[Sudden Quest. CLEAR]
[Technically speaking, Returnee-nim, you didn’t handle it yourself. But it’s also true that you played the most significant role in clearing the Eid Portal. The system has generously counted this as your achievement, so please continue to be grateful <(-_-^)>]
[As a reward for completion, the time limit for the second quest has been extended.]
While Kim Sibaek was still reeling from Tae Woon suddenly becoming 35 years old, the other Hunters had managed to break the core behind them. Somehow, this had been credited as a successful quest completion. At least the immediate crisis threatening Earth’s destruction was averted—though Kim Sibaek still had another crisis to deal with.
“……”
Seeing Tae Woon smiling innocently as if nothing unusual had happened left him utterly speechless. He’d brought Tae Woon to the secluded area behind the partially destroyed, deserted Manastone Exchange, but now, what was he supposed to say? “Are you really trying to have sex with me?”
No matter how casually Tae Woon had tossed around the word “sex,” Kim Sibaek couldn’t bring himself to bluntly confront Tae Woon about it. After all, he wasn’t shameless enough to say such things directly, especially not to someone he still saw as a kid. Part of him desperately wanted to avoid the conversation altogether, but after carrying Tae Woon away in a princess hold, he realized avoidance was impossible.
If he brushed this aside, Tae Woon would inevitably try something similar again. This was, after all, the same kid who’d deliberately eaten spoiled food at someone else’s blind-date spot just to collapse dramatically from acute food poisoning back in elementary school. What wouldn’t he do?
Despite clearly knowing why he’d been dragged here, Tae Woon acted oblivious, merely gazing up gently at him. His phone kept ringing persistently in his pocket—undoubtedly calls from people searching for him after he vanished without a word—but Tae Woon just turned it off completely.
While hesitating over how to start the conversation, Kim Sibaek noticed a long scratch across Tae Woon’s cheek. First, he needed to take care of the wound.
“Where else are you hurt?”
“I’m really fine. It’s nothing serious.”
“Nothing serious, my ass.”
“Anyway, didn’t you say your healing isn’t that effective?”
Kim Sibaek inwardly clicked his tongue. Had he known Tae Woon would use that as an excuse to refuse treatment, he wouldn’t have explained earlier.
Healing injuries and illnesses was inherently contrary to the powers granted by Lord Biendeoé, a god of the Underworld. His Divine Power was inefficient when it came to healing, and it had clear limitations—it couldn’t reconnect severed limbs or regenerate lost flesh, for example.
However, since Biendeoé held a weaker position among the gods of the Underworld, limited healing was still possible. In contrast, priests serving Death and Rest, Biendeoé’s sister and the reigning goddess of the Underworld, couldn’t heal at all. Their Divine Power specialized solely in ending lives, not preserving them.
“Do you seriously think I’d hesitate to heal you? Even though your sleeve is black and hides bloodstains, your clothes are obviously torn, and you were bleeding.”
With a quiet sigh, Tae Woon reluctantly pulled his right arm from his jacket and rolled up the sleeve of his shirt with his left hand. In stark contrast to his usual all-black attire, his pale forearm bore a thin line of dried blood.
“It was just a scratch. It stopped bleeding already. I just need to lick it.”
“……”
But it wasn’t the minor injury that silenced Kim Sibaek—it was the numerous scars crisscrossing Tae Woon’s arm. Each scar spoke of 21 harsh years Kim Sibaek knew nothing about, etched onto Tae Woon’s body. Perhaps Tae Woon had grown numb to pain, no longer able to react to every wound individually because there had been too many to count.
Slowly, memories began to resurface. Suspecting Tae Woon would evade if he directly asked about the injuries, Kim Sibaek quickly shifted tactics.
“Are you developing presbyopia?”
“…I’m older now, but not that old yet.”
“No, it’s just something I’ve noticed lately. You’ve been wearing glasses at the office and while driving. It seemed like you had trouble seeing things clearly from afar.”
“That’s because of the injury on my face.”
Apparently deciding that admitting to bad eyesight was preferable to being called old, Tae Woon answered easily this time. He lightly tapped the scar on his left cheek.
“A monster’s poison got into this wound, and we couldn’t fully remove it. It probably damaged my optic nerve because my vision has gradually been deteriorating. It’s not a big deal, lots of people have poor eyesight, so you don’t need to worry.”
“Wait a second.”
Kim Sibaek silently raised his hand and placed it gently on Tae Woon’s scarred arm. The rough, uneven texture under his palm was proof of Tae Woon’s relentless struggle in a chaotic world. Soft, transparent light seeped into the scars, just as the demonic poison had once penetrated deeply—though this time, the sensation was warm and gentle.
“……”
Tae Woon blinked, utterly bewildered. Kim Sibaek also furrowed his brows slightly, experiencing a strange, fleeting sensation—a faint, almost nostalgic feeling brushing past him.
He glanced briefly down at the palm pressed against Tae Woon’s scars but quickly shook off the lingering sensation. That peculiar feeling vanished as abruptly as it appeared. Perhaps it was due to Tae Woon’s earlier words, still lingering in his mind.
