Chapter 316
The cleanup was over quickly. A few passes with a mop took care of the blood on the floor, and the scraped-up, broken walls were covered with white cloth. The gathered S-rank Hunters were dragged off to the infirmary, except for Jeong Bin—he alone received treatment. A large bruise had formed on the back of his neck where Uijae had grabbed him. Uijae mumbled awkwardly.
"…Sorry. That bruise might stick around for a while."
“Haha, not at all. Better a bruise than getting bitten or punched in the face, right?”
Jeong Bin tried to keep things light, but no one laughed. Not even a smirk. Even if it hadn’t been intentional, Uijae—who had struck him—lowered his head. Honeybee, spraying pain relief on her wrist, asked dryly.
"You weren’t trying to be funny just now, right?"
"Excuse me? Why do you ask?"
“Well, if it was a joke, I was gonna laugh along…”
"Ah… no, no. You don’t need to worry about that. I’m fine."
A heavy silence settled in the room. Even the most self-centered S-ranks, who usually didn’t give a damn what anyone thought, found themselves glancing at Jeong Bin. After all, they’d just watched a comrade, someone they worked with, turn into a monster and die in front of them.
Jeong Bin rubbed the back of his neck and gave a soft smile.
"Really, I’m okay."
His gentle gaze turned to Uijae. Feeling more than a little guilty, Uijae angled his head to the side, avoiding eye contact.
"Thanks for coming. Um, from what I heard… Miss Honeybee, you said you’d take responsibility?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah, I did. I figured it’d be safer to bring this guy along than to go alone."
Honeybee tucked her hair behind her ear, watching his reaction.
"…Is there a problem?"
"Haha… no, I was planning to let Mr. J go with just a written report anyway. I’ll handle it appropriately, so don’t worry. All three of you are free to leave."
Jeong Bin picked up his crumpled suit jacket and stood. Honeybee blinked, clearly taken aback.
"What, you’re not going to rest? Just getting back to work like that?"
"No time to rest. Still a lot to clean up. Well then… I’ll be off first."
He gave a polite bow and left the infirmary. Gyugyu rested his chin on his hand, muttering.
"Acting all tough~ when he’s clearly not okay."
Honeybee stretched and replied.
"I get it, though. Work’s probably the only thing keeping his mind off it."
"You do know that’s just another form of self-harm, right~?"
"Shut it, you useless little con artist."
Bang! She slammed the door and stormed out.
And then there were two. Cha Uijae and Gyugyu. The sharp scent of medicated spray lingered in the air. Gyugyu didn’t bother hiding it—he just stared straight at Uijae’s face behind the mask. Uijae ignored the feeling of eyes boring into his cheek.
‘This guy’s seriously uncomfortable to be around…’
He’d been looked at in every way imaginable, but Gyugyu’s gaze was unique—so blatantly analytical, like he was dissecting a specimen. Uijae stood up abruptly and headed for the door. That sly voice followed behind.
“About your hair~…”
“……”
“Don’t you think it’s about time for a dye job? Or not?”
Uijae didn’t reply, didn’t slow down. He stepped out of the infirmary without a word. His brisk walk came to a stop in front of a glass window. His messy gray hair looked nearly white in the reflection. Uijae rolled up his sleeve. No scales. No fur. No monster skin.
Not yet.
‘…Did he notice something?’
Or maybe he was ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) just fishing. Uijae dragged his feet toward the emergency stairwell. He felt stifled. Strangely anxious. He wanted to go higher. Step. Step. Step. He climbed.
He had to keep the mutation a secret. Why? If he told them, he might get treatment.
"……"
He was afraid of how they’d look at him. The fear in their eyes.
If word got out that J was mutating, it would throw everyone into despair.
He didn’t want to change.
His upward steps came to a halt. The rooftop door was slightly ajar. Maybe someone had used a helicopter. Uijae gripped the handle and opened the door carefully.
A dim gray sky, flakes of white ash fluttering around the pale Whitehole at its center.
And the acrid scent of cigarette smoke.
"……"
Jeong Bin stood at the edge of the rooftop, his jacket draped over one arm. Uijae slowly walked over to stand beside him. Between his dust-streaked fingers, a cigarette was burning down. After exhaling a plume of hazy smoke, Jeong Bin finally spoke.
“So, was someone looking for me?”
“No.”
“Did something happen?”
“Not really.”
“Then… what brings you here?”
“Felt suffocated.”
“…Is that so.”
