That expression… it’s odd.
Oh Se-dan was the type who could easily mask or feign both affection and resentment. Any emotional display he chose to show was almost always deliberate, under tight control.
That’s why Cha Eui-sung had grown adept at reading the situation and goals behind the other man’s expressions rather than the expressions themselves.
And based on experience—painstakingly accumulated over time—there was absolutely no reason for Oh Se-dan to be wearing that kind of face right now.
“Well, that’s a relief. I’ve got a lot to say, and I’d rather deal with that than be treated like an eyesore.”
His reply came laced with suspicion, but as their eyes met again, Oh Se-dan followed up with another believable smile.
It left Cha Eui-sung with a deeply strange feeling. The last time they’d seen each other, they were the kind of people who, if given knives, might’ve actually stabbed one another.
Not that Cha Eui-sung had never seen a positive reaction from the man. He’d spent years trying to win even a shred of his approval. Every time he brought Oh Se-dan something useful, the guy offered just enough praise and compensation to keep things going. And once in a while—just barely—there’d be a fleeting trace of a conflicted expression.
Whether that was trust, or some form of goodwill, he never knew. But it hadn’t been outright rejection, and at the time, that had felt like enough. Back then, Cha Eui-sung had been fully devoted to learning from him and staying in his good graces.
It’s a different vibe from back then, though.
Then again, the circumstances were different too. Sure, he’d gotten in Oh Se-dan’s way a few times—but at least he hadn’t been hovering around the Hunter Association trying to “join up,” pissing him off for no reason.
And unlike before, his first impression now wasn’t that of a clueless idiot who didn’t know a damn thing.
Still, it was the first time he’d ever felt this particular itch crawling up his spine. The unreadable look in Oh Se-dan’s eyes stirred up an emotion he couldn’t quite pin down.
It felt suspicious, but also like a relief. Maybe even nostalgic, in a way… Something like that.
“Well then. Where should we start?”
Oh Se-dan rested his clasped hands on the table. That was a gesture he only made when he was reasonably at ease during a negotiation.
When the person sitting across from him wasn’t some uncontrollable maniac or an idiot who couldn’t understand what was being said. And when he had decided the conversation was worth investing some effort into.
Cha Eui-sung glanced at his half-empty juice cup and licked his lips slightly.
Things were just getting started, and his throat was already dry as hell
***
“Our Assemblyman is just such a kind man. He’s taken pretty good care of me.”
“As far as I know, when you get something in return for what you give, that’s usually called a transaction.”
“A transaction, huh… Well, I suppose by that logic, even a tenant farming contract would count as one.”
“Did you receive fair rent, at least?”
Back in his time at the Association, someone once said that Oh Se-dan’s words had a way of driving people insane.
He was probably the kind of guy who had a sharp mind—sharp enough to be worth using.
Oh Se-dan’s tone and speech style could change so drastically depending on who he was talking to, it was almost bizarre.
“Anyway, I have to admit, I’m a bit surprised. As you know, Mr. Cha, it’s not easy to come across someone who’s both strong and clever. Especially in Hunter work.”
“People born outstanding are a dime a dozen.”
“Not just outstanding. You were also extremely adept.”
“No amount of hard work can beat someone born lucky.”
“That’s life, isn’t it? Haha.”
If that’s the case, then right now Cha Eui-sung was basically dealing with a parasitic wasp that had its stinger poised at his throat.
This was a conversation where both parties pretended to casually brush against the surface, while actually sinking their teeth straight into the flesh beneath. Like a ping-pong match between two players just as vicious as each other.
“Still, you’re connected to our team’s mascot, so I can’t help feeling a bit of closeness.”
“Never thought I’d land such an impressive connection that way… Honestly, I was a little shaken at the time. Even the lightest car accident leaves aftereffects, you know.”
“Hunters do tend to be on edge. It’s a dangerous line of work. I was worried too—kept an eye on things for a while after that.”
“Using drones or something?”
“Hahaha, if I had something like that, I’d use it to line my back pocket, not for work. It’d come in handy for stock trading, I imagine.”
“Whew. That’s one spicy joke.”
“Should I not be saying things like that? Haha.”
Fuck.
Countless subtle warnings and implications had passed between them in that short exchange. Cha Eui-sung downed the last of his orange juice in one gulp, forcing his fading smile to stay in place.
That conversation had been brutal. Just the bits they’d said so far were enough to answer most of the questions he’d been mulling over.
He’d been wondering exactly how much Oh Se-dan knew—about him, and about the situation.
And now, facing the grim truth that the man had likely pieced together almost everything, Cha Eui-sung felt that sickening rush of crisis rise all the way to his bones.
