I didn’t even hear it come up.
He reflexively doubted it, out of habit, but thinking back, even if a siren had gone off right next to him at that moment, he wouldn’t have noticed.
All he remembered was how the sound of breathing and low moans had drilled into his brain like a knife. They’d been completely lost in each other.
Damn it. So that’s what they mean by “a thief who learns late doesn’t know when morning comes.” Thinking about the night before left his heart shamelessly warm, but still—it was fucking humiliating.
Cha Eui-sung grumbled internally and glanced back at the gauge.
78%… Not only had it risen sharply recently, but he’d gained another 3%. That should’ve been cause for celebration.
But he didn’t feel entirely pleased. Somehow, it felt like a solid, uncomfortable deadline had just been etched across his path.
22% left. Everything had to be prepared within that. That meant future plans. What to do with Moon Tae-young after completing the mission.
I was originally planning to leave everything behind in Cheongseri.
Could this shabby little place, devoid of good memories, really squeeze its way into his S-rank happy-peaceful life plan? Of course not. He had never once envisioned a future where he stayed in Cheongseri—or one where he continued living this cursed life alongside the Demon King.
And yet now, Cha Eui-sung kept feeling tempted. Even if he left Cheongseri, maybe there was no reason to leave Moon Tae-young behind. A soft, conciliatory detour kept forming in his mind.
That countryside branch school won’t last more than two years anyway, and it’s the kind of job I can drop at any time if I quit.
The moment he achieved his goal and the world returned to safety. That would be the moment this goddamned life finally turned into a super-easy mode mini-game for ages five and up.
Rotten with future knowledge and boasting a top-tier Awakening level, nothing in this world would be beyond his reach. The wealth and power he’d gain afterward—there’d be almost nothing he couldn’t enjoy or sweep away.
So maybe taking Moon Tae-young somewhere new and settling down wouldn’t be such a bad idea. The one thing that tugged at him was the fact that a real lover would probably show up in a few years.
Shit, you think some lover’s just gonna appear even if I’m holed up in a seven-star hotel in Dubai? Doesn’t even seem like he’s capable of leaving his hometown.
If they never met, then it wasn’t fate to begin with. It wouldn’t be easy to go overseas in this S-rank body, but if push came to shove, there was always the option of never leaving Seoul again.
Then that would mean the Demon King’s real lover is now…
Him.
Realizing that, Cha Eui-sung looked down at his own hand, slightly startled.
He didn’t even know when he’d clenched it into a fist, but nail marks were etched deep into his palm. He stared at those red indentations, then let out a dry, incredulous laugh.
“What the hell, you crazy bastard.”
It only lasted a moment, but the thought had been completely deranged. Why was he cramming the very root of all his problems—this Demon King—into the rest of his life? Why was he on edge over some whiny ex?
Cursing at his own incomprehensible train of thought, Cha Eui-sung wrinkled his brow and stood up with a grimace.
This damn head of his. This messed-up brain kept getting carried away with ridiculous ideas ever since the regression.
He wanted nothing more than to smack himself so hard his skull rang, but knew it would just leave his head aching, so he held back.
With a deep sigh, he turned on his phone screen. The message Moon Tae-young had sent popped up immediately.
It’d been a few hours since he’d seen it, and he’d left it untouched. Stupid as it was, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to close the app.
[You awake?]
[Yeah. Woke up way too late.]
[Are you okay?]
[No. Honestly, I’m kinda…]
[Is it bad again?]
[Feels like I’ve been blown open.]
[…]
[I think I’m like, sugar-glazed now.]
[I’m heading to class.]
[lolol]
Shit. He’d read it who knows how many times now, but every time, his heart just melted on its own.
He really is useful, Moon Tae-young.
That thought kept creeping in, pulling his resolve further off course.
By “useful,” he didn’t mean Awakening rank or anything like that. It was ridiculous, but when he was with Moon Tae-young, all the painful, distracting thoughts that usually gnawed at him seemed to ease.
He dreamed less of nightmares, the hellish symptoms that had him re-living his own death began to fade.
His mood got better. Had there ever been a time he’d felt good without achieving something or taking revenge?
So there’s no helping it.
You couldn’t just throw away a good totem like that. This was just cold, hard calculation—keeping the guy would be a net gain.
He’d originally planned to toss him back to his ex and move on once everything was over. But to be honest, taking him along didn’t sound so bad now.
Slowly, Cha Eui-sung finally swiped the message away and opened his call log.
His eyes lingered on a familiar unregistered number, one he could probably recite even in his sleep, before pulling up his contact list.
If it were just me, I wouldn’t bother starting anything annoying… but once you’ve got baggage, it’s a different story.
After a brief moment of thought, Cha Eui-sung tapped the side of his phone a couple of times, then made a call.
Brrr— The dial tone rang for a few seconds before the call connected with a click.
