Why the hell would they put something like this in here?
His mind spiraled into chaos.
What if I don’t even have someone I like?
Cha Eui-sung, for no good reason, blamed the note’s content and jerked his head around.
Countless faces flickered past his vision, but his eyes stopped in only one direction. In that instant, his entire focus zeroed in on a man standing neatly poised at the starting line of the track.
Moon…
He couldn’t even finish thinking the name. Instead, with a dazed expression, Cha Eui-sung stared at the note again. As if the words on it might somehow change. Logically, that was impossible—but maybe he’d read it wrong. Who knows? Maybe it didn’t say “someone you like” but “someone you loathe.”
[Someone you like]
No way in hell, fuck.
“Huff—haa!”
To make things worse, the runners who had lagged behind were now catching up beside him.
Those who had chosen a note all darted off in different directions, scattering quickly. From a distance, Kim Jeong-baek’s voice rang out, urging him on.
“Eui-sung! Eui-sung! What are you doing!”
Strange. It wasn’t like he cared about winning or losing this race. But hearing that shout made him feel inexplicably rushed. Even worse was realizing how bizarre he must look, frozen like he’d been nailed to the ground. That only added to his anxiety.
This is… this is weird, right?
He frantically looked around, only to find Moon Tae-young off in the distance with an unreadable expression. The moment their eyes met, Cha Eui-sung didn’t even have time to think—his body just moved.
Tap tap tap—!
Without meaning to, his legs shot forward. They carried him straight toward Moon Tae-young.
Is this okay? He’s not just anyone—he’s the referee… Can I even do this? Are they gonna arrest me for this?
A flood of thoughts surged through his mind in a single instant, but just jogging was already enough to scatter his mental focus. He only snapped back to himself when he’d already come to a stop—right in front of Moon Tae-young.
Only when he saw the surprise beneath that smiling face did it hit him.
…Someone you like.
It was only after chewing on those words that Cha Eui-sung finally realized what he’d just done.
……
Was he out of his goddamn mind? He really just ran all the way over here in front of everyone, holding this note like some kind of idiot?
It wasn’t even a note asking you to expose your secret crush or anything. It probably just meant to grab anyone you were close to and run together. He could’ve just dragged Kim Jeong-baek and shouted, “My favorite bro!” like a jackass. Or picked up Seo-ryong and gone, “My favorite niece!” and made a joke out of it.
But no—he opened that note, stabbed himself with the words, and immediately looked for Moon Tae-young. Totally unlike someone who could usually smooth-talk his way through anything and handle awkward situations without blinking. All because of four syllables: “Someone you like.” That tiny phrase had made his brain explode.
He had to be insane. There was clearly something wrong with him.
“Eui-sung?”
His pupils were quaking without a single word out of his mouth, so Moon Tae-young spoke up gently.
Honestly, if it had been someone like Seo-ryong calling him “Uncle,” that might’ve jolted him back to his senses. But of course, there was no one else around to witness this disaster. At this point, it was way too late to sprint over to Kim Jeong-baek. No matter how he played it, it would look way too weird now.
Cha Eui-sung unclenched his fist and looked down again at the crumpled paper.
Crunch!
Why the hell am I taking this so seriously?
Thinking it over, it was laughable. This wasn’t life or death. And yet here he was, freaking out like a kid over whether he liked someone or not.
He slid the crumpled note between his fingers and grabbed Moon Tae-young’s arm. Even as he clearly saw the man’s startled expression, he grit his teeth and took off running.
Tap tap tap!
All that internal chaos—and yet none of the other runners had even stepped onto the track yet.
Even from a distance, the two figures racing toward the finish line stood out—so fast and massive they were unmistakable.
“Is that a wild boar or something?”
He could’ve sworn someone blurted out that kind of dumb reaction.
Cha Eui-sung didn’t dare look in Moon Tae-young’s direction. Instead, he waited for the wind to whip by at just the right moment—then subtly opened his hand. The crumpled note, barely held between his fingers, slipped away and vanished into the gust. He didn’t turn to check, but judging by the direction and force, it had likely flown far out toward the edge of the field.
And then—goal! Completely off-plan, Cha Eui-sung crossed the finish line in first place.
“…First place!”
It was only when he saw the man he’d dragged along awkwardly pretending to act like a referee that his senses snapped back into place.
“Haa… haah…”
As he caught his breath and glanced sideways at the path he’d just sprinted down, the others—stunned by his overwhelming speed—were just now arriving.
“Holy crap, what a runner…”
“Huff… who the hell was on that note that you dragged the referee over?”
He’d assumed only the type to obsess over winning a kid’s event would care, but it turned out what everyone really wanted to know was the note’s content. And of course. Even to him, fuck, the mystery behind him bringing Moon Tae-young along probably seemed more interesting than who won or lost.
“We’ll now reveal the note.”
Right on cue, Moon Tae-young stepped in. Wiping a perfectly dry forehead, he extended his hand with professional composure.
