Strange. The sensation of lips being pressed together was so vivid it made him flinch, yet everything aside from Moon Tae-young’s reaction seemed to blur.
A rush of exhilaration—almost euphoric—surged through him at the realization that they’d finally gotten this far.
Beneath his half-lidded eyes, Cha Eui-sung’s pupils dilated. As his pulse quickened, his neat front teeth nipped at his smooth lower lip.
He flinched from the stimulation and let out a shaky breath. The moment his lips parted, Moon Tae-young’s mouth pressed in deeper, as if he’d been waiting.
“Mmph…!”
The startled noise slipped out without thinking, and his face flushed crimson in embarrassment. But there was no time to dwell on it.
Even the simple act of rubbing against the hypersensitive skin around his mouth scattered whatever awkwardness lingered, sending a tingling shock through to the back of his scalp.
At some point, the hand that had been stroking his hair slid down to cradle the nape of his neck and pulled him in. It was a vulnerable spot to touch—one critical to survival—yet he felt no urge to pull away. That alone felt strangely remarkable.
If he tried to snap his neck or choke him right now, what would he do?
What else? Break his arm, obviously.
The thought of those hot fingers curling around his throat made Cha Eui-sung flinch. The fact that the idea itself was turning him on… he definitely wasn’t in a rational state of mind.
Hoo, breath slipped between them, and his moist lips kept teasing at his mouth. On impulse, Cha Eui-sung darted his tongue out and licked them—and Moon Tae-young chuckled softly.
Then Moon Tae-young tugged gently on the tip of his tongue before their lips sealed again. This time, his tongue pushed past his lips and slid inside.
Panicking, Cha Eui-sung momentarily froze, but Moon Tae-young didn’t hesitate—he pushed in deeper. Wet, squelching sounds filled their mouths as Cha Eui-sung’s mind went blank.
What the hell… am I supposed to do here…?
Unfortunately, he had zero experience in this department. Left still and passive, Moon Tae-young’s tongue twined with his, slowly rubbing and stroking. The way his tongue swept along the roof of his mouth was maddeningly vivid—it made Cha Eui-sung close his eyes on reflex.
Tongue withdrawing, lips pressing and parting again—each motion echoed with damp, obscene sounds.
Jesus Christ.
At this point, losing his sanity might be the better option. Hearing those lewd noises in full awareness was dizzying. Who knew one little kiss could drag him along like this?
Normally, this would be the point where his brain would explode with questions—is this right? Should I keep going? What’s the Savior Gauge doing? What’s Moon Tae-young thinking?—but none of that came.
Moon Tae-young was stuck to his mouth like an empty tin can. He wasn’t lacking oxygen, yet he kept gasping like he was short of breath. The only thought flitting in and out of his head was how embarrassingly pathetic he must look.
He didn’t even know what this feeling was anymore. When he finally forced his eyelids open, he saw Moon Tae-young, his eyes narrowed to slits.
Not a single moan escaped the man, yet the irregular breaths brushing against Cha Eui-sung’s face were somehow more intimate.
Right. If this damn Demon King’s satisfied now, then maybe he won’t pull that “should I run or not” shit again and mess up the Gauge.
The sound of their rapidly beating hearts—his just as loud—felt like celebratory drums, proclaiming victory.
Pop!
The moment their lips parted, a familiar notification chimed in his ear. But his head was buzzing, and he was still riding the high. He didn’t even think to check the System.
His whole body tingled, and he felt parched—like he couldn’t stop.
Cha Eui-sung pulled Moon Tae-young in close and nuzzled against his neck again, trying to calm his burning body by breathing in his scent like his lungs were going to burst.
At some point, Moon Tae-young’s hand slipped under his shirt, fingers toying with the faint scar along his side. When Cha Eui-sung twitched, the hand obediently shifted back to his waist, gently stroking his skin.
“Hoo…”
Like someone burning up with fever, Cha Eui-sung writhed softly in the embrace. Every inch of him that touched Moon Tae-young felt hypersensitive, like he’d been branded.
Apparently, he wasn’t the only one overwhelmed by residual heat—when he glanced up, Moon Tae-young’s jaw was rigid, clenched.
His glasses, already askew earlier, had long since flown off. The slight furrow in his brow was clearly visible.
Hmm.
Sadly, the glasses didn’t seem to be some perception-blocking item. Moon Tae-young’s real face still refused to reveal itself. But his flushed lips were hard to miss.
No visible accessories either, so maybe it’s a skill.
He’d spent the whole afternoon digging up dirt on Moon Tae-young, and now here he was—devouring the guy right after sunset. The sheer absurdity of those two extremes was laughable. Still, the fact that the entire day had been about Moon Tae-young… that was oddly fascinating in itself.
Their bodies were still hot where they touched, but if they didn’t stop here, things might turn awkward again. The Demon King had already buried his face in Cha Eui-sung’s hair and was quietly calming himself.
A small part of Cha Eui-sung wished Moon Tae-young would finally snap and show his true monstrous nature—but thinking about it, he wasn’t sure he was ready either.
