The Hunter’s Gonna Lay Low

Chapter 131

As soon as Sayoung regained his senses, the first thing he did was swear, grabbing his head in pain. His face was still pale, clearly suffering from a lingering headache.

“…Where is this? Why…?”

“…Well, that’s the thing.” 

Uijae hesitated, trying to explain. Sayoung, meanwhile, glanced down at the apron he was wearing, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger. The light blue apron with a toad on it looked rather pathetic.

“What’s with this apron?”

Uijae didn’t know either, so he just shifted his eyes awkwardly, hands clasped behind his back.

“…I have no idea.”

“…Sigh.”

Leaning against the sink with his arms and forehead, Sayoung let out a long sigh. Uijae cautiously approached and crouched beside him. A grumpy voice broke the silence.

“Go away.”

“No.”

“…You’re annoying.”

Uijae leaned back against the white bathtub and glanced at Sayoung. Fortunately, there were no further complaints. As he listened to Sayoung’s slow, measured breaths, Uijae began to think.

‘When Yun Gaeul’s soul was transferred, they said she collapsed like she had fainted.’

If that was the case, did the real-world bodies of Cha Uijae and Lee Sayoung also collapse somewhere, as if they had fainted? His mouth went dry at the thought. What if, just before being dragged here, Sayoung had entered a dungeon? That could be disastrous.

‘Damn system, pulling people in like this with no warning.’

Wiggling his toes, Uijae cautiously asked, 

“Were you doing anything before this?”

“…What was I doing?”

Sayoung tilted his head slightly, giving Uijae a sidelong glance as he twisted his lips.

“I was in a meeting… with the guild members.”

‘Damn it.’

“We were discussing the erosion dungeon, having a very important conversation.”

Uijae bowed his head in silence. In some ways, this was worse than being in a dungeon. No wonder Sayoung had immediately asked what kind of mess Uijae had gotten them into! One moment he was in a spacious meeting room, looking at his guild members' faces, and the next, he was crammed into a tiny bathroom face-to-face with Cha Uijae. No wonder he was pissed.

Sayoung leaned back and muttered to himself, his hand covering his face.

“…Are you okay?”

“Hm?”

“I asked if you’re okay, hyung.”

“Me? Yeah. I’m fine.”

Maybe because the Cha Uijae in his memory had awakened, his body didn’t feel much different from reality. But what about Sayoung? He was still sweating. Uijae brushed a hand through Sayoung’s hair.

“What about you? Are you okay? Anything hurting?”

“I’ve got a headache, but… it’ll pass soon.”

Sayoung lightly moved his hand away, opening his violet eyes in a thin slit.

“What is this place?”

“……”

“Why are you here, how did we get here, and why am I dragged into this?”

“……”

“Explain. Now.”

The sweet, lazy atmosphere that had filled the house was long gone, replaced by an ominous tension. Uijae had expected this, ever since Sayoung’s eyes turned violet. But it was an unavoidable conversation.

“…It’s a long story, so listen carefully.”

He explained that this place was a *Memorial Dungeon*, a dungeon created from someone’s memories, but they didn’t know how to clear it. It was also located in some part of the destroyed world, and they had been pulled here with their souls. He himself had rushed to save Yun Gaeul, which meant his real body was probably lying in the middle of the soup restaurant, still wearing the J mask, while Sayoung’s body had likely collapsed in the middle of a meeting room.

Sayoung’s expression remained unchanged throughout Uijae’s summary. It was an expression that could only be described as a murderous glare, as if he wanted to devour Cha Uijae whole.

After finishing his brief explanation, Uijae asked, “Any questions so far?”

“…Any questions?” 

Sayoung scoffed darkly, muttering under his breath, 

“I have too many.”

This was bad. Uijae quickly drew a line.

“To be honest, I don’t know much myself. I just woke up not too long ago.”

“Oh really… Then let me ask just one thing.”

“……”

“Are you completely insane?”

‘Damn it.’

Uijae couldn’t really argue with that, so he just pouted silently. Maybe the light from that fragment really had bewitched him. Sayoung leaned against the sink, pressing his temple as he muttered.

“So you’re saying I’m probably lying passed out in the soup restaurant. Wearing the mask. And I’ve collapsed too.”

“…Yeah.”

“…Well, at least Min-gi will handle it.”

“What? How?”

“I told him that if anything happened to me, he should check on you first.”

“Me? Shouldn’t he take care of you first?”

“Who knows?”

