Moon Tae-young knew a cold that cut through flesh and seeped into the bone. The kind only those who’ve spent nights in unheated rooms in the dead of winter could understand. He’d forgotten it for a while after becoming an Awakened following his regression—but now, his insides felt just as frigid as the white breath escaping his lips.
The winter wind sliced past him with a vicious edge. His smooth cheek chilled instantly. Step by step, his feet brought him—inevitably—to Cha Eui-sung’s doorstep. A pale light glowed faintly beyond the wall.
It was deep into the night, long past when the village had gone to sleep. He hadn’t even told his lover he was coming, so no one should’ve been barging into the house. And yet, Cha Eui-sung was as meticulous as ever. The front gate was firmly locked.
He could’ve just rung the doorbell and called the owner out, but instead, Moon Tae-young quietly placed a hand on the wall. Closing his eyes, he focused on the sounds.
There it was—faint, like wind blowing from afar. The sound of water inside the house.
Even accounting for the noise leaking through the cracks in the door, it was subtle— Likely just someone washing their hands or face at the sink.
What is it I want to do right now?
He asked himself.
Did he not trust Cha Eui-sung? Hard to say. He never really put much faith in anything beyond what was openly shown.
It was the kind of thought that would’ve hurt someone to hear, but Moon Tae-young wasn’t a fool. He accepted that there were people who had probably tried to deceive him, thinking he’d let things slide.
Still, he could feel it. The way affection slowly bloomed across that face. The lukewarm warmth that had begun to melt down Eui-sung’s guard, little by little.
Whoosh.
After listening to the sound of water for a few seconds, Moon Tae-young vaulted over the wall without a word.
Crossing the yard as if it were his own home, he grabbed the front door handle and gave it a little twist with some force.
Crack. Grind!
The handle broke off and the door creaked open—and just like that, the sound of running water from inside came to a sudden stop.
A silence heavy with intention, one that seemed to choke the air itself. Ignoring it, he stepped inside, naturally slipping off his shoes at the entrance.
Splish.
A strange echo. Like the sound of a heart too heavy to sink any further, being kicked around underfoot.
A faint scent still lingered in the chilly house air.
He’d only smelled it once before. A smoky top note that had faded, leaving behind a deep, masculine trace.
The day he’d gone charging off to Seoul to find Cha Eui-sung— That scent had clung thick to the shredded clothes he’d tossed aside. He would never mistake it.
Moon Tae-young walked over and picked up a coat that had been tossed carelessly over the sofa. He lowered his face slightly and buried his nose into the stiff fabric. There it was—that faint whiff of perfume, so light it could’ve been brushed off with a flick.
He let the coat drop to the floor and took a few steps toward the dining table. He picked up a wrinkled shirt draped over the back of a chair.
Another sniff. That scent again—filling the whole house.
But where the gesture seemed casual, the chill now creeping into his bones was anything but. As he kept his nose pressed to the soft fabric, Moon Tae-young slowly raised his head.
His gaze shifted like a slow-motion camera pan.
He saw a pair of feet—still in socks. Above them, black pants. A bare upper body, shirt discarded. And behind that, the white glow of the bathroom light.
Where Moon Tae-young’s gaze came to a halt— stood his lover, frozen like a statue, the one who had disappeared without a word for days.
His face was wet, staring back at Tae-young in stunned silence. His pale skin only made the red bruises and blotches on his neck and collarbone stand out more starkly.
Tae-young looked him over slowly, like he was studying something. A silence thick enough to strangle hung between them.
“…Tae-young?”
“You’re home early.”
Moon Tae-young spoke gently, his tone calm and untroubled, like he was simply asking if dinner had been eaten.
That made the brown eyes staring at him tremble slightly.
“Guess things wrapped up sooner than expected. I’d been waiting.”
He said it softly, but the other man didn’t budge. Didn’t show even a hint of thawing.
Moon Tae-young took a deep breath again. Even through that ridiculous perfume, he could still make out the scent he cherished—Eui-sung’s own.
He let the shirt fall to the floor. Thud.
Why was it… From that moment on, the corners of his lips curled up on their own. A smile formed—so clean and composed, it could’ve been put on display anywhere.
***
“Haaa……”
With a long sigh, Cha Eui-sung dragged his exhausted body into the house. At the sight of the familiar surroundings, his tense shoulders finally began to loosen.
It was far too late. The silence was so heavy it felt like he was the last person left in the world. Still, out of habit, he locked the door.
Years of living a life full of secrets had ingrained the routine into him. Not that it really mattered—Moon Tae-young and Go Yeong-won came and went as they pleased regardless. Even when there was no real risk of anyone barging in, this was the only way he could feel at ease.
Click, clack.
He carefully stowed the Silent Blade and his medication in the back of his bedroom drawer. Since Oh Se-dan had already seen it, he figured there’d be a few more occasions to put it to use.
After drawing the curtains over the windows, the fatigue he’d been putting off came crashing down on him. His nerves, which had been taut the entire time, finally began to dull.
Cha Eui-sung unfastened the shirt that clung tightly to his neck and trudged toward the bathroom. He stripped just enough, tossed the shirt aside, and turned on the faucet.
