Chapter 77

“Most likely,” Hae-gun confirmed.

Chaeyoon turned an earnest gaze back to Eui-rim. “Do we truly have to erase every mark? Can’t we bypass them and sprint straight for the Core Room to break the dungeon?”

“Given the fate of the rescue team, that is likely impossible,” Eui-rim answered firmly. “The exit portal will not activate while the anomalous domain remains intact. We must sever every parasitic anchor to restore standard dungeon laws.”

Furthermore, outside these walls lay the hospitalized host acting as a dimensional beacon. Though Eui-rim had bought seventy hours with 〈Rewinding Hand〉, failing to cleanse all five anchors in time would bring forth the apocalypse far earlier than in the previous timeline.

“Now that everyone understands the stakes, prepare yourselves. The moment we erase the sigil, the next horde will spawn.”

Hae-gun patted Son Chaeyoon’s shoulder lightly, gesturing with his chin toward Yoo Tae-geun’s leg. “If you can walk, on your feet, Hunter Yoo. The faster we cleanse this place, the higher your team’s odds of survival.”

“Understood,” Yoo Tae-geun replied.

Pushing himself upright, Yoo Tae-geun extended his hand, summoning a massive double-bladed battle axe from his inventory. Seeing his signature weapon for the first time in years, Eui-rim caught the veteran’s gaze.

He looks like he has a thousand questions to ask.

Given that Eui-rim had resigned from the clinic without contacting him once, it was only natural Yoo Tae-geun was desperate to understand what had transpired.

Yet this was hardly the time or place. Unable to divulge the truth anyway, Eui-rim feigned ignorance and looked away.

“I have much I wish to ask… but I will save it for later,” Yoo Tae-geun whispered, stepping alongside Eui-rim. Though complex emotions troubled his gaze, he reined in his curiosity with disciplined restraint.

Wise as always. Eui-rim had shared the mission details precisely because he trusted Yoo Tae-geun’s professionalism.

“Eui-rim-ssi. Aren’t you going to cast your skill?”

Startled by a sudden warmth wrapping around him from behind, Eui-rim turned to find Hae-gun smiling faintly, an arm slung heavily over his shoulder.

Why is he draping his arm over me like this? Since when were we on such casually physical terms?

“We need to hurry. We’re running on a clock,” Hae-gun murmured close to his ear.

“…I was just about to. Everyone, please clear the perimeter,” Eui-rim replied.

Uncomfortable with the heavy weight pinned against his shoulder, Eui-rim tried to slip free, but it was futile. Hae-gun’s arm was like an iron bar, unyielding against his subtle squirming.

…Seriously, he acts so strange at times.

Giving up on escaping Hae-gun’s hold, Eui-rim closed his eyes, only to hear a muffled snicker. What is so funny? Why is Son Chaeyoon giggling behind her hand?

The moment this raid concluded, clearing up Chaeyoon’s absurd misunderstanding would be top priority. Why on earth had everyone taken the nonsense he blurted out in frustration so literally? Even if Kim Si-hoon was deranged, the others should have possessed better sense. Did they genuinely believe Hae-gun was his romantic type?

No. Before that, why doesn’t Hae-gun look remotely displeased? Didn’t he explicitly state he had no interest in men?

Despite the flurry of chaotic thoughts, the activation took hold smoothly. Seeing the digital counter lock at three minutes, Eui-rim exhaled a quiet breath of relief.

Casting is effortless when I don’t restrict the directional boundaries. With virtually zero mana drain, as long as Seo Hae-gun stands by my side, I could maintain this freeze indefinitely.

By the way.

“Seo Hae-gun-ssi. I need to retrieve my weapon.”

Eui-rim had discarded his hunting knife by the entrance when deploying the medical supplies. To destroy the occult sigil, he had to cut it with his own hands.

Yet Hae-gun did not lift his arm from Eui-rim’s shoulder. Instead, his gaze darkened, his expression turning heavier and unreadable, casting an eerie chill over the silence.

“…What is it?” Eui-rim asked, cautious.

“That surgical procedure earlier—where did you learn it?” The grip on his shoulder tightened slightly. “That wasn’t the technique of someone who has only attempted it once or twice.”

Ah.

A faint sigh slipped past Eui-rim’s lips. Because Hae-gun had let so many bizarre anomalies slide without pressing for answers, Eui-rim hadn’t anticipated an interrogation here.

Of course he would wonder. In truth, it is astonishing that he has waited this long. In a labyrinth riddled with impossible secrets, how difficult must it be to swallow one’s questions and trust blindly?

Remembering how violently Hae-gun had cornered him on Mount Gamak, Eui-rim had to admit the S-rank was showing unprecedented leniency.

“Former clinic healers aren’t proficient with field trauma sutures. They either cast divine spells or defer to surgical teams,” Hae-gun pressed, his dark navy eyes locked onto him. “Yet every motion you made was pure muscle memory. You moved without a heartbeat of hesitation—like someone who had performed that exact amputation dozens of times.”

Tilting his head, Hae-gun leaned down slightly, his gaze piercing. Slowly letting his arm slip from Eui-rim’s shoulder, he stepped back and asked, “You have weathered this exact nightmare before, haven’t you?”

