Moon Tae-young, who had landed the final blow, bit into his toast with a faint smile. Crunch—the crumbs falling onto the plate felt oddly chilling.
How can he even smile right now?
Truthfully, Cha Eui-sung had been taking him lightly recently. He’d only been testing the waters to fill his gauge, but Moon Tae-young swallowed the bait whole, developing actual feelings.
For a brief moment, Cha Eui-sung had been reassured, feeling as if he’d finally gotten the upper hand. It had made him relax his guard, forgetting that initial chill he felt around Moon Tae-young.
Yet, thinking about it clearly, wasn’t this the very man who’d once destroyed the world in his previous life? From the start, the fact that he quietly settled here without anyone noticing proved he was anything but ordinary.
How the hell am I supposed to date someone like this?
Should he just play dumb and let himself be devoured? Wasn’t that a violation of human rights?
As if sensing his thoughts, Cha Eui-sung wiped the smile clean off his face. Oddly enough, at that very moment, Moon Tae-young appeared satisfied.
What’s up with him now…?
It was obvious Moon Tae-young was interested, so why was he deliberately scaring him off? At this rate, it was like openly advertising to run away, rather than desperately pretending to be harmless.
Yet strangely enough, being this blatantly suspicious actually erased any sense of danger.
As Cha Eui-sung absentmindedly poked at his hardened toast, a sudden realization lit up his mind like a light bulb.
“Ha, seriously… Haha.”
Cha Eui-sung laughed dryly, glaring at Moon Tae-young. There was no need to overthink it. Moon Tae-young was literally issuing a warning right now: Sorry, but this is who I really am—just run away while you can.
“Yes, fine. You’re quite perceptive.”
Certainly, after observing him for months, Cha Eui-sung realized Moon Tae-young wasn’t entirely normal. He appeared flawless at a glance, yet beneath the surface, something was subtly broken.
He’d handled Lee Sang-jo without any visible hesitation, meticulously and obsessively investigated others’ habits or secrets, and quietly intervened out of goodwill while acting oblivious. If the other party never noticed, he would’ve probably pretended ignorance forever.
The scariest part was how effortlessly and naturally he did it, as if breathing.
Creepy and shady, alright.
Not exactly evil, but definitely different from his usual image.
But wasn’t everyone secretly twisted beneath their skin anyway?
“So, I think I understand why you’re acting like this, Moon Tae-young-ssi.”
“……”
“Am I right?”
Damn it, no wonder the gauge barely budged even after all that effort.
Moon Tae-young’s resistance had nothing to do with age differences. This guy was already burdened with revenge and hidden secrets, and even he knew his own mindset was subtly twisted.
Perhaps he maintained a certain distance from everyone, not just Cha Eui-sung. In this cozy little Cheongseri village, he was simply a very good “teacher,” not a twenty-nine-year-old man named Moon Tae-young.
Yet suddenly, someone appeared who inexplicably saw through him and walked straight into his territory. Every time he habitually tried to push him away, the guy would suddenly collapse, coughing up blood, and amidst that chaos, their relationship advanced on its own.
So now, at the very last line, Moon Tae-young had thrown ashes onto himself as a warning: This is who I really am, so if you can’t handle it, run.
Should I call this kindness…? Though I’m not exactly innocent myself.
Cha Eui-sung had already thoroughly investigated Moon Tae-young, even quietly storing a psychiatrist’s number, which wasn’t recorded anywhere else, in his phone.
If anyone should feel chills, wasn’t it Moon Tae-young instead? Not that he planned on telling him.
Having grasped the general situation, Cha Eui-sung felt an odd ache in his chest. Ironically, this revelation made Moon Tae-young even more fascinating than when he’d acted perfectly composed.
Normally, Moon Tae-young was so closed off that thinking of him felt like wandering in fog. Now, excitement mixed with accomplishment began swirling warmly inside Cha Eui-sung’s chest.
“Heave-ho.”
Adjusting his posture, the pushed-aside beanbag rustled. Cha Eui-sung set aside his plate and leaned forward. As their faces drew closer, Moon Tae-young leaned slightly backward.
