The Hunter’s Gonna Lay Low

Chapter 241

“Her sibling?”

“Yes. It was something she mentioned in passing, so I’m not entirely sure…”

Min-jun scratched his head roughly as he replied.

“You know how it was back then. We didn’t have proper equipment, nor enough staff. And even the staff we had were mostly focused on the Awakeners. Anyway, her sibling was injured… and couldn’t receive proper treatment. They died, apparently because the Awakeners had to be prioritized.”

“……”

The sound of her voice, laughing bitterly, echoed in Uijae’s mind.

“You know, J… You were around back then, so you understand, right? Do you remember what happened to civilians when they were caught in the rift? How they lost limbs or were about to die?”

Min-jun sighed deeply, crossing his arms.

“I don’t have the power to tell if someone is lying, but… I believe that part was true. She said it lightly, but her expression…”

Uijae had thought it was just a casual explanation about Lee Sa-young’s background. He hadn’t considered that it could have been her own experience. It had seemed like a fabricated story—no, it was so common that he had predicted the ending as soon as he heard it.

It was a common story. People losing family members, relatives, or loved ones. But… Uijae clenched his fist tightly, feeling a chill run down his spine. A grim sense of foreboding rose within him. What happens when all these common stories come together?

When common people gather, they become the masses.

What if Prometheus had gathered the masses?

Uijae rubbed his temples and bit his lip. A question that had been lingering in his mind surfaced once again. A question he had been avoiding—was aligning with them really the right choice?

---

In a bright room with colorful flooring, low bookshelves, scattered toys, and a mobile gently spinning from the ceiling, Gaeul sat alone.

**Flip, flip.** The pages of a small notebook, no bigger than an adult’s hand, turned quickly. The notebook was well-worn, stained with countless fingerprints. The contents were a mess—scribbled words, meaningless phrases crammed into multiple pages, and crude drawings. Yet, strangely, Gaeul recognized the monsters from her visions of the fragmented world. The drawings weren’t great, but they were familiar.

‘……’

It was clear that the seer had indeed witnessed the world’s destruction. The scattered entries matched the knowledge Gaeul had. She frowned slightly. Gaeul had seen fragments of the past through her ability.

‘How did the seer see the past?’

At that moment, there was a knock on the door. Gaeul quickly closed the notebook and responded, “Yes.” The door opened, and Ga-yeong walked in with a tray, grinning.

“Mealtime~”

“Already…”

Gaeul glanced around. There were no windows or clocks here. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t hold onto any sense of time. Ga-yeong placed the tray on the low table. On the plate sat a vegetable-filled sandwich and a cup of milk. She clasped her hands together.

“The food’s not that great, huh? Sorry~ No one here really cares about eating. For what it’s worth, I ate the same thing.”

“Oh, no… This is fine. It’s good.”

“If you get hungry, just say the word. We can order chicken or something. If you like Korean food, we can get a full meal set.”

Gaeul nodded and picked up the sandwich. Ga-yeong glanced at the notebook on her lap and smiled.

“You were reading that? It’s the seer’s personal record.”

“Yes…”

“What do you think?”

Gaeul chewed slowly and swallowed the sandwich. It tasted sweet, as if someone had sprinkled sugar on the ketchup. Ga-yeong’s round glasses glinted as she watched, her eyes strangely unreadable. They reminded Gaeul of a crazed person she used to see wandering the streets as a child.

Gaeul wiped the lettuce that had fallen from her sandwich and responded.

“…There are some similarities to the scenes I’ve seen.”

Ga-yeong smiled widely, sitting down across from her.

“Really? That’s great~ Do you believe now?”

“I already stayed because I believed…”

“Liar.”

“……”

“You stayed because you didn’t want to feel powerless. Because you hated feeling useless. You probably felt the weight of your inadequacy.”

Gaeul slowly lifted her head. There was no laughter in Ga-yeong’s eyes. How long had it been since she had stayed here?

Prometheus, as an organization, was… strange. They were unnervingly kind. They answered all of Gaeul’s questions and didn’t restrict her movements. They had even allowed her to visit the area where the captured Hunters were held. Ga-yeong had personally taken Gaeul by the hand and led her there. Gaeul had seen a Hunter banging his head against the wall inside the iron bars and had fallen silent.

