The Hunter’s Gonna Lay Low

Chapter 287

“Lee Sa-young! What happened—”

Jeong Bin, who had hurried after him, sharply inhaled as he caught sight of the scene.

Sa-young was gently supporting Uijae’s hand. His fingernails were a mess. How much had he clawed at the ground? The nails were broken, and the skin was scraped raw, blood seeping through. Sa-young scanned the disarray around them: bloodstains and handprints on the wooden floor and scattered books, alongside an unidentified translucent liquid.

He recognized it immediately. That memory informed him.

“I’ll get the doctor!”

Jeong Bin’s footsteps grew distant. Sa-young neither clung to Uijae nor set him down on the floor. He knew it would be better to separate, but he couldn’t bring himself to place him on the ground. Instead, Sa-young rubbed the back of his hand across his own damp cheek.

Even unconscious, Uijae’s breathing was irregular. Sa-young pressed his ear close to his chest to listen to his heartbeat. It was far too fast.

“…Hyung.”

Uijae, who had reached out toward the void, hadn’t been reaching for Sa-young. His hand and gaze were directed somewhere else. Something else.

No, Sa-young had seen it clearly—those black eyes restlessly searching the empty air, failing to find their destination, trembling with unease.

He couldn’t see.

Sa-young clenched his teeth. In the light, Uijae’s ashen hair looked almost white.

When did it start?

How long had his vision been deteriorating? Had this happened before? Sa-young combed through the memories that weren’t his own but came up with nothing.

It’s never been like this.

No matter how much pain Uijae had endured before, he had never shown such vulnerability.

Sa-young’s mind spun. Up until now, everything had been fine.

Hadn’t it?

Even unconscious, Uijae panted and trembled uncontrollably. Occasionally, he’d regain brief awareness and thrash violently, as though trying to escape Sa-young. Each time, Sa-young restrained him with his arms, unwilling to let him flee.

Eventually, Uijae curled into a ball, clutching Sa-young’s coat collar tightly. Tears pooled on his soaked eyelashes, dripping onto Sa-young’s pants. Sa-young raised his hand to wipe them away but hesitated. In this state, even the slightest touch could push him over the edge.

“…Can you hear me?”

Uijae’s shoulders flinched, his breathing quickening even further. A shaky, sob-like sound escaped his lips. Sa-young suppressed the urge to pull him into an embrace. Instead, he clenched his fists and pressed them against the floor.

“Slow down your breathing. You’re going too fast.”

“……”

“Breathe in. Let it out….”

Following Sa-young’s low voice, Uijae’s chest began to move in slower, more measured intervals. Sa-young offered quiet encouragement.

“Good. Keep going.”

“……”

Time passed. Slowly, Uijae’s breathing evened out, the sobs subsided, and his grip on Sa-young’s coat loosened slightly.

Sa-young tilted his head, staring at Uijae’s ashen crown.

“Don’t let go of me….”

“……”

“Where do you think you’re going? You can’t even see.”

The slight rustling of movement ceased. He’s probably thinking about whether I noticed. Sa-young sighed deeply, tilting his head back.

If Uijae weren’t in so much pain, Sa-young would have pressed him harder, would have demanded answers. But how could he push someone trembling with fear and pain? Instead, he softened his tone.

“You hid it well, huh.”

Of course, he couldn’t resist slipping in a small jab.

“…Was it that hard to just say you couldn’t see? Can’t you be honest with me for once?”

Sa-young closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. His stomach churned every time things like this happened. Why did Uijae have to keep so many secrets? Would it kill him to be a little more open?

Then, a faint muttering reached his ears.

“…I’m scared.”

Sa-young’s eyes widened as he looked at Uijae. Scared. Uijae had said he was scared. What could he possibly be afraid of?

An answer hovered at the edge of his thoughts, but he hesitated, unsure whether to voice it. Finally, he asked cautiously, his clenched fist trembling slightly.

“…Me?”

Uijae didn’t answer. Instead, he shook his head. Relief washed over Sa-young like a wave, draining the tension from his body. From his toes to his head, he felt the weight lift. Sa-young relaxed his fist.

After several deep breaths, Uijae finally spoke again, his voice shaky and deliberate.

“…No.”

“Huh?”

The hand gripping Sa-young’s coat collar tightened again. With a trembling voice, Uijae forced out each word.

“I don’t want to die.”

“……”

“I don’t want to die….”

