Complete restoration of lost memory.
The moment those words hit his eyes, Sung Cha-hyeon’s vision seemed to bleed red. Thump, thump, thump… His heart pounded so hard it ached, gripped by something close to fear—no, rage. A furious burn tore through his body, and his chest heaved like it was being crushed from the inside out. Even with his eyes wide open, his gaze remained glued to the glowing blue screen in front of him.
※ This is a Linked Reward ※
When Favorability reaches 100%, …Clear Reward… (3/3) will be automatically granted.
Upon receiving all Clear Rewards, the Queen of the Underworld’s gift will be retrieved.
+Full restoration of Sung Cha-hyeon (S)’s lost memories.
This is the final reward, granted automatically once 100% Favorability is reached.
In other words, if Se-min were to fall in love with Cha-hyeon again…
“Huh? Wait… Linked reward? Didn’t know those existed. Looks like when my Favorability hits max, your memories come back too, Hyung.”
Se-min’s voice drifted in one ear and out the other. Even though Cha-hyeon had clearly read the words—understood them—he still questioned if he was hallucinating or had misread something. But Se-min’s offhand comment directly contradicted every ounce of denial that had rooted itself in his mind.
“Still, it’s good news, right? You finally found a way to get your memories back.”
Good news?
Cha-hyeon’s bloodshot eyes slowly turned to Se-min. He replayed the words in his head, over and over. Se-min, clearly flustered by the condition—if he fell in love with Cha-hyeon again—was now offering him a warm, well-meaning smile. Encouragement, innocent and pure.
The kind of comfort only someone completely unaware could give.
What cooled Cha-hyeon’s boiling fury wasn’t logic. It was a strange, hollow sense of loss.
Se-min, who had once said it was okay not to get his memories back, was now saying it was lucky that he’d found a way to recover them.
Se-min, who had forgotten everything about Sung Cha-hyeon, was still gentle—but could no longer understand his fears, or share in his pain.
“…Uh…”
Se-min, who’d been visibly excited about the status window only they could see, glanced at Cha-hyeon’s blank, unresponsive expression. He seemed to sense something was wrong.
His smile faded awkwardly, replaced by a hesitant discomfort. Then he pressed his lips together and fell silent. Between the two of them, the blue window shimmered faintly in the quiet.
“…Heh.”
A hollow laugh slipped from Cha-hyeon’s mouth—completely unexpected. All of it just felt so utterly pointless.
What was the point of any of this? The moment Se-min fell in love with him again, he’d be forced to reclaim the memories he’d fought so desperately to leave behind. The very thing he’d come to think of as the death of his identity would become inevitable.
The question of why such a reward even existed had finally been answered. The message was clear: Step aside, middle-man. Make way for Ji Se-min and the original Sung Cha-hyeon so they can have their happy ending. And him? Just a disposable tool to get them there.
Then what the hell had all his efforts been for?
He’d clawed and thrashed to escape a fate that was supposedly inescapable—only to discover that nothing had changed. A suffocating wave of emptiness crashed over him.
Slumped against the sofa, Cha-hyeon brought a hand over his eyes. Slowly brushing his hair back, a broken murmur escaped his lips.
“You really… think this is good news?”
Already looking uncomfortable, Se-min averted his gaze toward a random corner of the room. Maybe he thought Cha-hyeon was just being unreasonable again, or maybe that damn Favorability score had dropped further.
But it didn’t even matter anymore. Even if Se-min’s Favorability hit 100%, there’d be no benefit to Cha-hyeon. Maybe it was resignation—maybe it was the realization that no matter how hard he struggled, nothing would change. Whatever the case, Cha-hyeon was starting to think it might be better if Se-min just ended up hating him.
“…Huh? Oh… I mean, wouldn’t it be uncomfortable, living without those memories? I was honestly really shocked when I found out… And you said you wanted me to get them back, didn’t you? That’s why I brought it up.”
Relief flashed across Se-min’s face like he’d finally found the right excuse. Like he could stop feeling guilty now. But Cha-hyeon could no longer find the words to respond.
