The Hunter’s Gonna Lay Low - Chap 292
Yoon Ga-eul leaned against the tightly shut door and let out a sigh.
Considering how abruptly she had joined the Memorial Dungeon, she was adapting surprisingly well. Or rather, it wasn’t really adaptating.
‘It’s probably thanks to the me of this world…’
Because the knowledge of this world had surfaced in her mind, one piece after another.
A world on the brink of destruction was relentless. The barren lands expanded daily, rifts formed endlessly, and Hunters had no time to rest as they moved from one rift to another, dealing with the monsters that emerged. They curled up and fell asleep in random corners of the library, never knowing when they would be called back into the field.
The number of patients seeking out the Seowon Guild also increased. From minor scrapes…
To humans who had begun to mutate.
Nam Woo-jin, the Guild Leader of Seowon, had designated a separate space for the mutated individuals. The symptoms of mutation were as follows; persistent coughing, expelling a white fluid when coughing, and physical distortions or mutations across the body. Just before a complete transformation, aggression spiked, and reason was lost.
Patients who had reached the final stage of mutation were put down by the Hunters themselves. To allow them to remain human in their final moments— before they became monsters that would endanger civilians. But since most Hunters hesitated to take a life…
Creak. The door opened. Yoon Ga-eul extended the towel she had been holding.
“H-here’s a towel.”
“…Ah, thank you.”
The responsibility often fell on Jung Bin and Lee Sa-young. Jung Bin volunteered out of duty, while Lee Sa-young was chosen for his ability to handle the task cleanly and without a trace.
It seemed that Jung Bin had been today’s executioner. He took the towel from Yoon Ga-eul and wiped away the white blood splattered on his suit. His usual warm and easygoing expression was nowhere to be seen. He was always the one with a friendly smile, yet now his face looked unfamiliar. After a short sigh, he forced a smile at her. A stiff one.
“I’ll handle incinerating the towel. You should get back to work.”
“A-ah, okay…”
He turned away and walked off. Step, step, step. His footsteps faded into the distance.
Yoon Ga-eul glanced through the slightly open door. The floor was soaked in a translucent white fluid. Deeper inside, a figure lay face down, motionless.
“…”
Yoon Ga-eul shut her eyes tightly and whipped her head away. Then, she hurried off, putting as much distance as she could between herself and the door. By the time she arrived at the ruined library, the atmosphere was unusually tense. More chaotic than usual. Hunters were changing the bandages on their wounds, clutching weapons as they rushed outside. Something had happened.
As Yoon Ga-eul scanned her surroundings, someone grabbed her. It was one of the librarians.
“Ah, found you! Ga-eul-ssi! What was your high school again? And your home?”
“…Huh? High school?”
“Hey! Don’t say it! …Don’t mind it, Ga-eul-ssi.”
“Oh? Ah, right. Yeah, just ignore that! It just slipped out.”
The librarians walked away awkwardly. All around her, murmurs spread. A rift opened. The whitening is progressing. I thought the monster wave was over. Yeah, same. What do we do? They probably didn’t even have time to evacuate. We should check it out… Do you think there are any survivors?
Yoon Ga-eul clutched her chest. A restless, anxious feeling churned inside her. She already knew what was coming next. She had seen it all— fragments of a dream.
Why did it have to happen now?
The thought crossed her mind for only a second. But she had no time to dwell on it. She had a role to play. And she had to move.
***
Cha Eui-jae moved his arms and legs. They moved swiftly and lightly. Finally, his body felt ready for action. After the sudden news of a monster wave, his body had surprisingly returned to its full state. The reason was obvious. Either his sense of duty to save people outweighed the fear of death, or it was the system’s way of ensuring he fulfilled his role.
‘Well… my eyes are still useless, though.’
He checked the red numbers floating in his darkened vision.
[00:01:03]
Time left until death.
But unlike before, it wasn’t so painful that he couldn’t move. Maybe it was thanks to his Poker Face trait. Or perhaps…
Cha Eui-jae turned his head slightly. He could hear the rustling sounds of Lee Sa-young nearby. He cautiously asked,
“…Are you really going to stay here?”
“Or what? You think I lied?”
Lee Sa-young answered indifferently. Cha Eui-jae pursed his lips and opened his hand. Soft ash brushed against his palm and fingers. The words Lee Sa-young had whispered before played in his mind, one after another.
“Die in front of me.”
“Don’t think about dying alone.”
“Being alone is lonely…”
Cha Eui-jae clenched his fist tightly. His nails dug sharply into his palm. The wound from wiping away Lee Sa-young’s tears had completely healed the moment his abilities returned.
Sa-young-ah, I won’t be lonely…
But what about you?
The you that will be left behind?
Cha Eui-jae knew what Lee Sa-young would be like after Cha Eui-jae disappeared. He knew the Lee Sa-young who locked himself in a dark room. The Lee Sa-young who foolishly waited and waited. Cha Eui-jae spoke softly.
“…You’re not supposed to do anything.”
“I know.”
