Chapter 89: Han So-hee (2)

Day five.

Just before the aurora returned, we ate to save time.

To regain strength, I forced down monster meat.

Chewing, I grumbled.

“Monster meat never gets easier.”

“Eaten it often?”

So-hee, head covered with the centipede’s shell, swallowed her bite and asked.

Seeing yesterday’s underground monster made her uneasy about the meat’s source, but she ignored it.

If Ho-cheol ate it, whining seemed silly.

Gagging at the foul smell, she held it in.

I shook the remaining meat, answering briefly.

“Not often, but as a villain, sometimes? No food, you eat what’s there.”

I recalled an embarrassing memory.

“When I started as a criminal, I was weak. Hide in gates a lot. No food there—just scavenge.”

I nearly died eating poisoned stuff a few times.

“Is that possible?”

“Back then, lawless zones were everywhere.”

Gates were often left unconquered, their resources exploited.

Those gates were beyond heroes or authorities, so I used them.

But some villains never returned.

Even tightly managed gates couldn’t clear all monsters.

Hunters roaming them weren’t gentle heroes—money-crazed maniacs fit better.

I was lucky.

Weak back then, but I survived.

“Early days, huh.”

So-hee set down her meat, lips pursed, thinking.

After hesitating, she spoke cautiously.

“I…”

“What?”

She fidgeted with her fists on her knees, then clenched them, resolved.

“I never saw you as a villain, but I don’t think you’re the type to commit those crimes.”

She knew from my records.

My first official crime: murder.

The victim—a hero.

I was fourteen, barely a teen.

A harsh label for a kid.

She’d been terrified before meeting me, even writing a will the night before.

I didn’t know.

“Maybe, like with Choi Da-yeon, it’s a misunderstanding piling up. That’s what I think.”

She’d avoided this topic for the same reason we never used names—it crossed the delicate line between villain and minder.

But now it is different.

“Misunderstanding.”

I trailed off.

It wasn’t bad.

She was my closest companion since release, believing in me.

As a villain, “trust” didn’t exist.

But unlike her hope, my record held no mistakes.

I recalled that day.

My first crime, when plain Jeong Ho-cheol awoke as a villain.

Over a decade ago, but vivid.

Torrential rain, black umbrellas closing in.

A flower fell, crushed under boots.

The torrent of emotions, the feel of a blade piercing flesh.

I still remember.

I thought I’d reformed, shed the past, but that day’s memory was hard to digest.

Seeing my expression, So-hee apologized quickly.

“S-Sorry, you don’t have to talk if it’s bad.”

“Nah, I’d tell you. It’s you, So-hee.”

But just as I opened up, I backtracked.

“No, I won’t.”

My past wasn’t just a villain’s tale—it touched this country’s darkest corners.

For a mere agent like So-hee, knowing even a fragment could endanger her life.

Even if I protected her, she might not endure.

Puzzled by my shift, she asked?

“Why?”

“You’re fine, clueless. Knowing more won’t help.”

“What’s that!”

Ignoring her protest, I waved.

“Done eating? Let’s go.”

* * *

Day six.

We should’ve reached the gate’s center, but So-hee’s collapse delayed us.

We didn’t make it before the aurora faded.

Preparing camp, I scratched my head, annoyed.

“Why not just sleep?”

So-hee’s insistence on taking the first watch gave me a headache.

A patient playing guard?

She wouldn’t budge.

“Four nights in a row? It’s not about usefulness—it’s reckless!”

She crossed her arms in an X.

If she were still sick, she might’ve relented, but two days of my near-devoted care dropped her fever and restored her condition.

Avoiding the aurora’s light helped most.

Unable to break her stubbornness, I grumbled, lying down.

“We’ll talk outside.”

“Stop nagging and sleep.”

She glanced at me, waiting until I slept.

Minutes passed.

Thinking I was out, she whispered near my ear.

“Sleeping?”

Normally, no reply.

But—

“Mmm.”

I mumbled.

She jumped, silent.

Awake?

But I just stirred.

“…Sleep-talking?”

Hand on chest, she sighed in relief.

I mumbled again.

Curious, she leaned closer, ear to my mouth.

“Don’t get sick. Why’re you sick…”

“My name?”

Her lips curled.

Thinking I worried about her in my sleep made her smile.

Hoping she was the dream’s star, she whispered.