“Ah, Assemblyman. Long time no speak. It’s been getting cold—hope you’ve been keeping well?”
His voice, calm and laced with feigned ease, echoed clearly in the small room.
***
Oh Se-dan, to put it crudely, was like a super-ultra-hyper bouncy ball. No matter where you aimed or how you threw it, it’d always rebound in some bizarre, unpredictable way.
Still, it was a bouncy ball. If you already knew its bounce pattern, and stayed sharp while preparing to take a few hits, you could roughly anticipate its trajectory.
Up to the part you understand, anyway. But this time, honestly… some things were a little out of line with my predictions.
After some mental gymnastics, Cha Eui-sung concluded that while Oh Se-dan might apply pressure, he wouldn’t suffocate him. In this kind of situation, the best move was to stand still in the expected path of this annoying trick ball and quietly conserve energy.
There was no need to cozy up to him or build a deep connection. Even without moving, there were still plenty of tradeable goods to lay on the scale.
Moon Tae-young…
As long as the future didn’t include the Demon King bastard, that is. The moment he had baggage to take care of, the balance tilted all over again.
—It wasn’t easy for me to reach out to the opposing side either. But, ahem, since our sponsor made the request, I pulled some strings…
“I know, Assemblyman. I truly appreciate the effort, especially when you’re so busy. Coincidentally, something promising came up at SY, so I thought it’d be a good time to mention your name, haha.”
He changed his mind.
He’d intended to lie low so Oh Se-dan wouldn’t feel threatened, but now he figured it might actually help to leave a stronger impression.
“I saw your missed call. I’ll set aside some time, so reach out again.”
That sharp, arrogant message—that said, I know your number, I’m not planning to call first, but if you try again, I’ll think about it—what would happen if that were delivered not directly but through a politically connected Hunter Association sponsor?
Wouldn’t it massively spike Oh Se-dan’s curiosity, just when he was already considering when to reach out again?
The excuse of Sports Day had kept things at bay for a while, but now it was clearly winter.
The energetic, warm-blooded kids had started wearing their padded coats, and in the early mornings, the dirt roads were faintly frozen.
Haah. As he exhaled, a thin mist rose from his lips. He couldn’t feel the cold, but he could tell that the temperature had dropped sharply right after Sports Day.
Just a few days had passed. Maybe it was the mountain nearby, but Cheongseri had a knack for rapid weather shifts. Once the temperature dropped, it stayed low and kept breaking new minimums.
Kim Jeong-baek and Seo-ryong were already making a big fuss, excited for their first school break in Cheongseri. Since there wasn’t much farmwork to do in winter, they could enjoy their vacation fully, or so they claimed.
So while the two of them planned a short domestic trip, the village’s sole teacher was getting busier by the day, preparing for final exams and supplementary after-school sessions for struggling students.
Ding dong—
The doorbell rang at Cha Eui-sung’s house—a house no one ever came to visit.
Like a ghost invited to some shamanic ritual, in the middle of a star-splattered 3 a.m., flash—Cha Eui-sung jolted awake from a light doze. Even before his senses returned, his first thought was:
Some crazy bastard’s here.
Because whoever rings a bell at this hour—rather than climbing a wall or slipping through a window—can’t be sane.
And really, there were only two types of lunatics who would visit him at this time: a drunk villager—or that guy, no second guesses needed.
Oh Se-dan… Cha Eui-sung muttered under his breath as he sat up. His sleep vanished in an instant, leaving his eyes wide and sharp.
A dawn visit? That wasn’t like him. It was almost laughable. But this wasn’t someone prone to impulsive midnight visits—he must have his reasons.
He’s emphasizing right from the start that this is a personal visit.
It had nothing to do with work. A subtle message: I caught you off guard, didn’t I?
At the same time, a direct warning: I can intrude on your life whenever I want.
For a moment, Cha Eui-sung nearly burst into a laugh. As expected, the man hadn’t changed at all.
“Here’s the info on the people you asked about. I underlined any anomalies or red flags.”
Just two days ago, he’d discreetly passed on some background info Moon Tae-young had asked for.
Good thing he delivered it early. Since then, Moon Tae-young had been completely buried in work, barely managing to breathe.
If that long-lost rival had shown up while they were tangled up in bed—what a disaster that would’ve been.
With his hair sticking up in odd places and his face showing every trace of sleep, Cha Eui-sung shuffled toward the front door without even bothering to fix his appearance.
Clack. As he opened the door and stepped outside, the stillness of the yard wrapped tightly around his throat.
The person beyond the fence wasn’t releasing even the slightest trace of energy. Yet just recognizing who it was made it hard to breathe.
When he undid the metal latch on the front gate, it creaked softly, and through the widening gap appeared a face so familiar it nearly stirred nostalgia.
“Good evening, Cha Eui-sung.”
It was a voice that made him feel like he’d gone back in time.
