Cha-hyeon held back the twitch in his brow with sheer willpower.
Have sex from time to time—what’s the harm in that?
Se-min, completely unaware that he’d just casually voiced the most infuriating future Cha-hyeon had once imagined—“Se-min realizes Cha-hyeon isn’t the Sung Cha-hyeon he wanted, loses interest, and guides him out of pity”—cleared his throat belatedly.
“Ahem… anyway…”
He seemed to realize, at least, that he’d just let something ridiculously provocative slip. If he’d truly lost all memory of Cha-hyeon, he must’ve assumed he was inexperienced. Trying to recover from his overly casual comment, Se-min reined himself in and continued in a more composed tone.
“If we raise your Favorability, maybe you’ll stop being afraid of getting your memories back. And, who knows—maybe another solution will show up later. Like Deputy Chief Jeong said, we could always take a gamble and try destroying the item then. For now… why not try it this way?”
Cha-hyeon’s lips parted, as if he were about to spit out some miraculous deus ex machina to fix everything. But he closed them just as quickly. Deep down, he knew—Se-min’s proposal was the best option they had.
He couldn’t keep Se-min locked up. And breaking things off wasn’t an option either. If Se-min’s Favorability dropped too low, he could leave at any time. If it stayed negative long enough, he could treat Cha-hyeon like a total stranger.
So, Cha-hyeon decided to take the gamble. Maybe, just maybe, at the last moment, he’d destroy the item—or maybe Se-min was right, and his perception would change, or they’d find a new, definitive method.
Ha.
This time, he didn’t suppress the bitter laugh. He’d finally realized that the weight of Se-min’s love now matched the weight of losing his own identity. He couldn’t give up either—but to choose love despite the uncertainty?
It was such an irrational choice, he could barely believe he’d made it. But then again… when had he ever been rational about anything involving Se-min?
He’d avoided entering dungeons just to keep from triggering unclaimed rewards. He’d mimicked the Original Cha-hyeon’s behavior in the Mindscape. And he’d lied to reassure Se-min—effortlessly, without hesitation—so long as it meant being chosen.
With a slow blink, Cha-hyeon rubbed his face with both hands.
“…Fine.”
Se-min’s face lit up instantly before he quickly tried to regain composure. He must’ve realized that Cha-hyeon had agreed to raise his Favorability without necessarily retrieving his memories.
He shot Cha-hyeon a furtive glance, as if wondering Did I decide too easily? But when he caught sight of Cha-hyeon’s reddened eyes and desolate expression, he looked away again.
Se-min pressed his lips together and, surprisingly maturely, began to speak.
“Then I’ll hold onto the items. It’s not that I think you’ll try to burn them behind my back or anything… It’s just, if you’re uncertain and get swept up in the moment, you might make a decision you’ll regret.”
In other words: I don’t trust you.
But Cha-hyeon, soaked in a strange mix of exhaustion and resignation, didn’t protest. He just nodded silently.
Se-min carefully stepped back and collected the items from the table. After a brief hesitation, he closed his eyes tightly—and when he opened them, he looked genuinely startled to find the items gone from his hands.
He’d just stored the three goddess-bestowed rewards in his inventory. His expression relaxed slightly, clearly relieved. But now that the deal was made and the items safely stored, it seemed he’d run out of things to say. He grew visibly awkward again.
His face gave it away—he was desperately searching for a natural way to make his exit. After a long pause, he finally opened his mouth.
“Uh… then… should we call it a night? It’s pretty late…”
“Yeah.”
Cha-hyeon pulled his gaze away. Se-min, now visibly sheepish despite his earlier confidence, backed away. He glanced toward the room where he’d been resting and asked hesitantly:
“Um, Hyung… I’ll just go ahead and head in now. …Ah!”
He bent down and picked up the sorted recycling under the table. His posture made it clear—he was the junior here, so cleaning up was only natural. With a respectful bow, Se-min spoke.
“I’ll toss this out and clean up outside. Please get some rest, Hyung.”
As he moved to flee the awkward air, Cha-hyeon spoke impulsively.
