After returning home, the first thing that came to Cha Eui-sung’s mind was that man from his memories. The one shown faintly through the traces left by that absurdly unkind skill. A man who was unmistakably connected to Cha Eui-sung’s Hero activities, the Savior Gauge, and Moon Tae-young—so obvious that even if half his brain were missing, he could still make the connection.
What lingered most were the man’s thick, touchably soft-looking hair and his large, imposing frame. But more than anything, one trait stood out above all. Rolling around on his bed, Cha Eui-sung muttered inwardly.
“He was hot.”
Ridiculously handsome. So good-looking that even Cha Eui-sung had to admit it on the spot. He’d barely had more than a few moments of clear vision—his view constantly blurring or filled with static—but still, from the beginning to the end of that memory, he’d been hot.
Even if his face had been pixelated over, the impression would’ve still come through.
Ah, this guy’s hot. This is a hot guy memory.
He thought back to those long, alluring eyes and that single dimple that appeared on one cheek. The more he tried to figure out the man’s identity, the deeper he sank into an endless loop of speculation.
That wasn’t his house.
First of all, the man had somewhere he had to return to. The lump under the covers had been disappointed about that, clearly. Then the man told the blanket burrito to come “up” to where he was. At the very least, that meant he didn’t live in some rural backwater.
What stood out was that the bed he’d been lying in seemed to belong to the person under the covers. If the two of them had woken up in the same bed together that morning, that said a lot about the nature of their relationship.
Now that he thought about it, even just hearing their conversation had felt kind of awkward and ticklish…
“Something about dawn, something about you…”
If it hadn’t been for his burning desire to raise that damned gauge, Cha Eui-sung would never in a million years have uttered lines like that.
Judging by the constant whispers in his ear, the two were probably long-distance lovers. Both of them… guys.
Those were definitely guy legs.
He remembered the leg that had slipped out from under the blanket. Pale, smooth skin—yet the bone structure was firm, and the muscles were taut in a way that was oddly enticing. From the length of that calf, the other guy had to be pretty tall, too. Imagining a massive guy like that curled up under a blanket, sleeping in the arms of someone even bigger, well…
“Tch.”
What the hell was that all about? Why did the fate of the world have to depend on someone else’s love life?
Seriously, he’d never seen things go well for people who made that kind of fuss. It almost felt like this entire Hero story had been concocted just to clean up after someone else’s mess, and that thought left Cha Eui-sung feeling thoroughly indignant.
Still grumbling, he pulled up the skill description and the gauge again, got pissed, looked away, then for no reason at all, Moon Tae-young’s aimless, indecisive face popped into his mind. Something inside his chest gave a strange, shuddering ripple, and before he even realized it, he’d grabbed his phone.
That was it.
Cha Eui-sung, once again scrolling through the Hunter community site he’d been obsessively checking for days, eventually sighed. It was already 4 a.m.—stupidly late. He’d gone over the man’s identity again… and again… and then… Wait—what happened next, again?
♪♩♬♪–
“Hoo…”
When Cha Eui-sung opened his eyes again, it was morning. Despite tossing and turning all night, it seemed he’d ended up falling into a dead sleep.
8 a.m.
He’d slept just a little over three hours.
Rubbing his face vigorously, he glanced at his phone and saw Kim Jeong-baek’s name pop up.
“Ahem. What is it?”
—You were asleep? That’s rare. So, you made up with Park Chansol yesterday, huh? His parents must’ve felt bad too—they said we should have a meal sometime, just the adults.
“You never said you made up.”
—Like you would’ve cared if I did.
“And the dinner?”
—Same.
Click. A tongue click. Kim Jeong-baek, startled for once, went quiet. Cha Eui-sung stretched out as he shuffled toward the living room.
—Anyway, we’re going over to Chansol’s place for dinner tonight. They asked if you were coming too.
“Did they mean that positively, or negatively?”
—Positively. I told them you were coming.
Actually, on the way home last night, Cha Eui-sung had asked Moon Tae-young about local gossip. He hadn’t been all that curious, honestly. It just felt awkward to sit in silence. Moon Tae-young hadn’t given him the full story, but Cha Eui-sung was sharp enough to read between the lines.
When he’d first moved in, it had made for a bit of buzz, but that died down quickly. Now, only one or two people ever brought it up—and even then, just to gossip a bit. His reputation hadn’t completely tanked, but still, dining with locals wasn’t exactly appealing.
And knowing Kim Jeong-baek, he must’ve had good reason to arrange this.
—That family’s been here forever. Never moved, born and raised in this village.
“Hmm. So they probably know a lot? And a lot of people too.”
—Out of everyone around here, they’re probably the most well-connected.
Cha Eui-sung had been debating whether to clear up the misunderstanding about him hanging around Moon Tae-young. Now seemed like a good chance.
“Sounds good. What time?”
—Dinner. Six o’clock.