“You just have to watch. You can’t interfere.”
“I said I know.”
“…”
“I’m prepared.”
What kind of expression was Lee Sa-young making right now? Cha Eui-jae suddenly felt curious. He beckoned with his hand, and he could hear Lee Sa-young obediently approaching. He was now right in front of him. Cha Eui-jae reached out toward his face but was met with something hard and cold instead of soft skin.
“…”
He felt around Lee Sa-young’s messy hair and found the fastening strap of his gas mask. With a small click, the lock released, and the mask fell away with a soft thud. Cha Eui-jae reached out again, running his fingers over his features. A sharp jawline, full lips, smooth cheeks. When his fingers brushed upward, long eyelashes tickled his fingertips. Lee Sa-young deliberately blinked, making them flutter against Cha Eui-jae’s touch.
Then, Lee Sa-young took Cha Eui-jae’s hand, pressing his cheek against the palm. A small vibration and warm breath brushed against his skin as Lee Sa-young spoke.
“…Now do you get it?”
“Get what?”
“How I felt.”
“…”
Ah.
Cha Eui-jae let out a breath, almost like a scoff. A small chuckle let out between his fingers. Cha Eui-jae lifted his mask slightly, pushing it to the side. A cold breeze brushed against his nose and lips.
And then, warmth approached, cutting through the cold wind. Something soft pressed against his lips. Cha Eui-jae, as if expecting it, parted his lips. A wet, supple tongue slipped inside. When their tongues tangled, his body flinched involuntarily. A sweet taste spread through his mouth. It had been so long since he had tasted the sweetness.
Lee Sa-young’s thick tongue swirled inside for a while before finally retreating. Cha Eui-jae let out a deep breath and wiped his damp lips. His neck and ears were burning. He rubbed his ear and spoke bluntly.
“…He wasn’t this shameless.”
“Humans grow, you know.”
Lee Sa-young teased.
“You’re not going to leave with that bright red face, are you?”
“Shut up.”
Cha Eui-jae readjusted his mask. In the distance, he could sense monsters approaching. One, two, ten, twenty, a hundred… Their numbers only increased. The time had come. Cha Eui-jae summoned a spear from his inventory. The weight of it awakened his instincts.
Fight.
Fight!
J slowly blinked. Then, he grabbed Lee Sa-young by the nape and pulled him close. Pressing his mask lightly against Lee Sa-young’s cheek, he whispered,
“I’m going.”
“…”
The head held in his grip gave a slow nod. J let out a quiet chuckle.
“This time…”
“…”
“I’ll be the one waiting.”
A gloved hand covered J’s. A small murmur answered,
“…I’ll be right behind you.”
The monsters’ roars split the sky. J stroked Lee Sa-young’s hair once before stepping onto the railing, balancing himself. The wind brushed past his body. His hair and the ashes scattered. J took a deep breath.
And then,
Whoosh—
He threw himself toward the source of the monsters’ presence.
***
Yoon Ga-eul ran away.
“I’ll hold them off here, so run first.”
Just as he told her to.
“I’ll finish this quickly and come back. Trust me.”
Leaving him behind, alone.
“When I give the signal, don’t look back and run.”
Just as the Yoon Ga-eul of this world had done.
But Yoon Ga-eul hadn’t truly escaped. As she ran toward the Seowon Guild, she turned back, retracing her steps to where she had left him. The place, once overrun with monsters, was now shrouded in silence. Yoon Ga-eul pushed through the mound of monster corpses, forging her way forward. And then, her footsteps halted. There, in the midst of the carnage—
“…Hunter Lee Sa-young?”
Lee Sa-young was kneeling on the ground. The hem of his black coat was soaked in white blood. Beyond his still figure, she saw the legs of someone cradled in his arms. Instinctively, Yoon Ga-eul understood.
‘It’s J.’
She moved forward, but something stopped her in her tracks. She listened carefully. Only two sets of breaths, only two heartbeats. There should have been three.
‘…Ah.’
She realized.
J was dead. Just as fate had decreed.
And yet.
“…”
Nothing had changed. Not the suffocating silence. Not the blood-soaked ground, wet with the monsters’ white blood. Not the thick stench of iron in the air. Slowly, Yoon Ga-eul opened her eyes. J’s lifeless body, Lee Sa-young holding him, the mountain of monsters— all of it remained.
“Why…”
Yoon Ga-eul glanced at the towering pile of corpses. It stretched so high that it touched the sky. At the summit, a white hole swirled endlessly.
Nothing had changed.
Even though the hero was dead.
She whispered, as if pleading,
“Why… hasn’t the world disappeared?”
“…”
A cold voice answered.
“This place was reconstructed based on everyone’s memories.”
“Then…”
“Even if J dies, the world continues.”
Even if the hero dies, the world does not vanish. The survivors continue to live. Until the end of the world swallows them whole. With a trembling voice, Yoon Ga-eul asked,
“Then… does that mean we have to stay here?”
“…”
“Until… we all die?”
Lee Sa-young did not answer.
That silence was his answer.
