The Hunter’s Gonna Lay Low - Chap 286
Cold wind seeped in through the gaps between the hastily nailed wooden planks. In the hospital room that Lee Sa-young had vigorously broken down and then repaired to the best of his ability, the two of them lay on the narrow patient bed. To be exact, Cha Eui-jae was being unilaterally hugged by Lee Sa-young. For about half a day!
With every breath, Cha Eui-jae could feel the rise and fall of the chest behind him. He clenched the flesh inside his mouth and closed his eyes. He had only come here to get some sleep, but far from resting, he hadn’t even been able to close his eyes properly.
‘This is so fucking uncomfortable…’
His unnecessarily sharp senses were keenly aware of the presence behind him. The lukewarm body heat, the rustling sounds, even the slightest muscle movements. Cha Eui-jae thought about prying off the arms wrapped around his waist and legs but gave up. He could remove them, but considering how they would probably end up breaking something in the struggle— like, say, the bed— it wasn’t worth it.
It seemed that Lee Sa-young had calculated his remaining time until death. The less time he had left, the more frequently and persistently he stuck by Cha Eui-jae’s side. Cha Eui-jae couldn’t push Lee Sa-young away. Truthfully, feeling his warmth reassured him. Besides, the longer they stayed together, the more noticeably the synchronization rate dropped.
Lee Sa-young, who had been rubbing his lips and nose against the back of Cha Eui-jae’s neck, muttered,
“Stop moving so much.”
“I’m the one who should be saying that. Hey… do you really want to do this in such a cramped space?”
“Because it’s cramped, it’s better… it keeps things quiet.”
Lee Sa-young playfully bared his teeth against Cha Eui-jae’s nape. That little— Cha Eui-jae flinched and curled his shoulders, then kicked Lee Sa-young’s ankle with his heel. Ouch. A small yelp of protest followed.
Ever since Lee Sa-young had boldly declared that Cha Eui-jae should die in front of him, he hadn’t taken his eyes off him— not just his gaze, but his whole body, following him everywhere. Even during meals, even in moments like this when Cha Eui-jae tried to get some rest.
Because of that, Cha Eui-jae…
‘This guy… is clingier than a kraken’s suction cups.’
…was dying here.
At this rate, it wouldn’t be surprising if Lee Sa-young noticed his eyesight issues at any moment. Honestly, the fact that he’d managed to hide it this long was already a miracle. If he confessed now…
‘It’s too late.’
It had already been days. If he admitted it now, he was certain Lee Sa-young would tear into him for it— Why didn’t you say anything earlier? Are you insane? —and then lock him up under the guise of ‘protection.’ He probably wouldn’t even be allowed to walk on his own. Lee Sa-young would just carry him around everywhere. That was absolutely out of the question.
‘It’s better to just hold out for two more days.’
In 48 hours, whether he liked it or not, the situation would resolve itself.
Cha Eui-jae tapped the hands wrapped around his waist.
“I’m wide awake now, so move. I need to work.”
“Sleep some more… I already told Jung Bin.”
“Told him what?”
“That you’re taking the day off.”
“What? Says who?”
“I did.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding me!”
Cha Eui-jae threw off the thin blanket and abruptly sat up. Naturally, Lee Sa-young, who had entangled himself around him, got dragged up as well. Running his fingers through his messy hair, Lee Sa-young grumbled,
“Seriously, you just can’t stay still…”
“A young guy like you should know how precious time is, damn it.”
“You’re young too, you know.”
“Shut up.”
With nothing else to do, Cha Eui-jae wandered around Seowon Guild’s headquarters, with Lee Sa-young trailing right behind him. The most absurd part? Everyone who saw them didn’t even bat an eye. As if it were a common sight. Even Yoon Ga-eul who was passing by commented with a chuckle,
“As expected! You two really get along well!”
This?
Cha Eui-jae glanced over his shoulder. He couldn’t see Lee Sa-young’s expression, which was always a little frustrating. He filled in the blanks with his imagination. Probably looking all smug right now, huh?
Just then, a familiar voice called from behind.
“Lee Sa-young-ssi, may I speak with you for a moment?”
“What is it?”
“A rift has formed, and we’re short on manpower. Would you be able to go?”
Cha Eui-jae pointed to himself.
“I can go.”
“No.”
“No.”
Jung Bin and Lee Sa-young rejected him in unison.
Jung Bin cleared his throat.
“You should rest a bit longer. I heard you haven’t been in great condition lately.”
“I’m fine, it’s not—”
“You’ve already spent days clearing rifts and handling monsters by yourself. You’ve done enough. It’s okay to take a break.”
