The Hunter’s Gonna Lay Low

Chapter 281

Awakener Management Bureau, Interview Room.

Tap, tap. The tip of a pen drummed lightly against the desk.

"Let me summarize. You were tasked by Mr. Nam Woo-jin to make contact with Miss Yoon Gaeul, correct?"

"That’s right. For a specialist like me, it was as easy as rolling off a log."

"Yes, yes. And Miss Yoon Gaeul provided some astonishing information?"

"Indeed."

"She claimed she met Mr. J in her dreams. The J we all know. She said Mr. Lee Sa-young, Honeybee, and Mr. J are trapped inside a sub-dungeon of the Erosion Dungeon but require no additional support. Is that accurate?"

"Yes. It seems they’re gathering information about the apocalypse there. Our client—sorry, Hunter J—tried to explain the stages of the apocalypse but was ejected before finishing."

"...At least we know they’re alive. Thank you for sharing this."

Jeong Bin offered a gentle smile. Minggijeok, who had been silently observing him, shrugged his shoulders.

"According to Miss Yoon Gaeul, our client—Hunter J—looked healthy. Well, probably."

Jeong Bin let out a long sigh, while Minggijeok pushed up his sunglasses with a casual gesture. It had been two weeks since the three key members vanished without a trace in the Erosion Dungeon.

Nam Woo-jin had been working with Prometheus to develop a vaccine, but no substantial progress had been made. Gyu-gyu had returned to the country yesterday, yet conveniently declined a meeting with Jeong Bin today, citing Sunday church service as an excuse. Matthew had quickly rejoined the guild, filling the gap left by himself and Honeybee.

And then...

"Is there still no progress with the vaccine development?"

"They say the cause of the mutation isn’t even clear yet. There’s just not enough information."

"......"

Jeong Bin’s expression darkened. The number of people mutating was only increasing. Reports from abroad indicated a skyrocketing rate of human mutations. Rather than uniting to address the crisis, each country was preoccupied with its own problems. Leaks and breaches in containment were inevitable.

There were limits to controlling information or diverting public attention.

Jeong Bin glanced out the window. White ash fell like heavy snowflakes, swallowing every sound—people’s laughter, their screams.

He rose from his seat and picked up his suit jacket. Minggijeok raised an eyebrow.

"Heading out somewhere?"

"Yes..."

Straightening his attire, Jeong Bin smiled faintly.

"To attend church service."

***

At some point—no, to be precise, around the time Sa-young had repaired 67% of the damaged hospital wall—Cha Uijae had grown noticeably quiet. Instead of poking around strange places, he quietly buried himself in piles of books, spending his time there. Is it a good thing when someone’s quiet? Not a chance. This was never a good sign. Every time this happened, trouble always followed.

Sensing something was off with Cha Uijae, Sa-young discreetly asked several people if they thought J was acting strange. But all the responses were the same.

"Seems normal to me."

The only person who even slightly noticed something was Honeybee. She tilted her head thoughtfully and muttered,

"Now that you mention it… he does seem quieter. A little while ago, he was more… you know, bursting into action without thinking."

For someone who was fundamentally incapable of living quietly, acting calm was definitely a sign of trouble. Something was wrong.

Sa-young silently watched Uijae, who was leaning against a bookshelf, flipping through pages. Judging by his reaction speed, he hadn’t lost his abilities. But there was a familiar wariness about him. He was hiding—shielded behind a thick wall. Just like when they first met in that alley near the soup restaurant.

Ash-gray hair spilled naturally over the black mask. Had it gotten lighter? Sa-young reached out, but Uijae tilted his head slightly, dodging the touch. It was a natural movement, but Sa-young knew.

"......"

He avoided it. Intentionally.

Uijae kept leisurely flipping pages, ignoring the sharp gaze Sa-young directed at him. Sa-young tried again, reaching out, but the irritating man deftly avoided him once more. So that’s how it’s going to be. Sa-young sighed briefly, stood up, and looked down at the round ash-gray head below him.

"What are you doing?"

Flip. Another page turned. A voice, muffled and altered, replied indifferently.

"Reading."

"Why are you avoiding my hand?"

"You’re distracting me."

