The Hunter’s Gonna Lay Low - Chap 289 The Predetermined End
Cha Eui-jae opened his eyes. A damp, heavy something was draped over them. It felt like a wet towel. Hadn’t this happened before? Underneath the towel, Cha Eui-jae blinked several times. The pain that throbbed throughout his entire body was one thing, but—
‘…Where am I? Here.’
He had definitely collapsed in the library, yet now he found himself lying in what felt like a bed. Cha Eui-jae absentmindedly grasped at the soft, weighty blanket, lost in thought. This wasn’t the Seowon Guild infirmary. There was no smell of disinfectant, no drafts seeping through hastily patched walls. The blanket was softer, and it felt… familiar.
He pushed the damp towel aside and blinked. Darkness still surrounded him. The only thing visible was a red number, which had sharply decreased to 25 hours.
‘Did I lose almost an entire day…?’
There was no time to waste. Just as he attempted to sit up, a chilling voice reached his ears.
“…You’re awake?”
Cha Eui-jae flinched, his shoulders instinctively drawing in. A soft sigh followed— a sound filled with unmistakable displeasure. Without thinking, he held his breath and hesitated. A beat later, his mind finally caught up.
‘…Lee Sa-young?’
Footsteps echoed. Deliberately loud ones. They approached the bedside and came to a halt. That eerie voice spoke again.
“Does your hand hurt?”
“…Hand?”
Cha Eui-jae flexed his fingers. Something was tightly wrapped around them. A low voice murmured,
“I applied medicine and wrapped it in bandages. The nails that had already broken couldn’t be fixed with a potion.”
“Ah.”
Only then did the sharp pain in his fingertips register. It must have been overshadowed by the overall agony in his body. Cha Eui-jae lightly brushed his fingers together before replying.
“…It’s bearable.”
“If it gets too painful, let me know. There’s painkillers.”
“Okay.”
Forcing out his voice with some difficulty, he then asked,
“Where… is this?”
“Home.”
“Home?”
“The place we lived in, in this world.”
Was this the place he had seen in that lunatic Lee Sa-young’s memories? Cha Eui-jae tilted his head slightly. With his sight gone, he had no way to be sure.
“Are you hungry?”
“Uh, not really—”
“Eat anyway. You need to take medicine.”
Something cold abruptly reached toward him. Reflexively, he jerked backward, but whatever it was remained steadfast. Carefully, Cha Eui-jae extended his hand to feel it. A gloved hand.
The owner of the hand whispered,
“Hold on and get up.”
“No, I can do it myself. I can walk.”
“Oh? You’d rather stumble around blindly and crash into something? You don’t even know the layout of this place…”
That chilling voice sneered. Great, so he’d been found out. There was no way he wouldn’t notice that Cha Eui-jae couldn’t see. He quickly calculated his next move. But had Lee Sa-young realized the other part? That he was mutating? Before he could ponder further, that eerie voice pressed him again.
“Even if you’re scared, just take my hand.”
Every word sent his nerves bristling. Swallowing thickly, Cha Eui-jae reluctantly grasped the offered hand and slowly stood up. The cold wooden floor sent a chill through his feet. Lee Sa-young gave his hand a light tug, wordlessly urging him to follow. Cha Eui-jae hesitated before trailing behind, scanning his surroundings.
‘This feels like being taken away…’
Was it because he couldn’t see? Or because of the unfamiliar sensation of the glove? The one leading him didn’t feel human. More like something closer to a monster.
At last, Cha Eui-jae understood why civilians and lower-ranked hunters steered clear of Lee Sa-young. It wasn’t just his venom— his very existence was alien. Merely standing near him exerted a crushing presence.
And Cha Eui-jae was instinctively terrified. He tried to suppress his trembling, though he knew it was pointless.
His rapid heartbeat, his uneven breathing, the way his eyes flitted aimlessly, the frequent swallowing, the cold sweat, his quivering hands and body— Lee Sa-young would notice it all. Yet, he said nothing.
And that silence terrified Cha Eui-jae even more.
But he had to endure it. He repeated it to himself. Sa-young isn’t scary. Sa-young isn’t… Forcing a steady voice, Cha Eui-jae asked,
“What about the job? The one Jung Bin called you for.”
“Oh? You’re still thinking about that in this situation?”
