The Hunter’s Gonna Lay Low - Chap 305
Nam Woo-jin rubbed his chin and scanned Cha Eui-jae up and down.
“You hid yourself well. Even Director Ham never would’ve guessed that the former Rank 1 Hunter who’s thought to be dead was out there, taking care of an old lady in some rundown restaurant.”
Cha Eui-jae responded flatly.
“…Please keep it a secret. I have no intention of revealing my face.”
Nam Woo-jin scoffed.
“Hah. Not that I have anyone to tell. But still… I was wondering why Lee Sa-young dragged a civilian along.”
He examined Cha Eui-jae with newfound interest.
“Did that guy know who you were? Is that why he kept you around?”
“No… I don’t think he knew when I first got there.”
Back then, Lee Sa-young had been especially rude. Threatening people, using them for his own gain. Thinking about it now, it was almost laughable. These days, Lee Sa-young was the complete opposite— desperate to help him with anything.
Damn it. Cha Eui-jae bit the inside of his cheek. Meanwhile, Nam Woo-jin frowned and asked,
“So he didn’t know, and yet he went out of his way to bring you to me? With that personality?”
“…We made a deal.”
“Him? Making deals? Well, that’s new information.”
Nam Woo-jin muttered under his breath and turned away. Cha Eui-jae opened his palm. A faint golden shimmer traced the scarred chain mark that remained. It had been more of a threat than a deal, and he had nearly died from poison during the process…
But looking back, it had been the right choice.
‘I never thought I’d confirm he was alive through this…’
Lee Sa-young was alive. As long as the contract’s mark remained, he was still breathing. That was enough comfort for now. Cha Eui-jae smoothed down his hair, still frizzed from static electricity, and asked,
“What about Seo Min-gi-ssi? Is he okay?”
“That’s the first thing you ask? …Well, he’s alive. Hasn’t woken up yet, though. He’ll need some time to recover. He’ll probably have some scars, too.”
Ah, thank god. Cha Eui-jae let out a small sigh of relief. Scars didn’t matter. As long as he was alive. He ran a hand over his forehead. His own wounds were completely healed. Nam Woo-jin clicked his tongue.
“You used your head to block an attack? What the hell were you thinking?”
“…”
“And don’t give me that ‘as long as I survived’ look! Or that ‘it’s fine, just one hit’ look either! A normal hunter’s skull would’ve been crushed. You overpowered freaks never know when to value your own damn lives!”
Nam Woo-jin jabbed a finger at him and scolded him fiercely. Cha Eui-jae pursed his lips and sat up straight. It was an unconscious reaction. His body still remembered getting chewed out in the Memorial Dungeon.
Nam Woo-jin adjusted his glasses and rubbed his temples. His face looked healthier than before, but his hands were still frighteningly thin, just like they’d been in that fragmented memory.
“Seriously… every single one of you… I’m already drowning in work, and now I have to worry about you idiots getting yourselves killed!”
“…Yes, sir.”
“Saying ‘yes’ isn’t enough! You’re just going to do it again!”
Nam Woo-jin rolled up his sleeves and placed a hand on Cha Eui-jae’s forehead. A soft glow enveloped the spot.
“Any pain? Dizziness? Nausea? Double vision?”
“I felt all of that before passing out, but… hmm, I think I’m fine now.”
“Oh, so you fought while feeling like that? Not knowing your own limits?”
“…”
Cha Eui-jae missed the days when they used honorifics with each other, when there was still some distance and formality between them. But after Nam Woo-jin attended J’s Memorial Dungeon Special Lecture, he gradually started dropping his formal speech. Complaining about it now felt pointless… Especially since Cha Eui-jae had spent years throwing his age around as a weapon, bossing people around like a true old-fashioned nag.
In the end, this was just karma. He had no choice but to endure getting scolded by the terrifying doctor.
After a moment, Nam Woo-jin withdrew his hand. The assistant behind him immediately began writing something on a chart. Cha Eui-jae rubbed his forehead.
“Who brought me here?”
“That Mackerel guy. Said he found you collapsed on the ground. Kept making a fuss about how you hit your head and might have brain damage. Never shut up about it.”
Hah. Cha Eui-jae let out an awkward chuckle. He’d have to thank him later. If not for him, he might’ve woken up face-down in the dirt.
“Is the fish market okay?”
“Didn’t hear anything bad, so I assume it is. These days, no news is good news.”
At last, some of the tension drained from his body. Cha Eui-jae exhaled and ran a hand down his face. Good. The whitening of the fish market had been prevented, and Mackerel’s mutation had been stopped. Though Seo Min-gi had been injured…
“Where’s my mask?”
