The Hunter's Gonna Lay Low-Chapter 114

“Yes, Hyung.”

Sayoung's voice was soft, almost coaxing. Even as he rubbed his cheek against Uijae's palm, his eyes stayed fixed on Uijae’s face. In the dim light, the reflection of J’s black mask was caught in Sayoung’s dark gaze. After watching him silently for a moment, Sayoung spoke again in a gentle but firm tone, as if driving the point home.

“It’s me.”

“…It’s really you?”

This 𝓬ontent is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

Uijae’s voice faltered as he asked, stumbling over the words. For a first response, it was pitiful. Sayoung blinked, the corners of his lips lifting into a smirk.

“Mhm… I’ve grown up quite well, haven’t I? Surprised?”

Sayoung’s usual demeanor wavered for a moment as he teased, but Uijae only opened his mouth soundlessly.

‘How?’

‘You were a test subject?’

‘Why?’

‘Why were you taken?’

‘Did you know I was J?’

‘If you knew, since when?’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

A flood of questions surged within him but quickly sank again. Uijae had swallowed back his words many times before, but this was the first time he had so much to say that no sound could escape. Even finding the right words was impossible.

Sayoung stopped rubbing his cheek against Uijae’s hand and murmured.

“What, don’t believe me?”

“...”

Sayoung’s lips twisted slightly.

“I’m your only success, after all.”

Only success.

“You…”

Thump. Uijae’s heart pounded in his chest, his body trembling as if struck by lightning.

He had thought he would never hear that word again, especially not in Sayoung’s voice.

It still didn’t feel real. Instead, a baseless sense of unease crept over him.

What if this was all a dream? What if this was just a delusion? What if he was confused by the stench of blood all around them? It felt like the ground beneath him could give way at any moment, sending him plummeting into a deep pit.

J didn’t believe in miracles. The time he had spent in the rift was far too long to hold onto such beliefs. When you see your comrades reduced to body parts scattered across the battlefield, you can’t afford to believe in miracles. Knowing that silence, you can’t hope for one.

And yet, even so…

In the rift, J had dreamed. He could dare to say that, in his dreams, he had been happier than anyone else. In the dream, he woke up in a soft, comfortable bed, greeted his parents, complained about breakfast, chatted with his aunt, joked around with Jung Bin, and finished the day telling his child about everything that had happened. A simple, normal life—one that he never had but desperately wished for.

But when he opened his eyes, the world around him was still a sea of blood.

Day by day, the hope for a miracle was chipped away, bit by bit. Every time he pierced a monster, every time the cries of “save me” grew silent, every time he found traces of what used to be his comrades.

Yet J had held onto one last hope. He convinced himself that somehow, he could survive. He consoled the few remaining comrades by his side, holding on for their sake. He couldn’t break his promise to his only success. It was that thought alone that kept him going.

What finally broke him…

Was finding his aunt’s hand.

“...”

Suddenly, Uijae snapped back to reality. He stared blankly at the young man before him. The boy who once lived wrapped in bandages now had a clean, unmarred face. Uijae’s hand, still cupping Sayoung’s cheek, recoiled as if burned.

Just as he was about to pull his hand away, the black-gloved hand covering his tightened its grip. Sayoung’s voice was gentle.

“No, that’s not it.”

“What…”

“There’s something else you should be saying, Hyung.”

The other gloved hand reached toward Uijae’s face. Normally, he would’ve dodged the instant it moved, but Uijae stood frozen, unable to react. Sayoung’s large hand soon covered his mask and carefully removed it.

The cool air touched his skin. Sayoung’s eyes widened slightly before narrowing again. The hand that had removed Uijae’s mask fell away, and Uijae’s arm dropped limply to his side.

Sayoung murmured.

“With a face like that...”

“...”

“I can’t say anything, can I?”

The sound of the mask clattering to the tile floor was sharp and clear.

At the same time, Sayoung’s two black-gloved hands reached out, gently cupping Uijae’s face just as he had done earlier. The warm leather, now heated from body heat, felt unfamiliar against his skin. Sayoung’s thumb delicately brushed over the corner of Uijae’s eye as if handling something precious.

“You should be a little happier, you know?”

“...”

The warmth from his hands felt too comforting, and Uijae instinctively buried his face in them. It was a reflexive action. Sayoung let out a small sigh.

“This isn’t the reaction I expected.”

“...”

“Why do you look like you’re about to cry...?”

It was then that Uijae realized his face was twisted into a mess of emotions. He bit the inside of his lip, but the sharp pain couldn’t suppress the surge of feelings.

