Silence. And then more silence—nothing in response to the question that struck right at the heart.
Cha Eui-sung gritted his teeth and waited, but eventually, he voiced the question that had haunted him the longest.
“What happens when the gauge is filled?”
“Filling the gauge is the primary objective.”
“Everything exists to save the world.”
Only those two things had ever been stated with certainty. Beyond that, Cha Eui-sung had never received a clear answer from the System.
When the gauge was finally full, would the Outer God just poof and vanish? Or would he simply gain some decisive key?
What about all the effort he’d poured in—how would that ever come to fruition…?
As his eyes grew colder, the flickering message window abruptly vanished.
And then—pop—a new, maddeningly fundamental question appeared.
King: Do you believe there’s anything more important than saving the world at this point, Hero?
Cha Eui-sung found himself at a loss for words at the question: was there anything more valuable than the world’s survival and the continued existence of life it enabled?
He couldn’t even see a face, but somehow he felt like the System was staring him down, dead serious.
…Yeah. Survival was the primary goal.
He’d already died twice, and this final life had been handed to him by the System’s design.
Cha Eui-sung wanted to live.
Each time death closed in, the injustice of it pierced him to the bone, and he’d longed for another chance.
But still…
I don’t think I ever said I wanted to live in regret.
If what he was holding onto wasn’t a happy future, then what the hell was all this suffering even for?
The act of pretending to stay calm just made his eyes flash with resentment.
The System’s oppressive attitude was no longer just unsettling—it was outright aggravating.
Cha Eui-sung raised an eyebrow and glared at the System.
What a joke. Slapping the title “Hero” on him and then making all these assumptions.
Cha Eui-sung had never once given a damn about world peace. That had never been his goal.
If he couldn’t be happy, then no one should be.
If all this nonsense only led to another miserable life, and he ended up giving up on survival anyway—then again, no one should get to be happy.
If it came to that, he’d rather drown with the world than watch others be content while he was left behind.
He’d made that decision across multiple regressions, and that resolve had never once wavered.
And now, all of a sudden, the System wanted to start moralizing?
Maybe it was because he’d kept chewing over that bitter conclusion in his head, but the anger he’d stifled while sticking close to Moon Tae-young began to flare up with shocking intensity.
Cha Eui-sung felt his head throbbing with heat.
Maybe it was just in his mind, but the System window looked like it was shaking more violently now.
Bzzzt— The sound of circuits shorting out grew louder.
Then, zzzeeeeeeng—
With a bizarre screech, his surroundings seemed to warp for a moment.
Pop!
The air twisted so sharply he could feel it on his skin—and a new message appeared right before his eyes.
King: Once the gauge is filled, you’ll gain the “Conclusion.”
A message window edged in golden filigree.
It was the same peculiar, extraordinary one he’d seen right after his second regression.
Cha Eui-sung, running on raw, animalistic instinct for survival, could tell: this was the System’s promise, and it came from deep pockets.
In mythological terms, it was probably akin to a divine oracle—a concession from a transcendent being who had made a costly sacrifice to deliver it.
Even so, he could still feel that the “Administrator” didn’t like him very much…
You touch that line, and I’ve got nowhere left to retreat. Right?
The only reason he’d accepted this dogshit “Hero” gig was because he believed there was a brilliant future waiting for him at the end.
The System hadn’t promised happiness, but if he could reclaim an S-class life, then yeah—he believed he could live better than anyone.
But without that hope, there was no reason to keep bouncing from side to side, stressed out of his mind.
Better to drag everyone into the abyss with him than hand out blessings to others for nothing.
King: It’s a pain in the ass, sure, but ruling was never supposed to be easy.
Wait—did that bastard just curse at him?
King: Press forward, Hero. And be wary.
King: For the choice that comes from your 100%.
♪ Bam Bam Bam ♪
Was it because he’d approached the System more sharply than usual?
With a vaguely unpleasant aftertaste, the System disappeared without a trace.
Even if it found his petty mortal tantrum beneath contempt, it hadn’t forgotten the main point—its last words were still: Be careful.
Yeah. He really did need to be.
After all, he’d just received a disaster alert not long ago.
Not just from the government—but from that tight-lipped bastard of a System, too.
And any time the System went out of its way to issue a warning, it had never been over something minor.
“…Fuck this.”
Only after the episode window vanished did Cha Eui-sung finally let out a ragged sigh, like something inside him had broken.
The mental strain was eating his brain alive.
Now that the pressure was gone, he was already starting to regret it.
The System was always just gonna show up, say whatever it wanted, and vanish like a smug asshole—there was no point in getting so wound up.
But for some reason, it was getting harder and harder to tolerate.
His patience had gotten so short.
It felt like his cup was filled right to the brim, about to spill over.
He didn’t want to admit it, but after everything he’d been through, his mind must’ve hit its limit.
Honestly, there were way more important questions I should’ve asked.
