“…Agh!”
Caught off guard by the message, Cha Eui-sung let out a sharp cry, clutching at his scar as it throbbed painfully. Only after shaking his arm out to lessen the pain did he blink rapidly and glance at the system window.
It wasn’t a mistake. A real system alert had popped up.
“What the hell? Why am I getting a reward out of nowhere…?”
Faded Photograph Fragment had only activated a few days ago. He’d figured it’d be a while before he even saw the system again, let alone received a gift. This sudden manifestation of the system’s presence was both baffling and disorienting.
And even though it was supposedly giving him something good, the unease creeping in might’ve had everything to do with this bastard’s track record.
Recalling the unpleasant side effects of the Faded Photograph Fragment, Cha Eui-sung anxiously began to scan through the new skill.
“Hero’s… Right.”
What the hell was that supposed to mean? Since when did Heroes get something like rights? Wasn’t the whole premise of this thing, “O Hero, from now on you must stop the Demon King and protect the world—there’s no option to refuse, so if you want to live, get moving,” one of those do-or-die assignments that didn’t even ask for your consent?
The skill name alone left a sour taste in his mouth. Grumbling, Cha Eui-sung pulled his discarded shirt back on and continued reading the description.
“Support… Amplification… That doesn’t sound bad.”
He was worried the skill might come with new side effects on top of the old ones. But for once, not a single negative term appeared.
Strangely enough, the system didn’t even censor any parts of the message this time—like it was baring everything. But even with such uncharacteristic transparency, Cha Eui-sung couldn’t shake his unease. He kept darting his eyes around the skill window, checking it over again and again.
Hmm.
Everything looked fine, but the phrasing… felt off. Almost like the system—an emotionless, inanimate presence—was clearly expressing a kind of emotional defensiveness.
[While I am giving the Hero something, it is absolutely not excessive, and is merely a just and rightful ability added as a small spoonful to what was already present.]
It sounded less like a skill explanation and more like a pathetic excuse—a very defensive one at that.
Seriously, just look at that underlined part. Who knew the system even had formatting options like that?
Are you even allowed to write official system descriptions like this?
Does crap like that really work? If the supposedly inviolable cosmic constraints of the universe could be bypassed with that kind of handwavey nonsense, that was scary in a whole different way.
“Well… if nothing else, it must mean it’s helpful, right?”
He threw the question half-heartedly into the air, but the world remained dead silent.
Looking a little dubious in front of the gift pumpkin that had rolled into his lap, Cha Eui-sung quietly put the first-aid kit back in place.
‘Sixth Sense.’ Intuition. A gut feeling. The sixth sense.
Or, more casually—a hunch.
You couldn’t exactly explain it, but it existed. And especially for Hunters who lived and breathed battle, it could be crucial—sometimes even the reason they lived another day.
The skill he’d just acquired was a support-type ability that enhanced this very familiar concept.
“Huh?”
But as he focused, his expression grew more uncertain. He didn’t feel much of a change. Frowning in silence, Cha Eui-sung opened his eyes again.
Don’t tell him it was another skill like ‘Faded Photograph Fragment’—one of those mysterious, auto-triggering types with conditions no one understood.
Or maybe the issue was that line: “So long as it does not deviate from the power granted to the Demon King.” Could that be the problem?
Maybe the skill could only be used in moments specifically related to Moon Tae-young’s ability. Whatever that even was, to warrant being referred to as a “granted power.”
“Well, whatever. I’ll find out when I use it.”
That was the real mystery. Where had the damn system even gotten the energy for this? Not too long ago, it was whining that the kingdom budget had run dry.
Now this? It made him feel more suspicious than grateful. Grimacing, Cha Eui-sung pictured the illusion of a ruined world.
“Forget it. Let’s just go.”
No point wasting brainpower on something he couldn’t figure out yet.
He looked down at his forearm—untouched even after sustaining pressure that would’ve crushed most people—and began packing his things.
It had been four days since he returned from the Chain Dungeon. And finally, he was going to pay Moon Tae-young a visit.
“You really didn’t come just because I said not to.”
—I only skipped one day.
“You weren’t coming in the first place.”
—That’s because you were already coming here before that.
That infuriatingly unyielding voice of his was starting to feel familiar. Cha Eui-sung couldn’t help but wonder—had he always been this petty?
Once upon a time, the guy had said dating was impossible because he was seven years younger, and now here he was, going toe-to-toe in a battle of words with someone younger.
—Have you been eating properly?
“Yeah. You left a ton of porridge, so I’ve been working through it.”
Honestly, a nutrient shake probably would’ve been healthier. Still, Cha Eui-sung powered through the endless sticky mass of that porridge at every meal, finishing it out of pure spite.
“I’ll be there soon, so wait by my seat.”
—I’m starting to wonder who actually owns this place.
“Probably the one who doesn’t need to rip the doorknob off to get in.”
—……
Yeah, thought so—you got nothing to say, punk.
Grinning deliberately, Cha Eui-sung hung up.
It was hard to say whether he should be happy or sad that after months of just texting, they were finally speaking on the phone again.
One thing was certain—Moon Tae-young, on the other end of the line, seemed a little more expressive than he did in person.
Not that it amounted to much—maybe a few extra drops of water in a bone-dry paper cup—but if that’s why he’d stuck to text all this time, it was kind of funny.
Does he answer the phone with a blank expression, too?