“Thanks to you, things got interesting. Honestly, I like this version of you better.”
“Haa.”
“If I were going to run away over something like this, I’d have done it ages ago. I’m not an idiot.”
From the start, even his household decor wasn’t exactly normal, so why act surprised now?
Thunk. Cha Eui-sung bumped his forehead softly against Moon Tae-young’s. Seeing the lingering hesitation in those black eyes, he gently cupped Moon Tae-young’s face with both hands.
“Anyway, I’m saying I like you.”
“Can you first remove your hands—”
“My pride is seriously at stake here, so just stay still for a moment.”
Cha Eui-sung made a genuinely gloomy expression. His gaze overflowed with countless emotions, as if he’d endured his share of pain. But among them all, his longing for the Demon King stood out most intensely.
As the undisguised emotion filled those brown eyes, a strange glint passed through Moon Tae-young’s expression.
Cha Eui-sung felt an indescribable sensation swirl deep within.
You think you can push me away? After killing me once and saddling me with this fate?
The emotion was far too intimate to be called mere ambition, yet too gentle to be simple anger or resentment.
Almost magnetically, he recalled the memory revealed by his skill—an image of Moon Tae-young smiling happily flickered vividly in his mind.
Carefully pulling away, Cha Eui-sung pushed the low table aside. He reached out again, gently embracing Moon Tae-young’s stiffened back.
“At least allow me this. I’m not doing anything strange.”
As he sighed into his shoulder, Moon Tae-young shuddered slightly. But soon, a large hand came to rest on Cha Eui-sung’s waist.
Warmth slowly wrapped around him—the gentle tremor of shoulders and neck, the softness of fabric, quickening heartbeats, rising and falling chest…
Though they weren’t pressed tightly together, every sensation was vividly felt—each finger wrapped around him, even Moon Tae-young’s subtle scent tickling his nose.
He hadn’t expected much, but this felt surprisingly good. Cha Eui-sung tightened his arms and softly closed his eyes.
“You seem like you have something hidden, but so do I.”
As he murmured into Moon Tae-young’s shoulder, the grip around his waist tightened. Moon Tae-young might have turned his face away out of some remaining sense of reason, but their upper bodies pressed together seamlessly.
“There’s no set order in life, so what does seven or seventeen years matter?”
At that, the faint resistance vanished entirely. He felt breath ghost across the back of his neck, sending chills down his spine.
Before long, uneven breathing brushed his hair, and strong arms wrapped firmly around his back.
“Do you still think this is okay?”
“…It seems so.”
“If anyone heard us, they’d think you were preying on a twelve-year-old.”
They forgot the beanbag, their meal, everything in the dimly lit living room. Cha Eui-sung held onto Moon Tae-young for a long while.
The mood aside, the hug he’d initially tried as a stepping stone toward their first kiss ended up feeling unexpectedly nice.
If holding someone alive felt like this, maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad to keep someone by his side in his previous life.
Although it had been a long time since he’d felt cold, Cha Eui-sung sensed that once separated, his body would feel strangely chilled.
“I’ll come again tomorrow.”
“…Alright.”
“And the day after.”
“As you wish.”
He subtly secured Moon Tae-young’s consent while his rationality faltered. Afterward, feeling relieved, he relaxed into his arms.
Just before pulling away, Moon Tae-young’s lips brushed against his neck. Imagining how he must have leaned into him, Cha Eui-sung’s face oddly heated up.
Rubbing the hand still on his waist several times, he straightened up. Glancing out, he saw the window was already pitch black.
Pop!
[SAVIOR GAUGE]
■■■■■■■■□□
□□□□□□□□□□
38%
The gauge blinked cheerfully, commending his progress.
Before he could fully check the system window, Cha Eui-sung met Moon Tae-young’s gaze. Fingering the spot where Moon Tae-young’s breath had lingered, Cha Eui-sung smiled in deep satisfaction.
***
Perhaps it was because of all the bizarre things that happened that day, but the night was a chaotic one.
