The Hunter’s Gonna Lay Low - Chap 246
Wait… he just fainted like that?
“Hey, Lee Sa-young.”
“…”
“Are you asleep? Really asleep?”
To check, Cha Eui-jae listened carefully and heard the sound of shallow breathing. Holding Lee Sa-young in his arms, he gazed blankly into the darkness. Was this a relief? It had to be, since he hadn’t done anything rash. Though he could still feel the lingering warmth from earlier.
Just then, Lee Sa-young’s previously heavy body felt a little lighter, and the clinking sound of chains disappeared. Cautiously, Cha Eui-jae ran his hand over Lee Sa-young’s back. Even through his clothes, he could feel the firm muscles, now without any visible wounds.
‘Did he lose consciousness and disconnect?’
He checked his wrists, neck, arms, and ankles. There was blood but no other noticeable marks. With that, Cha Eui-jae rested his chin on his outstretched shoulder and let out a sigh. So that’s what they meant by “he won’t die”—his body would remain unharmed.
“Haa…”
His mind was a mess. There was Lee Sa-young, who had lost control and charged at him, and then there was the fact that they had to keep repeating this. Whatever it was, he couldn’t leave Lee Sa-young in this place any longer. Cha Eui-jae groped around in the dark to find his mask and put it on. Supporting Lee Sa-young’s back and legs, he made his way to the firmly closed door.
But how would he open this door?
It had opened automatically when he entered. Cha Eui-jae gave it a forceful kick.
“Hey, open the door!”
There was a shuffling noise beyond the door, and then, with a thud, it slowly began to lift. Light poured into the darkness as it rose to the average person’s eye level.
And what greeted Cha Eui-jae were pale, horrified faces.
“…”
“…”
Thud. Bae Won-woo, who was staring blankly, dropped to his knees, while Mackerel let the water he was drinking dribble out of his mouth. Finally, Hong Ye-seong, with bloodshot eyes, looked at him cautiously and spoke.
“…My friend.”
“Yeah, what?”
“Did you kill him?”
“What do you mean, ‘did I kill him’? He’s just passed out. Asleep, maybe, or unconscious.”
When Cha Eui-jae took a step forward, Mackerel jumped back and pulled Bae Won-woo back with him. He held up his hand toward Cha Eui-jae.
“Uh, hold up, hyung-nim? Can we, like, keep a safe distance?”
What was wrong with these guys? Cha Eui-jae was already exhausted from being drained by Lee Sa-young. Annoyed, he replied.
“Safe distance? Stop talking nonsense.”
“Wait, hyung-nim, are you not aware of how you look right now? Like… you look like a horror movie killer.”
“What?”
“If you had a chainsaw instead of Lee Sa-young in your hands, it’d be perfect. Uh… is there a mirror anywhere?”
Mackerel fumbled through his pockets and inventory before pulling out a hand mirror with a triumphant “Aha!” and held it up to Cha Eui-jae.
“See? We’re not overreacting.”
“…”
In the mirror, a dark figure was reflected from head to toe, drenched in blood and holding what looked like a pitiful, helpless victim. Blood was smeared all over his mask, and his hands and neck were covered in crimson stains. Cha Eui-jae glanced down at the ground. Blood-stained footprints marked the floor, with droplets forming a small puddle below. He turned to look at the figure in his arms— Lee Sa-young’s pale face was spotless except for the blood around his mouth.
‘How come he’s so clean after all that chaos?’
It felt unfair. But to the others, he probably looked like a murderer figuring out how to deal with the last survivor. Bae Won-woo, snapping out of his daze, suddenly pulled a bottle from his bag.
Then, he uncapped it and—
“Forgive me, J…!”
Splash!
He poured it over Cha Eui-jae. To say he poured it was an understatement; he splashed the mysterious liquid so forcefully that it was more like a slap across the cheek. Silence fell between them.
“…”
“Whoa. Amazing.”
Mackerel, covering his mouth, took a step back, barely stifling a laugh. Even though he was suddenly doused with a strange liquid, Cha Eui-jae didn’t feel angry— Bae Won-woo wouldn’t have done it without reason. He wiped his damp hair back and stared at him. Sure enough, Bae Won-woo, who had thrown the bottle aside, was examining him carefully.
“Oh… are you okay? It’s not anything weird; it’s an antidote. Sa-young’s blood is poisonous, so your clothes wouldn’t have fully protected you.”
Ah, that’s right? He did it because he was worried about me, huh? Eui-jae smiled gently, though it couldn’t be seen.
