The Hunter's Gonna Lay Low-Chapter 133

"Your foot..."

"And what about it?"

Sayoung replied in a calm, amused tone, his violet eyes glinting mischievously as they gazed at Uijae. The slight pressure on Uijae’s ankle remained, the fabric of his pants brushing lightly with every subtle movement. Unable to ignore the sensation, Uijae quickly set his bread down.

"Wait, wait, hold on."

"It's not 'wait'—you should be addressing me properly."

The soft pressure of Sayoung’s foot against his ankle continued, teasing the fabric of Uijae's pants and making him clench his fists instinctively. Unable to hold back, he forced out a response.

"...Lee Sayoung."

"Yes? I'm right here."

"Why are you touching me with your foot?"

"Well..."

Sayoung’s smile widened as he tilted his head.

"Because I feel like it."

"You can't just do whatever you want because you feel like it!"

"But..."

The foot that had lingered under the hem of Uijae's pants shifted slightly, now pressing gently into the arch of his foot as if they were two pieces meant to fit together. It sent an oddly satisfying jolt through Uijae's system. Sayoung tilted his chin upward, his voice soft but laced with confidence.

"You’ll let me, won’t you?"

‘This guy... why is he so reckless with his foot?’

Was it the strange atmosphere of the room they’d seen earlier? Or perhaps it was the memory of Sayoung’s face, flushed crimson not too long ago, that made Uijae feel uneasy. His foot instinctively recoiled, seeking distance.

"What kind of nonsense is this…? Hey, get your foot off me."

Just as Uijae tried to pull his foot away, Sayoung’s voice came in low and teasing.

"You can’t even handle this? After biting my finger like that?"

Sayoung raised his hand, showing off the bandaged finger as if to emphasize his point. Uijae had nothing to say in response. That finger was going to be a constant reminder from now on. Feeling both exasperated and resigned, Uijae picked up his bread again, though the foot beneath his own persisted.

Sayoung's lazy drawl broke the silence.

"In this world... we seem to be quite close."

The words hit like a strike to the heart. Uijae coughed lightly, covering his mouth, his mind flashing back to the large bed and the two distinctly different sets of belongings. His cheeks flushed involuntarily, though not as brightly as Sayoung’s had earlier.

‘Damn, why doesn’t my poker face work at times like this?’

The awkward coughing fit eventually subsided as Uijae tried to calm his racing thoughts.

‘...Wait, come to think of it, hasn’t my poker face been missing for a while now?’

Before he could delve deeper into that thought, Sayoung's smirk widened as he mockingly pointed out Uijae's expression.

"What are you thinking about? Your face is bright red."

"...I choked on something."

"Uh-huh… sure."

"It’s true."

"Of course. But I meant we’re close like family."

Sayoung shrugged and gestured toward the living room with a nod.

"There’s even a photo of us together."

"A photo?"

"You didn’t see it? Wow, you really weren’t paying attention. Check it out later."

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Sayoung spoke casually and then stabbed his fork into the omelet, taking small bites. However, his face scrunched up slightly the moment the food entered his mouth.

"If you don’t like it, don’t eat it."

"It’s not that…"

Sayoung hesitated, chewing slowly before muttering,

"It’s been a while."

"A while for what?"

"To eat food and actually taste it."

"...What?"

"Never mind, it’s nothing."

Sayoung replied indifferently, spreading jam on his bread. Uijae pursed his lips, processing what he'd just heard.

Had Sayoung really been unable to taste food all this time? But hadn’t he eaten well back at the soup restaurant?

Suddenly, a memory hit him. The day Lee Sayoung had first come to the restaurant. Uijae had watched him closely as he ate his hangover soup for the first time, curious to see what he would say.

Now that he thought about it...

‘The soup’s hot.’

‘The meat’s tender.’

He hadn’t really commented on the flavors at all.

‘Damn poison.’

"Why do you look so sad?"

Uijae lifted his head. Sayoung, having taken a bite of his jam-covered bread, chewed slowly, watching Uijae carefully. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, and he wiped the crumbs from his lips with his thumb.

"If you pity me…"

The soft skin of Sayoung’s foot brushed against Uijae’s again. This time, his smile was bright.

"Don’t push me away."

Uijae remained silent. Both of them knew the truth—that Uijae didn’t pity Sayoung, and that Sayoung’s foot wasn’t going anywhere. This was simply...

"……."

An excuse. A way to cover up something deeper.

There are emotions that are better left unnamed.

And so, Uijae didn’t move away from the warmth pressing against him. Instead, he nudged Sayoung’s ankle with his toes. Just a little. Just enough to seem like it was an accident.

Uijae picked up the small picture frame from the living room drawer. It held a photo of him and Sayoung, arms around each other’s shoulders and waists, smiling warmly at the camera. A world where the West Sea Rift hadn’t happened.

If the Rift hadn’t occurred, could they have lived like this? Like a family?

