“I got here… a bit earlier than planned. I thought about calling, but it was already late, so I just hopped in the shower.”
“You must be tired. You could’ve rested a bit before coming. Not that I mind, of course.”
“It just felt more comfortable to come home.”
Having such casual conversation in such an abnormal situation made the back of his neck crawl.
Cha Eui-sung deliberately looked away and picked up a towel. He took his sweet time wiping his face, stalling, but when he finally raised his head again, Moon Tae-young was still standing right there.
That unreadable expression was unnerving as hell. Even a mutt born yesterday would know that smile wasn’t from genuine joy.
Did the Outer God… say something it shouldn’t have?
He couldn’t tell whether this was the result of some scheme from the Outer God, or if it was just the suspicious-looking situation itself that had rubbed Moon Tae-young the wrong way. Of all times to get caught like this…
If it’s the latter, that’s easier to fix. No need to pile on extra excuses.
No point in stirring up trouble and leaving unnecessary clues about the Demon King or the Hero. Moon Tae-young was too perceptive—if he picked up on anything, it’d only make things worse.
But what if it wasn’t the latter? What if he’d already found something out and walked in on this?
Every pointless excuse would just dig the hole deeper.
“…Wanna sit down and talk?”
Either way, this wasn’t a conversation to be had standing around outside the bathroom. When Cha Eui-sung swallowed and made the suggestion, something like a flicker of hope passed through Moon Tae-young’s eyes.
There wasn’t even a proper study in the house. As always, the two of them sat across from each other at the dining table.
“…Did the door mean nothing to you?” Eui-sung sighed. “You know, the concept of a lock?”
“Did you finish your business in there?”
“Don’t deflect. I get what you’re thinking, but it’s not like that.”
“And what do you think I’m thinking?”
“…”
The conversation spun off course from the very start. Looking closer, it wasn’t that Moon Tae-young was avoiding the topic—it was more like he had zero intention of bringing up anything other than what he wanted to hear.
Would playing dumb even work here?
Having this sort of mutual wariness between them was a damn curse in situations like this. Cha Eui-sung quietly bit the inside of his cheek before speaking again.
“If you’ve got something to interrogate me about, go ahead. If there’s something to clear up, better to get it over with.”
He just asked directly. More than whatever secret might’ve been exposed, the not knowing what it was was what really made his skin crawl.
Only then did he realize—it was the thought that Moon Tae-young might actually know more than he did that was pissing him off.
What gave him the upper hand when dealing with someone this sharp? What had let him suppress that sinking feeling, even when he felt like he was losing?
“Interrogate? I’m just curious. You seem to travel a lot for work… I was wondering what it is you actually do.”
“You didn’t bust down the door just ‘cause you were curious about my job.”
“Seeing you try to figure out where to even start… kinda makes me wonder just how much there is to say.”
“…Hah.”
Even this exchange grated against him.
It is an interrogation, you bastard. You’re absolutely interrogating me.
Cha Eui-sung swallowed the sharp retort burning up his throat and let out a sigh.
And yet, he still couldn’t tell if Moon Tae-young was suspicious of their relationship… or if he actually knew something about the Hero situation. That ambiguity was infuriating.
Annoyance surged up from habit. He pressed his fist hard against his chest, trying to tamp down his pounding heart. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.
Goddamn it.
Why? Something about those steady, unwavering eyes felt off.
He didn’t need self-pity or masochism right now, but somehow the situation made him feel pathetic and utterly screwed.
If it was going to be like this, he regretted coming back early at all. All he’d wanted was to return to his normal routine—even just a day sooner.
He just wanted to bury himself in the warmth of his bed, curl into the residual heat, and sleep like the dead. Was that really asking for too much?
“Moon Tae-young.”
“Yes?”
“Just stay curious. We were doing fine like that, weren’t we?”
The words came out laced with thorns. Once his mood twisted, nothing seemed tolerable anymore.
Jeong Seong-hyu, always feeding him platitudes in every session. Oh Se-dan, so transparently looking to use him. That lunatic Go Yeong-won, the deranged System, and the Outer God whose motives were a complete black box.
He’d barely managed to pull himself together, holding onto the thought that at least Moon Tae-young would welcome him back—only to realize that this bastard was the boss at the end of it all.
Who do you think is the reason I’m in this mess to begin with?
Crack. Cha Eui-sung pressed his index finger hard with his thumb, as though clenching a fist. Pain flared as flesh dug into flesh, and with it, a slow trickle of buried rage began to seep out.