Cha Eui-sung opened and closed his hand, then gave an awkward smile.
“Uh… I don’t have it.”
“Huh? What?”
“He says he lost it? What do you mean, you lost it?”
“No idea. Must’ve dropped it, I guess.”
He even made a show of patting his pockets, then shot a nervous glance toward Moon Tae-young. The once-eager mood began to deflate, replaced by shifting, ambiguous expressions.
“Wait… don’t tell me this is just…”
“Don’t.”
A fleeting look of pity. The others who’d participated picked up on the vibe and tactfully kept their mouths shut, but it was easy to read their thoughts.
Couldn’t find anyone to bring since he’s the outsider from Cheongseri.
“I almost lost mine too, barely caught it.”
“Yeah, same here.”
So now it looked like he’d just dragged the one person he was remotely close to—Moon Tae-young—and pretended to have lost the note.
Fuck.
Seeing pity begin to seep into their eyes stung his pride. Even worse was watching them try to rationalize it, as if making some kind of effort to empathize.
Why the hell did it feel like his pride kept taking hits lately, like popcorn kernels popping one after another?
“Well, unfortunately, per the rules, the winner is the one who brought the partner named on their note.”
“Yup! That’s me! See this? Mine said ‘Loudest Person Here!’”
“What? You’re calling me the loudest? I ran my ass off for you, and this is what I get?”
Thankfully, the previously heavy mood quickly dissolved into laughter. He’d lost the prize—which he didn’t care about anyway—but…
“Too bad. You were the fastest runner out there.”
Didn’t give a single shit.
At last, when he looked over at Kim Jeong-baek, the man had a rare expression of concern on his face. He had to know this wasn’t about not having anyone to bring. Yet here he was, giving that dumbass sympathetic look to a valuable client.
As expected, this Sports Day was total bullshit. A swarm of people crowding around to participate in games that weren’t even fun.
Grumbling internally, Cha Eui-sung returned to his seat and watched the next event being set up. In the distance, Moon Tae-young was spreading out colorful boards on the ground with help from the students.
Hmm…
Weird. Every time that man got absorbed in his work, a strange sensation crept over Cha Eui-sung. Something distant. A faint emotional haze, like recalling a memory that doesn’t exist. Even though they’d only known each other for six months at most, it left a scent almost like nostalgia.
“What was written on it?”
He was staring blankly at Moon Tae-young again when Kim Jeong-baek, clueless as ever, interrupted.
“You could’ve just picked me. What could’ve been so bad that you couldn’t…”
“If I don’t answer, maybe that’s a sign for you to keep your mouth shut.”
“….”
Without even turning his head, he delivered the warning. The nosy bastard shrank back without protest.
With the noisy chatter now feeling oddly distant, Cha Eui-sung found himself mulling over the memory the System had shown him.
The Moon Tae-young of the past—always composed, tinged with quiet sorrow. A version of him utterly different from the vengeful man he was now.
And yet, for some reason, Cha Eui-sung couldn’t help but overlay that past figure onto the current Demon King.
“Kim Jeong… no, hyung.”
Suddenly, Cha Eui-sung spoke.
“Huh? Yeah?”
“If someone precious to you died or got hurt, and you had to get revenge—how long do you think that fire would last?”
“Wha—out of nowhere?”
“Don’t worry, I’m not asking about you personally. Just curious. How it is for others.”
Caught off guard by the sudden question, Kim Jeong-baek looked visibly uneasy. Cha Eui-sung quickly reassured him, then stared quietly out over the field.
Soon enough, an uncertain voice came back.
“…Not sure why you’re asking something that ominous, but… is there even an expiration date for that?”
“There isn’t. But emotions cool over time, don’t they?”
“What? If I didn’t get my revenge before they faded, I’d probably lose my mind.”
“But what if—just what if—to others, you looked calm? Enlightened, even?”
He posed the question gently, as he recalled Moon Tae-young from the memory. That moment of hesitation in front of the word revenge. That soft, soothing voice comforting others instead.
“I dunno… unless he went half-mad and threw himself into some religion or something… he probably did something, right?”
Kim Jeong-baek’s voice, mumbling the words, gradually trailed off. As if he’d briefly imagined losing someone dear.
Cha Eui-sung had thrown the question out of sheer frustration, hoping to shake off his own confusion—yet it had brought back a surprisingly fitting answer.
Is that it? Even someone so fearful about his own safety would lose it when revenge came into play? The same guy who’d been freaking out about implant chips in his arm…
Implant… recognition chip.
Cha Eui-sung’s thoughts drifted—then collided with one of the System’s memories. Two shadows stretched under a light. One figure raising their arm. The other—his lover—sobbing.
Ssshhh—
In that moment, the once-incomprehensible scene finally linked together. The first piece of the puzzle clicked into place.
…What?
Suddenly, Cha Eui-sung felt like he’d been struck hard in the head.