Do miracles only come to those who have given up on them? Only after abandoning all greed, surrendering everything, could he see what remained in his hands. And in that empty place…

His “only” had come back to him.

Like a miracle.

Unable to hold back, Uijae reached out and pulled the solid body into his arms. The moment their bodies touched, Sayoung stiffened. Uijae took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. The sweet scent filled his senses. As he cradled the back of Sayoung’s head, soft strands of hair tangled in his fingers.

He could feel Sayoung’s heartbeat, hear his shallow breaths. Both of their heartbeats were faster than ever. They were beating in sync, and that fact made Uijae happier than anything.

With a broken expression, Uijae whispered.

“I’m sorry.”

J had always thought about what he would say when he returned.

At first, the answer had come easily. “I’m back, Hyung. You waited, didn’t you? I kept my promise.” The usual words he always said—words that felt light, easy to say.

But as the time spent wandering the rift grew longer, those joyful words sank, and soon...

‘Auntie!’

Eventually, he couldn’t even bring himself to think about them.

What remained...

“I’m sorry I’m late.”

“...”

Was guilt.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t keep my promise.”

“...”

“I’m sorry I made you wait.”

Only endless apologies.

“I’m sorry...”

The tears didn’t come. They had dried up a long time ago. He could feel the tension slowly draining from Sayoung’s rigid body. Strong arms wrapped around his neck.

Sayoung let out a long breath, lowering his head. His soft cheek and hair brushed against Uijae’s neck. Though Sayoung’s weight pressed down on him, Uijae didn’t stagger. He stood firm, fully supporting him. It was his rightful burden to bear.

A sigh-like voice murmured in his ear.

“It’s okay.”

“...”

“Because I kept the promise.”

Uijae’s fingers tensed in Sayoung’s hair. He thought back to that moment in the dungeon. Sayoung, pale-faced, had smiled with twisted lips, saying things Uijae couldn’t understand.

‘What would you do if I told you I waited?’

That selfish request he had made.

‘Will you wait for me?’

Long ago, when he was crouched among the bodies and blood, Uijae had forced himself to think of something else, afraid he would go mad. Of course, the boy had come to mind. And every time, it ended in regret. J regretted making that promise. He regretted tying their fingers together.

How futile it is to wait for someone who might never return.

Yet, ironically, that regret was what saved J. That regret was the only anchor keeping him from drifting aimlessly. Without it, well… He might have become just another part of the ocean long ago.

That was when he felt Sayoung’s lips move against his neck.

“Why is it always the wrong person apologizing, and the one who should doesn’t?”

Sayoung’s voice, though muttered in frustration, soon softened. He rubbed his forehead against Uijae’s shoulder, his hair tickling the skin.

“Well, you were late, but... You came. You’re here now.”

“...”

“You came to find me.”

“...”

“And that’s enough.”

The tenderness in his words was unexpected. Uijae didn’t know how to respond to such happiness. He could only hold the firm body in his arms a little tighter. Though so much was different from the memories—both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time—Sayoung was still his boy.

Lee Sayoung was his only.

For a long time, they stood there, silently holding each other, listening to the sound of their hearts beating. It felt like the most natural thing in the world.

As Uijae gently patted Sayoung’s back, he stared up at the ceiling. The guilt that had weighed on him began to shift into something else—rage. Sayoung, once a test subject for Prometheus. But who had dared to make J

’s only into an experiment?

‘Those bastards…’

Just then, Sayoung, still resting his head against Uijae’s neck, muttered with a soft chuckle.

“Hyung, it’s best if you don’t overthink things.”

“What?”

Uijae replied sharply. Sayoung chuckled.

“Just be happy. That I’m alive.”

His arms, which had been wrapped around Uijae’s neck, slid down to rub his back. The unfamiliar sensation made Uijae tense. Sayoung’s hand slowly caressed his wings and back as he whispered.

“What’s important now is that I’m alive,”

“...”

“And that you’ve come back. That you found me.”

“...”

“And that’s enough, right? Isn’t it?”

Uijae, who had remained silent, gave a small nod of agreement. Sayoung, who had been resting his head against Uijae’s neck, slowly lifted it. Through his tousled hair, his violet eyes shone brightly. But the man holding him didn’t see them. The anchor always sinks deep into the sea.

Sayoung murmured.

“Yes, that’s enough.”

Sayoung gently lifted his head and pressed his lips to Uijae’s temple, then pulled away before Uijae could even register the touch. His gaze, now filled with soft affection, watched the young man who was holding him. Yet the emotions swirling beneath that affection could not be hidden.

Sayoung silently mouthed the words,

‘You don’t need to know anything else.’