A sudden alarm blared through the air.
Startled, Cha Eui-sung quickly stepped back and checked the gate, but the portal showed no signs of change.
He looked behind him—same thing. No one guarding the gate seemed to have heard anything strange; none of them glanced his way.
Wearing a deeply uneasy expression, Cha Eui-sung stepped forward again.
BEEP—BEEP—BEEP—BEEP-BEEP-BEEP—
The alarm sputtered but wouldn’t stop.
It wasn’t a sound he was hearing with his ears. The warning was ringing inside his head.
But from who?
[-!!!!!-]
The System.
As he stepped back, the noise abruptly cut off. The alert window filled with nothing but exclamation marks vanished too.
Pressing a hand against his pounding chest, Cha Eui-sung slowly backed away from the gate.
What the hell? What is this?
He didn’t think the System normally gave warnings. Then again, considering it played Hero dress-up games with him, maybe it wasn’t that far-fetched.
What was unsettling was how the System, which usually stayed silent unless showing him his gauge or withholding even essential info, suddenly reacted like this.
And worse—it happened right as he stood before the dungeon where he’d died.
What the fuck…
The flicker of good mood he’d managed to recover was now plummeting straight into a pit of dread.
The mental reset he was aiming for with this “therapy” felt like it was being shredded instead.
Goosebumps covered his arms. Rubbing them briskly, Cha Eui-sung took another slow step away from the gate.
“Ah, are you done with your inspection?”
“No. Just a moment.”
Not wanting to look rattled in front of others, he pulled on his gloves. He’d only brought them as a formality, but now the idea of approaching the gate barehanded suddenly made his skin crawl.
He was an S-rank now. No monster inside any dungeon should scare him anymore.
But the fact that just hovering near this one could trap him in sheer terror? He hadn’t expected that in the slightest.
“The entry party’s about to arrive. I’m sorry, but you’ll need to wait a bit before proceeding.”
Cha Eui-sung nodded and stepped aside without complaint.
Better to back off and regain his composure than stand there acting jumpy and suspicious.
Besides, he was curious what the dungeon would look like once the Hunters entered.
Soon enough, the murmur of voices grew louder, and a group of fully armed Hunters appeared.
“Deputy Manager, I swear, I don’t even need the extra pay. Can you please take me off weekend raids next month?”
“This quarter, the dungeons with Daejeong and SY all overlap—every assignment’s falling on the weekend. And take your bonuses when they’re offered. They stack up faster than you’d think.”
Things still seemed stable, so corporate Hunters were the ones handling the clear.
When Cha Eui-sung had been assigned here before, it was a chaotic mix of unaffiliated Hunters, and the vibe had been sketchy as hell.
Once the necessary procedures were complete, a pair of Porters carrying specialized equipment followed the group of entering Hunters.
Cha Eui-sung watched their backs disappear into the portal with a strange feeling he couldn’t shake.
Flicker—the portal shimmered, its color dimming. A barricade was set up in front of the inspection area, and the wave-measuring device gave off a steady beeping sound.
Something about the tone reminded him of the alarm from earlier, and once again, a chill ran down his spine.
“I’ll take a look around.”
After being briefed on a few additional precautions, he approached the gate again.
He moved carefully, nerves on edge—but for some reason, this time there was no sound at all.
Just a soft zzzzzzzzzz—barely perceptible vibrations tingling through the air, only adding to the ominous atmosphere.
Pretending to inspect the area, Cha Eui-sung scraped up some dirt and dust from around the gate and sealed it into a glass vial.
Ding!
[SYSTEM: ░░░ has made contact ░░.]
An unreadable message popped up in front of him.
[SYSTEM: ░░ internal ░ observation ░░░.]
[SYSTEM: Connected ░░ scope ░░░.]
[System adjustment in progress…⧖]
The System was clearly trying to explain something. Its phrasing kept changing rapidly—like it was struggling to communicate—until suddenly, it paused with a standby window.
After several long seconds of silence, a new message appeared.
Ding!
[SYSTEM: Avoid the eye.]
Zzzzzzzzt—ZZZT—
POP!
And just like that, every single window vanished without a trace. Like waking from a dream with your eyes wide open.
A chilling cold spread across his mind.
Clink—clatter… A glass vial slipped from his hand and rolled across the floor. Cha Eui-sung quietly picked it up and turned away.
“Take care.”
He walked past the retracting barricade, down a long path, and climbed into the car he had come in. He drove in silence.
It wasn’t until he returned to the hotel and closed the curtains that he finally let out a strained breath. Hff. His legs trembling, Cha Eui-sung perched on the edge of the bed.
“What the hell is going on…?”
Goosebumps covered every inch of his skin.
Avoid the eye? Whose eye?
Based on the context, the one to avoid had to be connected to the Demon King. The Outer God that sought the world’s destruction.
And yet, the only thing haunting Cha Eui-sung’s mind right now was the vivid image of a nameless monster’s icy blue eyes. Because of course—he’d seen it there.
Ah, fuck. He’d only come here to confirm everything was fine. To give himself a little courage. And instead, this absurd lightning bolt came crashing down out of nowhere.
