Only a handful of Awakened remained in the darkened department store, where an eerie stillness hung in the air. The raid was over, and the atmosphere at the gate site had begun to loosen, winding down into calm.
“Can we go now?”
Permission came at once. Not that anyone would’ve dared stop Sung Cha-hyeon anyway—but it was already dawn, and with the mission successfully completed, the site management team had no reason to keep the exhausted Espers around for a detailed report. They only filed those for newly discovered Special-Type Dungeons or failed clears, after all.
Besides, since this one had turned out to be a Mindscape-Type Dungeon, a short written report would be enough. There’d be some paperwork later about Cha-hyeon stepping in for the original raid team, but that was tomorrow’s problem.
“Is it okay to head out through the parking lot? My car’s down there.”
“We’ll contact the night manager right away. Just press the intercom at the barrier—he’ll open it for you. Uh… should we escort you to the parking lot?”
The staffer asked nervously. He’d already been scolded earlier—”An S-rank Esper solo-clears and not a single one of you sticks around to greet him?”—so the question came out almost as a reflex.
Cha-hyeon answered curtly.
“No need.”
“Ah, then… may I at least escort you to the elevator?”
The Vice-Team Leader—another Esper—jumped in. At the absurd suggestion, Cha-hyeon’s brow arched, and he gave the cheerful-looking Esper a slow, unapologetic once-over.
“I said I’m fine. Are you deaf, or—”
“Thank you so much! I’m sure you’re both tired—please, don’t worry about us! Great work today! Thank you again!”
Ji Se-min quickly cut in with an awkward laugh, giving Cha-hyeon a gentle shove toward the exit. Thanks to him—or perhaps because of him—Cha-hyeon’s sharp-edged response was half smoothed over, and Se-min’s own trembling wasn’t as noticeable.
Leaving behind the endlessly bowing Esper, the two of them began walking slowly away.
Cha-hyeon cast a casual glance over his shoulder before draping an arm around Se-min’s shoulders. The warmth that half enveloped him was familiar now, a posture they’d fallen into countless times before. Cha-hyeon muttered under his breath.
“Looks like a damn beggar….”
“Hyung….”
Ever since he’d lost his memories, Cha-hyeon’s sense of social tact had gone missing, too. Se-min tried to stop him weakly, as if to say, you can’t just insult someone’s looks like that. Fortunately, Cha-hyeon only flicked a brow, letting it go without further comment.
When they reached the elevator, Se-min pressed the down button. The lights were bright, yet the darkness pressing against the windows made the place feel like an abandoned ruin.
A soft chime announced the elevator’s arrival. The sterile white light inside only made the emptiness feel sharper.
Cha-hyeon’s long, jointed fingers pressed the button for the parking level. He flicked his gaze briefly toward Se-min, then turned fully to face him. The light revealed Se-min’s face in stark detail—pale, drawn, and clearly exhausted.
“You okay? You look pale.”
“…Huh? Oh… I guess I’m just tired. Weird though—I didn’t even do much.”
Trying to sound nonchalant, Se-min forced a small smile. Cha-hyeon’s lips tightened into a straight line, then relaxed again.
“You did do something. You got taken hostage in the dungeon.”
“…Ah.”
Se-min let out a low sound and stared straight ahead. The elevator descended quickly without stopping, and the doors opened.
The parking lot stretched out before them, vast and silent, the emptiness echoing like outer space. Their footsteps rang too loudly against the still air.
He swallowed dryly, then spoke in a quiet voice.
“You must’ve had it worse, though. It was a solo clear, right? You’re not tired? Your wavelength’s stable… How’d you manage to clear faster than the projected time?”
“…Trade secret.”
Cha-hyeon rubbed the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, his expression faintly pained. Se-min, staring ahead, didn’t notice the gesture—only the movement of his own throat as he swallowed again.
“So it was an Illusion-Type Dungeon, right? You mean I was the hostage? I barely remember anything.”
“It was based on your dream. You don’t usually remember much after waking up, do you?”
“Ah… so that’s why I was asleep. I wonder what kind of dream it was, haha….”
Maybe that’s why it had felt like he’d seen two Cha-hyeons. Maybe that’s why he’d dreamed of them kissing. Strange things happen in dreams, after all…. Se-min kept talking, squeezing out words he didn’t even care about just to fill the silence.
“Uh, so… what about the rewards? Since it was a solo clear, are they better? Or is it not always like that?”
Cha-hyeon’s eyes drifted into the air—but what he checked wasn’t the actual reward screen from this raid.
