J.
Jung Bin adjusted his grip on the phone and looked around. None of his team members were paying attention yet, but if he acted strangely, it was obvious they'd notice immediately. He needed to remain as natural as possible.
"...I see. Please wait a moment."
He wiped his face with one hand before standing up, grabbing the suit jacket draped over his chair. The rustling sound was loud and conspicuous.
"...."
A few of his team members glanced over at him with puzzled expressions. Jung Bin didnât offer an explanation but raised his index finger, pointing to the ceiling. Fatigue showed on their faces. Someone might have sighed.
With the phone wedged between his shoulder and ear, Jung Bin scribbled a note on some scrap paper and held it up.
âStepping out for a bit. Take a break.â
The team members nodded in acknowledgment. As soon as he left the office and opened the door to the emergency stairs, his pace quickened. His shoes clattered rapidly against the steps.
He needed a place without CCTV or anyone nearby who could overhear his conversation. Stopping on the stairs leading to the basement, Jung Bin took a deep breath.
Ordinarily, he would have ignored this. He wouldâve assumed it was another impersonator. Butâ¦
âJ is back.â
Did this person truly understand the weight of that statement?
Jung Bin rubbed the back of his phone with his thumb before inhaling deeply and speaking.
âSorry for the delay. You can speak now.â
âI guess you were with other people. You havenât clocked out yet?â
â....â
âItâs almost midnight.â
Hearing that distorted voice made something in Jung Bin's chest churn. Was it tension? Anticipation? But could he even call this anticipation? It was closer to anxiety, really.
Whether or not the person on the other end knew about these emotions, they continued speaking casually.
âTalking over the phone feels a bit insecure. Iâd prefer to meet in person. Are you available now?â
The person they had failed to track down, despite forming a whole search team, was now calling and suggesting a meeting? It was an unprecedented situation.
âAnd...â
Hong Yeseongâs words flashed in his mind.
âJ said this: âThe dungeon reconfiguration happened because of me, but I donât know why yet. Until I figure it out, Iâll only show up when absolutely necessary, like with the recent dungeon.ââ
âOnly when absolutely necessary.â It was a vague statement. Jung Bin quickly ran through recent events in his mind. Was there an emergency as dire as the S+ grade dungeon? The Prometheus infiltration of the Awakener Bureau was serious, but not necessarily something J would intervene in. So why? Jung Bin hesitated to respond.
â....â
âAre you really that busy? If so, I guess weâll have to forget about it.â
The distorted voice sounded disappointed. Jung Bin quickly replied.
âNo, Iâm available. Where should I go?â
âOh. Iâll give you an address. But come alone. Donât tell the director.â
The voice, as if expecting this response, began reciting a street address. Jung Bin wrote it down mechanically while thinking.
Prometheus had infiltrated deep into the Awakener Management Bureau. There was a chance this call could be a trapâhe couldnât rule it out completely. For the last eight years, ever since J vanished into the cracks, there had been countless people impersonating him. Most were trash not even worth dealing with, disappearing before they could cause much trouble.
âStill...â
Even the slightest possibility meant he had to go. It was his duty as the one left behind.
The address he was given was for a playground. On his way there, Jung Bin tried calling the number back. No answer. When he looked it up, it turned out to be a public phone.
"...."
Parking his car in a nearby alley, Jung Bin walked slowly toward the playground. The night was eerily quiet, not even the sound of insects. His lips were dry. Finally, the playground came into view.
A young man, wearing a black mask and a plain cap, was sitting casually at the base of a red slide. His posture was relaxed, arms resting on his knees.
He was wearing a thick jacket zipped up to his neck, black sweatpants, and a pair of slippers that revealed a glimpse of his ankles. If it werenât for the mask, he could have easily passed as an ordinary person, his attire so casual.
The streetlight flickered, illuminating the bugs buzzing around it. The air seemed still around the man, as if the very atmosphere had sunk in his presence. Noticing Jung Binâs approach, the man raised his head.
âOh.â
The distorted voice let out a brief sound of admiration. He nodded slightly, as if in greeting.
âLong time no see. I hope youâve been well.â
Jung Bin didnât respond. The tone was familiar, but he couldnât trust it so easily.
Was this really him? How did he get his number? If it was him, why was he showing up now? Why had he stayed hidden for so long? Why hadnât he contacted them earlier? So many questions arose, yet none of them had answers.
Fortunately, Jung Bin was skilled at masking his emotions and even better at extracting information.
He clasped his hands behind his back and smiled faintly.
