still had to fall from the table if you wanted people to come sniffing around.
“In that case, I’m not too thrilled about the idea of you having a client. You didn’t come to me because you needed brute force, did you?”
He was an A-rank Hunter himself—if something needed handling privately, he could just do it quietly and efficiently himself. No loose ends, no wagging tongues.
Hadn’t he gone around taking out criminals in his second life just like that?
If someone shows up at 3 a.m. trying to make a point, it means they need help with something big—something that could even interfere with his business.
“Besides, I’ve got a hunch why you want to keep me unregistered.”
He doesn’t want to hand over an S-rank asset to the Bureau of Regulation, but he also doesn’t want the Hunter Association to get their hands on him either. So what? He wants to have a little taste for himself? Greedy bastard.
Has he never heard of how they hunt monkeys in the rainforest? You grab too much with one hand, you lose it all.
Almost before the words had finished, Oh Se-dan’s sharp eyes were fixed silently on Cha Eui-sung, glinting with amusement—but the wariness had started to seep in.
Cha Eui-sung tapped his empty cup without much thought, then offered a faint smile.
“Allies. We’re each other’s contractors now. So for that, let me make one thing clear.”
“And what would that be?”
“From this point on, I’ll have zero interest in the Association. I admit I’ve interfered with your work before, even if it was indirectly, but I have no intention whatsoever of stepping into your territory or drawing attention there.”
I’m not trying to take your spot. That’s probably one of the biggest things you’re afraid of.
On the flip side, it also means this: if you start tightening the noose around my neck, I won’t just sit still.
And the clarity of that message made Oh Se-dan chuckle quietly.
Yeah. What good is it to have a rival rising all the way up to your chin? When he pictured the ruthless version of this man from the past, Cha Eui-sung couldn’t help the bitter taste in his mouth—disgusted, but also… grudgingly impressed.
“I’ll say it again—I like you.”
“Glad to hear that. I’ll reach out if I need anything, so if you’ve got any jobs worth doing… let’s handle them together.”
“Shall we work out the details later?”
“Sounds good. You’ve got a lot on your plate—I imagine you’ll be heading back up soon.”
As Cha Eui-sung responded with a few more taps of his glass, Oh Se-dan stared at his fingers with a curious look in his eye.
What now? This is just a habit at this point. Cha Eui-sung glanced at the man who, in the last life, had lost everything and died—and let out a sigh inwardly.
God. I could really go for a drink at this godawful hour. I miss Moon Tae-young, too.
The futile longing scattered silently into the air.
***
Vrrrmmm. The sound of a car pulling away echoed faintly in the distance.
Cha Eui-sung slumped back against the sofa, staring blankly up at the ceiling.
“Haah… fuck.”
Now that the tension was finally draining out of him, it wasn’t just a headache—his entire brain hurt. Everything felt weirdly disoriented, like waking up from a dream.
He was starting to understand why people throw salt after someone they can’t stand comes around. Exhausted and wrung out, it made him want to exorcise the bastard like a damn ghost.
“Sounds like you head up to Seoul fairly often.”
“As you can see, the infrastructure around here’s a bit lacking… can’t be helped.”
“Next time you’re up, shoot me a message. Feels like fate we crossed paths like this.”
“Haha. Was it a meeting, or did you just spot me?”
“Pretty sure you were the one who found me first.”
He thought they’d part ways the moment the discussion wrapped up, but Oh Se-dan had stuck around far longer than expected.
They ended up exchanging all kinds of trivial, pointless small talk. The man probably had a mountain of things to deal with the moment he got back—so why the hell was he lounging around someone else’s house for so long?
He wasn’t Go Yeong-won. This was Oh Se-dan, famous for slicing up his schedule down to the second…
Well… one thing’s taken care of at least.
He’d confirmed that Oh Se-dan was already tracking most of his movements. The guy even seemed to suspect that Eui-sung had been cozying up to Go Yeong-won to make a move on the Association.
Thanks to that, he’d gotten a clean opportunity to pretend to give up on joining the Association—not that he was ever interested. So, a win was a win.
Who knows where he’d gathered the village gossip, but he knew Eui-sung was close with Moon Tae-young. Luckily, he didn’t seem to know Moon Tae-young was an Awakened.
That made it easy to strike a deal.
For now, they were on the same boat. He’d smoothed over the immediate danger, but both of them would be itching to toss the other overboard the moment anything felt off.
And for something like that, this guy’s being weirdly tame. Which makes it even more unsettling.
Eui-sung kept thinking back to that subtle current in the air, right up until the moment Oh Se-dan left. The man was always painfully polite and gentlemanly—until something set him off. But with that goddamn smirk and his eyes all crinkled up, how the hell was anyone supposed to know what he was really thinking? That was the scary part.
“Goddamn. I think I’m coming down with something.”
He muttered even though he knew it wasn’t true. Now that the thrill of impressing someone like Oh Se-dan had faded, he felt hollow—like only the husk of him was left behind.
He checked the time: 6:48 a.m. The realization that they’d been talking for nearly four hours made his head throb.
He was already wide awake, but his vision swam anyway. Still lying on the sofa, Cha Eui-sung slowly let himself recline fully, pressing his flushed face into the cushion and shutting his eyes.
I’ll rest for a bit, then call Moon Tae-young. I should also drop in on Kim Jeong-baek’s people. And I need to set up my own contingency protocols so I’m ready for whatever kind of contact might come next…
He was probably running through a mental checklist like that, but at some point, the thread of thought just… snapped.
Before the sun had even risen, Cha Eui-sung slipped into unconsciousness—falling, deeper and deeper, as though something was dragging him down.
***
His vision blurred and came back into focus.
For some reason, Cha Eui-sung was gasping for breath, lips parted with ragged exhales.
Guilt. Regret. Rage. Grief. Fear…
A storm of emotions surged through him, burning his eyes. He clenched his jaw and bit down on his lip, forcing back the tears gathering at the corners of his vision.
And then—just as he struggled to even breathe—a large, pale hand reached toward him. It brushed back his sweat-drenched hair and cupped his cheek.
“It’s not strange. I understand.”
A tender voice, soothing and gentle—yet brimming with concealed worry. How could he not notice the unease hidden beneath that calm?
He bowed his head, trying to suppress the swell of emotion threatening to spill over.
A strong arm wrapped around his back, pulling him in.
Cha Eui-sung sank into that familiar embrace.
Crisp and clean, firm yet somehow like the wind—that scent. As he buried his face and drew in a breath, his labored breathing finally began to ease. The comfort offered was both welcome and painful in its own way.
“It’s okay. I…”
A quiet whisper brushed past his ear.
“…I think I can fix it.”
Suddenly, his heart dropped. Hard.
In that instant, Cha Eui-sung realized something.
He lifted his head—and met a face he knew well.
Black hair. Dark eyes. That beloved, beautiful face with its perfect lashes.
Moon Tae-young… It was Moon Tae-young.
“But you have to promise me one thing.”
“Hhk… Huhh, haah…”
“No matter what it is… just do what I say.”
In those seasoned eyes was a quiet, unshakable resolve. The emotions swimming behind them were too vast, too complex to read at a glance.
But just as he tried to peer deeper—
The dream began to dissolve.
His awareness floated slowly back toward the surface of consciousness.
And as clarity returned, one thought flickered through Cha Eui-sung’s mind: This dream… I feel like I’ve had it before.