“Took it off for treatment. It’s on the desk. Do you even realize how much blood was on it? It was soaked, inside and out. Looked like something straight out of a horror movie.”
That explains why it felt so damp. Cha Eui-jae somehow managed to hold his tongue. If he voiced that thought out loud, Nam Woo-jin’s nagging would probably increase fivefold. Instead, he gave a polite bow.
“Thank you for treating me.”
“If you’re really grateful, take better care of yourself.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Don’t just say it—”
Just as Nam Woo-jin was about to launch into another long-winded lecture, his assistant tactfully interrupted.
“Master, it’s time for the new drug trial.”
“…Already? Damn. Alright. And you, wrecking ball, grab your mask and go. It’s on the desk in the room you were waiting in last time. If anything feels off, come find me.”
Nam Woo-jin waved a hand dismissively and left. The assistant handed Cha Eui-jae a card key and a disposable mask.
“Here. A temporary access pass and a mask. The door will be locked, but you can use this to get in.”
“Ah, thanks.”
“I believe you’ll be able to avoid unnecessary encounters. Then…”
“Wait, where’s Seo Min-gi-ssi?”
“He’s in the emergency recovery ward. It’s a medical-only zone, so visitors aren’t allowed. We’ll inform you when he’s well enough for visits.”
The assistant bowed politely and followed after his master. Cha Eui-jae stretched his stiff neck, rolling it from side to side. That room… it had to be where the notebook was.
“Might as well check it while I’m there.”
There could be new entries. His steps quickened.
***
A distant sound of sobbing could be heard.
Honeybee, dressed in black, blankly stared out the window. Outside, a group of people had gathered in a circle, and at the center, a high-stacked pyre burned. Yoon Ga-eul sniffled, rubbing her eyes repeatedly with her sleeve. She rubbed so much that the skin around her eyes had turned red and raw.
Lee Sa-young twirled a pen in his fingers and murmured,
“…You shouldn’t get too caught up in the remnants of memories.”
“I know.”
“You don’t look like you do.”
“…”
Honeybee shut her mouth without responding. Lee Sa-young didn’t push further and turned his head away. There was no point in making things worse for both of them. Besides, he wasn’t good at comforting people.
Sniffling, Yoon Ga-eul asked,
“…Do you think they’re doing well in the original world? That they’re healthy…?”
“…”
No one answered.
Jung Bin was dead.
After his death, the Seowon Guild rapidly lost its vitality. People started thinking of “The End” more easily than before. It became common to see them drained of life, hanging limp like withered flowers. The aftermath was even greater than when Hero J had died. It made sense. J had already lost presence due to his illness, but Jung Bin had been the de facto leader of the survivors. A group without a leader was bound to collapse.
Honeybee stared past the window at the large figure standing still. Matthew was watching the flames, expressionless. He would be the next leader.
Though, it wouldn’t last long.
Honeybee muttered,
“Matthew’s going to die too, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And there’s no way to stop it?”
“Stopping it is just self-satisfaction. Even if you prevent it, nothing really changes.”
“…So we’re just supposed to sit and watch this memory play out? Like fools?”
“Yeah.”
She leaned her temple against the cold glass, her face weary.
“…Feels like being locked in a prison.”
This world was running toward a predetermined end. And all they could do was wait for it to arrive. Even if it meant the end of an entire world.
Leaving the two behind, Lee Sa-young stepped out of the room alone. His destination was Nam Woo-jin’s study. Under the desk lamp, which had been left on, a notebook lay open.
[Jung Bin is dead.]
What a dedicated record-keeper. Lee Sa-young picked up the notebook, flipping through its pages absentmindedly. Past the many blank pages, he finally reached the last entry. His indifferent gaze hardened. His slightly parted lips froze mid-breath. His violet eyes took in the unfamiliar words.
[I miss you.]
It wasn’t Nam Woo-jin’s handwriting. Nor was it his own. The letters, written in pencil, showed an effort to maintain neatness. Though, toward the end, the words became more rushed, slipping into their usual messy scrawl. Lee Sa-young brushed his thumb over the writing, a faint smile breaking through.
“…What an idiot.”
He’d never say it out loud, but he could write it so easily. He pressed his lips lightly against the inked words. After a moment, he pulled away and grabbed the pen rolling nearby.
The pen’s tip moved across the paper, writing steadily.
[Jung Bin died from having his throat torn out while stopping a mutated teammate. Check for any signs of mutation among those around Jung Bin.]
Tapping his chin with the pen cap, Lee Sa-young added,
[Take care of yourself.]
[Don’t overdo it.]
Without hesitation, the pen completed the final sentence.
[I miss you too.]