“Six… I’ll head over there.”
Only someone completely unhinged would want to be around people who made them feel guilty. Most would avoid or outright reject them.
So if those parents were really as socially connected as people said, they’d probably heard all the rumors too. But inviting him like this meant they probably weren’t the ones who started them.
They’re trying to keep plausible deniability—like, ‘I only heard it secondhand.’ That sort of thing.
Still, the fact they were calling him over—someone they used to ignore just because of his connection to Seo-ryong—was kind of surprising.
Ding!
Right then, just after they’d hung up, a message from Kim Jeong-baek came through.
[Forgot to mention—when visiting someone’s home, bring a little gift… You know that, right?]
[Did you seriously think I didn’t know that?]
[Not really, but you’ve been acting like a jerk to everyone around here.]
[It’s that obvious?]
[…I’ll just bring some fruit. You pretend you brought it. I’m too scared to show up with it myself.]
[Thx, see you later.]
Yeah.
Making peace with him had definitely been the right move. Stretching wide, Cha Eui-sung stepped out of his room.
***
Park Chansol’s house sat on a prime lot in this otherwise rundown village. Cha Eui-sung, used to seeing nothing but scattered silhouettes in the middle of fields and rice paddies, was met for once by living, breathing people along the roadside.
“Welcome! Honey!”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s ready!”
In front of a yard lined with low cherry trees hugging the stone wall, they were greeted by a couple older than he’d expected. Before he knew it, a meal had been set on the outdoor table, and in a blur of small talk and side glances, Cha Eui-sung found himself seated before a steaming plate of braised spicy chicken, with drumsticks being divvied up among them.
“You know, we have drinks out here often, so the kid probably overheard some weird stuff…”
As dinner went on, the excuses started to roll in, thinly veiled beneath casual banter. They never flat-out admitted to talking smack, but if you listened closely, there was a kind of roundabout apology buried in there.
Things like: “We were so old when we had him, we’d forgotten how to raise a kid,” or, “He’s nineteen years younger than our first, it’s embarrassing,” and, “We took his phone away recently,” and so on.
7 p.m. already.
Time was ticking, but the conversation showed no signs of slowing. Kim Jeong-baek, who was somehow roped into this whole dinner like he was a fellow parent, was chatting away like he belonged.
Sure, he was naturally sociable, but it was obvious the couple was especially excited that Cha Eui-sung was sitting there with them. After all, the mysterious import unicorn they’d only heard rumors about was now in their yard—and contrary to the nasty gossip, he seemed perfectly normal.
“So your mother was from here?”
“Yeah. She left when she was young, though.”
So apparently, he was technically a reverse import.
“Then I might know her.”
“Hmm. Probably not.”
“No, I mean, I’ve lived here all my life, and in the last few years we’ve been having alumni gatherings and such. I know a lot of people around here. There’s someone who really made it big, too—came from this village.”
They kept pouring that awful soju. Cha Eui-sung accepted it and drank politely, forcing a half-smile.
“She left when she was about eight. If she were still alive… she’d be around forty-five now.”
“Ah…”
“Her name was Yu-jeong. Cha Yu-jeong.”
“Ah, her family name…”
The atmosphere turned somber for a moment. But then, ignoring his wife pinching him under the table to hold his tongue, the husband cautiously opened his mouth again.
“Cha… it’s not a super common surname. I don’t know if there were any Chas in this village.”
“There probably weren’t. If there had been, I’d have looked them up first.”
“But, if she really lived here, wouldn’t she have gone to Cheongse Elementary? It’s nearly empty now, but back when I was a kid it was packed—everyone around here went there.”
“Ah… yeah.”
“They should still have records, too. There’s been talk of shutting the school down, so the alumni association’s been pestering the officials to digitize the old records, especially since a few alumni are kind of famous now. Shouldn’t be too hard to find.”
Bridging the distance with such a vague connection wasn’t bad, but it was starting to wear on him.
He hadn’t meant to talk about his mother this much.
Nodding as if it were a nice story, Cha Eui-sung checked his phone.
“Hyung, didn’t you say Seo-ryong went to a friend’s house?”
“Ah, yeah, uh, right…”
“I texted her. Said she’s heading home.”
Friend’s house, my ass.
Seo-ryong had looked visibly relieved when she wasn’t asked to come along. She’d bolted straight into his room and hadn’t come out since.
Kim Jeong-baek picked up on the cue and started wrapping things up. Using Seo-ryong as an excuse, they neatly exited the gathering.
“Let’s stay in touch, alright? Once Chansol graduates, we plan to send him to live with our oldest.”
Whatever. Seo-ryong hated this kid. She’d said she was scared, but judging from what Kim Jeong-baek had shared, it sounded more like the boy had just pissed her off and gotten his face smacked for it.
With Kim Jeong-baek taking the lead, they offered the usual polite farewells and finally—after nearly two hours—managed to leave.
