Quietly Hiding that I am a Man chapter 180- Fake Farewell

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The torrential rain began to form puddles at their feet.

At Jerome’s seemingly cold words, Jean’s gaze wavered.

After a moment of silence, Jean clenched his fists tightly.

“If I forget you, will you really be okay with that?”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Then what?”

“Think about it. I know everything about you now—what you like, what you hate.”

Jerome pulled something from his pocket.

Jean flinched at the sight of it: Maya’s pocket watch, now powerless, its hands stuck in place as if broken.

Staring intently at the unmoving hands, Jerome spoke.

“So there’s no need to overthink it.”

“…”

“I’ll just seduce you again.”

Jerome’s confident response left a moment of stunned silence. Jean squinted, questioning.

“That’s insane. How can you be so sure that the me who lost his memories will fall for you again?”

“Because I look damn good in anything I wear.”

Jean let out a faint chuckle, disbelief flickering across his face.

At that laugh, Jerome allowed himself a faint smile and stepped closer, gently brushing Jean’s cheek with the back of his hand.

“You’re finally smiling.”

“I’m not smiling.”

“Don’t be stubborn. You bawled your eyes out saying you didn’t want to break up, but now you’re smiling.”

“I said I’m not smiling.”

Jean shoved Jerome’s hand away brusquely.

Jerome stepped back without resistance, clenching his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white before releasing the tension.

The downpour gradually softened.

Jerome placed the broken pocket watch in Jean’s hand and spoke firmly.

“I’ll come find you.”

“When?”

“Anytime.”

“…”

“I’ll find you, even under the guise of coincidence… So don’t be sad.”

Between their clasped hands, a faint glow seeped out.

Even as Jean tried to pull his hand away, sensing the impending goodbye, Jerome didn’t let go.

Closing his eyes, Jerome began to chant, and a golden magic circle appeared beneath their feet.

When he opened his eyes again, he looked directly at Jean.

“You tend to eat too quickly.”

“…”

“Chew thoroughly so you don’t upset your stomach. Count to twenty before swallowing from now on.”

Jerome’s serious expression prompted Jean to mutter blankly.

“What… are you even saying?”

“And… what else? I thought of so many things, but now I can’t seem to recall them.”

Jerome pressed his thumb lightly against the back of Jean’s hand as if in thought.

After a pause, his eyes brightened as though he’d remembered something.

The clock-shaped magic circle at their feet slowly ticked toward the hour.

“Oh, right. Don’t drink straight from the bottle. Always pour into a glass.”

“I can figure that much out on my own.”

“When you’re engrossed in something, you tend to ignore your surroundings. Especially when you’re reading while walking—it’s dangerous, so stop.”

“Is that all you have to say to me as your parting words?”

Jean sounded hurt. Jerome, who had been gazing quietly at him, replied.

“It’d be a lie to say I never wished I hadn’t met you.”

“…”

“But if I hadn’t, my life would’ve been empty and lonely.”

Jerome’s voice carried a bitter sadness that made Jean’s expression crumble.

With only seconds left until their farewell, Jean struggled to find the right words.

His lower lip trembled before he finally spoke.

“Write me a book.”

“A book?”

“Yeah. If I try to take in too much information all at once after losing my memory, I might feel overwhelmed. So just tell our story like you’re recounting an old legend.”

Jean thought:

‘Even if my memories disappear, my soul won’t change. If my love for books remains, I’ll surely find and read it. It would make it easier for Jerome to reach me.’

Sniffling, Jean looked Jerome straight in the eyes, as if he had never been crying.

He gripped Jerome’s hand more tightly.

Seeing this, Jerome remained silent for a moment before bursting into laughter.

Slowly, he nodded.

“That’s a clever idea. Alright, I’ll do it.”

“…”

“And…”

As if wanting to say something more, Jerome hesitated.

The clock struck the hour, and with a resounding chime, a veil of light separated them.

Jean instinctively looked at Jerome’s face and froze.

A tear rolled down Jerome’s cheek—something Jean had never seen before.

“Huh… this wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Jerome muttered in a dazed voice, seemingly shocked by his own tears.

Then, with a sheepish smile, he wiped his face with the back of his hand.

“This is bad. I must really like you.”

“…”

“It’s unbearable to think you won’t remember me.”

Jean’s gaze fell on Jerome’s trembling hand.

Without a word, Jean stepped closer and wrapped his arms around Jerome’s neck.

Jerome, following his lead, hugged him tightly and whispered.

“I love you.”

Jerome made a silent vow.

For Jean’s sake, he would never allow a single lie into his life from this point forward.

