To be honest, the guy wasn’t someone useful enough in life to be worth remembering—but one thing did stick: he drove a bright yellow car.
Not even a sports car, just a vivid yellow ride. And that kind of thing isn’t exactly common in the Hunter Association parking lot.
When morning came, the plan was simple. Scratch that honey-pot of a car from end to end, leave his number tucked under the wiper, and when that guy shows up after work—flash a little awe, maybe ask if he’s a Hunter working at the Association. That alone’s usually enough to drag things into drinks.
Most Hunters in the mid-tier ranks don’t have much to brag about beyond being Awakened. So if someone they admire gives them a bit of pedestal treatment, they lose their grip—especially if they’re men. And the dumber they are, the easier it is.
Clink.
Cha Eui-sung emptied the rest of his drink, mentally locking in the rough outline of his plan. Part of him wanted to nurse it a little longer, but any more and it’d be obvious he’d blown past what anyone would call a normal tolerance.
And tonight’s bed is in a hotel…!
The thought of sprawling out on high-thread-count linens under a lofty ceiling had his heart pounding.
It was depressing, getting giddy over something like this when he’d practically taken over the damn Hunter Association—but the fact that he wouldn’t have to see that awful purple toilet while showering was a joy too real to ignore.
Fucking Demon King, he cursed. What the hell kind of misery is this?
He wished that bastard’s bathroom looked just as ridiculous. Red-flowered wallpaper, garishly colorful bedding… Toilet? Mint green.
Sure, as far as curses go, it was petty for someone who destroyed the world, but sitting here now—sunk into the rich leather of a hotel sofa—his spite started to lose some of its bite.
***
“…the Bureau of Regulation has expressed strong opposition. The tug-of-war between the Hunter Association and the Bureau has been going on for some time now. In the wake of the dungeon control bill passed last October, several organizations have been struggling to adapt…”
Meanwhile, the massive TV screen was lit up with news. The world still had no idea returners even existed, and things were playing out exactly like they had ten years ago—just as Cha Eui-sung remembered.
“In response, the Association has sent Vice President Kim Jo-seong, along with Hunters Oh Se-dan and Park Seong-chae, to the negotiation table…”
The moment a familiar name hit his ears, Cha Eui-sung, who’d been absentmindedly fiddling with his phone, slowly turned his gaze toward the screen. On it, a file photo floated past the exterior of the Hunter Association building. It was Oh Se-dan’s face—someone he hadn’t seen in a long, long time.
Slightly drooping eyes, a sharp, tightly wound presence. The kind of person who wouldn’t tolerate even the smallest mistake.
Cha Eui-sung sat up straighter on the sofa, eyes fixed on the screen. It felt like the man in the photo was staring straight back at him, as if he’d already figured it out.
A shiver crept down his back.
When will he catch on?
From now on, the Association’s operations would start shifting—just slightly—away from the path Oh Se-dan had envisioned. A good number of his plans would mysteriously leak or fall through.
Oh Se-dan was a sharp one. Eventually—whether fast or slow—he’d realize someone was pulling strings behind the scenes. And this time, they weren’t even working in the same organization, which would make tracking any evidence even harder.
Would he have to get rid of him again? While dealing with the Demon King, too?
His mind drifted to Moon Tae-young. Somehow, in his imagination, the guy had stark white hair and blood-red eyes.
That brutal presence he once saw hovering in the sky—he opened his mouth in that vision and called out to him.
“Mr. Cha Eui-sung.”
Clatter! Crash!
He flinched. His arm had knocked the table, sending the wine glass tumbling over. Cha Eui-sung shot up from the sofa, his whole body tingling like his hair had been electrocuted.
Goddamn it. He should’ve shaken it all off while he was out of Cheongseri.
The spilled wine looked unnervingly like blood. He was finally going to roll around in some decent bedding, but it looked like his dreams tonight were going to be a mess again.
***
Saturday morning.
After a short but moderately pleasant getaway, Cha Eui-sung packed up his things.
Not that there was much to pack—just a few newly bought outfits tossed into an otherwise empty bag. But once he threw it into the back seat of his car, the reality that he was truly leaving the city finally sank in.
Damn it. If I wasn’t going to sleep anyway, I should’ve just partied.
Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to get any proper sleep for the past two nights. He had a sensitive temperament, and whenever something bothered him, he’d end up staying awake all night like this. It was a bad habit he’d picked up during his Second Life.
He should’ve gone out, had a drink, done something. Instead, he’d lain there, stewing in uncomfortable thoughts for hours.
Mostly about Moon Tae-young.
So in the end, to raise the gauge, I have to get that guy to like me.
If the point of the Savior Gauge was building favor, then it wasn’t enough to just interest the Demon King—Cha Eui-sung had to become one of the reasons Moon Tae-young chose not to destroy the world.
Not the kind of companion who’d grab his collar and jump into the flames with him just because he felt like dying—but someone he’d rather leave behind on a still-intact Earth, saying, “You should live, at least.”
Someone who might even help him get his revenge—who could help him, someone that close… a friend.
God, this is like some cheesy Hong Kong movie. I’m tearing up from the romance.
That’s how the new line of thinking began. Instead of figuring out how to poke and prod him like before, he started wondering what Moon Tae-young might actually like. That alone was already a shift toward a more amicable approach.
…Alcohol?
