Even without a na, it was obvious who the handwriting belonged to. It had to be Lee Sa-young. Who else would call Cha Eui-jae ’you’ in such an informal way? Cha Eui-jae rolled his eyes.
’Now that I think about it...’
Lately, that brat had stopped calling him ’hyung’ and had started saying ’you’ instead, hadn’t he? Cha Eui-jae ran his fingertips over the handwriting in the notebook. Of course, there was no warmth to be felt from the ink. Even so, he awkwardly muttered to himself.
"...Your handwriting’s pretty neat."
He’d assud it would be as much of a ss as Nam Woo-jin’s. Maybe Jung Bin had taught him how to write properly. With that idle thought, he rummaged through the chaotic desk in search of a pen. He was about to write a response in the notebook when he hesitated.
’...Would it even get delivered if I wrote here?’
If it didn’t, he’d just end up looking like so idiot who scribbled [I’m watching] in Nam Woo-jin’s research notebook. But then again, Lee Sa-young probably wasn’t sure that Cha Eui-jae would see this either. The way he wrote [by any chance] suggested it was a long shot. In that case, Cha Eui-jae could afford to take a long shot too.
He glared at the neat handwriting Lee Sa-young had left behind. Then, picking up one of the crumpled sheets of paper lying around, he started an impromptu handwriting practice session.
[I’m watching.]
He held up his own writing next to the neatly written letters in the notebook. Compared to Lee Sa-young’s, his hastily scribbled words looked like they were written by a pair of worms.
"..."
No way. This won’t do.
Cha Eui-jae took a deep breath and tried again, putting effort into making his letters as clean as possible.
[I’m—wat—ching—...]
Snap!
The ballpoint pen broke clean in half. All he did was grip it a little tighter, but it snapped, and— of all places —it broke right at the double consonant, making it feel even more ominous. Cha Eui-jae stared in disbelief at the two pieces in his hands before shoving them into his pocket. Well, sorry about that, Nam Woo-jin. He grabbed another pen from the desk and carefully wrote again, one letter at a ti.
[I’m—wat—ching—...]
Crack!
Snap!
He broke three pens in a row before he finally understood— forced neat handwriting and flimsy ballpoint pens simply could not coexist. At the hangover soup restaurant, he always scrawled things ssily with a marker, so he had never realized this before.
"..."
And then another realization struck him.
That brat had seen his handwriting plenty of tis at the restaurant. There was no need to put in all this effort to make it look good.
Cha Eui-jae sighed, twirling the broken pen pieces between his fingers.
’Still...’
If I’m going to write it, I might as well make it look nice.
He ruffled his hair in frustration. Luckily, Nam Woo-jin’s lab was full of paper and pens— enough that breaking a few wouldn’t even be noticed. Cha Eui-jae grabbed a crumpled sheet and started writing the sa short phrase over and over. He kept at it until he was finally satisfied with how it looked.
[I’m watching.]
[I’m watching.]
[I’m watching...]
Before he knew it, the paper was completely filled with the sa sentence, packed tightly from top to bottom. Only then did Cha Eui-jae stop. If anyone saw this, they’d think it was so stalker’s letter.
’...Maybe I overdid it?’
As he scratched his temple with the back of his pen, he scribbled a slightly different phrase in the corner of the still-empty space.
[I miss you.]
Embarrassing words.
"...Damn it, what am I even doing?"
Cha Eui-jae crumpled the paper into a ball. His fingertips tingled. Even so, he didn’t throw it away. If anyone saw it, that would be a disaster.
’They’d think Nam Woo-jin has a stalker.’
He tossed the crumpled paper into his inventory with a flick of his wrist. Out of all the stupid things he had done in his life, this probably ranked near the top.
At that mont, a bright light glowed from the notebook. Cha Eui-jae hurriedly checked it. Beneath the neatly written letters, a new ssage had appeared, written in the exact sa handwriting.
[It’s okay.]
"It’s okay."
Cha Eui-jae murmured the words to himself. It’s okay. Who was saying that? Lee Sa-young? Cha Eui-jae? The subjectless sentence stirred countless thoughts in his mind.
Deep down, he already knew. Lee Sa-young must have written it to comfort him— so desperately that he scribbled it into a notebook, unsure if his words would even reach their destination.
But—
Cha Eui-jae ran his fingers over the writing before blurting out,
"I’m not okay."
Cha Eui-jae was—
"...Not okay at all."
He felt lonely. Because Lee Sa-young wasn’t here.
Cha Eui-jae gripped his pen and stared at the notebook. Lee Sa-young had waited for eight years, holding onto nothing but a pinky promise. He wanted to ask him—
How the hell did you endure it?
You had no guarantee that I would co back alive.
I know you’re out there, alive, and yet I feel this restless.
He wanted to spill every ounce of frustration onto the pages— fill them with curses and unfiltered emotions. But instead, Cha Eui-jae swallowed his restlessness and condensed it into a single sentence. The pen touched the paper.
A black line stretched across, forming letters, and those letters ford words.
[I miss you.]
A sentence he couldn’t bring himself to say out loud.
The mont the sentence was complete, Cha Eui-jae snapped the notebook shut with a loud clap, rubbing furiously at his masked face. It was just one line, yet it made his entire body itch. Just then, he sensed soone approaching the lab. Cha Eui-jae shot up from his chair.
Before the door even fully opened, a hoarse, irritated voice barked out,
"...So, the director sent you? What now, more nagging? I’ve told you at least a thousand tis—rushing won’t make it go any faster! What, do you want to write a damn explanation letter? Get a dical certificate? That’ll be fifty million won upfront!"
Blinding white light flooded in through the open door. Cha Eui-jae gawked. A pale face, crooked glasses, ssy white hair lazily tied up, sunken cheeks, a wrinkled and crumpled lab coat, hunched shoulders, a slouching back, and battered old Crocs shuffling on the floor. Standing in the doorway was, unmistakably, a zombie.