The hand clutching Sa-young’s coat collar finally went limp, and at the same time, Uijae’s head slumped forward. Sa-young quickly used the edge of his coat to cradle Uijae’s head. He gazed blankly at the face of the young man who had cried himself to exhaustion.

He always acted like he had no regrets, never hesitated to stab himself if necessary, and carried himself as though he’d do anything to save the world.

But now…

“I don’t want to die.”

Uijae looked younger than his age, far too youthful to be 28. Many people mistook him for someone in his early twenties. Sa-young realized, with a sudden pang, that the Uijae who had promised to return to him must have looked just like this.

Twenty years old. Far too young to die.

The sharp sound of hurried footsteps echoed closer.

“What in the world—”

Nam Woo-jin came to an abrupt halt. He, too, must have seen it: the bloodstains on the floor, the translucent white liquid, and the chaos scattered across the room.

Sa-young pulled off his glove with his teeth and flung it toward Nam Woo-jin. Then, shoving his now-bare hand into his coat pocket, he spoke.

“That liquid on the glove—it looks like the blood from mutated monsters, doesn’t it?”

“…Who bled it?”

“This man,” Sa-young said, motioning toward Uijae with his chin.

Nam Woo-jin pressed his lips into a thin line and knelt down. Pulling back Uijae’s sleeve, he inserted a syringe into the exposed skin. At first, the syringe filled with crimson blood, but slowly, the translucent white liquid began to mix with it. Nam Woo-jin’s eyes widened in shock.

“…This is…”

And then—

Time stopped.

“…What’s going on? Why did you—”

To be precise, everything but Lee Sa-young came to a halt. Nam Woo-jin remained frozen in place, syringe in hand, and Jeong Bin stood motionless with worry etched on his face.

Sa-young scowled, scanning the room. A heavy silence filled the air.

“What the hell is this now?”

He gently shook Uijae, who was slumped against his chest. Judging by the faint grimace on his face, Uijae hadn’t been frozen like the others. Sa-young reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Could he make a call in this situation? He scrolled through his contacts and found Honeybee’s number.

At that moment, his phone rang.

[Hornet]

“Well, speak of the devil,” Sa-young muttered with a dry laugh, pressing the call button. A sharp voice crackled through the line.

—“Hey! Are you okay over there? Wait, is this even connected?”

“Yeah, it’s connected. Judging by how quickly you called, something strange must be happening on your end too.”

—“‘Strange’ doesn’t even begin to cover it. Everyone’s frozen! It’s like the whole world broke down. What did you do? Be honest!”

“If I had done something, I wouldn’t be complaining about it,” Sa-young retorted irritably. Holding the phone between his ear and shoulder, he reached for Uijae’s arm and removed the syringe still embedded in it. Blood welled up at the puncture site. Adjusting Uijae’s position in his arms, Sa-young stood up.

“This just happened out of nowhere. I don’t know the cause.”

—“Then at least tell me what happened right before!”

“……”

Sa-young glanced down at Uijae, cradled in his arms. Right before this… Nam Woo-jin had drawn Uijae’s blood and seemed to realize something. And at that exact moment, the world froze.

The white blood. Uijae is mutating.

Could it be that the revelation of his mutation triggered this? This world was reconstructed from memories. What if something occurred that diverged too greatly from those memories? What if the event was too much for the world to handle?

…There wasn’t enough information yet. Sa-young deflected.

“Are you sure it wasn’t you who did something?”

—“Ha! I’m innocent, thank you very much. I was roasting snacks and reading the Gospel of Matthew.”

“Wow, living the high life, huh?”

—“Call it information gathering, will you? I’ve been memorizing all the rifts and dungeons that have appeared so far.”

“Good for you.”

—“Anyway, where are you? Seowon Guild?”

“Yeah. Come here when you can.”

—“Got it. I’ll be there soon.”

The call ended with a click.

Sa-young looked around at the frozen figures. At the end of the syringe, drops of pale liquid fell one by one to the floor. Sa-young leaned his head against Uijae’s damp hair, briefly rubbing their heads together.

Then, a white system window appeared before him. Red text blinked ominously.

[Error detected.]
[Analyzing cause….]
[…Analysis complete.]

[Error: A phenomenon has occurred that contradicts recorded memories.]
[Error: Entities Nam Woo-jin and Jeong Bin are unaware of Cha Uijae’s mutation.]

[…Removing source of error.]

A white circle materialized in midair. From within the circle, pale white hands emerged, reaching out toward them.