A Terminal Healer Needs an Obsessive Maniac-Chapter 138

"You should avoid the rain too."

Choi Kang-Hoo chided, pulling him close and wrapping an arm around his shoulders as he squeezed them into the narrow space between the two rocks. Their bodies pressed tightly together, leaving no gap between them.

‘There’s no need for this…’

Since Ryu Seo-Ha had obtained a Baek Wing dimension core, and Choi Kang-Hoo a Black Wing core, they didn’t need physical contact, nor would the poisonous rain truly harm them in a dream. It wasn’t as if Choi Kang-Hoo was unaware of this being a dream, either. His actions were both surprising and perplexing, especially given his mild obsession with cleanliness. Besides, they weren't even in a relationship yet…

“At first, I thought of it as a sort of refuge,” Choi Kang-Hoo had once murmured when asked why he had developed feelings for him.

“But at some point, I began to look forward to your visits.”

Ryu Seo-Ha’s eyes widened. Could it really be that, even at this point, Choi Kang-Hoo was beginning to feel something beyond simple affection? Could it be to the extent that he no longer hesitated to seek physical closeness? What was he seeing in a person whose name, face, and identity he couldn’t even fully know?

“Maybe I’ve slowly been tamed,” Choi Kang-Hoo had said.

Ryu Seo-Ha had assumed it was natural for some trust to form after warning Choi Kang-Hoo about impending dangers countless times. But he hadn't expected this level of emotional expression. Even Choi Kang-Hoo seemed unaware of his unusual behavior.

"Why do you treat yourself so carelessly?" Choi Kang-Hoo’s voice broke through Ryu Seo-Ha's thoughts, the hint of frustration in his tone unmissable. The arm around his shoulders shifted slowly, brushing away the water that had dampened his hair.

“You said you wanted to live, with me.”

He was probably referring to when they had spoken about survival as a shared fate, but the subtle tone of his words, paired with the rhythmic sound of rain tapping against the rocks, felt strangely intimate.

Ryu Seo-Ha, pressed against Choi Kang-Hoo’s chest, could feel his rapid yet oddly calm heartbeat. His hand, which had been holding the stone for writing, twitched—this position made it hard to write anything at all.

“Here.”

Sensing his hesitation, Choi Kang-Hoo gently removed the stone from his hand and offered his other palm instead, pressing Ryu Seo-Ha’s finger to it.

“If you have something to say, feel free to write it here.”

Despite the encouragement, Ryu Seo-Ha hesitated. He wanted to offer words of comfort, but was concerned that doing so might obscure the critical information Choi Kang-Hoo needed to remember.

The sourc𝗲 of this content is frёeωebɳovel.com.

“I want to hear what you truly want to say. Not the things you feel you have to say, but what’s really in your heart.”

The sincerity of Choi Kang-Hoo’s words almost brought tears to Ryu Seo-Ha’s eyes. This once-prickly man had become so gentle, his kindness stirring a deep nostalgia within Ryu Seo-Ha.

Choi Kang-Hoo, who had once been wary of trusting anyone, had opened up, just as Ryu Seo-Ha had once done with his own past lover. Now, Ryu Seo-Ha felt a sense of gratitude for being able to support Choi Kang-Hoo, as his lover had once supported him.

He wanted so much to express that he was always on Choi Kang-Hoo's side, that he cared deeply for him. But sadly, he couldn’t convey those feelings fully, not right now.

‘At least one sentence…’

After a brief internal struggle, Ryu Seo-Ha decided to leave a short message, rationalizing that mental care was as important as physical survival. Hoping that it would provide some strength for the tough days ahead, he began writing on Choi Kang-Hoo’s large palm. He felt Choi Kang-Hoo’s heartbeat quicken slightly as his finger moved.

<I desperately want Choi Kang-Hoo to survive and find happiness more than anyone else.>

It was a message filled with pure, unspoken sincerity. The longest sentence Ryu Seo-Ha had ever written since connecting to Choi Kang-Hoo’s subconscious, it was more than just a necessity—it was a heartfelt wish.

“...What’s your name?” Choi Kang-Hoo asked softly, gripping Ryu Seo-Ha’s finger as if afraid to let it go, much like a child instinctively holding onto a parent’s finger. It wasn’t a question of identity but of something more personal, more intimate.

Ryu Seo-Ha shook his head slightly, signaling that he couldn’t provide any more unnecessary information. He then gently turned in Choi Kang-Hoo’s arms and patted his back. Their eyes met, a quiet understanding passing between them.

“Don’t go.”

As if sensing that Ryu Seo-Ha was about to break the connection, Choi Kang-Hoo’s plea came out, the words laden with a vulnerability that was hard to imagine from the original Choi Kang-Hoo, who had always viewed people only in terms of usefulness.

The desperate grip on Ryu Seo-Ha’s shoulder, the way Choi Kang-Hoo buried his face in his neck as though searching for comfort, made it impossible for Ryu Seo-Ha to pull away.

“If you don’t want to, I won’t ask anything more. Just stay like this with me for a little longer.”

There was no way Ryu Seo-Ha could refuse such a raw and honest request from this younger, more vulnerable version of Choi Kang-Hoo.

Cough. Crimson blood splattered across the cold, dark space.

“Pii-youu!”

Ruby’s familiar chirping rang in Ryu Seo-Ha’s ears.

“I’m… alright.”

Mumbling the words like an excuse, Ryu Seo-Ha absentmindedly fiddled with the necklace item imbued with Choi Kang-Hoo’s mana, which was coating his skin. The dizziness and suffocating sensation were growing stronger by the minute.

The item’s protective power was nearing its limit, meaning he would soon be fully exposed to the dense, dark mana of the higher dimension. He hadn’t been able to prepare enough items due to the tight schedule and the complicated manufacturing process.

[Status: Remaining Lifespan: 5 days, 11 hours, 31 minutes]

His remaining lifespan had shrunk considerably.

‘It’s alright.’

He had already warned Choi Kang-Hoo about future dangers hundreds of times. Thanks to the trust they had built, information could now be exchanged more easily in each session.

Although he hadn’t yet succeeded in saving Choi Kang-Hoo in every timeline, the end was in sight. But for now, he had to pause. His priority was replenishing his lifespan.

The item’s effectiveness was about to run out, so the plan he had been considering could no longer be delayed. Ryu Seo-Ha placed his hand on the glowing, rotating main core once again.

The plan to protect himself from the dark mana and recharge his lifespan was simple.

First, he would steal lifespan from the countless versions of himself scattered across different timelines.

Second, he would use that lifespan to intervene in Choi Kang-Hoo’s remaining crossroads and finish the job.

Third, if the item’s power ran out in the process, he would sacrifice some of his lifespan to acquire a new dimension core.

“Ruby, if I start struggling, could you use your power to help me through it?”

“Pii-yuu!”

At his soft plea, Ruby chirped in protest, as if questioning what he was planning to do now.

“Just… in case.”

So far, with the help of his celestial robe and Ruby’s abilities, he had managed to slow the rate at which Choi Kang-Hoo’s mana was consumed by the necklace item. He was confident that, before the item’s effect wore off, he would be able to secure a way to defend against the dark mana.

“Pii-yuu! Pii-yuu!”

Though Ruby’s loud chirps sounded like scolding, the little bird dutifully spread its wings and wrapped them protectively around him. It was as if Ruby was determined to shield Ryu Seo-Ha from anything that might harm him.

“Thank you.”

Reassured by Ruby’s support, Ryu Seo-Ha focused on scanning his past timelines. What he discovered shocked him.

He had encountered a higher being in his previous life.