If he hadn’t gone to the hospital, he’d really have been a goner.
Honestly, Cha Eui-sung had planned to secretly tail the bastard if he tried to run and get rid of him. Whether or not the body was ever found didn’t matter—there were plenty of ways to cover up the incident.
The conflict between the Bureau of Regulation and the Hunter Association was at its peak. Judging from the fact that Second Life Cha Eui-sung hadn’t heard a single whisper about the Silent Blade, it was clear that once again, the Bureau would go all out to bury the incident the moment one of their own was exposed.
So if our Assemblyman had acted according to the plan he’d laid out in advance, Lee Sang-jo would’ve been permanently labeled missing and eventually forgotten.
Yeah. A missing persons report. Considering how the guy looked yesterday, killing him would’ve been easier than saving him.
“Figures… clean as a whistle.”
The vacant lot he revisited after sunrise looked completely untouched, like nothing had ever happened there. No chunks of flesh, no bloodstains—not even the trampled weeds remained; they’d been neatly re-planted.
Cha Eui-sung strolled through the area slowly, scanning for any leftover traces from the day before. Now and then, patches of moist soil peeked out between the thick grass.
No way Lee Sang-jo had hopped off on one leg like a ginseng goblin. So how had they gotten rid of the body?
Cha Eui-sung himself knew the layout of dungeons that hadn’t even been generated yet, so he’d planned to use that intel to make the body vanish without a hitch…
But surely Moon Tae-young hadn’t used the same method?
All dungeons, both domestic and foreign, were under strict surveillance and regulation by the state. Considering the surge of missing persons cases back when dungeons first started appearing, it was an obvious precaution.
Even Moon Tae-young would’ve had a hard time bypassing that system. It wouldn’t matter if he had help. Unless he was someone with field authority and real power, the moment anyone sniffed out the trail, he’d be caught. Just like Oh Se-dan had been, with Cha Eui-sung holding his leash.
“So, the Demon King has some secrets of his own, huh.”
Fine by him. Cha Eui-sung had come here keeping a crap-ton of secrets himself. Besides, his goal wasn’t to dissect Moon Tae-young down to the last detail and understand him inside out. All he cared about was filling up his Savior Gauge and extending his remaining life. That’s why he’d gone out of his way to do all the dirty work and deliver it straight to the guy’s doorstep.
The only reason he hadn’t heard the gauge rising overnight was probably because he’d been sleeping too deeply. There’s no way it hadn’t gone up after everything he’d pulled. Moon Tae-young had carried him, personally tended to his wounds, and he’d even woken up in the Demon King’s Castle.
With a mix of tension and anticipation, he opened his System window, praying all that effort hadn’t gone to waste.
[SAVIOR GAUGE]
■■■■■□□□□□
□□□□□□□□□□
27%
“Ha ha!”
Laughter burst out of him without warning. Knew it! The extreme gamble had paid off. It had been so long since he’d seen any progress on the gauge that Cha Eui-sung actually jumped for joy without realizing it.
“Should I leave a message or something?”
He stomped his feet a few times like an excited kid before shaking his head. Nah, not a good idea. He’d already pushed hard enough yesterday—it’d be better to give it some space for now.
No matter how cleanly it was covered up, it was still a criminal incident. And to make matters worse, he’d spouted nonsense in front of the very person he wanted to impress—saying stuff like he didn’t mind dying—and then completely blacked out. Now it was time for him to crawl under a blanket, shiver with shame, and mentally flog himself in solitude.
With a spring in his step, Cha Eui-sung turned to complete one final task. Retracing his steps from the day before, he wandered around someone’s overgrown backyard garden, thick with tangled vines, until a small hole—barely the size of two coins—caught his eye.
He dug around it quickly, revealing a dagger buried to the hilt in the soil. It was the Silent Blade, which he’d discreetly tossed during a brief moment of opportunity.
Bet they never thought I’d dig this far back.
Getting rid of it without making a sound while being carried like dead weight had been a hassle. But thanks to that little trick, he’d gotten into Moon Tae-young’s home and walked away with a pretty damn good item.
Grinning like a fool, Cha Eui-sung picked up the dagger and casually headed back home.
***
As expected, Lee Sang-jo’s disappearance was quietly swept under the rug.
Though plainclothes agents lingered around the city for a few days, no one seriously searched for him.
A short article appeared, vaguely stating that the Bureau of Regulation had paid compensation after issues were discovered in an investigation involving one of their Hunters. Any mention of civilian victims or the fact that the perpetrator was missing had been scrubbed away, leaving behind a dry, soulless report.
Cha Eui-sung even received a thank-you message from the Assemblyman.
While keeping tabs on every related development, Cha Eui-sung shuffled funds from place to place and finally began preparing for a rare trip back to Seoul.
“This kind of toxic atmosphere happens in every workplace, sure, but when it gets this regular, how the hell is anyone supposed to survive without burning out?”
“Ugh… I used to envy Hunters, but yeah, this is rough.”