“Yeah. I’ll go alone. Where’s the location?”
“If you come to the office, I’ll give you the details.”
“Alright.”
A gloved hand lightly brushed Cha Eui-jae’s arm. Lee Sa-young’s voice dropped into a quiet murmur.
“I’ll be back.”
“Yeah, take care.”
As Lee Sa-young and Jung Bin’s footsteps faded into the distance, Cha Eui-jae scratched his head.
For some reason, he felt oddly empty.
‘It’s ridiculous that I’m feeling this way just because I’m apart from Sa-young…’
Being alone was lonely. Especially in the face of death.
Without thinking, he started walking. No destination, just following his feet wherever they took him.
And then—
[Identified cause of synchronization system error.]
[Recalculating synchronization rate!]
A blinding white window popped up in the darkness, as if it had been waiting for this very moment.
Cha Eui-jae’s eyes widened.
Before he could even process the system’s message, a flood of new windows appeared.
[Synchronization rate is increasing.]
[Synchronization rate is increasing.]
[Synchronization rate is increasing.]
.
.
.
[Reassessing synchronization rate…]
Thud. A sudden shortness of breath hit him. Ah, damn it. Cha Eui-jae clutched at his stifling throat. No matter how hard he gasped, his breath wouldn’t steady. He flailed in the air, desperately reaching for something to hold onto, and managed to grasp a bookshelf. But maybe he miscalculated his strength—
Crunch!
The shelf he grabbed tore apart like paper. Books tumbled down with a loud crash. Gritting his teeth, Cha Eui-jae bent forward. His vision spun. The sound of his heartbeat drowned out everything else. Cold sweat pooled at his temples and nape. His mouth filled with bile.
Collapsing onto the floor among the fallen books, he pressed his face against the ground and hastily removed his mask. Then, he started gagging.
“Ugh…!”
Only bitterness came up. Gasping, he rubbed his forehead against the floor. His fingers scraped against it. No matter what he did, the suffocating sensation wouldn’t fade. Tears welled up in his eyes, his nose burned. Each time he thrashed, his body knocked into objects, but he felt no pain.
Then, against the darkness, a stark white screen appeared once more.
[Reassessment complete.]
[Current synchronization rate…]
His fingers, which had left long drag marks on the floor, lost strength. Cha Eui-jae curled into himself. Slowly, an unbearable pain crept in— his burning forehead, his scraped fingertips, his bruised body from hitting the bookshelf, his throat raw from the bile. His whole body felt drained. Blinking laboriously, he looked at the system window that blurred through his wet lashes.
[100%]
A sharp cough burst out. Cha Eui-jae hastily covered his mouth. Some unknown liquid seeped through his fingers. It didn’t taste like blood.
The floor beneath his cheek vibrated. Footsteps approached. A massive pressure washed over him like a tidal wave. He gathered his remaining strength to escape, but his legs wouldn’t cooperate. In the end, he could only drag himself along the floor.
He had to get away.
But where?
Darkness surrounded him on all sides. He crawled forward blindly, only to slam his forehead into something. A searing pain spread. He looked around, but there was nothing. Panic surged in his chest. Cha Eui-jae clutched his forehead, pressing himself against the ground. Damn it. His body trembled against his will. Desperate, he banged his head against the floor.
Something terrifying was approaching.
And then—
“…Hyung?”
The footsteps stopped.
At the sound of the voice, his body jolted. He struggled against the crushing pressure weighing him down. His trembling wouldn’t stop. Slowly, he lifted his head toward the source of the voice. Nothing was there. He squinted into the void.
“…”
The voice did not come again. Cha Eui-jae slowly blinked, his lips trembling as he barely managed to speak.
“…Lee Sa-young?”
“…”
He tried to ask if it was really Lee Sa-young, but shut his mouth. The last shred of his rationality warned him to look away. Don’t let it be noticed. Don’t let him see how weak you are. But as soon as the footsteps approached once more, that last sliver of reason was washed away like a sandcastle meeting the tide.
“…Sa-young-ah.”
His voice shook miserably. Cha Eui-jae reached out toward where he thought Lee Sa-young might be. But he grasped nothing.
Then, a hand reached out and took his.
The suffocating pressure intensified. A crushing pain wrapped around his hand. His mind went blank. Unable to say another word, Cha Eui-jae shut his eyes.
Lee Sa-young let his body go limp. The figure in his arms was a mess— cheeks flushed red, forehead pale, hair and body drenched in cold sweat. But more than that…
Lee Sa-young slowly uncurled Cha Eui-jae’s fingers from his own. On the black glove—
“…”
—there was blood.
And a translucent, white fluid.
