“What exactly about us looks like lovers?”

He hid his anxiety behind a tone of sheer disbelief.

Of course, this wasn’t the first time they had been mistaken for a couple. Lee Jaehee had said it, and so had Han Gyeongjin, but Jaehee was a certified lunatic, and Gyeongjin was the type to get way too invested in reality dating shows. Neither of their opinions was worth serious consideration. Until now.

But Sa-yoon was now aware that Han Geon-joo harbored a precursor to affection for him. In that context, being mistaken for lovers by someone who could be considered his friend was a red flag. Just hearing other people say it could cause Geon-joo’s feelings to grow.

He had to cut it down before a crush could blossom into love.

Speaking of which, is he even aware of it himself?

Sa-yoon’s gaze swept over Geon-joo’s seemingly composed face. Back in the collapsing building, he hadn’t seemed to recognize his own emotions. It had been the same when they talked at the hotel, but for some reason, he felt it might be different now.

Emotions had a tendency to grow slowly while they remained unrecognized, but the moment they were acknowledged and given a name, they would swell uncontrollably and solidify their place. This was especially true for anxiety, and despair was much the same. Affection, being an emotion, would be no different. Hadn’t he himself come to cherish Geon-joo all the more from the moment he began to see him as a part of his life?

Based on experience and logic, it would be much easier if Han Geon-joo remained unaware of his own feelings. As Sa-yoon tried to read his eyes, their gazes met, and Geon-joo offered a slight smile. He couldn’t read his thoughts at all.

What good is [Eye of the Genius] if it can’t see into a person’s heart?

He found himself coveting Lee Jaehee’s Heaven’s Secret Revelation skill. Just then, Choi Yeon-woo lifted his straw, tapped it against the cup to shake off the drops, and tilted his head.

“It’s not really your actions or anything that makes you look like lovers. It’s just that when I first saw you, Han Geon-joo looked so comfortable next to you, I figured you might be his boyfriend. Well, the fact that you’re a guy was a bit of a surprise, though.”

“Don’t say pointless things, Choi Yeon-woo.”

“See? That. It’s that attitude that made you seem like a couple. Look at how he jumps in to shut down any comment that might tarnish his image. This is a guy who usually wouldn’t even bat an eye no matter what you say, but he’s only like that when he’s next to you, hyung.”

The tip of the red straw pointed at Han Geon-joo, who was glaring with sharp eyes. Choi Yeon-woo scowled as if he’d seen something he shouldn’t have and fell silent, though he looked like he had more to say. A heavy silence that no one dared to break settled over the table.

So it’s not because of me, but because of Geon-joo, that we look like a couple.

Sa-yoon rubbed his chapped lips with a dry hand. If his own attitude had been the problem, he was prepared to fix it. But the answer he got pointed to Han Geon-joo as the source of the misunderstanding, leaving him at a loss as to how he should act.

In the first place, Sa-yoon had rarely gotten the impression that Han Geon-joo was comfortable by his side. If anything, he had looked far more at ease when he was with Choi Yeon-woo.

Is it a difference in perspective?

It was possible. While he perceived a peaceful situation as more stable, Choi Yeon-woo might see the version of Han Geon-joo who had dropped his mask as the more comfortable one. It was an unbridgeable gap in values between an Awakened and a non-Awakened.

There’s nothing I can do about this, then.

Ultimately, there was no action he could take. His thumbnail scraped against his lip. The deeper he fell into thought, the deeper the furrow in his brow became. The two men sitting opposite and beside him watched him in silence. In the quiet, meant to not disturb his thoughts, the gazes of Choi Yeon-woo and Han Geon-joo met.

“What.”

“Hmmm.”

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Hmm?”

“Hah…”

Each time he called him, he got no real answer, only a slight change in the angle of his head. The gesture was so meaningful it felt like he was being teased. Geon-joo lowered his gaze, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. Just then, Choi Yeon-woo let out a small laugh.

“You’ve still got a long way to go.”

“What are you talking about?”

“What do you think? Ah, I don’t know if I should be watching something this entertaining all by myself. Shouldn’t I be paying to see this?”

“…?”

Geon-joo’s eyebrows shot up at the incomprehensible remark, but Choi Yeon-woo just continued to dip his straw in and out of his drink, showing no intention of resolving his friend’s confusion. Sa-yoon, having emerged from his thoughts to witness this scene, let out a dry laugh. It was a mirror image of his own conversations with Han Geon-joo.

Whether they had grown to resemble each other, or if they were truly birds of a feather who had found each other, seeing Han Geon-joo on the receiving end of the same tactic he always used was incredibly refreshing.

Get a dose of your own medicine, you bastard.