After a second of silence, Eui-rim gave a quiet nod. Having executed the procedure with instinctive precision, feigning ignorance now was pointless.

“Yes. I have.”

There was a time when I had to sever and reattach human limbs multiple times a day. When rationed potions ran out, I channeled healing energy directly into raw stumps, spending endless days cutting, joining, amputating, and stitching the broken bodies of dozens of people over and over again.

Yet no matter how fiercely I struggled, I could not halt the slaughter.

The comrades I stitched back together with my own hands were caught in the gaze of those cyclopean entities again, butchered and pulped until not a recognizable bone fragment remained.

“Is a full explanation still out of the question?” Hae-gun asked. When Eui-rim remained silent, a dry, bitter chuckle escaped him.

Is his patience finally reaching its limit? That would be entirely justified. This wasn’t a mere statistical anomaly on a status window; he had witnessed a living Fragment of the Origin with his own eyes. Feeling anxious and cornered was only natural.

“…Because if I speak,” Eui-rim whispered, agonizing over every syllable, “the balance will shatter.” To alleviate Hae-gun’s mounting dread, he stepped across the forbidden line as far as he dared.

Confronted with an answer from someone who had always evaded with ‘later,’ Hae-gun’s lips pressed into a tight line.

Watching Eui-rim retrieve the hunting knife from the floor, Hae-gun asked in a voice that dropped into a raspy hush, “What do you mean? The balance shattering?”

“It means the cosmic order of balance will rupture, quite literally,” Eui-rim warned. “If that occurs, a catastrophe infinitely worse than this dungeon will engulf us…”

Kzzzzzt

A violent burst of static shrieked in Eui-rim’s ears. As if executing an immediate punitive strike, his status window flashed a blinding crimson, agonizing white noise drilling into his skull.

The section vibrating with manic intensity was his status penalty log. Emblazoned in pulsing blood-red text was 〈Price of Crossing Timelines〉—an unmistakable, lethal ultimatum: Silence your tongue, or face immediate execution.

It isn’t an empty hallucination. With the Scales and Gatekeepers observing my timeline, this is an active threat.

“Alright. Stop talking,” Hae-gun commanded sharply.

Startled by a sudden touch, Eui-rim flinched back, only for Hae-gun’s hand to catch his chin while his fingers brushed the tip of his nose. What is he doing? First draping his arm over me, now grabbing my face?

“You’re bleeding,” Hae-gun said.

Glancing at Hae-gun’s hand, thick scarlet blood was smeared across his fingers. Damn it. Eui-rim lowered his head. Just as Hae-gun said, warm blood was streaming steadily from his nostrils.

Fuck. I got the message from the warning prompt. Did they really need to enforce a physical hemorrhage?!

“Cancel the skill. Let’s administer a potion immediately,” Hae-gun urged, his tone taut with concern.

“No. I’m fine. It isn’t heavy bleeding.”

Eui-rim shook his head carefully, avoiding sudden motion. Unlike the previous trauma where blood had poured simultaneously from his eyes, nose, and mouth, a simple nosebleed could be managed in minutes. It was merely an annoying inconvenience.

A deep, frustrated sigh fell from above. Brushing Eui-rim’s hand aside, Hae-gun pressed a pad of sterile gauze firmly against his nostrils, having swiftly pulled it from the first aid kit.

“I can manage it myself,” Eui-rim mumbled through the cotton.

“Be quiet and hold still. Don’t tilt your head until it stops. I take full responsibility for this.”

Wondering what he meant, Eui-rim looked up, only to be met with a sharp, scolding click of Hae-gun’s tongue. Only after Eui-rim lowered his eyes did Hae-gun ask in a hushed, self-reproachful murmur, “This happened because I pressed you with useless questions, didn’t it?”

“Mm… no. It’s because I divulged forbidden information.”

“It amounts to the exact same thing. Either way, you took a penalty on my account.”

Hae-gun’s other hand cradled the nape of Eui-rim’s neck, the palm warm and gentle against his skin. Trying to ignore the electric prickle spreading across his scalp, Eui-rim flicked his eyes upward.

“Still, hemorrhaging like this isn’t normal by any standard. Between this and the incident at the hospital, are you truly unhurt?”

“Yes. I am completely fine.” It isn’t as if my internal organs ruptured, after all.

“…Unbelievable. At this rate, you’d probably claim you were fine with a hole bored through your gut. Are your pain receptors completely burned out?”

“Of course not. I despise physical agony just as much as anyone else.”

Eui-rim simply saw no reason to cause a panic over a minor nosebleed.

At his dismissive shrug, the fingers cradling his nape tightened slightly. Feeling the possessive grip, Eui-rim hunched his shoulders, prompting Hae-gun to click his tongue in self-derision.

“If I lose my temper twice around you, I’ll end up sending someone to an early grave.”

“A temper? Toward whom? Me?” Eui-rim asked, blinking.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I was irritated.”

Is he entering a second adolescence on the brink of thirty? Why get irritated out of nowhere?

“What made you irritated?”

“I don’t know myself. It simply flared up out of nowhere.”

Hearing such childish honesty, an incredulous laugh burst from Eui-rim. As if realizing how petty he sounded, Hae-gun let out a low chuckle, his thumb gently caressing the base of Eui-rim’s skull.