He had planned to shower anyway, but first, he wanted to splash some cold water on his face. He’d just come back from getting caught up in an exhausting mess.
It hadn’t even been a year since his regression, and already his life had been turned upside down by all sorts of madness— Uninvited pests like Outer Gods, a past he couldn’t recall, and that infuriating Demon King bastard…
Everything vile had managed to tangle itself into one giant knot and now danced a polka on top of all his carefully laid plans. His mood was a funeral procession, but the BGM clacking in his ears was an upbeat, cheery rhythm.
Cha Eui-sung was being chased by those footsteps. Driven into corners, down alleys where he couldn’t see what lay ahead.
Should I call him?
The very fact that he wanted to hear the Demon King bastard’s voice made him wonder if he was the most unhinged one of all. Like a depressed person shoving sweets into their mouth, when he was run-down in both body and soul, he instinctively longed for the comfort of warm arms.
Fuck.
When had he ever curled up in someone’s embrace and let himself be swayed like this? That pathetic thought made rage surge through him. He bit down hard on his lip.
The System had contacted him in a hurry. The Outer God had made contact with the Demon King. And here he was—when that was the very person he should be most wary of—entertaining this kind of disgraceful impulse. It was unacceptable.
Splash!
He threw more cold water onto his face, trying to steady his thoughts. Fortunately, getting away from those two troublemakers had helped him recover some semblance of composure.
His broken logic groaned as it tried to turn. And the conclusion it spit out was… right. The situation had already happened. Nothing he could do about that now. So instead of collapsing and blaming everything and everyone, the only thing he could do—the only thing that was true to him— was to figure out exactly what had happened and make a plan.
“Tough luck.”
As always, the first step was to erase all traces of his trip to Seoul. Then, spend the night analyzing the chain of events, and by morning, reach out to Moon Tae-young to get a read on him.
If Tae-young seemed clueless, he might be able to cautiously bring up the Outer God. And if Tae-young clammed up, he’d just have to nibble away at that stubborn mouth.
He could start with something like I don’t know if I’m even helping you anymore, Then act hurt, uncertain. Maybe look a little lonely, pitiful. That kind of approach usually made something spill.
And if he paired whatever he got with the System’s intel, he might be able to deduce what information the System couldn’t divulge because of its restrictions— or even guess at the Outer God’s motives.
If he got lucky, he might even catch a glimpse of Moon Tae-young’s future while he was at it.
A bonus…
Right. Tae-young was a bonus. His primary goal was to retire from this filthy Hero game. The world had to keep existing for that Demon King bastard, sewn together from scraps of prophecy, to survive or perish as he pleased.
The real problem was how often he kept forgetting that very basic fact. But now that things had escalated this far, he had no choice but to act.
What use was a conscience? The dead don’t leave anything behind.
Cha Eui-sung was in the middle of mentally kicking himself when a grating sound suddenly reached his ears.
CRACK—!
…?
A sound he recognized well. The metallic grind of a lock being forcibly twisted and broken.
The image that flashed through his mind— was Moon Tae-young.
He had a history, after all—of breaking the door handle on his own, waltzing in uninvited, making a huge pot of porridge, and then disappearing again. And of course—just as expected.
As Cha Eui-sung stepped slowly out of the bathroom, there he was. Moon Tae-young. Standing stock-still. With his nose buried in the very shirt Cha had just tossed aside.
Their eyes met— Tae-young’s face was blank to the point of eerie, and it sent a chill down Eui-sung’s spine.
Why the hell is he here?
Just as that question struck him, a sharp, high-pitched ringing pierced his ears.
In a time when the [Hero]’s feats grew by the day, the ominous signs haunting the kingdom finally turned into war.
The kingdom fought with all its might against the dragon’s assault… But amid weakened surveillance, the hand of the Outer God finally reached the quarantined [Demon King].
A description from an episode he’d only seen hours ago— why did it have to pop up so vividly now of all times?
Every time he saw the phrase “the hand of the Outer God”, he felt like something terrible was about to happen. And now, the blood was draining from Cha Eui-sung’s face.
“…Tae-young?” He called out his name almost reflexively.
Only then did his mind snap back to the present. Only when he became aware of his heart thundering in his chest did he realize just how shocked he was.
“You’re home early.”
The greeting was so natural, it was like he’d just knocked on the door and been invited in.
That’s when Cha Eui-sung finally noticed the state he was in. Came home unannounced, wearing someone else’s cologne, looking like a cheating bastard caught red-handed— No wonder the air inside the house felt so damn heavy.
Drip. Drip.
Water from his face dripped down onto his body.
Their eyes stayed locked. Time seemed to slow.
“Guess things wrapped up sooner than expected. I’d been waiting.”
And look at those sleepy, dangerous eyes. Calm, unbothered, like he hadn’t just committed something unspeakable.
What the hell was he supposed to say to that? Scold him for breaking into someone’s house again?
Or act like this was some kind of socially accepted form of visitation?
While he was still trying to pick the right words, Moon Tae-young let the shirt he was holding fall to the floor.
And then, that smile. That mask-like smile spread across his face.
And in that moment, Cha Eui-sung caught a creeping sense of dread. Something had gone horribly wrong.