He’d made up his mind to restore Se-min’s memories that day on the rooftop garden.
The day when Se-min had forgotten everything about him—those swollen eyes, the cardigan he’d handed over, the gentle comfort, the way he’d soothed Cha-hyeon’s unstable wavelength. The undeniable, unfiltered affection.
He had believed that if memory-wiped Se-min could return to that version of himself, everything would go back to how it used to be.
“I see.”
Well, not that he had any idea what to do anymore.
***
After confirming the status message only they could see, Cha-hyeon looked like a shell of himself, collapsed on the sofa like a lifeless corpse.
His head rested awkwardly against the back cushion, neck tilted at an uncomfortable angle. He didn’t move a muscle. Only the subtle rise and fall of his chest showed that he was still breathing.
What’s wrong with him…?
Not understanding a thing about what was going through Cha-hyeon’s mind, Se-min could only fidget in the suffocating silence. He briefly wondered if there had been more information that only Cha-hyeon could see, but since nothing had been said, he couldn’t be sure.
They weren’t close enough for friendly small talk. It wasn’t like this was a superior he needed to butter up. Trying to ease the tension would just leave him feeling awkward and annoyed. And judging by what little time he’d spent with Cha-hyeon’s fiancé, Se-min had already figured out most of the guy’s personality.
Current Favorability: -13%
What kind of delusional filter did the old me have on? Or did that guy have some insane redeeming quality that made up for it?
Whatever the case, there was no way his current self could understand it. Se-min just wanted to be alone.
Now that he thought about it—he and Cha-hyeon were both in hospital gowns, so they must be hospitalized… but were they sharing a room? What name had been on the door? Had there even been a name? Wait, it was a VIP room. Maybe it wasn’t labeled at all.
Just as his thoughts started spiraling, a sudden vibration snapped him out of it. Startled by the buzzing phone, Se-min fumbled to pick it up. The caller ID read: Deputy Chief Jeong Jeong-ho.
“Uh… Hello?”
Se-min didn’t like phone calls with unfamiliar people, so his voice came out stiff. From the other end, a voice spoke—vaguely familiar, yet not quite.
— Guide Se-min. It’s me. Just checking if anything’s changed. If not, I should probably head out soon.
“Ah—ah! Yes!”
Se-min shot to his feet without thinking. It was already late. Jeong must’ve swung by after work, squeezing it in before going home.
Crap, I should’ve called him the moment something changed.
Mortified, Se-min kept bowing toward the empty air as if the other person could see him.
“I’m so sorry! Yes, I can read it now—I mean, it changed. Yes, yes!”
— Alright. I’ll be there in a minute.
As the call ended with Jeong confirming he was coming to the room, Se-min lowered his phone. Even though Cha-hyeon must’ve overheard the entire conversation, he still hadn’t moved—still lying there like a corpse, eyes closed.
A short while later, a soft knock came at the door, and Deputy Chief Jeong stepped inside. He looked at Se-min—standing there awkwardly—and then at Cha-hyeon, still limp on the sofa, and asked with clear confusion,
“What’s going on in here? Why does Esper Sung look like he’s completely out of it?”
If Se-min had his memories, or if Cha-hyeon were his usual self, one of them probably would’ve answered. But between the awkwardness of their relationship and Cha-hyeon’s condition—honestly, he looked half-dead—it was no surprise that no one said a word.
The silence dragged until Jeong, slightly embarrassed, shut his mouth and approached the table. Even standing right next to him, Cha-hyeon didn’t react. Frowning, Jeong re-read the item information again—but no, nothing new showed up.
“Still says the same thing on my end. Guide Se-min, what does yours say?”
“Uh… It says that once my Favorability hits 100%, his memories will be restored.”
“Oh…”
Jeong let out a silent breath of surprise. Se-min glanced over at Cha-hyeon and added,
“It says his memories will come back automatically. It’s a linked reward.”
“…Really?”
Jeong turned toward Cha-hyeon again. Even though they were talking about him, the man didn’t budge. Jeong stared at him for a moment, then asked,
“Then why’s he like this? It’s not like he doesn’t want to get his memories back.”