Jeong Bin held the cigarette in his mouth and opened his pack, holding it out. Uijae took one without hesitation. Jeong Bin asked, his words slightly slurred around the cigarette.
“Want a light?”
“No. I’m trying to quit. Just borrowing it.”
“Haha, quitting is a good choice.”
Jeong Bin gave a small, audible laugh. Uijae leaned back against the railing. He scraped away some of the white ash collecting on the rooftop floor with his foot, but it didn’t do much. Jeong Bin, gazing down at the city beyond the railing, murmured.
“Do you remember? We met like this before… hmm, it’s been a while, though.”
“Emergency stairs?”
“Yes. The emergency stairs. So you do remember.”
“Of course I remember.”
Uijae spun the cigarette between his fingers like a pen.
“Then and now, seems like we always end up in similar places. Still avoiding the break room?”
“If the team leader shows up in the break room, it becomes an emergency. People wouldn’t be able to relax, would they?”
Uijae chuckled softly, and Jeong Bin followed with a smile of his own. But soon, that smile faded from his face. The soft expression he always maintained was completely gone. Blank. Uijae wasn’t surprised. Keeping the same expression all the time was exhausting. That’s why he hid behind a mask, behind the skill of a perfect poker face.
“The teammate who died today… he was someone I worked with for a long time. He joined after the West Sea Rift incident, so I suppose you wouldn’t know him, Mr. J.”
A wisp of cigarette smoke drifted away. Uijae didn’t reply, simply waited for what came next.
“Even with low pay and constant overtime, he stuck it out. That old idea about civil servants having stable jobs… it’s long gone.”
“……”
“He was sincere. Reliable. I cared about him a lot.”
The wind blew, tangling his brown hair into a mess. His sunken eyes disappeared behind the strands. His voice, low and heavy, slipped out.
“It would’ve been nice if there had been a sign…”
Uijae didn’t need to ask to know what Jeong Bin was thinking. He was replaying all the possibilities in his head. What if this, what if that. Imagining all the things that hadn’t happened, regretting them. Uijae had learned from Lee Sa-young—regret doesn’t change a damn thing once something’s already happened.
“Don’t overthink it.”
“……”
“Spend that time thinking about what you’ll do next instead. It helps more.”
“Speaking from experience?”
“Yes.”
Uijae’s gaze settled on the dark bruise still visible on the back of Jeong Bin’s neck. If he and Honeybee hadn’t shown up, if Gyugyu hadn’t been right there—Jeong Bin would have died. During the attempt to restrain it, while evacuating others, maybe even trying to talk to the monster. Either way, he would’ve died trying to protect someone else.
‘Being too kind is a problem too.’
Uijae turned and leaned his arms on the railing. Then, with one hand, he gently patted Jeong Bin on the shoulder. Jeong Bin’s eyes widened, then he let out a soft, deflating laugh.
“Was that… meant to comfort me?”
“Yes.”
“…Thank you.”
Jeong Bin closed his eyes and lowered his head. His breathing steadied in slow, quiet intervals. Uijae turned his head away, pretending not to hear. Comforting someone was something he still wasn’t used to.
‘It’d be nice if there was never a reason to get used to it.’
To get used to comforting someone meant someone else had to suffer. And he didn’t want that.
Who knew how much time had passed. Jeong Bin’s rough breathing gradually found its rhythm. He took one deep breath, pulled a small ashtray from his inventory, and snuffed out the cigarette. Running his fingers through his disheveled hair, he spoke.
“Mr. J.”
“Yes.”
“Have you thought about… what you’ll do next?”
“……”
“I figure we’re in a similar place, you and I. Especially right after coming out of the Memorial Dungeon…”
…How did he know?
Hit squarely in a spot he didn’t want touched, Uijae stared at him warily. Jeong Bin chuckled quietly behind a fist at his mouth.
“It’d be stranger not to know, judging by how you’ve been acting. Planning to go back in?”
“…Yes.”
Jeong Bin, rubbing his chin, smiled faintly.
“Then this might help.”
He handed over a stiff, laminated piece of paper. Something about the size and texture felt familiar. Almost like a ticket for a high-rank dungeon...
Wait. A ticket?
Uijae’s head snapped up.
“Miss Yoon Gaeul is currently in a space created by Mr. Hong Ye-seong. To block any approach from Prometheus.”
Jeong Bin winked slightly.
“Miss Yoon Gaeul wants to see you, Mr. J.”