The Hunter’s Gonna Lay Low

Chapter 282

"...Hyung!"

Sa-young forced his unresponsive legs to move. He couldn't let him go—not like this. He had to stop him. He couldn’t believe the promise to come back. His mind swirled with countless thoughts as he chased after the disappearing figure, stomping over the scattered books on the floor. His body wavered.

Sa-young was certain—if there was anyone who knew Cha Uijae better than anyone, it was him.

Thud. His shoulder collided with a bookshelf, sending books tumbling down. Sa-young didn’t care and pressed on. His damp eyes blurred his vision.

But what about the hero?

There were many who claimed to know the hero. J’s stories were countless. A hero who saved countless lives and brought stability. A hero who faced countless monsters and left behind records. A selfless hero who leapt into the Rift in the West Sea without hesitation. A hero who returned like a miracle when everyone thought he was dead. A hero who was the first to enter the battlefield and the last to leave it.

But people didn’t know Cha Uijae.

"Hyung!"

And neither did Sa-young.

"J!"

To him, J wasn’t a hero. J was the one whose voice he heard, whose hand he held, and who saved his life—a singular, irreplaceable existence.

"Stop right there!"

To Sa-young, Cha Uijae was just a fool. A lovable, endearing fool.

That was Sa-young’s arrogance.

He didn’t know the hero. He didn’t know the face behind the hero’s mask.

Behind the mask weren’t the ears that flushed easily, the eyes that would shyly avert their gaze, the sharp look when irritated, the lips reddened from biting, the fidgeting mouth, the annoyed expressions, the heated, sharp-angled cheeks, or the face that smiled warmly.

"Wait, Hyung!"

Now, there was only a face devoid of emotion. A face that was unfamiliar yet eerily familiar. A hero who mechanically fulfilled his duties.

Sa-young shoved aside the people in his way, ignoring their screams. No matter how fast he ran, the identical bookshelves stretched endlessly. He couldn’t catch up to Cha Uijae, trapped in what felt like an infinite maze.

Where had the Cha Uijae gone who used to recklessly rampage? Where was the Cha Uijae who smiled tenderly at Haeun? The one who casually looked after regulars? The one who wept over his comrades’ remains? The one whose ears turned red and body stiffened every time they kissed?

All those thoughts dissolved one by one, leaving only an endless question.

Sa-young wanted to know. He wanted to know the hero.

He gritted his teeth.

What are you thinking?
Why are you so uneasy?
What are you so afraid of?
What has made you like this?

Sa-young needed answers. He wanted to know everything about Uijae. He wanted to dive into his mind, dig up the deepest roots of his being, and become entangled like a beast licking his wounds.

He wanted to be the one person who knew everything about him.

...Damn it!

But he couldn’t. Even digging through the intruder’s merged memories yielded nothing but the face of a fool smiling while reassuring everyone he was fine, never once admitting his struggles.

Whatever thoughts and emotions lay behind that mask of stoicism were locked deep within, just as Sa-young kept his own secrets.

"Damn it!"

Finally, the end of the bookshelves came into view. Sa-young emerged from the labyrinthine maze into a wide hall bustling with people. But no matter how hard he looked, Cha Uijae was nowhere to be seen. Even grabbing passersby yielded no answers.

Sa-young took a deep breath.

"...So that’s how you want to play it."

His violet eyes gleamed fiercely.

"Let’s see what you’ve got."

86 hours until Cha Uijae’s death.

Thunk!

A massive spear pierced the chest of a monster. Splatter. White blood sprayed onto the black mask in scattered droplets. The death was silent, devoid of screams. Only stillness remained.

Uijae slowly raised his head, scanning his surroundings. No trace of any more monsters nearby. It seemed he’d cleared them all. Retrieving his spear, he leapt lightly off the mountain of corpses. Squelch. The wet sound suggested he’d landed in a puddle of blood.

"......"

The cold wind brushed his hair. Uijae rubbed the mask with his sleeve, cleaning it. At the same time, he coughed—a dry, hacking sound that went on for a while. He rubbed his scratchy throat. Thanks to his heightened senses, he could feel every small change in his body. It was changing—slowly but surely.

86 hours…

Three days and some hours. Uijae stared at the numbers intently. Even his Poker Face (B) trait couldn’t fully mask the lingering unease. This version of himself, in this world, understood death.

And now, so did Cha Uijae. He understood why he hadn’t avoided death.

Mutations primarily occurred in those exposed to Whitening. Civilians were more prone than Awakeners.

And Cha Uijae, at times, lost his powers and became a civilian.

"......"

Mutation had exploited those brief intervals, likely progressing incrementally during each powerless period. It had gone unnoticed because the duration was relatively short. Uijae clenched and unclenched his fists.

I guess he’d rather die than become a monster.

As fear and dread deepened, buried memories surfaced one by one. Uijae let them come, resisting nothing. Resistance wouldn’t change anything now.

When J realized his death was imminent, he went to Nam Woo-jin and Jeong Bin, demanding more responsibilities. They opposed him, but J wouldn’t relent.

"We’re short on manpower. How long do you expect me to stay idle?"
"But…"
"It’s fine. I know my body best. I’ll manage."

After much deliberation, Jeong Bin reluctantly agreed. It was an obvious choice—J’s involvement saved countless resources. Nam Woo-jin grumbled to the end but eventually conceded.

From that moment, J threw himself into every mission—dungeons, rifts, even restricted Whitening zones. He didn’t hold back, going wherever his strength was needed. He didn’t sleep.

Anyone else would have called it madness, but Uijae understood.

It was desperation. A fight to leave his mark, to avoid being forgotten.

A struggle to remain a hero until the very end.

Yet, as Uijae followed J’s memories, a thought crossed his mind.

At the very end… wouldn’t it be better to be with someone you love?

He pushed the thought away. When he’d plunged the blade into himself, Sa-young’s face had flashed before him. At that moment, Sa-young had looked…

Uijae rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

Yeah, I get why I wouldn’t want to show him that.

Understanding himself was a novel experience. He flicked the blood off his spear. Though his time was limited, he wasn’t as drained as he’d once been.

"Alright…"

For now, Uijae checked the screen. The countdown continued, but synchronization remained at 100%. If the body died in this synchronized state, Cha Uijae’s soul would die too.

How do I fix this?

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. How could he reduce synchronization? Should he try splitting his consciousness? But how?

Just as he pondered this, a loud vroom broke the silence. Something sped toward him from a distance. Uijae looked up. This was a restricted area—what could it be? His limited vision prevented him from identifying the source. Narrowing his eyes, he focused on the sound. And then—

"...Shit."

He spotted violet flames hurtling straight toward him.

Quickly grabbing his spear, Uijae leapt to his feet. Panic sharpened his thoughts.

Isn’t that guy unlicensed? Didn’t he always hitch rides with others? What the hell is he driving?

But there was no time to dwell on it.

For now…

Uijae kicked off the ground.

I need to run!!