"Ah, I see. I’m a distraction, huh? Useless, so I should just leave?"

"There you go, overanalyzing things again… Sa-young, let me read, will you? I’m nourishing my soul right now."

Mumbling, Uijae sprawled out on the floor, even crossing his legs neatly. The black mask disappeared behind the book. Sa-young didn’t like the distorted voice. He wanted to hear Uijae’s voice—the one full of raw emotion, the one he knew so well.

The Uijae sitting here now…

"I thought you said you fall asleep and can’t read when you see words?"

"It’s a picture book."

"How old are you, exactly?"

"A hundred."

Somehow, he felt distant. Even though he was right in front of him. And that made Sa-young anxious. Uneasy. He suppressed the urge to tear off the mask hiding behind that thick book. He wanted to see the face beneath it.

"......"

Flip. Another page turned. Sa-young crouched down in front of him.

"Hyung."

"Yeah?"

He always answered. Time to push a little harder.

"Cha Uijae."

"Stop sneaking into informal speech."

So far, the responses were just as he expected. Where had it gone wrong? Sa-young sifted through countless possibilities in his head, but there wasn’t enough information. He needed to dig deeper.

"What’s wrong?"

"What do you mean?"

"Did I do something wrong?"

The hand turning the page froze. Good. Finally, a real reaction. Sa-young swallowed his satisfaction and maintained a neutral expression. This much was easy for him. Waiting and enduring were his specialties.

Maybe he should act a little more pitiful. Tilting his head slightly, he blinked slowly.

"Why are you doing this all of a sudden…"

"......"

"It’s hurtful."

The fingers holding the book slackened slightly. Sa-young seized the brief moment, snatching the book and flipping through it. What Uijae had been looking at was…

Blank. Every single page. He’d been staring at something that couldn’t even be called a book.

Handing it back with a deadpan tone, Sa-young commented,

"You said it was a picture book. There’s nothing in it."

"That’s how it looks to you too?"

"......"

"Then I guess it really is blank."

"…Why were you staring at this?"

"I thought I might figure something out."

His expression was still unreadable. Slowly, Sa-young reached out again. This time, Uijae didn’t dodge. His gloved hand brushed against the lower edge of the mask, slipping beneath it. A faint warmth greeted him. Carefully, Sa-young removed the mask.

Click.

"......"

"......"

Neither shock nor discomfort, neither indifference nor a smile—there was nothing. The face looking back at Sa-young was utterly expressionless, like a doll’s. The blue eyes glowing faintly revealed nothing.

Sa-young—or rather, "Sa-young"—recognized that face.

It was the face of a hero.

Catch him.

Catch him!

His own voice echoed in his head. Without questioning it, Sa-young grabbed Uijae’s wrist. His body moved faster than his thoughts. A chill ran down his spine, sweat forming at the nape of his neck.

Since when? What triggered this? But there was no time to think. Summoning all his will, Sa-young forced his voice to emerge. Anything. Anything to hold him.

"Hyung, wait…"

"......"

"…Cha Uijae!"

"Hey, didn’t I tell you not to use my name so casually? Who said you could call me that?"

Grumbling, Uijae easily broke free from the grip on his wrist. Sa-young stared at him. This was undoubtedly Cha Uijae, but… not the one he knew.

Uijae picked up the mask from the floor and put it back on. His unreadable face disappeared behind it once more. He gently patted Sa-young’s shoulder as he knelt there.

"I’m off to meet the guild leader. Got an appointment."

"Wait… let me come with you."

"We’ve got some private matters to discuss. Just wait here."

"Cha—!"

Before Sa-young could raise his voice, Uijae turned slightly. Holding up a finger to his lips, he shushed him.

"Shh."

"......"

"No matter what, my name’s a secret. You can’t just throw it around."

"......"

"It won’t take long. I’ll be right back."

Ash-gray hair disappeared between the bookshelves. Sa-young stared blankly at the empty spot where Uijae had been. A splitting headache struck him like a hammer. Clutching his head, he groaned as voices tangled in his mind.

This is a secret.

A secret.

Secret.

Drip. A bead of cold sweat fell, leaving a dark circle on the wooden floor. Sa-young blinked heavily, his lashes damp. His very soul screamed.

Stop him.