His stomach was knotted tight, annoyingly so, and he forced himself to push down the tension as his mind wandered through all sorts of bitter, random thoughts.
Incheon148… revenge… half-assed System King cosplay…
He really did seem to need to drag himself through the mud just to come back to his senses. It made him wonder if that’s what “rationality” was supposed to be.
Cha Eui-sung finally sat up, bleary and disheveled, once his breath had steadied and the heat subsided a bit.
The tablet PC, knocked over during their kissing, was flipped onto its back, stuck on the final scene of the end credits.
Moon Tae-young casually smoothed out Cha Eui-sung’s messy brown hair with his fingers. The touch was dry but oddly gentle. Rather than flustered, Cha Eui-sung just felt weird.
What is it with him always touching my hair?
Strangely enough, from then on, even without staying close physically, they continued spending time together.
Moon Tae-young gathered the papers scattered across the desk while Cha Eui-sung lazed around on the beanbag for a while.
Thankfully, it wasn’t awkward. The moment the System screen popped up, Cha Eui-sung had something to focus on.
[SAVIOR GAUGE]
■■■■■■■■■□
□□□□□□□□□□
45%
Damn, that’s a jump.
Ten percent in two days. Seven percent from a single encounter—that was a first. It filled him with a deep sense of satisfaction.
He felt smug, having gotten this far off the back of vague, cryptic info tossed at him like candy shards from a ten-story building by the System.
His confidence, which had shriveled for a while, was finally growing back. In a world where you can’t trust a damn soul, there’s nothing more valuable than self-belief.
Cha Eui-sung hummed a random tune and smiled.
Maybe I should do this more often.
It probably wasn’t just the physical contact that caused the Gauge to spike so easily.
More than that, this moment had felt like a turning point.
Just as he expected—their relationship was transitioning from something vaguely affectionate to something closer to romantic.
If he was right, the more Moon Tae-young’s thoughts and feelings aligned with what the System demanded, the easier it would become. Eventually, simple things like deep conversations or hugs would be enough to push the Gauge upward.
But that would only happen once they both got used to it. For now, there were still hurdles to clear.
The first touch. The first kiss. The first time. Every “first” was a barrier being torn down. And the moment Moon Tae-young chose to accept those, their relationship would take a step forward.
There was no way in hell Cha Eui-sung was letting the System miss out on this prime opportunity. Moon Tae-young wasn’t the type to just fling himself into anything, which made every “first” all the more valuable.
Satisfied, Cha Eui-sung closed the System screen. After all that introspection, he figured it was about time to leave.
“Heading out?”
“Yeah. Have a good night.”
Moon Tae-young, in the middle of reading, put his book down and immediately approached. That kind of quick reaction wasn’t typical of him. It gave Cha Eui-sung a subtle high—as if he had the upper hand again.
Still, since he was leaving anyway, he didn’t push for more. He just hugged Moon Tae-young tightly once and pulled away cleanly, slipping on his shoes.
“Be careful.”
“Careful? Me?”
Shouldn’t others be careful around me? Snorting at the ridiculous suggestion, he was surprised to see Moon Tae-young nod, dead serious.
Just a hunch, but Cha Eui-sung figured he’d outperform Moon Tae-young in combat. Even among S-ranks, there were differences in physical endurance and raw firepower—and Cha Eui-sung’s skills were entirely offense-focused.
So what if I cough up blood from some batshit skill? It’s not even that bad once it’s over.
He brushed off the concern casually and made his way past the yard and through the front gate, but even then, he could feel Moon Tae-young’s gaze following him the whole way.
***
One of the perks of a secluded countryside village is that, no matter what kind of shady business you get up to late at night, as long as you don’t draw attention, no one notices.
Especially if there’s even a modest mountain nearby—because unless you’ve completely lost it, no sane person would wander into a boar-infested forest at a time of night when you can’t see a damn thing in front of you.
It was an unusual terrain feature for a village surrounded by sprawling farmland, but tonight, it worked in Cha Eui-sung’s favor.
Crunch-crunch-crunch!
The sharp sound of dry leaves being trampled echoed through the trees. A large figure darted through the mountains at a pace so extreme it almost left afterimages.
Not even a rabid wild boar could move this fast. Gliding effortlessly through dense trees at a terrifying speed, the figure looked more like some futuristic 23rd-century combat robot made of special alloy.
Relax the power… Relax… the power…!
Thud-thud-thud, crack!
Whenever he came upon steep terrain or large boulders, he jumped, landed, and spun mid-air like the star of some ghost story.
Though honestly, not even a ghost would try to do squats while balancing a boulder on its back.
Craaaack—!
“Huaaah!”
Cha Eui-sung slammed the boulder back into the earth with a grunt, exhaling in frustration. It was the first time he’d broken a sweat since his Regression, and yet there was no sign his strength was waning.
He’d been running for hours. At this rate, a trail would form wherever his footsteps fell.
In the end, Cha Eui-sung wiped the sweat from his brow and trudged back down the mountain.
“Fucking body…!”
His directionless rage ended up turning inward—at himself, once again.