“Who shouldn’t be sick?”

“Han So-hee, that troublemaker… Say you’re sick first…”

Her smile widened.

It was her!

Breathing heavily, she stared at sleeping me.

Aurora's fever was gone, but being near me heated her up.

Her mind fogged, brain melting.

She whispered.

“Jeong Ho-cheol.”

After calling my name yesterday, no hesitation remained.

“Ho-cheol. Wake up. Ho-cheol.”

Like making up for lost time, she repeated my name, each whisper tingling with forbidden thrill.

After a hundred calls, she kept going, staring at me.

Her heart pounded, breaths hot and ragged.

Her head burned, rationality melting.

Checking no one was around, she lowered her head.

Yielding to desire, she acted.

Her hands reached for my wrist, moving it to open my arm.

She nestled her head on it.

The muscle against her head was firm.

She looked at the sky, then turned, gazing at my profile.

She shouldn’t sleep—she was on watch.

Time to check the surroundings.

But her eyes wouldn’t leave my face.

Her head burned, heart racing.

* * *

Day seven.

We reached the gate’s center.

In the wasteland, a massive sinkhole appeared, dozens of meters deep, kilometers wide.

At its center, a giant orb floated.

So-hee, off my back, shouted brightly.

“That’s it! The core, right?”

“Yup.”

Unlike her bouncing excitement, I was calm but relieved inside.

If this was wrong, we’d be screwed.

A week in, time was tight.

If the core wasn’t here, finding it was near impossible.

The only option left: smash everything until the gate collapsed—a suicidal move with no survival odds.

Still giddy, So-hee asked?

“How do we get out with the core?”

“Simple. Smash it. But…”

My gaze dropped below the core.

Even from this distance, its presence was clear.

“Only if that thing lets us.”

I sighed softly.

Nothing ever went easy.

“That thing?”

Rumble—

Her question triggered a violent quake, more earthquake than tremor, lasting long.

So-hee grabbed me to balance.

As it stopped, a red glow flashed from the cracked earth.

I gave a hollow laugh, stunned.

“Not a subway—what the hell.”

A centipede monster, too massive for words, emerged.

This sinkhole was likely its lair.

It hadn’t noticed us, but reaching the core meant passing it.

“Looks tough.”

I glanced between the core, the centipede, and So-hee.

Its size drowned out smaller presences.

If another monster attacked her while I dealt with it, deep underground?

My protection had limits at this distance.

After the last mess, repeating it would be dumber than the centipede.

“Better keep her close.”

Muttering, I turned to her, dazed by the monster’s grandeur.

“Trust me?”

The sudden question puzzled her.

“I do, but why—ahhh!”

Before she finished, I grabbed her waist and jumped into the sinkhole.

Her scream echoed endlessly.

“Eeeeek!”

Halfway down, I drove my arm into the wall.

Crunch!—

A brutal deceleration stopped us, and I landed lightly.

The centipede reacted to the intruders.

Its reddish shell gleamed, each of its dozens of legs human-sized.

Sharp teeth on its head spun like a chainsaw.

Black liquid dripped, sizzling as it melted the ground.

Hiss—

Big and venomous.

I moved sideways slowly; the centipede turned its head, tracking me.

Shaking So-hee’s waist lightly, I asked?

“Not passed out?”

Her half-dead voice replied.

“Halfway.”

“Don’t. I’ll protect you. Hold my neck tight. And try not to scream.”

“Okay.”

Too scared to look at the centipede, she shut her eyes, clinging to my neck.

I tapped the ground lightly and charged.

Target: the core.

The centipede moved, uncoiling, covering dozens of meters to crush me.

I dodged sideways.

Boom!—

The spot I’d stood on shattered, a massive crack forming.

“So fast for its size.”

Pulling back, the centipede returned to the core, wrapping its rear around it.

Defense over attack.

Getting to the core without killing it looked tough.

To avoid bursting So-hee, heavy strikes or fast moves were out.

But it was fine.

Just a bug.

As I approached, it charged again.

I leaped, dodging, and landed on its back.

Touching it confirmed—

Its shell was too tough for even me to break easily.

“Too many gaps.”

Crouching, I jammed my fingers into a segment’s joint.

With force, I tore it off.

Rip—

Red flesh exposed.

“It’s big, but two hits?”

I raised my fist.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.