Like why the System never properly told him he used to be that damned ex-boyfriend. Or when exactly he’d forgotten those memories in the first place.
That was stuff directly tied to the mission—even if the System wouldn’t answer, he should’ve tried coaxing it a little.
But in that moment, all he’d felt was a cold, sweeping rage.
He couldn’t control himself at all.
Cha Eui-sung pressed a hand to his head, sighed, and got into the car.
As he started the engine, a sudden realization hit him.
“Ah.”
That ‘happy future’ he’d just interrogated the System about…
Did he—did he really just factor Moon Tae-young into that picture?
Ha. A dry, absurd laugh forced its way out of his mouth.
So that’s why the conversation with the System had gone the way it did.
He’d been so desperate to confirm Tae-young’s safety, he’d jumped ahead and demanded the endgame first.
Goddamn it.
Cursing internally, utterly exasperated, his dumbass brain still couldn’t help drifting back to Moon Tae-young.
Before he could even register the looming threat of the Outer God, all he could see was that face with the thick, fluttering lashes—hazy, like a dream.
……
Thwack!
Cha Eui-sung let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a howl as he smacked himself hard in the head.
The impact cleared his thoughts, scattering the daze he’d been drifting in.
Then, twisting the back of his neck hard enough to draw blood and dragging his nails down his collarbone until it stung like hell—he finally snapped back to himself.
That eerie feeling of not being himself finally started to fade.
Get it together.
He muttered to himself and lifted his head, the pitch-black night sky filling his vision.
Click.
With the blink of the turn signal, his car glided smoothly back onto the road.
***
Clatter, clack.
As soon as the window shut, the cold draft that had been blowing through the house abruptly stopped.
Moon Tae-young pinched a lock of his hair between his thumb and forefinger—it had gone cold in just a moment. Water seeped from the stiff, clumped strands. As he brought his damp hand to his face, a familiar shampoo scent wafted up all at once.
He didn’t know why, but despite using the same scent every time, something about it made his chest flush hot.
That cool, bitter fragrance didn’t feel like his anymore. It felt more like the lingering scent of Cha Eui-sung, who had spent the night in his arms.
His head burned at the thought. And come to think of it—it had already been six days. Six days since Eui-sung disappeared from his sight, leaving the house unbearably quiet.
They hadn’t spent much time together lately, between school matters and revenge plans keeping him constantly busy.
Every time he had a moment to breathe, new tasks somehow piled up like clockwork. At one point, he’d even wondered if Cha Eui-sung was intentionally waiting for those moments just to drop information on him.
…Not that he wanted to dig that deep. He cut the thought short quickly, but with Eui-sung, it wouldn’t have been surprising.
Even now, after growing this close, the man remained unreadable. It was subtle, but Tae-young could feel it—he kept drawing invisible lines, like he was still hiding something big.
—Do you miss me?
Should I answer that?
—Cold of you, huh?
And yet, every time they parted, Cha Eui-sung would ask that same question, almost compulsively.
He’d call or message just to check if his presence still lingered, if Tae-young wasn’t out there enjoying life without him.
Like someone terrified of being forgotten.
And yet, wasn’t he the one who went around hopping from bar to bar, having a good time?
Moon Tae-young gazed absently at the living room below, recalling the strange, sweet scent that clung to him.
The room was untouched, exactly as he’d tidied it a few days ago. Not a single thing out of place.
For some reason, Tae-young walked over and dropped himself onto the mint-colored beanbag chair.
Weird.
It almost smelled like Cha Eui-sung. He could feel the smooth, taut texture of Eui-sung’s skin wrapping around his back.
“Hm…”
Maybe it was because Eui-sung always caught his scent first, before making any noise.
At some point, Tae-young had become more sensitive to smells, too.
And really, how could he not start noticing things like that when the younger man was constantly rubbing his nose and cheek against his skin?
Troublesome. Just thinking about it made him miss him again—even though it had only been a few days.
What a joke. Since when did he ever crave someone else’s warmth?
A strange tenderness bubbled up and wrapped around his whole body.
BEEEEEP—!
…?
The sharp warning siren went off without warning. Tae-young’s eyes snapped open, his back instinctively straightening.
He grabbed his phone, and what filled the screen chilled him to his very core.
‼ Emergency Disaster Alert ‼
[Dungeon Disaster Safety HQ] A gate anomaly alert has been issued nationwide at 21:03.
Evacuate nearby areas and avoid going outside. Exercise caution and stay clear of any dungeons.
And then—bam.
An intense sensation slammed into the crown of his head and rippled through his entire body like a lightning strike.
Moon Tae-young sprang to his feet like he’d been plucked upright.
He shoved his feet into his shoes, not even bothering to tie them, and bolted outside.
There was a hidden dungeon in this village. A dungeon deeply linked to that, one hypersensitive to change.
His usually unshakable face had gone completely bloodless.