“Well, the Association’s made a lot of enemies. I may not have seniority, but I’m respected, so I catch wind of things—and word is, they’re clashing with the Bureau again.”
As always, Kim from the Hunter Association—better known as Kim Nocha, the owner of the bright yellow car and a man incapable of suppressing his ego—had rushed out to treat him the moment he announced he was in town.
After three rounds of drinks, the info he spilled was underwhelming. Still, even that was enough to piece together a lot.
Figures. They’ve already sniffed it out.
These guys had a filthy knack for sensing blood in the water. Those stripped-down, sanitized news articles were likely the best outcome the Association could salvage. Since they’d cleaned up the mess before Lee Sang-jo’s crimes went public and cozied up to the political elite, it would’ve been near impossible to touch them without undeniable evidence.
As a former head of the Hunter Association himself, Cha Eui-sung could say with certainty that the cranky old bastards in the boardroom must’ve thrown a fit—despite knowing full well the Association couldn’t possibly have caught something the Bureau itself had missed.
And so the scolding would roll downhill.
In the end, only the low-level Hunters, clueless about the inner workings, would bear the brunt of it. Once the internal atmosphere turned suffocating enough, he would step in.
Oh Se-dan.
This guy would step forward, propose a slick compromise that appeased the higher-ups, soothed the bureaucrats, and polished his own reputation in the process.
It was like a robot anime transformation sequence playing five minutes before the end of a broadcast—predictable and repetitive, yet somehow always effective.
Still, they probably had to omit a few impressive achievements this time.
Would his campaign continue strong even under subtly different conditions?
On his way back, Cha Eui-sung pretended to stagger drunkenly as he sent Kim Nocha on his way, then checked his text messages.
[Today was the same as yesterday. Class ended five minutes early.]
[We had class outside today. But after class, the teacher didn’t go home and went back to school.]
What had started out as a few lines, like a diary from day one, had turned into sprawling MMS reports detailing her school life by the end of the first month. Lately, though, Kim Seo-ryong seemed to have figured things out—it had become much more concise, like overdue homework completed in a rush.
The usual parts about playing house with Min-hee and Jeong-seo unni, or updates on her family, had vanished. Now, most of the messages were focused on observing Moon Tae-young.
[Studying was the same today. Chansol-oppa ripped a book so he had to clean the school, but the teacher stayed behind to supervise him.]
[Studying was the same today, but the kids asked why the teacher didn’t do long jumps too. The teacher said if he jumped, he’d go farther than the entire field. The kids said he was lying and got mad.]
[We were in class when Min-hee asked if the teacher was close with uncle. Then the teacher said we were having a pop quiz. He said he’d go home early today.]
[Studying was the same today. At lunch, Min-hee said the teacher only eats snacks instead of real food. Jeong-seo unni said the teacher is like AlphaGo.]
[Studying was the same today, but Chansol-oppa said little uncle was a bad guy. Min-hee tattled to the teacher, and Chansol got in trouble.]
[Studying was the same today. Jeong-seo unni said she saw the teacher at the mart with someone all wrapped up like a burrito.]
He hadn’t expected much when he assigned the task, but surprisingly, it had been useful for tracking Moon Tae-young’s movements.
Even with the shorter updates, they still had little details here and there that painted a picture of his daily life. A side effect was that Cha Eui-sung now found himself imagining Tae-young’s day without meaning to.
Let’s see… what about today…
He scrolled through the latest messages—until his thumb froze mid-swipe.
[Studying was the same today, but the teacher told me to say hi to little uncle. I asked what to say, and he said just say it like that. So I’m saying hi now.]
“……”
BEEEEEEP!
The sharp honk of a car startled him, and only then did Cha Eui-sung realize he’d come to a full stop in the middle of the road. He hurriedly stepped aside, gripping his phone tightly.
Something felt off. Maybe it was because he’d read too many of the reports all at once.
Thoughts scattered and overlapped in his head as an image of Moon Tae-young formed in his mind—bending down slightly in a sunlit hallway of that old building to speak at eye level with Seo-ryong. Pausing a moment, weighing which term to use when she asked which uncle he meant.
What had he called him? “Uncle I don’t live with”? “Little uncle”? “Eui-sung uncle”?
The edges of his phone, where his fingers had rubbed absentmindedly, felt rough. Cha Eui-sung stared down blankly at the device, still holding the message.
He’d been planning to buy a new phone at dawn because of all the scratches, but now… maybe just replacing the screen would do.
It wasn’t worth the hassle—transferring data, logging into all those sites again.
Pure laziness. That’s all.
That’s why he changed his mind.
“Mr. Kim Jeong-baek. Are you busy?”
—Ah… What is it this time?
“You’ve worked hard on this last case. I figured I should treat you to a meal as thanks.”
—Oh come on… You’re asking that at 2 a.m.? What, are you calling from overseas or something?
Smirking at the grumbling voice on the other end, Cha Eui-sung strode briskly out of the bar-lined street.
Once the surrounding noise faded, his chaotic mind began to settle.
