The Hunter’s Gonna Lay Low

Chapter 295

"They came to get me."

It took quite some time for Uijae to understand the meaning of those words. He murmured them under his breath, repeating what he had just heard. "They came to get me. They came to get me..." The figure beyond the coat waited patiently. Finally, Uijae comprehended the statement. He asked,

"Why?"

"Because we need you."

He quickly grasped the meaning of need. A monster must have appeared. Accepting the situation, Uijae groped at the ground. No spear. Then he remembered. Right, it’s gone. Did he have a sword? The basilisk's fang—he had driven it into the snake’s head.

It’s fine. Fists will do. He could still fight.

The large hand covering his own broke his thoughts.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking for a weapon."

"Why?"

"You said you needed me."

The hand pressed harder against the back of his own. Was that not it? His mind remained dull. But if they needed him, this could only be the reason. Uijae glanced at the gas mask for a clue.

"...Isn't it?"

"It’s not."

"Then what is it?"

A sigh came from beyond the coat. Uijae closed his eyes. That kind of sigh—he was familiar with it. He could guess what would follow. Is that what you call a hero? Acting all noble alone, making us look like fools. I shouldn’t have trusted you. First rank? What a disappointment...

But the person sighing didn’t say anything else. Instead, they patted the back of his hand.

"We don’t need a weapon."

Not needed.

It felt like his heart sank into his stomach. He already knew, but hearing it aloud was different. Uijae nodded faintly.

"...Makes sense."

Why would anyone need someone who couldn’t even handle the responsibility he was given? Uijae resigned himself to the thought. All of this was probably a dream or a hallucination. It had to be. That was the only way he could endure the unknown amount of time left. He couldn’t afford to grow accustomed to the voices or warmth of others.

Because when the illusion disappeared, silence would settle in, and he would be left alone.

Scraping at the bloodstained floor, Uijae tried to pull his hand away. But the hand covering his followed, maintaining its warm, steady weight. It almost felt as though it was telling him this wasn’t a dream.

"..."

A lethargic voice broke the silence.

"Where are you going?"

"Nowhere."

"Why not?"

"I need to stay here."

"Why?"

"There’s no way out."

"If there’s no way, then find one. Don’t just sit here."

"I have to stay with these people."

The black fabric obscured his view of the others. The bodies of the dead were out of sight. He needed to see them. Uijae reached out to move the cloth, but something—perhaps a hand—pressed firmly against the top of his head.

"'People,' you say?"

"..."

"Well, they don’t look much like people to me."

Whoever this person was, they had a knack for stating facts. And they were right. They were all dead. All that was left were blood, bones, scraps of unidentifiable flesh, and severed limbs. With his head still pinned, Uijae answered,

"They were people."

"Hmm… past tense, I see. How did it end up like this?"

"They all died. Because of me."

"Why?"

"Because I wasn’t here."

A displeased sigh followed. Uijae braced himself for the inevitable criticisms, but they didn’t come. Instead, another question.

"Ah, I see. So, were they incapable of fighting? Wounded, maybe?"

"They could fight well enough."

"Then… was it their lack of skill?"

Even with his head pressed down, Uijae shook it. If only he had returned a little sooner. If only he had stayed to guard the camp. If only he had never left in the first place. He had thought about it countless times—while driving spears through monsters, slashing with his sword, or smashing them with his fists. Always, the conclusion was the same. Regret.

"They were people I could have saved."

"If you put it that way, there’s no end to it. Are you planning to save everyone in the world? And every time you fail, are you going to sit like this beside them?"

"..."

"Do you really think that’s possible?"

"I know it’s not."

"Then why are you doing this?"

"Because this was my fault."

"Ah… I see. Nonsense. Let’s talk about something else."

The hand pressing down on his head lifted. Something else. It seemed they wanted to keep talking.

Uijae remained with his head bowed, resting his cheek against his raised knee. It was ridiculous. He had thought he’d gotten used to being alone. Yet a brief conversation with a stranger had somehow lifted his spirits. For some reason, he felt... light.

Someone asked.

"How long have you been here?"

"I don’t know."

"You haven’t been keeping track of the days?"

Uijae folded his fingers, trying to recall.

"...I counted up to a year. After that…"

"Alright, not great. Let’s talk about something else."

The rapid topic changes were welcome. It gave him more to think about, and for that time, he could forget the pain. The voice asked again.