~Unclaimed Rewards List~
♦ …Clear Reward… (1/3)
“Nothing special. Just experience and some gold.”
“…Ah, I see. So it’s not like solo clears always give better loot, huh.”
Still talking in circles, Se-min swallowed again. Then, after a pause, he finally asked the question that had been sitting in his throat all along.
“Can I ask something? Just curious, really. Why’d you go in alone? There was an Esper team deployed at the site, right?”
“They’re useless. You think those guys who can’t even handle Rift management would be any help in a dungeon?”
Cha-hyeon’s dismissive tone made Se-min flail, waving his hands in panic.
“N-no, I mean, I get it! You’re the best, after all! I just thought… maybe it’d be safer with others around, that’s all.”
The look Cha-hyeon gave him said plainly, a mouse worrying about a cat, huh. He was about to respond when his eyes slid slightly to the left.
“Se-min.”
Just his name—but Se-min flinched. His heart pounded painfully in his chest. Cha-hyeon’s gaze narrowed, sharp and steady, like a snake sizing up its prey.
“You’re scared?”
Se-min froze mid-step. Still facing forward, he slowly turned his head toward Cha-hyeon. His pale face and dilated pupils made it obvious—something wasn’t right.
“…Uh….”
The sound barely escaped his lips. And strangely enough, it was only then—after being asked—that he realized: he really was afraid.
Cha-hyeon’s voice softened, but his question was more precise.
“Because I went into the dungeon alone?”
Because he went in alone….
Staring blankly at him, Se-min murmured as though just realizing it himself.
“…I was scared….”
Yeah. Saying it out loud made the tension drain from him at once. His tired body sagged, ready to give out. The erratic pounding in his chest still hurt, and he pressed a hand over it.
But unlike Se-min, Cha-hyeon suddenly seemed lighter, almost cheerful. Only then did Se-min realize—he’d been suppressing something all this time.
Why? What was bothering him?
Before Se-min could think, Cha-hyeon spoke again.
“Maybe I should retire.”
The tone was so casual—like he was suggesting dinner—that it took Se-min a second to process. When it finally clicked, he sprang upright.
“…What? Retire? Wait, hyung!”
His voice boomed across the empty parking lot, echoing embarrassingly far. Flustered, he quickly lowered his volume.
“Retire? All of a sudden?”
He stared, wide-eyed, completely at a loss. Cha-hyeon’s eyes curved in amusement.
“Because Se-min gets scared when hyung goes into dungeons.”
Of all the reasons that could’ve existed, that was the last one Se-min expected. He felt like someone had hit him over the head.
Was that… supposed to be romantic? Or completely out of touch with reality? The logic had launched itself into orbit, leaving him speechless. After a few failed attempts to form words, he finally managed to stammer,
“…No, hyung, you already told Deputy Chief Jeong you’d change duties, remember? To Rift and Flood management.”
“Yeah, but that’s just a temporary fix. The only way to really make sure I don’t enter a dungeon again is to stay as far away from them as possible.”
He wasn’t wrong—but it sounded like burning down the house to kill a mosquito. Se-min just stared, not sure where to begin.
“I mean… still, that’s a bit much….”
He couldn’t even find the right words. He believed his anxiety would fade soon anyway. And since Cha-hyeon had already gone so far as to switch roles for his sake, it only made sense for him to overcome it—not for Cha-hyeon to give up everything.
Besides, what kind of headline would that be? S-Rank Esper Retires Because His Guide Is Scared—people would riot. Someone might even form an “Assassinate Ji Se-min” fan club.
This wasn’t some king losing his kingdom over a beautiful concubine… though, maybe that wasn’t the best comparison….
Lost in the spiral of ridiculous what-ifs, Se-min fell silent. Cha-hyeon tilted his head slightly, his voice tinged with sarcasm.
“Or what? You think I’ll regret it later?”
“…Huh?”
The question snapped Se-min out of his thoughts. The faint amusement from earlier had vanished—Cha-hyeon’s face was unreadable again.
Trying to make sense of the mood swing, Se-min quickly said,
“No, I just mean… there’s no need to go that far. It doesn’t make sense, right? You can’t retire just because I’m scared—”
“Ahh.”
The sound was half-understanding, half-dismissive—but his expression said he didn’t understand at all. Se-min shut his mouth, the silence of the parking lot pressing heavy around them.
For a long moment, Cha-hyeon stared at him with an unfamiliar look, something distant and cold. Then, as if painting over it, he curved his lips into a faint, almost artificial smile.
“Got it. Let’s go home. It’s past your bedtime anyway.”
And just like that, the long, restless night finally came to an end.