Or maybe—since he couldn’t be seen—he allowed himself to smile or frown in private. These little details, which had never mattered before, were suddenly becoming oddly intriguing.
***
Moon Tae-young had a habit of wiping all expression from his face. It wasn’t something he did unconsciously—he did it deliberately, even when fully aware. At least with others, he still wore a mask that could pass for a smile. But in front of Cha Eui-sung, even that disappeared.
Was that supposed to be special treatment? Or was it just discrimination? Still, the fleeting trace of relief that crossed Moon Tae-young’s face now—it was kind of nice to see.
Grinning like he’d seen it all, Cha Eui-sung watched him abruptly turn his head away and walk off, casually draping Cha Eui-sung’s outerwear over a chair as he did.
Pop!
[SAVIOR GAUGE]
■■■■■■■■■■
■□□□□□□□□□
56%
Did that just go up?
A solid 1% increase. What kind of emotional upheaval had seeing him arrive in one piece stirred up inside him?
This little shit. Acting all cute now, huh?
The other day he’d turned on his heel and left without blinking. So he had been worried after all? Cha Eui-sung padded across the rug with soft steps. He nudged the beanbag aside with a leg and plopped straight down onto the floor.
Then, in a pitiful tone, he addressed the bespectacled guy who’d been watching him all along.
“It’s really hard on the floor, y’know.”
“You have the beanbag right there.”
“It’s too cold. Cough, cough…”
“What are you trying to say?”
“Why don’t you come over here and stretch your legs a bit? I kinda wanna lie down… Preferably with you wearing something soft.”
Moon Tae-young frowned, clearly annoyed at how quickly Cha Eui-sung tried to milk it the moment he sensed an opening. Still, maybe the fact that he was faking weakness in front of him meant he really was fine now.
“Cha Eui-sung. You know, sometimes you sound like an old man. In the worst way.”
Oof—direct hit. A pretty clear jab about acting like a pervy middle-aged guy. Cha Eui-sung’s face heated up for no reason.
“Fine, whatever~”
Sheesh… Then how about you come over before I start saying embarrassing stuff? It’s not like I want to act this way. I just figured I’d try pulling a move while the gauge was up, but nope—shot down cold.
The same guy who can’t keep his hands off once he opens his mouth—clinging and nuzzling like crazy—is now playing hard to get.
Grumbling silently, he was relieved to see Moon Tae-young eventually shuffle over.
With a reluctant expression, Moon Tae-young sat down beside him and gently let Cha Eui-sung’s leaning head rest on his shoulder.
“Let’s watch something fun.”
“There’s never anything good on weekday evenings.”
“Then just play whatever.”
As Cha Eui-sung pressed his shoulder down for emphasis, his hair swayed with a gentle rustle. He could already guess—Moon Tae-young was playing with it again.
Why’s he so obsessed with my hair?
Once all this was over, maybe he should get it cut and gift it to him as a brush or something.
He tapped the remote a few times while entertaining that ridiculous thought, and by chance, a movie preview show was playing in rerun on a cable channel.
―Piyoooo! Babababababang!
―KWAANG! KWAGWAGWAGWANG!
A few cars and a stately old mansion went up in flames in a dazzling explosion. Entranced by the fiery spectacle, Cha Eui-sung stopped channel surfing and let his head relax against Moon Tae-young’s shoulder.
The host’s magnetic voice drew him in immediately.
―Kate, who lost everything and ended up on the streets. But she still had two things left: a photo of her brother inside a shattered rocket… and an S-rank ability born from misery.
―KWAANG!!
―The villains had broken the brakes of a speeding car. For them, nighttime was no longer a time of freedom and pleasure. In the Red Taser gang’s hideout, shrouded in darkness, a strange event unfolds…
―KIIIIING! PAAAT!
―KRAAAAGH!!
Hardship, despair, awakening, revenge, and triumph. The formula of hundreds of cliché action films released every year was always the same.
Once the protagonist underwent an ‘awakening’ in the Hunter sense, the resulting revenge was often so intense it bordered on brutal. If they didn’t gain physical powers, they’d orchestrate total destruction through schemes and Hunter Law instead.
Since the emergence of Awakened individuals, this polarity had only grown more extreme. Stories featuring “non-Awakened physical revenge” had practically vanished from the scene.
People knew now. No matter how much you train in the art of killing, for a non-Awakened person to kill a high-ranking Awakened—it’s almost impossible.
There was a time when non-Awakened protagonists with a special forces background were all the rage…
But the moment the actor from that beloved series was killed off by a mere C-rank criminal, unable to even fight back, something shifted in the collective consciousness.
BOOM!
Watching the villains go up in flames, Cha Eui-sung glanced sideways at Moon Tae-young’s face.
He was staring at the screen, his expression unreadable.
Still playing with his hair, as always. Cha Eui-sung eyed the faint TV glow reflected in his glasses and remembered a faded conversation with a man from his past.
“Don’t you want revenge?”
“I’m not sure.”
“He’s the one who ruined your life.”
“Still not sure.”
Suddenly, he wondered— Was this iteration of Moon Tae-young thinking the same thing?
Even though most of his life had been twisted and crushed, was he really going to just let go of the person who shoved him into that misery? That soft-hearted nonsense?
His stomach churned for no reason. A small urge welled up—he wanted to jab straight into Moon Tae-young’s inner thoughts.
“How do you see it?”
“…See what?”
“Revenge. If that were you on screen, how much do you think you could take back from the ones who stole what mattered to you?”