"Do you like anything?"

"Like anything?"

"Yeah… like rolled omelets, kids, hangover soup, stuff like that."

"..."

The examples were random. Rolled omelets and kids were one thing, but hangover soup? Why mention that? Uijae thought deeply. His aunt came to mind first. But he couldn’t dare to speak of her in the place where she had died. He felt like he’d cry if he kept thinking about it, so he gave a strange answer instead.

"Um… cigarettes?"

"..."

The voice went silent. That wasn’t the right answer, apparently. Of course not. It probably made him sound like a chain-smoker. Not wanting to dwell on it, Uijae added hastily,

"I haven’t smoked in a while."

"Figures. …When was the last time?"

"Before I came in here."

"When did you start?"

"As soon as I became an adult."

"How old are you now?"

"Twenty."

"Wow, such a rebel."

"And how old are you?"

"I’m definitely older than you."

"Not by much, I bet."

"Let’s just say we’re close in age. Moving on."

He’s dodging the question because he’s losing, isn’t he? Uijae let out a small laugh. There was a rustling sound behind him. Something broad touched his back. It seemed the other person had sat down, back-to-back with him. The unfamiliar warmth made Uijae’s fingertips flinch slightly. From behind him, the voice whispered,

"Now then… let’s talk about this."

"..."

"Have you saved anyone?"

The life of a hero was a series of failures. A life spent taking lives instead of saving them. Some people had told him, "Because of you, the damage was lessened. You saved lives." But J—Cha Uijae—wanted to save people with his own hands. Instead of the sensation of life fading away, he wanted to feel life continuing.

The soft pull of a tiny heartbeat.

The heartbeat of the stranger pressed against his back melted into his own. It had been a long time since he’d heard another person’s heartbeat. Uijae listened to the proof of life and answered.

"Yes."

"What kind of person?"

Uijae leaned his weight slightly against the back pressed to his.

"...A kid. His whole body had melted because of poison. He couldn’t see, couldn’t speak because his vocal cords were damaged."

"That sounds severe."

"At first, I wondered if keeping him alive was the right thing to do. It felt selfish of me."

"..."

"I thought… maybe letting him go painlessly would’ve been better. Maybe he wanted to die."

The boy couldn’t sleep without painkillers. Every time they changed his bandages, he screamed hoarsely and thrashed. When they cleaned his melted flesh, they had to gag him because he clenched his teeth so hard he might have broken them.

The voice asked,

"Do you regret it?"

Please save me. The boy had mouthed the words, unable to speak. But maybe he hadn’t been asking to be saved. Maybe it was just the desperate movements of someone trying to breathe, and Uijae had mistaken it for a plea.

Even so.

"...No."

Cha Uijae didn’t regret it. Call him selfish if they wanted. This was the one thing he couldn’t give up. His voice was firm as he answered.

"That kid is my only success."

"..."

"There’s no way I could regret that."

A low laugh came from behind him. The back pressed against his shook with soft chuckles. It felt strange. It had been so long since he’d heard someone laugh. Gradually, the laughter subsided.

A voice tinged with amusement asked,

"So… you’re going to keep saving people?"

"Yes."

"Even if this happens again?"

Uijae pulled back the black cloth that had been shielding his view. Blood and bones he didn’t want to see came into focus. The people he hadn’t been able to save. Uijae took in the sight he had seen countless times before and replied,

"I will."

"Why?"

Uijae slowly closed his eyes and opened them again.

"Because…"

"..."

"I like saving people."

"..."

"I’ll keep doing it. As long as my one success remains."

A sigh came from behind him. But he wasn’t afraid of sighs anymore. He knew the person behind him wouldn’t doubt him. The warmth pressed against his back disappeared. They were standing up.

"...Alright."

The voice, light with a smile, spoke above him.

"That’s the Uijae I know."

With a swish, the black cloth covering his vision vanished. White light filled his sight for a moment before it turned red. Uijae didn’t avoid the pool of blood. Instead, he stared at it. Someone stood right behind him.

"Then… see you later, hyung. Next time…"

A black hand rested on his shoulder. A finger brushed his ear, tickling slightly, before retreating. A gentle whisper brushed past him.

"You come find me first, like you used to."

Uijae turned his head sharply. But the person had already disappeared, leaving no trace. Just like before. Uijae stared blankly at the empty space. Alone again.

But this time, he wasn’t lonely.