Han Geon-joo needed to learn how frustratingly annoying his habit of speaking in riddles, hiding his true intentions, and subtly provoking people was. If you have something to say, just say it. Whatever the topic was, Sa-yoon found himself rooting for Choi Yeon-woo to needle him a little more, but then his friend stopped playing with his straw and changed the subject.

“So what do you do, hyungnim? I heard Geon-joo awakened, so are you a hunter too? Are you famous? I don’t know much about hunters, but if you’re famous, maybe I could get your number…”

The slightly shady young man from a moment ago was gone, replaced once more by a harmless one who began to pepper him with questions. Seeing that he had no intention of continuing their previous conversation, Sa-yoon let his disappointment go.

It wasn’t as if anything good would have come from it anyway. If the talk had continued, it might have led to Geon-joo becoming fully aware of his own feelings, which would have been a problem.

“I’m a hunter, yes. And I’m about as famous as famous gets. As for my number, it won’t do you any good. If you don’t want to get stabbed walking down the street, you should put your phone away.”

“Whoa. That’s intense. But you’re really a hunter? Damn, I’ve never met a hunter before.”

“And I don’t look like a hunter to you?” Geon-joo interjected.

“Nah. You don’t really give off a hunter vibe.”

“Why not?”

“You look weak.”

That definitive statement hit Sa-yoon’s preferences perfectly. He burst out laughing because it was true, which earned him a sullen look from Han Geon-joo. It was even more amusing to hear Choi Yeon-woo report that he’d never seen Geon-joo make a face like that before.

His mood, which had hit rock bottom, slowly began to rise with the conversation. Choi Yeon-woo continued to ask all sorts of questions. Even his embellished war stories—about being rich, being strong, conquering the back alleys—were met with enthusiastic reactions, which made bragging fun.

“So then I grabbed their leader and crushed him. Once we were actually fighting, he wasn’t such a big deal after all.”

Before he knew it, he was even talking about how he’d finished off Scorpion, and Choi Yeon-woo was reacting with loud, “Oohs!” and “Aahs!” It was a far cry from Han Geon-joo, who would usually just flick his pretty tail and occasionally ignore him.

“I will serve you as my hyungnim!”

“I misjudged you. I thought you were like Geon-joo, but now I see you’re completely different.”

By the time the atmosphere was so lively they could have been drinking alcohol instead of iced tea, he and Choi Yeon-woo were acting like sworn brothers. He was a pretty likeable guy. He was about to give him Jong-sik’s number and tell him to call if he ever got into a street fight when Han Geon-joo grabbed his collar and pulled him back.

“If you’re not drunk, then sober up. He’s a civilian.”

“Ah, right.”

Sa-yoon chuckled and put away the business card he had taken out. As Choi Yeon-woo looked on in disappointment, his now-black eyes glanced at the clock on the wall.

“Isn’t it time for you to go?”

“…Me?”

“Yes. You said you had something to do today, Yeon-woo.”

Han Geon-joo’s voice was the gentlest it had been all day, his eyes curving into a smile. Choi Yeon-woo’s jaw dropped, then he scowled, sighed, and stood up. I knew it. This bastard hasn’t changed a bit, has he? The words, which he tried to mutter to himself, were unfortunately as clear as a megaphone announcement to the two S-Class Awakened.

“Choi Yeon-woo.”

“I’m going, I’m going. I’ll be off, hyungnim!”

He slapped the table and stood, grabbing the bag he’d left on the chair next to him. Only then did Sa-yoon check the time. It didn’t feel like they had talked for that long, but the minute hand had already gone around three times.

“Take care. And if anything comes up, contact me through Geon-joo.”

“He’s the type who won’t even answer his phone. He’s probably been ignoring my calls for over a year. That’s why everyone thought he went to study abroad.”

Providing one last tidbit about Geon-joo’s usual personality, Choi Yeon-woo waved and disappeared out of the cafe. With the departure of the boisterous mood-maker, the cafe became surprisingly quiet. Sa-yoon took out his phone and checked the messages from Gyeongjin and Yen. The Scorpion clean-up was almost complete.

Now all we have to do is find the relic and the Divine Artifact and go back. He hadn’t told them about the Gate yet. He sent a message telling them to secure the items, then fell into thought, unsure what excuse to give. He didn’t know how long they would be inside. He was considering telling them to expect him in three months when a weight settled on his shoulder. It was a familiar weight.

“What.”

“Feeling better now? The two of you ganging up on me like that?”

“Are you pouting?”

“Of course not.”

“Your voice sounds pretty insolent for someone who’s not.”

Sa-yoon instinctively raised a hand to pat the head resting on his shoulder but stopped. It was an action he’d started doing naturally at some point, but now he wondered if things like this were what gave people the wrong idea.

Could this be leading him on?

Wary, he lowered his hand. He felt a stare fixed on him, clearly demanding an explanation, but he had nothing to say.

What could he possibly say?