“It’s fine. This much is nothing.”
“But.”
Hong Ye-seong lifted his head. Blood had stopped flowing from his eyes, which were now staring sharply at Cha Eui-jae.
“Why’d you come out so early? Normally, he’d last longer.”
“He passed out.”
“Suddenly? That’s unusual… You didn’t overstimulate him or anything, right?”
“…”
Hong Ye-seong tilted his head, looking genuinely concerned. Cha Eui-jae pressed his lips together without answering. Would letting him lick his fingers, take off his mask, and kiss count as overstimulation? He had some pride, after all. And Lee Sa-young did seem more unhinged than usual, attacking him like a wild animal, biting and licking…
‘Ah.’
Cha Eui-jae subtly adjusted Lee Sa-young’s collar as if lifting him, hiding any lingering marks. Hong Ye-seong, still deep in thought, sighed.
“Hmm, I expected him to last another hour… This messes with my calculations.”
“Is this even working?”
“Oh, of course. There’s no one as good at restraining as that Lee Sa-young from the last world. Even if it’s only half-complete, it’s effective.”
“But wasn’t that world’s Lee Sa-young supposed to keep the destroyed world from merging with ours? That doesn’t really stop the apocalypse, does it?”
“Hah… this is why the ignorant are hopeless.”
‘Hong Ye-seong’ shook his head. The slightly eerie intelligence in his gaze lingered. Meanwhile, Mackerel, wiping his wet chin, muttered.
“Was he always like this? I remember him being more… laid-back and absent-minded.”
Mackerel had a knack for subtly implying people were dim-witted. But whether or not it mattered, Hong Ye-seong pointed his finger at the air, muttering to himself.
“How should I explain this so you get it? Let’s see…”
As his blood-stained finger traced through the air, a miniature galaxy unfolded before them. His long finger drew a circle, forming a dark, ominous red sphere.
“Think of it like a massive game. Let’s say the apocalypse is the player, and these worlds are stages in the game that the apocalypse has to clear.”
“That’s a pretty sacrilegious metaphor.”
Ignoring Mackerel’s remark, Hong Ye-seong continued. The dark circle moved, swallowing one star after another in the galaxy.
“As the player, the apocalypse has to clear each stage. That’s the goal and the player’s instinct. But one stage didn’t get completely cleared— left on the verge of completion.”
The fast-moving dark circle paused in front of a star. The small star, half-swallowed by darkness, slowly regained its full shape, flickering precariously but still alight.
‘Hong Ye-seong’ pointed his index finger at Cha Eui-jae. The first world, where J alone had turned back time. That world had narrowly escaped the brink of destruction thanks to his sacrifice.
“So wouldn’t it want to try again?”
“…”
“Of course it would.”
The paused dark circle resumed its movement, consuming the star completely, leaving only fragments behind. It hovered for a while before moving on to another star.
How much time had passed? Slowly but surely, the fragments began to regain their original shape, though tattered and incomplete in places. Meanwhile, the black orb that had been prowling around finally came to a halt.
“Hey, a stage I’ve definitely cleared has shown up again? Though it doesn’t seem complete. Weird, huh?”
“…”
“Wouldn’t you come back if it were you?”
“I would, out of curiosity.”
“Well, that’s the gist of it. The apocalypse doesn’t have a personality, but if we were to explain it in human terms, it’s something like that!”
With a flourish of his fingers, the galaxy and dark circle vanished, leaving only the tattered star behind. Hong Ye-seong encircled it with his hand.
“Lee Sa-young’s job is to hold onto the ruined world and keep it together, overlaying it over ours. So it looks like the ruined world on the surface.”
“…”
“A kind of decoy. Understand?”
“…So it’s not a fundamental solution, after all.”
“Right. It’s just buying time. Who knows when it’ll catch on?”
A heavy silence settled over them. At that moment, Lee Sa-young’s fingers, cradled in Cha Eui-jae’s arms, trembled slightly. Cha Eui-jae quickly checked Lee Sa-young’s face. The long lashes seemed to quiver, and then, slowly, violet eyes appeared. The eyes gazed vacantly at Cha Eui-jae, and then…
“…”
Lee Sa-young extended both hands, wrapping them around Cha Eui-jae’s neck and pulling him closer. Cha Eui-jae followed, too stunned to resist. Then,
smack.
A kiss was placed on the mask.
Cha Eui-jae stared blankly ahead. He was sure his own face must look very much like the others’ right now.