âYes, itâs been a while.â
â....â
This time, the young man didnât respond. Jung Bin tried to recall Jâs physique from memory. He should have a similar build, though this man seemed a bit smaller. It was hard to gauge his frame while sitting on the plastic slide. The young man propped his chin up with one hand and muttered.
âHowâs your arm doing?â
âExcuse me?â
âYou hurt your right arm, didnât you? Back when you were protecting the kids from the golem.â
â....â
Jung Binâs eyes widened, though he quickly masked his reaction. The fact that his arm had been injured was widely known, especially on Channel 1. But the details of how it happened? Only someone who had been there would know. Still, it wasnât enough to be certain. There was a chance he had gotten this information from debriefings with Hong Yeseong.
The young man let out a long sigh.
âUgh, how does that guy manage to twist his words so much? Itâs exhausting.â
Stretching with a grunt, the young man stood up. He shoved his hands into his pockets, standing with a slight slouch. His black gaze swept over Jung Bin from head to toe, even lingering on the scar that peeked out from beneath his rolled-up sleeve. The young man shrugged.
âYouâve become more suspicious.â
âI apologize. Given the situation, I have to be cautious.â
Jung Bin lowered his head slightly. The young man wandered around in front of the slide, as if contemplating something, before folding his arms.
âShall we reminisce about that time we chatted on the outdoor staircase at HQ?â
Hearing mention of a familiar location, Jung Bin finally exhaled the breath heâd been holding. The tension in his shoulders eased. He rubbed his face with both hands and murmured.
âAh⦠youâre really him.â
âDid you think Iâd be an imposter?â
â....â
Jung Bin rubbed his face for a while, trying to calm his emotions before looking up suddenly.
J had said he would only appear when necessary. He had reached out to Jung Bin out of nowhere. Was something serious happening? He wouldnât have contacted him just to exchange pleasantries.
Jung Bin hurriedly asked.
âHas something urgent come up?â
âOh⦠that. Well, itâs not exactly urgent.â
The young man scratched the back of his neck.
---
The boy everyone thought was dead is alive, miraculously.
Even someone like Cha Uijae, who didnât believe in miracles, believed in one at the moment he held Lee Sayoung in his arms. In a dark, blood-soaked room, the two of them were the only ones breathing. The warmth of Sayoung pressing his head into Uijaeâs chest felt oddly comforting. If it were up to him, he could have held him like that forever.
Sayoung was the only proof that Uijaeâs life hadnât been a complete failure. He was precious, so much so that no amount of good words could fully capture it.
However.
âIâm tired.â
âI know.â
Being precious didnât change the fact thatâ¦
âSorry, Iâve got a guild meeting. Weâll talk later.â
âSure.â
munication was still an issue!
They had reunited after eight years. Even between friends or family, eight years would give them a mountain of things to talk about, let alone Uijae and Sayoung.
Uijae had a responsibility to learn everythingâwhat had happened to Sayoung during those eight years, how he got involved with Prometheus, and what kind of experiments he had endured. That was his duty as Sayoungâs protector!
But Sayoung, despite showing up at the soup restaurant every day, evaded any serious conversation like a slippery fish. He always had an excuse: guild meetings, dungeons, rifts, cleaning up guild membersâ mistakes, attending management meetings, and so on.
One day, when Uijae tried to stop him from leaving, Sayoung even pretended to be exhausted and clung to him. Uijae briefly suspected he had fallen victim to Jung Binâs chains again but chose to indulge him for the moment.
But there was a limit to everything.
On the day it had been exactly a week of Sayoungâs constant excuses, Uijae found himself crouched in front of the recycling bin, peeling labels off drink bottles, deep in thought.
If things continued like this, Sayoung might never open up
. Whoever he took after, he was annoyingly sensitive and stubborn.
At the moment, Cha Uijae had only one card left to play: Minggijeok. But if he asked Minggijeok for information on Prometheus, Sayoung would likely catch on and block it.
From his time as J, Uijae was all too familiar with being fed limited information. Of course, he knew how to deal with it. Would he have to settle for getting only small pieces of the puzzle forever? No.
âI need to find another informant.â
Uijae tossed the recycling bag aside, returned to the restaurant, and pulled out the *Hunter Basic Guide for New Hunters* that had only been opened a few times since it was gifted to him. He flipped to a page where a card was tucked like a bookmark.
It read:
**Jung Bin
Team Leader of the First Response Unit
Awakener Management Bureau**
---
The flickering streetlight cast a dim glow. Two young men, standing in the playground late at night, were tense as they faced each other.
Looking at Jung Binâs expression, a mix of confusion and nervousness, Cha Uijae finally spoke.
âGive me everything you have on Prometheus and Lee Sayoung.â He bluntly demanded classified information.