Let’s see. If that damn meteor hadn’t come crashing down on his head, he’d probably be living it up by now, enjoying wealth and fame without a care.
The past—something he couldn’t even remember when he last thought of—would’ve stayed buried. The only headache he’d have to deal with would’ve been running the Association.
And naturally, he wouldn’t have gone around relying on people.
If he was going to die, he would’ve died alone. He never would’ve let himself feel useless emotions for someone. Wouldn’t have flattered, bowed his pride, or tried to get closer.
All that bitterness and resentment, embedded deep in his bones, might’ve gradually faded, and he might’ve finally tasted something close to happiness. Maybe he would’ve found his own reason for this relentless forward sprint.
But he’d lost every one of those chances. And in the end, the only thing he had left worth protecting was a life marked by S-rank Awakening.
So whose fault was it that he was now stuck in this miserable hell, caught between incomprehensible forces?
It was the Demon King—the one who’d shattered the world.
“We’re not supposed to be like this, you and me.”
Sure, he could admit he liked him. But were they the kind of close to know everything about each other? To trust, to promise a future?
To the point of worrying about the Demon King’s safety while dangling between life and death? To feel guilt, of all things, for someone who’d nearly gotten him killed?
He was furious. What made it worse—ironically—was that being around Moon Tae-young was the only time he didn’t feel like he was going to explode.
Of course, Cha Eui-sung knew Moon Tae-young didn’t remember the Second Life. Rationally, he understood better than anyone that he couldn’t hold him accountable.
Even now, the emotion rising in him was more irritation at the situation than at Moon Tae-young himself.
But logic and raw, seething emotion were fundamentally different beasts.
Besides—if you’re angry, then you’re angry. Why was he bending over backward trying to justify it to himself?
Heh.
That thought made him suddenly feel ridiculous.
How absurd. He used to be able to talk circles around anyone, men or women, old or young.
Yet just from running into Moon Tae-young without any kind of prep, here he was—getting pissed on his own, calming himself down on his own, looking absolutely pathetic.
Tick. Tick.
From somewhere in the clockless house, the broken ticking of a second hand echoed. Something was coming undone.
That pointless noise he’d heard during sessions with Jeong Seong-hyu returned, ringing in his ears, and even the walls seemed to warp around him.
“How much do you know? I’ll explain what I can. I have my reasons too. This is the best I can offer.”
Too little, too late. That might’ve been the better line to say—but now it felt far too late to bring it up.
“I see.”
Even that response made his chest drop.
…Unbelievable. Should he throw in some sob story now? Put on a pitiful face?
Why did his mouth, which always worked just fine in front of everyone else, suddenly choose this moment to betray him?
As Cha Eui-sung pressed his index finger again, scattering the useless regrets building in his chest—
Rustle.
Without warning, Moon Tae-young reached out his hand. Instinctively, Eui-sung started to pull back—but the familiar grip made him relax before he could react.
Moon Tae-young pressed down on his wrist. The fingers that had been digging in with bruising force suddenly let go.
“Ugh.”
It wasn’t until he felt the sting that he realized—his thumb was bleeding.
“Get some rest.”
The voice sounded kind, but was coldly detached. Just like that first day he’d transferred schools, when Teacher Moon Tae-young had forcibly sat him down for a counseling session.
When his hand fell away, Cha Eui-sung unconsciously reached out this time—his hand catching Moon Tae-young’s wrist instead.
As he stood up, Moon Tae-young glanced back, turning his head ever so slightly.
“You look tired. I’ll get going.”
Like he was the one who’d been invited here. The bastard had barged in on his own and was now leaving like it was no big deal.
“What about tomorrow?”
“…”
“Once you’ve rested… is it back to being busy again for you?”
“…Probably, yeah.”
With a faint smile, Moon Tae-young pried open Eui-sung’s fingers with his other hand. Like he actually thought he could break free with just strength.
Yeah right. If Cha Eui-sung really tightened his grip, even the Demon King would’ve had no choice but to stay put. And yet… he couldn’t quite bring himself to force the rejection.
Rustle.
The sound of fabric brushing past as he turned on his heel and walked away.
Cha Eui-sung silently watched the retreating back as it slipped out the front door. Then he pressed on the bleeding finger to stop the flow.
Thump. Thump.
His pulse pounded in shaky rhythms.
“…Huff.”
He hadn’t even eaten anything, but his stomach churned.