“Helping out Assemblyman Jeong? That was just a side gig—something to pass the time.”
“Sure. I know you’re the one pulling the strings. That dungeon breach? I’ve already figured out it was you. How long have you been doing this shit?”
“No idea what you’re talking about. Just stumbled on it by chance—good instincts and better luck. Got any proof?”
“Funny. Then what about approaching Go Yeong-won?”
“Another accident. That proof thing—still applies.”
“I’m working on it, so keep sweating.”
“Using the same stalking tactics you used on Go Yeong-won? Funny, he didn’t seem to know about any of that.”
“And you’re the one talking, with all your little stock market tricks?”
If Kim Jeong-baek had heard this, he would’ve groaned, “Why the hell do you talk like that, boss?” And if Moon Tae-young had been here, he probably would’ve asked, “What do you want from him, poking and prodding like that?”
But of all people, these two were annoyingly similar, so their wavelengths aligned all too well. They read each other’s tones, micro-expressions, even the quiver in their voices—drawing this out into an extended dance of words.
“Seems like fresh air and clean water really do suit you. Sure, you’ve had a bit of friction, but moving down here with an acquaintance doesn’t sound so bad. And if you happened to make a rare friend your age who really gets you… well, leaving would be difficult, wouldn’t it?”
And at long last, there it was. The attack Cha Eui-sung had been waiting for.
Oh Se-dan had finally brought in Kim Jeong-baek, then Moon Tae-young—letting him know, in no uncertain terms, that if he wanted to, he could tear apart someone’s entire life without breaking a sweat.
From the context, it also seemed he believed Cha Eui-sung had built some ties with the villagers.
Hooked him.
Cha Eui-sung sneered internally. He’d spent ages laying the groundwork to insert a fake hostage into this bastard’s radar.
A family supposedly caught up in some legal mess over a business issue—he’d connected them to a lawyer, but deliberately routed it through the Assemblyman’s office to make sure it left a trace.
Just enough for Oh Se-dan to sniff out. Enough to make it seem like, despite the village’s coldness, he still cared about them in some small way.
The guy was paranoid as hell. He might’ve even figured out—after endless digging—that this was his mother’s hometown, something not even Moon Tae-young knew.
And if so, then this fake attachment might actually look plausible. That was the whole reason he’d gone through with it.
Let’s see…
What Oh Se-dan ultimately wanted was to keep an S-rank under his thumb and have him move exactly as he pleased.
If you want to outmaneuver someone like that, you’ve got to feed their delusions. Make them see what they want to see, while slipping the seeds of betrayal in behind the scenes.
So when Oh Se-dan poked at those personal connections, Cha Eui-sung took the bait and stiffened. His expression hardened, and his once-clear brown eyes grew shadowed.
He’d played it cool until now, but suddenly looked like he’d been backed into a corner. That flash of real anger—finally visible—sparked a flicker of satisfaction in Oh Se-dan’s eyes.
“Haa… Haha. Are you looking for compensation or something? Since I got in the way of your plans?”
Cha Eui-sung asked, voice tinged with irritation, like someone finally cracking under pressure. The cheerful mask was gone, replaced with sharp edges.
In contrast, Oh Se-dan’s face relaxed in triumph. The moment he gained the upper hand, his expression softened—generous, almost benevolent.
It made Cha Eui-sung flash back to his time at the Association, and he nearly had a full-blown PTSD episode on the spot.
If I ever end up with trauma, it’s not the combat that’ll do it—it’s that smug fucking face.
Now, as if bestowing the victor’s mercy, Oh Se-dan would take a step back and propose some kind of “compromise.”
One that looked fair on the surface, but was really packed to the brim with his own demands. The kind that left just enough appeal to force you into saying yes—even while choking on the terms.
It wasn’t his first time seeing others railroaded that way.
And now I’m the one feeding this bastard bullshit.
Six months since his regression. Back in the last timeline, this was the exact period when he’d been desperately clinging to Oh Se-dan—so much that people whispered he’d lost his mind—just to learn everything he could.
Now, with the man’s approval in hand, he was winding up to smash him in the back of the head.
That thought made Cha Eui-sung’s heart pound. The terror from his past life now felt more like an adrenaline rush—like playing a horror game that was actually fun.
“Compensation, huh… I suppose you could call it that. I have been in need of some unofficial cooperation, as it happens.”
And finally, Oh Se-dan revealed his true purpose.
It was the payoff of their long psychological standoff.
Cha Eui-sung bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to make it obvious, glaring at him as the bitter taste of blood slowly spread across his tongue.