Sayoung twisted his lips and slowly stood up, using the sink for support. The soju-branded apron flapped as he moved. Why had that apron followed them here? It should’ve stayed hanging on the restaurant wall. Sayoung looked down at Uijae, who was still crouched against the bathtub.

“Get up.”

“Hm?”

“Weren’t you in the middle of cooking?”

“Well, yeah, but… shouldn’t we check how to clear the dungeon first?”

At that moment, a loud growl echoed through the bathroom. It came from Uijae’s stomach. He grimaced.

‘Damn it, when did I start feeling hunger so regularly?’

Sayoung smirked and lifted his chin mockingly.

“Someone seems really hungry.”

“……”

“Let’s talk over food.”

Sayoung stepped aside as if telling him to go ahead. Feeling embarrassed, Uijae rubbed the back of his neck and walked into the hallway. After a few steps, Sayoung followed.

But then the sound of footsteps stopped. Curious, Uijae turned around and saw Sayoung standing still, staring blankly at a photo of the sea hanging in the hallway. He looked like a picture himself.

And not in a good way. It was like…

Like he was a person trapped in a frame.

“…Lee Sayoung.”

Uijae called out suddenly. Sayoung slowly turned his gaze toward Uijae. His face was as indifferent and lazy as ever. He shrugged.

“What are you doing? Let’s go.”

“……”

“Aren’t you hungry?”

Sayoung motioned for Uijae to move along with a tilt of his chin. Uijae reluctantly turned his feet toward the kitchen.

The kitchen, once tidy, was now a complete mess. The bread had popped out of the toaster, half-burnt, the omelet was half-cooked and lukewarm, and the table held two empty plates. And the spatula Sayoung had used…

“…A ladle?”

It had turned into a ladle. And not just any ladle, but a dented one. Sayoung, hands behind his back, casually tilted his head as he looked around the kitchen.

“That seems to match the apron.”

“……”

“Should I take it off for you?”

“No… it’s fine.”

Uijae turned on the sink and washed his hands clean. The burnt bread could be toasted again, and the half-rolled omelet could be finished from where it left off. Even if something is interrupted halfway, there’s always a way to continue it.

Sayoung, still glancing around the house, turned on an old radio by the sofa in the living room. The sound of static filled the air, followed by soft music. It was an unfamiliar tune, but still pleasant.

After placing two new slices of bread into the toaster, Uijae called out to Sayoung, who had his back turned.

“Lee Sayoung, come finish the omelet.”

“I don’t know how to make an omelet.”

His nonchalant reply made Uijae roll his eyes. That’s right—the skilled Sayoung who could make an omelet was from the memories within this dungeon. And likewise, the Cha Uijae in those memories wasn’t someone who couldn’t cook.

Well, they could only do what they could, in their own ways. Uijae turned on the induction stove and grabbed the frying pan. Hearing the sound, Sayoung half-turned.

“Then I’ll do this. When the toast pops out, take it for me.”

“…There aren’t any gloves.”

“What?”

“Do you have tongs?”

“……”

“We don’t want any poison getting on me.”

Uijae’s mouth hung open as he stared at Sayoung. He still stood there, hands behind his back, as if his hands were some kind of weapon. Even in this peaceful, safe memory world.

Suddenly, something swelled up in Uijae’s chest. He set the frying pan down and strode over to Sayoung. Sayoung, wide-eyed, stepped back, but Uijae was quicker. He grabbed Sayoung’s hands from behind his back, and Sayoung frowned deeply.

“What are you doing?”

“Hold still.”

Sayoung’s hands, which hadn’t been touched by poison, were straight and large, and most importantly, unblemished. Clean, without a trace of the black stains that might have been there. These were the hands he could have had if Uijae had been by his side. The hands he should have had.

It had been eight years since the promise. He knew that no amount of regret would change anything. He didn’t regret going into the West Sea Rift to save people. But when he thought

 of Sayoung, who had gone through everything alone, still keeping their promise…

Cha Uijae bit down hard on one of Sayoung’s spotless fingers. Sayoung inhaled sharply, his free hand hovering near Uijae’s shoulder, as if wanting to push him away.

“What the hell…!”

But Uijae didn’t stop, biting down harder. Not enough to sever the finger, but just enough to leave a mark.

The metallic taste of blood quickly filled his mouth as he heard a faint crunch. He licked the blood from his lips, glaring up at Sayoung with fiery eyes.

“Stop talking nonsense.”