‘It was probably a threat…’

A threat that if she didn’t cooperate, she would end up in that cage too.

Otherwise, these people weren’t much different from regular civilians—aside from muttering prayers to the air and experimenting on Hunters. Gaeul put down the sandwich and asked,

“And if I admit that, will anything change?”

“Hmm~ Your mindset will change. And once your mindset changes, you’ll be able to do a lot more.”

“……”

“I like people who try to do something. People like that change the world.”

“Is that so.”

“Face your weaknesses. Who knows? You might be able to accomplish more.”

“…Why are you telling me this?”

“Hmm?”

“Aren’t you supposed to hate Awakeners? So why are you saying this to me?”

“Hmm, who knows? I just feel like I understand you a little… maybe I’m meddling. Feel free to ignore me if you don’t like it~”

Ga-yeong waved her hand lazily and stood up, kicking aside the scattered toys. Gaeul stared blankly at her reflection in the glass before shifting her gaze to Ga-yeong’s retreating figure. Then, she asked.

“What about you?”

“Huh?”

“Have you faced your own weaknesses?”

Ga-yeong slowly turned her head. Her eyes burned with a strange, unsettling desire as she gazed at Gaeul. Her lips curled into a smirk.

“Of course.”

“……”

“I faced them in the most brutal way possible.”

**Thud.** The door closed behind her. Gaeul didn’t touch the glass. Instead, with a determined expression, she reopened the notebook.

---

“I should get going now… I can’t leave my post for too long.”

Min-jun bowed and hurriedly left the parlor. Left alone, Uijae leaned forward, clasping his hands together.

Once Min-jun had started talking, the stories had spilled out in torrents. Most of what he said merely filled in details of what Ga-yeong had already summarized, but Uijae listened closely. Min-jun recounted how the medical team had lacked the resources to provide further treatment, how Lee Sa-young had been on the brink of death, and how Ga-yeong had stepped in like a savior.

As Min-jun rambled on like a man with a dam breaking, he hesitantly asked,

“By the way… is the child doing well?”

“……”

“When I heard that Ga-yeong was with Prometheus, my thoughts immediately went to that child. But I couldn’t find any trace of her. I couldn’t contact J either, and none of the other former team members knew where she was…”

Min-jun looked sincere, fumbling as he spoke. At the time, he must have thought that sending the child with Ga-yeong was the best decision. It was better than letting the child die under their care. He hadn’t acted out of malice. Clearing his throat to ease the tightness there, Uijae answered.

“She’s doing well. There’s still some… pain, but she’s okay.”

“Really? Oh, thank God. Thank God. I was so worried she might have died, or worse…”

Min-jun stretched his arms to the sky, then clasped his hands in a prayer of thanks. His eyes filled with tears, and his nose turned red with emotion. Watching him, Uijae thought.

If I could go back in time…

‘……’

Would I have stayed by Lee Sa-young’s side?

‘No.’

He would have agonized over the decision, hesitated countless times. But in the end, Uijae would have still chosen to go into the rift. Not because he was forced, but by his own will.

Lee Sa-young must have known that too. He had waited so long, without any promise of return. In that time, he must have thought about it endlessly—how to keep Cha Uijae by his side. And then…

*Did he decide it was impossible?*

Is that why he had said, “Don’t worry, you’re not responsible”? Because no matter what Lee Sa-young did, Uijae would have left eventually. Left in search of someone who might still be alive.

It was inevitable. Blaming anyone for it would be pointless.

Uijae pressed his aching temples. He could have just said all of that from the start. What did he mean by *you’re not needed*? *I’m upset?* *Meddling?* *You?* A surge of frustration welled up in Uijae’s chest. He shot to his feet. Even though he had explained it clearly, Lee Sa-young

 clearly hadn’t listened.

*I guess I’ll have to make sure he gets the message next time.*

Just then, the librarian entering the room froze in surprise. Uijae waved at him.

“I’m done here, so I’ll be heading out. Oh, and… could you thank Nam Woojin’s assistant for me?”

“Incheon, huh?” Uijae muttered as he pulled out his phone and dialed Mackerel’s number.