“Don’t call me ‘Hyung.’”
“…Huh?”
“Call me Hyung-nim instead. From now on.”
Se-min swallowed hard. But this time, there was no awkward dodge like “I’ll call you that once we’re closer.”
Maybe he’d really decided to try loving him again. Flustered, Se-min blinked his warm brown eyes, inhaled sharply, and his cheeks gradually flushed pink. He twitched with nervous energy—then suddenly shouted:
“Goodnight, Hyung-nim!”
He bent at the waist in a deep bow and quickly walked off. His reddened ears vanished behind the room divider.
Cha-hyeon could still hear the sound of Se-min’s footsteps growing distant. Then came the rattle of the door catching slightly. He heard Se-min mutter to himself, wondering if he’d locked it when he came back after seeing Deputy Chief Jeong off.
“Huh?”
Technically, with just a flick of his finger, Cha-hyeon could’ve used the black mist to jam the lock. But…
After jiggling the handle a few times, Se-min unlocked it with ease. A small click echoed, and he stepped out of the room.
“……”
Cha-hyeon slumped onto the sofa, his strength drained. Now that even Se-min was gone, the cold that had been hiding somewhere crept out and clung to him. Maybe that chill had been with him ever since the moment he accepted the death of his own identity.
He squeezed his eyes shut. A long time passed before he finally opened them again.
He was tired—utterly, profoundly tired. He didn’t want to do anything. In the corner of his vision, a translucent blue window flickered.
~Unclaimed Rewards List~
♦ …Clear Reward… (2/3)
- Linked Reward currently in progress.
His weary, dark eyes drifted across the newly added line. With a sigh, Cha-hyeon turned away.
An unclaimed reward he neither asked for nor wanted. That damned blue window, chasing him endlessly like a curse, whispering cruelly:
Don’t be happy with Se-min. You don’t get to have what you want.
“Why does it feel like the universe is only cruel to me…?”
Cha-hyeon murmured, barely audible.
For the first time, he truly began to wonder: Why was this reward given to me in the first place?
And for the first time, he recalled a dungeon he’d never thought too deeply about—the C/S-grade dungeon, the very first one, where he’d left behind all memories of Se-min.
Even knowing he couldn’t remember, Cha-hyeon reached blindly into the pure white void in his mind. He could almost hear Deputy Chief Jeong’s excited voice again, ringing like a hallucination.
“There’s a high probability that the theme of the S-rank dungeon Sung Cha-hyeon cleared solo was ‘Eros and Psyche.’”
“Was it perhaps structured in stages? Psyche had to go through four trials, after all…”
Even following that line of reasoning, all that remained to him was a stark, featureless blank.
What could’ve possibly happened in there for this “Unclaimed Reward” to appear again and again, constantly interfering with his and Se-min’s relationship?
Wasn’t this supposed to be a reward—from the very first, unprecedented solo-clear of an S-rank dungeon? Shouldn’t it be something beneficial?
But instead, this so-called reward was driving him to the brink, pushing him out of the picture—telling him to disappear so that Sung Cha-hyeon and Ji Se-min could have their happy ending.
It was a ridiculous thought, so unlike him, but… he couldn’t help wondering.
Did I piss off a goddess or something?
“Goddess’s wrath, seriously…”
He scoffed at the absurdity of his own mutter. Clearly, Deputy Chief Jeong’s obsession with mythology-themed dungeons had rubbed off on him.
Still, it felt far more realistic that someone, somewhere, could benefit from these unclaimed rewards. Someone who wouldn’t lose a thing by taking them all.
“……”
A faint line creased Cha-hyeon’s brow. His head tilted slightly.
The only person who wouldn’t suffer any loss from accepting this reward. The one who’d cleared that S-rank dungeon solo.
The person who, once Cha-hyeon regained all his memories, would steal all of Se-min’s love away without hesitation. Who would claim the relationship he built as if it were their own.
Someone who shared his body, but who only knew this version of Cha-hyeon—so much so that they’d leave behind a message like: “Love and doubt cannot coexist.”
“…Sung Cha-hyeon?”