Most Hunters lived under constant threat and were obsessive about maintaining their health. High-rankers especially tended to cling to their primal desires or creature comforts.
Most common obsessions? Booze, cigarettes, food… and sex.
The problem was that liquor and cigarettes made for high-risk substances among Awakened—products meant for high-grade Hunters could act like poison or hard drugs to unawakened humans. Acquiring them required all kinds of registration and repeated regulatory approvals.
But food and people? The world was full of them. Among Awakened, many were addicted to gourmet meals, binge eating, or physical intimacy.
But that guy didn’t seem like he had much of an appetite—or a sex drive.
Moon Tae-young seemed more like someone who’d retreated into himself, living alone in some backwater village with no one his age around. Even his meals were just enough to get by.
He didn’t seem to have any hobbies either. And beyond that? No standout personality quirks, no notable speech patterns, no distinguishable habits.
Given his turbulent childhood, he likely wasn’t some overly protected, straight-laced bookworm who grew up knowing only how to study.
Moon Tae-young was probably just… born a mannequin. Or someone living for a single goal and nothing else.
And the way I see it…
He was the type to push himself to the absolute limit—just like Cha Eui-sung had once done when he was sharpening his blade to take down the Hunter Association.
“Hm.”
If that guess was right, then good—he could work with that. He’d lived that way himself.
Focusing purely on the mission wasn’t easy, but whether by fortune or misfortune, he’d never met anyone worth opening his heart to. There was never anything to shake his resolve.
Sure, there were other S-Rankers who could understand the burdens of a top-tier Awakened, but none of them had a past that mirrored his. Not even close.
Still… if someone just like himself had appeared in front of him back then—
Wouldn’t it have changed everything?
Sure, he’d be anxious, afraid his secret plans might be discovered. It’d get under his skin. But even so—could he really have resisted the temptation to fall for them?
It would’ve been tough.
If he just prodded the right places, getting close would be a matter of time.
And seduction? That was Cha Eui-sung’s specialty.
Come to think of it, I really was just hung up on the fact that he’s the Demon King because of that shitty system.
Demon King and Hero—just hearing the words, they sounded like two roles that could never possibly coexist.
Even when the system handed him the necessary skills, it’d done so with flashy lines like “the divine weapon bestowed by the gods,” full of pointless flair.
Surely, surely the system wasn’t some LARP-obsessed theater nerd with no personality of its own. He liked to think there was some deeper reason behind it all. Still, that didn’t change the fact that everything had been going around in circles.
Let’s try grilling him over dinner tonight.
If he suddenly seemed a bit too friendly, he could always say it was because of Seo-ryong.
He could say his heart softened when he saw how kind Moon Tae-young was to his niece. That he figured the guy wasn’t dangerous after all.
Vroooom—
On the way back, he turned on some music, but even that couldn’t drown out the annoying background noise of the engine.
Unlike when he’d sped excitedly into the city, this time he was obeying every speed limit to a fault.
It’s not like there was any urgency—he was headed to Cheongseri, not exactly a place in high demand. If he weren’t Awakened, he’d have stopped at every rest area just to nap for twenty minutes.
In short, his mood was thoroughly foul.
And then, right on cue, some crazy bastard showed up to make it worse.
“…?”
A sports car had been acting weird for a while, riding the lane divider. When Cha Eui-sung tried to speed up, it blocked him. When he tried to switch lanes, it followed.
After a bit of observation, it became clear—some random punk he didn’t even recognize was intentionally messing with his driving.
“What the hell’s this guy’s problem?”
He tried to give them the benefit of the doubt, but the interference only grew more blatant. Now the sports car was cutting in front of him entirely, accelerating and braking erratically.
He narrowed his eyes in frustration. In the backseat of that car, two guys were turned around, stuffing something into the driver’s face. Potatoes?
Fuck. Where the hell had these morons come from?
I can’t think of anyone in particular who’d send them.
Should he dig into this?
Just then, a rest area sign appeared up ahead. He began switching lanes early, and of course, the car behind caught on and followed.
Once he parked in the near-empty rest stop, footsteps echoed behind him as he slowly walked away from his car.
Behind one of the quiet buildings, he finally stopped and turned.
Just as expected, three men stood there.
“What’s this? Our Assemblyman just signed the contract, so it’s too early for him to start swinging his dick around. Don’t think there’s anyone else who’d send people like this. Can’t for the life of me figure it out.”
“What’s this asshole mumbling about?”
“Who sent you?”
“Your dad. Did he teach you to block people’s cars when he gave you driving lessons?”
“…Hah.”
For a second, he’d considered the possibility that the Assemblyman had lost his mind and sent a hit squad after him.
But no—these idiots clearly just latched on for some random reason.
Maybe they were pissed about something, and now that they’d come this far in a group, they were hoping their numbers would be enough to intimidate him.
Cha Eui-sung stood there calmly, meeting their eyes.
Wham!
One of the men stepped forward and shoved him hard in the chest.
Ouch. That had to hurt.
Cha Eui-sung didn’t budge an inch. Instead, he quietly glanced down at his watch.
An empty rest stop with barely a soul around. Plenty of time to spare. And his stress level? Through the roof.
If he showed up to dinner with Moon Tae-young already annoyed, he might end up saying something he’d regret.
And this was the Demon King, after all. Someone who’d made time for him.
He ought to greet him with a calm, peaceful heart.