The zombie, having unleashed a tirade, took a deep breath and adjusted his skewed glasses. His burnt-out white eyes widened.
"...What the— J? When the hell did you get back?"
The boy standing beside him answered politely,
"He returned today, Master."
"You knew it was J and didn’t tell ?"
"I did inform you. However, you heard only that the director sent soone and assud it was another errand boy, so you ignored ."
"I did?"
"Would you like to repeat exactly what you said earlier, Master?"
"Forget it. Just give an energy drink."
The zombie took the tumbler from the boy, downed it in one go, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before asking,
"It’s been a while. You ca from an eroded dungeon, right?"
"Uh? Oh. Yeah."
"Then you must have seen sothing in there. Considering how long you stayed?"
"Uh... yeah, I guess."
The zombie strode forward and clamped a firm grip on Cha Eui-jae’s shoulder. A sharp, sterile scent mixed with who-knew-what chemicals flooded his senses. Those burnt-out white eyes glowed intensely— the eyes of soone completely unhinged.
With a lion’s roar, the zombie bellowed,
"Spill EVERYTHING! From start to finish!"
"...Huh?"
"This isn’t the ti to sit around! Get the whiteboard ready! Set up the recorder! You, start taking notes! Bring a chair, a table, water— move!"
"Yes, Master."
The boy moved swiftly, and in no ti, the chaotic lab transford into an impromptu conference room. Cha Eui-jae found himself being ushered toward a whiteboard. The boy shoved a dry-erase marker and an eraser into his hands. Before he could even gather his thoughts, the zombie had already seated himself with a recorder in hand, looking every bit like an eager student in the front row of a lecture hall.
"We start now. From the mont you entered the eroded dungeon to the mont you escaped— every last detail."
"...Huh?"
"Get on with it! There’s no ti to waste! Start talking!"
Behind Nam Woo-jin, the zombie, a dangerous aura flared— an unspoken threat that if Cha Eui-jae didn’t start the lecture right now, he might end up dissected with a scalpel. With a sigh of regret, Cha Eui-jae uncapped the marker.
’Fuck, forget practicing handwriting— I should’ve just run for it.’
However, regret always cos a step too late. With the boy’s video cara set up and an overly eager student staring expectantly, Cha Eui-jae had no choice but to begin his lecture, powerless to resist.
Completely unaware that the notebook had begun to glow.
***
Drip, drip, drip... The IV fluid fell, one drop at a ti. Ga-young yanked the thin curtain surrounding the bed aside with a rough motion. She turned to the man standing beside the bed and asked,
"Just to make sure~ she’s still not awake, is she?"
"N-no... There’s no sign of her waking up."
Ga-young inspected the bed. Lying there was Yoon Ga-eul. If not for the faint rise and fall of her chest, she could have been mistaken for a corpse— completely motionless.
Hoo. Ga-young let out a loud sigh, making sure the man heard it. Then, she grabbed a fistful of his hair, gritting her teeth as she whispered,
"You idiot... Just how much of the drug did you pump into her? Does it make any sense for her to be out cold for over a week? I told you to put her to sleep— not send her on a one-way trip to dreamland. Did I? Huh?"
"I-I’m sorry..."
"Oh~ You think ’sorry’ fixes everything? Must be nice! anwhile, they’re already miles ahead of us! There’s a limit to how much we can test on the believers, you know?"
Ga-young shoved the man away with force.
Thud— He collapsed onto the floor before scrambling to his knees, bowing his head. Ga-young stomped down on his knee. The man clenched his teeth.
"Wake her up sohow... Got it? I don’t care if you have to kidnap an Awakened. We need to at least hear what she’s learned so far."
"U-understood!"
"And if you can’t wake her up..."
Ga-young’s voice turned ice-cold.
"You’ll be used as material instead. Keep that in mind."
The man’s face turned deathly pale. He slamd his forehead against the ground, wailing, I’m sorry, I’m sorry... Ga-young ignored his cries and left the room. A researcher waiting by the door hesitantly spoke up.
"Ga-young-nim, perhaps we should ask the Seer for help..."
"The Seer? Hah."
Ga-young scoffed, pretending to dig her ear with her finger as she replied,
"What use is a person who does nothing but run their mouth? Forget it. I’d rather run another experint in that ti."
"B-but, Ga-young-nim...! If soone hears—"
"They’re all too busy singing hymns to pay attention~ Let’s get back to the lab."
From afar, the voices of people echoed. The believers, chanting in unison.
Ga-young clicked her tongue in irritation and turned her back on the praying masses.
***
"...ul."
"..."
"Yoon Ga-eul!"
"Y-yes?"
Yoon Ga-eul flinched and snapped her head up. A stunning beauty had leaned in so close that their faces were nearly touching. Eek! She let out a small yelp, leaning back. Honeybee giggled, placing her hands on her hips.
"What’s got you so lost in thought? We were talking, you know."
"A-ah, no... I thought I heard sothing."
"Heard what?"
"I don’t know... Sorry."
"No need to apologize. How much of the conversation did you catch?"
"Uh... Sorry."
"Look at you, completely spaced out. Here!"
Honeybee tossed sothing at her. Yoon Ga-eul instinctively caught it and checked— keys.
"What’s this?"
"What else? House keys."
"A house?"
"Yep. J’s house keys."
"Oh..."
Yoon Ga-eul trailed off. Honeybee’s gaze flickered toward soone standing behind her. There, leaning against the wall with arms crossed, was Lee Sa-young. His face was grim, murderous even. Lowering her voice, she whispered into Yoon Ga-eul’s ear,
"We made copies to share. So we can manage it together."
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