Lee Sa-young scoffed.
“I told them I couldn’t go. Obviously.”
“…Is that okay?”
“Where the hell would I go when someone I left alone ends up sprawled on the floor?”
His tone was sharp. The gloved fingers brushed against Cha Eui-jae’s palm.
“I told Hornet to go instead.”
“…Did she?”
“When I said you collapsed, she grumbled but left.”
That was expected— Honeybee was responsible like that. Imagining her clicking her tongue at Lee Sa-young before stepping up eased some of Cha Eui-jae’s anxiety. The footsteps ahead stopped. A bitter scent filled the air. The scent of death. A chill crawled up his nape.
“Sit here.”
A chair scraped against the floor. A guiding hand led him forward. Cha Eui-jae fumbled, then sat down. The owner of the hand remained behind him, gripping the chair’s backrest.
“…”
Cha Eui-jae swallowed hard. He could feel it— an inscrutable gaze sweeping over his entire body. Everywhere it landed, it felt as if something sharp was digging into him, peeling away his defenses. He felt exposed, as if everything about him had been laid bare. His palms, damp with cold sweat, rubbed anxiously against his pants.
Scrape.
The presence behind him pushed the chair in and stepped away. Cha Eui-jae held his breath, suppressing any sound as he tried to steady himself. He knew it was Lee Sa-young taking care of him. But maybe because he couldn’t see, or because he was just an ordinary civilian now, it felt like…
A monster was sitting with him.
Click. The soft clatter of a bowl being placed down broke the silence. A nutty aroma drifted through the air, accompanied by a comforting warmth.
‘…Porridge?’
His fingers brushed against something cool and long— a spoon, pushed toward him. He grasped it.
“…”
He wasn’t hungry. Not even remotely. From the moment he woke up, survival instinct had taken precedence over every other need. How could he possibly feel hunger in a situation like this?
But Cha Eui-jae forced himself to eat. He cradled the bowl with one hand, scooped with the other, and shoved the porridge into his mouth. No taste registered, only heat. He swallowed with difficulty.
“…”
Cha Eui-jae muttered while fiddling with the bowl.
“Did you buy this?”
“I would’ve, if any porridge shops were still standing.”
“…You made it yourself?”
“I asked someone else to do it. If I made it…”
He trailed off. Cha Eui-jae knew what the next words would be, so he didn’t press him to continue. Instead, he scooped up a large spoonful and shoved it into his mouth.
How much had he eaten? The spoon scraped against the bottom of the bowl. Only then did Cha Eui-jae finally set it down. Forcing himself to eat hadn’t exactly left him feeling good, but he mustered something close to a smile.
“Thanks for the meal.”
“…”
No response. The weight in the air remained unchanged, pressing down on him just the same. After a moment, a hand collected the bowl and spoon, then placed something near his hand— a cup, perhaps. Cha Eui-jae fumbled for it and took a sip. Cool water. Hoo. He let out a small breath and leaned back against the chair. It felt like walking a tightrope.
Shhhh…
The sound of running water. Cha Eui-jae coughed lightly into his hand. Cough.
And then—
Clang— The sharp sound of breaking porcelain rang out. Startled, Cha Eui-jae instinctively tried to rise from his seat, but a large hand clamped down on his shoulder, pinning him in place.
“Ah…!”
“Don’t get up.”
“Hey, wait— That hurts…”
“Your hand.”
“What are you talking about all of a sudden?!”
“I said, give me your hand!”
His voice lashed out, loud and commanding. A firm grip seized the hand Cha Eui-jae had used to cover his mouth. And in that moment, Cha Eui-jae realized—
‘He knows.’
Lee Sa-young knew. He knew that Cha Eui-jae was mutating. A chill crawled through his entire body. After a pause, the hand on his shoulder lifted. But before it could retreat completely, Cha Eui-jae reached out in a rush and caught it.
“Wait—!”
“Let go.”
“That was just a cough! It’s not what you think—”
“Let. Go.”
The sharp edge in his voice was laced with an unsteady breath. Shhhh… through the rush of running water, Cha Eui-jae caught it— a subtle shift in his breathing. It was faint, but he could tell. He’d been paying too much attention to miss it.
Carefully, Cha Eui-jae spoke.
“You…”
“…”
“Are you crying?”