Now who was going to patch up this shredded mess of a mental state? Who was going to fix the unraveling thread of his sanity?
Letting out a ragged groan, Cha Eui-sung opened the System window.
He’d intentionally avoided checking it even once until now.
The design looked exactly the same as always, but just looking at it made his eyes feel like they were spinning.
He steadied his wavering gaze and started examining each skill, one by one.
That’s when he noticed something.
A part of the skill description had changed.
[Passive] Faded Photograph Fragment
— Restores and displays the memories of the Demon King ░░.
— The greater the weight of restored memories, the heavier the Burden on the Laws of Reality.
The redacted text that had been so stubbornly blacked out was now partially restored!
Memories… of the Demon King?
His neck stiffened the moment he read it.
“Ah, fucking hell.”
His already-tense body began to ache from his back up.
All those glimpses he’d seen through the skill… They were the Demon King’s memories.
“Shit…”
He’d had a faint hunch, but now that he had confirmation, his head throbbed like a bell had been rung inside it.
Cha Eui-sung lowered his head into his hands and squeezed his eyes shut.
So it really was Moon Tae-young.
The man who had lounged around in someone else’s bed, flashing a kind of bright, carefree smile he seemed incapable of in real life—that man had been Moon Tae-young.
Sure, it was hard to judge the age of high-ranking Hunters, but the man in the memories hadn’t looked young.
Just when had Moon Tae-young experienced all of that?
Forcing himself to stay grounded, Cha Eui-sung studied the skill description again. One particular phrase snagged his attention.
Restores and displays…
Restores?
Then that meant… those memories were gone now? How far back were they from?
In all recorded accounts of Moon Tae-young’s life, there were no missing periods.
He’d lived a steady, linear life—steadily climbing the ranks, eventually being assigned to Cheongseri, where he remained.
And if there had been a cut in time, someone as sharp as Moon Tae-young would’ve noticed something felt off.
Puzzled, Cha Eui-sung suddenly remembered the previous night. While lying on Moon Tae-young’s beanbag in a half-panic, he’d had a strange thought:
If the memories he was seeing through the skill really belonged to Moon Tae-young, then maybe they weren’t from this life at all. Maybe… they were from before Regression.
Regression…?
If Cha Eui-sung had regressed to save the world, then what would’ve happened to the Demon King who was intrinsically linked to the Hero?
If they had regressed together, Moon Tae-young should’ve recognized him.
Yet he hadn’t. Even when their eyes had met right before his death.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump…
Cha Eui-sung could hear the sound of his own heartbeat echoing in his ears. He flopped back onto the bed and buried his face in the blanket.
The monstrous form that had been seared into his brain began to blur.
The terror that had paralyzed him just moments ago was swept away by a different kind of shock.
He was certain now. What Faded Photograph Fragment showed were moments the Demon King himself had forgotten.
The life Moon Tae-young had built during the ten years Cha Eui-sung had spent trying to rise through the ranks under the Hunter Association.
At that time, Moon Tae-young had a lover. And the System had decided that those memories were the key to preventing the world’s destruction.
That’s why the Savior Gauge had been assigned to Cha Eui-sung.
“So when I got closer…”
The gauge rose whenever Moon Tae-young showed him affection. The closer they got, the higher the percentage went.
To preserve the world, Moon Tae-young needed a lover. And since the original one was now god-knows-where, the System had decided to make him—Cha Eui-sung—a suitable replacement.
Feeding him pieces of the past like a study guide. Revealing old memories of a former lover, bit by bit.
“Damn it, why the hell am I only hearing this now? And in a dungeon, of all places? Show yourself! Hey, come on out!”
Cha Eui-sung shot upright, yelling into empty space at the System.
But there was no reply—nothing like the flood of warnings it had sent earlier.
He’d already suspected that even speaking to him put a strain on the System.
Was that why the skill descriptions had stayed obscured all this time?
And this time, it had been so urgent that the System had forced them open somehow—forcing a reaction that finally caught his eye.
What the hell was wrong with that dungeon?
……
In the quiet of the hotel room, Cha Eui-sung was left alone again—thrown headfirst into another problem he’d have to figure out and solve by himself.
Monsters and dungeons. The Demon King and the Hero. A lover. The Gauge. World-ending prophecies. Regression.
Too many pieces swirled in his head.
It was impossible to tell where to begin, which threads to cut, which to connect.
Running his hands through his hair in frustration, Cha Eui-sung finally gave up and curled into a ball on the bed.
He had a feeling—if Moon Tae-young were here right now, things might feel a little clearer.
But the irony was brutal. What was tormenting him now was Moon Tae-young’s own memory.
It was definitely a discovery, sure…
He hadn’t found the peace of mind he’d come seeking in front of that dungeon. But he’d provoked the System enough to get a solid answer.
He should be glad. He had a clearer destination now.
…And yet.
“I’ll leave it just as it is.”
Moon Tae-young’s words echoed pointlessly in his ears.
The hand that had gently closed his eyes. The soft, ticklish breath that lingered nearby.
Once he returned to Cheongseri, he’d no longer be just Moon Tae-young’s “friend.” He’d have to become the substitute for his missing lover.