And he fervently wished for Jean, even without memories of him, to never experience a moment of unhappiness.

As Jerome buried his face in Jean’s shoulder, he smiled more brightly than ever before in his life.

His eternal confession dissolved into the glimmer of light.

“I love you, Jean.”

✽ ✽ ✽

“After vanquishing Mephisto, the hero said, ‘I love you, Maya.’”

The children surrounding Jean gulped.

Their eager faces made him smile briefly before his gaze returned to the book.

The story had reached its climax, with only the ending remaining.

As Jen’s hand traced the words on the page, it paused.

The children, impatient for the next part, tugged at his sleeve.

After hesitating, Jean resumed reading aloud.

“…The hero and Maya defeated Mephisto, and Maya lost all her memories of the hero. But the hero knew—he would wait, hoping for the miraculous day they would meet again.”

“…”

“And that’s the end.”

Jean closed the book decisively.

The children’s faces filled with dissatisfaction.

Jean chuckled softly.

Whether child or adult, no one liked a disappointing ending to a long story.

“That’s so unsatisfying.”

“Seriously. After all that, that’s the ending?”

“They should find the author and give them a beating!”

Ignoring their complaints, Jean stood and waved them off.

“Alright, everyone. The library is closing now. Time to head home.”

“But… can’t you read us just one more book?”

“Yeah! Como walked two hours just to come here!”

The children’s eager voices made Jean hesitate briefly before he let out a sigh.

Eventually, he picked up another book, prompting the children to cheer with excitement.

After being held up late and finally getting away, Jean stretched his back as he stepped outside the library.

Just then, he locked eyes with Cheryl, who was walking into the library.

“Jean, were you here late again?” Cheryl asked.

“It’s hard to send kids home when they’re so eager to read,” Jean replied.

“Well, this is the only library on this remote island, so it makes sense,” Cheryl nodded as she put a cigar in her mouth.

Cheryl was not only the head of the library but also the person who had discovered Jean wandering along the shoreline with no memory of who he was.

She had offered him a chance to help her build the library together.

Though Jean couldn’t remember his age, origins, or past, he knew his name, thanks to a mysterious note found in his pocket.

Cheryl rummaged through her coat’s inner pocket and handed something to Jean, who accepted it with a puzzled expression.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“This month’s list of patrons. Once again, the Howard family is at the top.”

As Jean flipped through the ledger, his brow furrowed. T

he Howard family was a peculiar one, pouring astronomical donations into this isolated library.

Their generosity allowed the library to acquire rare, expensive books and serve as a welfare center, aiding refugee children with education and medical care.

Quietly, Jean muttered, suspicion evident in his voice.

“Why does the Howard family donate so much to a remote island library like this?”

“Well, who knows what goes on in a noble’s mind? Maybe the Duke’s late wife was a Sacre native,” Cheryl replied casually.

“…”

“By the way, Jean, have you remembered anything about where you came from?”

Cheryl’s tone turned probing.

Glancing at her briefly, Jean shook his head.

“No, I still can’t remember.”

Cheryl’s expression turned slightly wistful at Jean’s immediate response.

Sensing the subtle change in her demeanor, Jean felt a fleeting unease, but it passed as Cheryl extinguished her cigar against the wall and gestured toward him.

“It would be good if you remembered anything about your identity. You might even be able to find your family.”

“…”

“Anyway, since I’m here now, you should go home early. Tomorrow’s a rare day off—get some rest.”

Jean’s expression turned complicated at Cheryl’s words.

The one who most desperately wanted to remember who he was and where he came from was none other than Jean himself.

As Cheryl headed into the library, she stopped and called out to Jan, who was on his way home.

“Oh, by the way… The head of the Howard family is visiting tomorrow. How about stepping out briefly to greet him?”

Jean paused momentarily at her question, his beautiful face betraying a hint of hesitation.

After a moment of contemplation, he shook his head firmly.

“I need to go hunting to stock up on supplies tomorrow. Please convey my gratitude on my behalf.”

“Is that so? What a pity. Alright then, go on.”

“Okay.”

Jean pulled his cloak tightly around himself as he descended the snow-covered slope.

The unrelenting winter snow blanketed Sacre.

Gazing silently at the endless white expanse, Jean exhaled onto his frozen hands.

‘It’s so cold…’

Trudging through the knee-high snow, he finally reached the cabin Cheryl had provided for him.

Once home, Jean removed his cloak and approached the window.

His eyes landed on the wall beside it, densely marked with tally lines.

With a blank expression, Jean added another line.

It had been 492 days since Cheryl had found him.

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