Come to think of it, this was the first time Kim Sibaek had genuinely healed Tae Woon—not merely a simple purification or minor recovery.
“I’ve removed the leftover poison. The nerve damage itself was too old to fully heal, but your vision should be a little clearer now.”
“……”
“Woon-ah?”
At first, Kim Sibaek assumed Tae Woon was simply stunned by the sudden healing, but his reaction was oddly intense. Tae Woon’s dark eyes lost focus, wandering emptily through the air, before abruptly dropping down, widening as he stared blankly at his own palms.
It looked as though he were seeing his own hands clearly for the very first time, realizing suddenly that they belonged to him.
This reaction was far too extreme to just be about slightly improved eyesight from removing residual poison. Had something gone wrong during the healing process? Worried, Kim Sibaek reached out to steady Tae Woon’s shoulder—but Tae Woon visibly flinched and staggered backward, retreating a step in sudden alarm.
Tae Woon’s chest rose sharply as he took a ragged breath, his hands swiftly rising to cover his face. In the brief instant before his palms hid his features completely, Kim Sibaek caught a glimpse of twisted anguish distorting Tae Woon’s expression, filling him with unease. Yet when Tae Woon lowered his hands moments later, any trace of turmoil had vanished as though it had never existed.
“Hyung.”
Had he imagined it? Perhaps he was just overly sensitive. Lost in confusion, Kim Sibaek answered belatedly.
“…H-huh? What’s wrong? If something’s bothering you, don’t keep it to yourself.”
“You really want me to be honest?”
“Of course.”
“You told me not to hide anything.”
“…?”
Kim Sibaek stared blankly, trying to grasp the meaning behind Tae Woon’s repeated insistence, when suddenly Tae Woon’s usually gentle eyes narrowed intensely. Before Kim Sibaek could fully register the sensation of a smooth palm cupping his cheek, Tae Woon tilted his head and leaned forward.
“…!”
Without even giving him a chance to understand, Tae Woon’s lips covered his own, swiftly followed by a tongue that invaded his mouth ruthlessly. Caught entirely off guard, Kim Sibaek’s lips parted instinctively, allowing the eager intrusion. A surge of hot, moist heat flooded him instantly.
The kiss was deep and consuming, stealing Kim Sibaek’s breath as Tae Woon’s tongue explored greedily, their mouths pressing together hungrily. Slick, wet sounds filled the silence as tongues tangled, separated briefly, then collided again. Tae Woon seemed determined to claim every drop of saliva, every breath, with an urgency entirely at odds with his usual gentle nature. The unexpected intensity overwhelmed Kim Sibaek, slowing his ability to respond.
…Ah.
Only then did he fully realize he was being kissed. His heart plummeted, immediately racing wildly within his chest.
A kiss—with Tae Woon, someone he’d always treated like a beloved younger brother—was unthinkable. He knew he had to push him away immediately, but the raw desperation in Tae Woon’s movements, more intense than mere lust, drained the strength from his limbs.
“Ngh… mm…!”
Pleasure swelled sharply in his lower abdomen, sending electric jolts through his body—sensations he hadn’t felt in far too long. He stumbled back, only stopping when his back hit the wall. Tae Woon pressed him there immediately, the firm, muscular chest beneath layers of clothing pressing tightly against him, hot and heavy. Kim Sibaek struggled for breath, overwhelmed by Tae Woon’s heat and closeness.
With every ragged gasp they shared, Tae Woon’s chest rose and fell far more noticeably than Kim Sibaek’s. Tae Woon’s right hand, pinning Kim Sibaek’s arm against the wall, was gentle despite its grip—clinging rather than restraining, as if desperate not to let go.
The hand on his cheek traced down slowly, brushing the tense line of his neck, slipping over sharp shoulders and finally sliding lower, teasing the curve from waist to hip. Tae Woon pressed a knee firmly between Kim Sibaek’s thighs, and the distinct, swollen heat of his erection ground insistently against Kim Sibaek’s thigh, immediately snapping him back to reality. Tae Woon wasn’t the only one aroused.
As Kim Sibaek finally mustered enough strength to grip Tae Woon’s shoulders and push him back, Tae Woon stepped away without resistance. Their lips separated slowly, leaving behind a thin strand of saliva that stretched briefly before snapping silently apart.
Panicking, Kim Sibaek quickly glanced around for Lord Biendeoé, but the minor god had long since vanished without a trace.
“You… y-you…! What the hell…?”
His voice trembled, unable to form a coherent sentence. His heartbeat thundered deafeningly in his ears.
When Tae Woon had openly begged for sex, Kim Sibaek had rationalized it as mere pent-up frustration or reckless bravado. But a kiss—a gesture filled with subtle yet intense emotions—shook him far more deeply than any straightforward demand could have.
After pushing Tae Woon away countless times before, Kim Sibaek was now completely flustered from just a single kiss. Gazing down at him, Tae Woon slowly curved his lips into a shadowy, knowing smirk.
“You’re not going to pretend now that you never knew I liked you back then, are you?”