Even after returning home and lying down in bed, Cha Eui-sung’s mind kept racing restlessly. Each breath seemed to carry an imaginary warmth, as if the scent of that embrace lingered vividly.
How strange—something trivial was leaving far too lasting an impression.
Damn it.
The unfamiliar sensation budding beneath his ribs was unsettling enough, but even his lower abdomen was tense. Cha Eui-sung pressed a hand over his eyes, sighing languidly.
He’d lived at a vigorous age for quite a while, but he’d always been pushed to the limit by debts or work. Naturally, he had rarely experienced excitement, let alone desire.
Was this some sort of delayed reaction? His head was now burning up, all from a single hug. Instinct abruptly took control, driving out reason.
What the hell is wrong with me?
At times like these, it wouldn’t hurt to mechanically relieve himself, but reaching down felt strangely humiliating. For heaven’s sake, it wasn’t as if that bastard had touched him intimately or rubbed against him—how embarrassing to get this worked up over one mere hug.
Cha Eui-sung curled his body, twitching uncomfortably, struggling to suppress the heat repeatedly surging inside him.
Think about something else. Push Moon Tae-young out of your head entirely. The gauge… right, the gauge went up.
He got a full 3% increase from just one hug—no kissing, no pressing lips. For something he hadn’t even expected, it was quite a decent rise.
If merely hugging had this much effect, he felt slightly excited about how much the gauge would rise if things became more intimate. But realizing the gauge probably didn’t measure intimacy purely by physical contact cooled him off quickly.
If that were the case, I’d have tied him down by now and had my way.
Anyway, he’d crossed at least a small hill, if not a mountain, in becoming “something more” with Moon Tae-young.
The gauge had pierced through the dreaded 35%, and Cha Eui-sung had successfully dragged back the Demon King, who had initially fled from his own dark desires.
Did Moon Tae-young notice how electrifyingly vivid the moment was, enough to give him goosebumps when he finally released his tightly wrapped arms?
The goal was in sight.
“Haah…”
Yet, as he exhaled softly, Cha Eui-sung’s thoughts drifted back to Moon Tae-young once again.
…It had been quite fascinating to discover exactly where Moon Tae-young’s mindset was twisted. Swept up in romantic excitement, he’d momentarily forgotten—but from the start, Moon Tae-young had never been a normal person.
He felt strangely amused by the irony: Moon Tae-young didn’t even realize someone more twisted was standing right in front of him. Still, whenever he remembered those pitch-black eyes, his throat tingled sharply.
After breaking the 30% barrier, Moon Tae-young had started to seem almost normal and bland. But now, a renewed sense of curiosity had ignited.
Not to mention how large those hands had felt around his waist and back…
“Damn it, seriously.”
Cha Eui-sung kicked at the air in frustration. He wished he’d rather drain his energy through physical exhaustion so he could sleep.
What time was it, anyway…?
***
Flash. When he opened his eyes again, he was curled up like an ammonite fossil, wrapped tightly in his blanket.
He fumbled around to grab his phone and check the time, only to realize he’d slept straight through the morning.
“1 o’clock… Did I die or something?”
He had tossed restlessly the entire night, but normally, he’d still wake up within two or three hours. It had been ages since he’d slept so soundly without dreams, leaving him slightly suspicious.
Cha Eui-sung stretched his stiff neck and slowly sat up. Thankfully, last night’s heat had completely disappeared without a trace, leaving his mind clearer than ever.
Maybe the difficulty he’d had in controlling himself lately was due to lack of sleep. Just because his body was indefatigable didn’t mean his mind was equally invincible.
“Huuaaa… Oh, he called?”
Yawning deeply, he dialed back Kim Jeong-baek, who picked up immediately.
—About the doctor you asked for. I sent over the files this morning but didn’t hear back, so I wondered.
“Ah, right. I’ll check it now. You included details about people around him too, right?”
—Yeah, but didn’t you tell me not to mess with the Hunter Association? Looks like that doctor’s connected with them as well.
“…Really? How so? Never mind, I’ll see for myself.”
What was this? He suddenly felt wide awake.