Just then, Uijae's phone buzzed in his pocket. He placed the frame back down and hesitated before checking the screen. It was a message.

**Uijae, good afternoon! Are you doing well with Sayoung? Give me a call tonight, okay? ~Auntie Hye-kyung~**

The message was written in an overfamiliar, affectionate tone, filled with emojis. The sender…

‘Auntie?’

Park Hye-kyung. Uijae stared at the familiar name on the screen, tapping through the message history. There were countless texts exchanged, and phone call logs appeared regularly, at least once every two days.

‘In this world, Auntie is alive, too...’

Uijae rubbed the screen gently, as if he could somehow reach out and touch the words. The sunlight streaming in through the large window was bright and warm.

This place… it was too perfect, too peaceful. Like it had been made by extracting only the best memories.

The sound of water rushing through the sink brought Uijae back to the present. He looked up. Sayoung was standing in the kitchen, washing dishes, scrubbing away the suds. Noticing Uijae’s gaze, Sayoung glanced over his shoulder, his violet eyes meeting Uijae’s with a puzzled look.

‘…….’

Uijae shut off his phone screen and shoved it back into his pocket. The moment of peace had passed. It was time to figure out how to escape this dungeon.

Outside, the scenery hadn’t changed much. It was clear they needed to leave the house to find answers. This house seemed more like a safe zone or a base camp than anything else.

He made his way to the front door. The door, unlike most, was locked with a key instead of a digital lock. He unlocked it cautiously, gripping the handle.

‘Just a quick check outside.’

Uijae was prepared for anything, even the possibility of facing monsters the moment he opened the door. He braced himself, turned the handle, and then…

"...What the…"

He was met with a vast emptiness.

Clunk. The sound of a single shoe being kicked over the threshold echoed as it rolled into the bottomless abyss beyond. There was no sound of it landing. Outside the door was a sheer cliff, and surrounding it was nothing but pitch-black darkness. It was an endless void. Uijae froze in place, hand still gripping the doorknob. From somewhere behind him, he heard Sayoung’s voice.

"Hyung?"

‘What the hell is this?’

This didn’t make sense. If the outside world was like this, then what about the scenery they saw through the windows earlier? Where was the dungeon master? What was the actual boundary of the dungeon?

The sound of footsteps quickly approaching reached him, and then a wet hand wrapped around his waist like a snake. A solid chest pressed against his back, and a larger hand covered his on the doorknob.

Bang!

The door slammed shut. Uijae snapped back to reality just as a slightly labored breath brushed past his ear. Sayoung exhaled, resting his head briefly against Uijae’s shoulder before lifting it again.

"Are you out of your mind?"

"No, I just… did you see that? Did you see what was out there?"

"I saw it. And when the outside looks like that, you’re supposed to close the door right away instead of standing there like an idiot."

Sayoung's sharp voice cut through the air, but Uijae just stared blankly at the closed door.

This place was a *Memorial Dungeon* created from someone’s memories. The boundary of the dungeon…

Uijae murmured to himself,

"It’s this house…"

"What?"

"The boundary of the dungeon. It’s the house."

Only the house. A sense of foreboding crawled up Uijae’s spine. The dungeon was this house. In most dungeons, clearing it required killing the dungeon

master.

Which meant the dungeon master was inside this house…

‘No, no way.’

Uijae bit the inside of his cheek, trying to stop his mind from jumping to worst-case scenarios. He gripped the doorknob harder. That’s when his fingers brushed against something. His eyes widened. Sayoung, still holding Uijae’s waist, tugged him slightly.

"Why are you still standing here? Let’s go."

"Wait, hold on."

There was something etched beneath the doorknob. Uijae crouched down, examining the area more closely.

The mark was clear:

‘HYS’

It looked like an engraving of letters. Uijae traced the mark with his finger, muttering quietly,

"HYS?"

"HYS?"

"Yeah. It’s carved right here under the doorknob."

As soon as Uijae mentioned the letters, Sayoung clicked his tongue.

"That bastard’s initials. What the hell is his mark doing here…?"

"Whose mark?"

"...It’s a dungeon, right? Created from someone’s memories."

"Yeah."

"...Hong Yeseong can create dungeons, too. He can manipulate dimensions, so it’s not impossible."

"Hong Yeseong?"

The image of Hong Yeseong, with his annoyingly smug grin and thumbs-up, flashed in Uijae’s mind. He was an irritating guy, but undeniably talented. Sayoung crossed his arms, looking displeased as he explained.

"He’s obsessed with himself. He leaves his signature on anything he touches. If he thinks something he made is a masterpiece, he uses Chinese characters. If it’s just something he made for fun, he leaves his initials in English."

"So, if this isn’t just the doorknob he made…"

"Then this dungeon was probably created by Hong Yeseong. Or, to be exact, the Hong Yeseong of this world."

Sayoung pressed his temples, muttering under his breath.