I’m going to stop patting your head because I think it’s making you misunderstand?

What a crazy explanation.

He was worried about how to answer if Geon-joo asked, but thankfully, he didn’t press the issue. Instead, he was the one to change the subject, asking who he was texting that required so much thought. Sa-yoon estimated the time he’d be in the Gate with Geon-joo and sent a message to Gyeongjin, Yen, and Jaehee.

The message contained an order: he was entering a Gate and didn’t know when he’d be out, so they were to return to Korea first after securing the items and finishing the clean-up.

An immediate reply came from Gyeongjin asking what he was talking about, followed by who was going to handle the work while he was gone, but he ignored it by turning off his phone screen.

I’ll raise your salary.

They had raked in a fortune dealing with Scorpion. If he gave Gyeongjin a higher percentage, he’d forget all his troubles and be overjoyed. The only thing left was to inform the Association President that the matter was resolved. He made the call, ignored his probing questions, and stated only the facts. The call ended with the sound of the President choking after checking the payment details. With his tasks complete, quiet returned.

Like the pre-dawn hours.

The sun was beginning to set.

He watched the twilight and opened the quest window. There were now just under two hours until the Gate opened. They needed to move to a quiet, secluded place. He already had one in mind.

The forest where he had fled to escape Scorpion’s pursuit.

They killed another hour at the cafe. When the notification confirmed exactly sixty minutes remained, they finally left. The sun was low in the sky, beckoning the moon, and the world was cloaked in dusk. As if by unspoken agreement, neither of them spoke after leaving the cafe.

“Hyung.”

Just as they reached the edge of the forest, Han Geon-joo was the first to break the silence. Sa-yoon cut him off before he could continue.

“We don’t know what’s going to come out of there, so prepare thoroughly. Check your potion count. Swap out your items; assume you need to be decked out in cold-resistance gear. If you have any skills with a cooldown that isn’t finished, tell me now. We might face spiritual monsters like in the Swamp of Specters, so check if you have any curse-resistance items. If not, I’ll give you one.”

As he poured out the instructions, Sa-yoon meticulously checked his own inventory. He needed to be more prepared for this Gate than any other. He had to be cautious. But the man in front of him didn’t move. He could feel him staring straight at him, and he held his breath.

“I’m saying this just in case, but don’t let personal feelings ruin this mission.”

“…”

“You and I, we’ve both been through hell because of this one thing.”

It was the beginning of their terribly twisted fate. It was a chance to untie the knot, and at the same time, a chance to bind it.

“When this is over, you won’t have to be tied to me anymore. Your role, as you said, ends with helping to activate the disposition. After we clear the Gate, you can find something else to do. You’ve done a good job until now.”

He hoped he would live a comfortable life in a safe place. Yes, with his friend Choi Yeon-woo by his side.

He could provide all the financial backing for that life.

He placed a hand on his shoulder, pressing down as he spoke. Han Geon-joo took his hand and lowered it, his voice a quiet murmur.

“The reason I said I’d help you was to save your life.”

“I know.”

That’s why I used you. Because you told me to.

“So please, clear it and come out safely.”

“…”

“I hope I can still see you outside the Gate after we clear it.”

No one could mistake the meaning behind those words. Sa-yoon didn’t answer. Han Geon-joo didn’t press him for one. But as the silence stretched, his lips parted once more.

“I’m already anxious enough, not knowing what’s going to happen in there. So don’t you be scary too, hyung.”

“…”

“You’re my hyung, after all.”

Sa-yoon’s body flinched at his words. It was difficult to meet his direct gaze, and he turned his head away. The remaining time ticked by. Even without a clock, the sound of a second hand seemed to echo in his ears before it stopped. The space between the dense trees began to distort.

Their joined hands tightened. Without a word, both men drew a sharp breath at the same time. Their gazes were fixed on the shimmering, heat-haze-like space. The distorted space turned black, and a silver aura began to emanate from its surroundings.

[The Resistor (?)] Will you end your life as a villain?

<To activate the ‘Resistor’ disposition, please proceed with the following quest! (º □ º l|l)>

[Quest – Third Step for Activation]

Type: Resistor Quest 

Party: (2/2) 

‘Clear the designated Gate in cooperation with the disposition holder.’ Details: Clear the designated Gate, ‘The True Evil of Humanity?,’ with the Awakened who possesses the ‘Heaven and Earth, I Alone am the Honored One’ disposition. 

Reward: Able to proceed to the Final Step for Activation. 

Failure Penalty: ‘Resistor’ disposition will be deleted.

<Time until creation of Special Gate ‘The True Evil of Humanity?’: 0 seconds>

It was the Gate.

The status window floated before them, shining with an undeniable blue light. Sa-yoon squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them and took a step forward.

The bodies of the two men were instantly sucked into the Gate.