* * *
‘Would you like to proceed?’
The clasped hands grew increasingly warm.
The touch of skin spread a palpable heat.
To Seohwa, the most contagious thing in the world wasn’t sorrow or joy—it was warmth.
Wasn’t it fascinating that even when cold met cold, warmth could emerge?
“Kang Yigeon.”
“Yes.”
“Thank you for loving me. I’ve always been grateful.”
“…”
“And I’ve always been sorry. For not being able to return those feelings.”
“It’s fine. I already knew.”
Kang Yigeon murmured bitterly, “You don’t believe in love. You seem to care for people, yet you’re cynical about them. You act like you love the world, but you distrust its natural order.”
“You’re making me sound like a misanthrope.”
“Isn’t expecting nothing from humanity a form of misanthropy?”
“Let’s just talk about instant noodles instead.”
“How much do you know about me beyond being your aide? You’ve memorized my combat and mental stats, but do you know what I enjoy, how I spend my holidays?”
“Am I being scolded now? Five minutes feels longer than expected.”
“Even in a moment like this, standing at the edge of goodbye, you’re cruel.”
The time gauge had now dropped below a minute.
Judging by the quiet intensity in Kang Yigeon’s gaze, the regret and sorrow he wanted to express couldn’t be conveyed in under a minute.
A hundred years might not suffice.
Seohwa wasn’t particularly curious about how Kang Yigeon spent his weekends.
But since it was the end of the world, this much felt permissible.
“Alright, fine. Since it’s the last time… let’s say I loved you too. I love you, Kang Yigeon.”
Seohwa was surprised by his own words.
Kang Yigeon’s expression was one he had never seen before.
His broad chest heaved, his Adam’s apple bobbed, and his violet eyes trembled before brimming with tears.
The tone had been teasing, the words light.
Surely, he could tell.
And yet, Kang Yigeon looked utterly moved, as though his lifelong wish had just been fulfilled.
“Damn it… Even though I know it’s just a lie, I…”
Kang Yigeon embraced Seohwa tightly, his face a storm of conflicting emotions—regret, yearning, and something else altogether.
If their comrades had seen this, they might have momentarily forgotten their grim reality.
But everyone else was already dead, leaving no witnesses to their moment.
Held within Kang Yigeon’s firm, broad arms, Seohwa blinked.
He was dazed.
His brain couldn’t quite process the situation.
With 20 seconds left until the end, Kang Yigeon slightly pulled back to look at Seohwa.
His face was red, contorted with deep anguish, remorse, and helplessness.
Tears began to stream down his cheeks.
“In the next life.”
“…”
“No matter how many times this world resets, I will love you again.”
Seohwa thought to himself: ‘Even when he cries, Kang Yigeon is so handsome.’
And then, he had a realization.
‘I don’t like Kang Yigeon’s tears.’
What he liked most was Kang Yigeon’s smile.
The composed and stoic aide occasionally flashing him a faint smile.
That face was his favorite.
At this moment, Seohwa felt he could do anything to make Kang Yigeon smile.
“Kang Yigeon, if you truly love me in the next life…”
“…”
“Then maybe, I’ll try to believe in love too.”
As Kang Yigeon’s widened eyes met his, Seohwa added something Kang Yigeon had once said to him.
“After all, love is supposed to come after the end of the story, right?”
Kang Yigeon’s cheek twitched.
He seemed torn between enduring pain and suppressing joy, and finally, he smiled faintly.
“Yes. That answer is enough.”
Kang Yigeon cupped Seohwa’s cheek with his large hand.
As Kang Yigeon’s face approached his, Seohwa closed his eyes.
‘Would you like to proceed?’
No. I will reverse collapse.
”Flight of Time’ contracts.’
‘Moving to 26,280 hours ago.’
The past timeline rejects your presence to protect the world.
‘Forcefully entering the timeline.’
Calculating collision due to contraction…
‘2628026280’
Exceeded calculable values.
‘Flight of Time’ side effect activated!’
“Timeline Rejection” applied.
Application Time:
‘INFINITY’
.
.
.
“I’m starving.”
Seohwa opened his eyes—not for any significant reason, but simply because he was too hungry.
It felt as if a large hand were squeezing his stomach.
S-class Awakeners were free from bodily waste but not from the need for nutrients.
He needed food to survive.
Rising weakly, Seohwa groaned, clutching his stomach.
The interrogation room remained unchanged, with only a one-way mirror in front of him.
Most Awakeners wouldn’t sense the presence on the other side, but Seohwa could feel everything.
“It’s awakened.”
“Contact the Commissioner.”
“She’s already on her way.”
“It”? Really?
Not “he,” but “it.”
Seohwa scratched at the bandages on his arm, feeling an itch, and wrapped himself tighter in the blanket.
“Give me food.”
“…”
“I’m starving. Bring me some food. Instant noodles, or at least an energy bar. And water.”
The reaction from the other side was immediate.
“That demon dares…”
“Don’t respond. Damn it, my ears are rotting.”
Seohwa gave up.
He decided to wait for someone more reasonable to show up before asking again.
Lying back down, he rested his head on the pillow.
It had been a long time since he dreamed of his first timeline.
He rarely dreamed at all, so the memory left him feeling melancholic.
It was all so long ago.
A past that had already become an impossible time.
To forget the dream, Seohwa tried to picture not the past but the future.
But the future, too, eventually became the past, blurring the boundaries of time and leaving his thoughts jumbled.
After about five minutes, the voice of the most logical man Seohwa knew came through the speaker.
“Hunter Seohwa.”
“I’m hungry! Please, some water and food.”
“First, prove that you know the future. Tell us about an imminent dungeon event, and we’ll verify it…”
“I said I’m hungry. Even S-classes die after five days without food. Are you going to starve someone with future knowledge to death?”
“You’ve only been here for a day.”
“I’ve been starving for five days. I barely made it back here after struggling through a Level 6 dungeon. Don’t forget that.”
Kang Yigeon remained silent, while Director Kim Eunji of the Awakener Security Bureau and the heads of other departments sighed in exasperation.
“I just want to let him starve.”
“How can someone be so shameless after putting us all through this?”
Their voices carried faint resentment.
Seohwa waited patiently, trusting in Kang Yigeon’s judgment and self-restraint.
After all, he had spent 5 years and 12 additional years with Kang Yigeon in the previous timeline, building a solid foundation of trust.
As expected, Kang Yigeon eventually spoke.
“Bring him a nutritional meal and water.”
“…Yes, Vice Guild Leader.”
Seohwa blinked in surprise—not at the order itself, but at the title.
Vice Guild Leader Kang Yigeon?
In all the timelines so far, that had never happened.
He’d been a high-ranking official or a guild member before, but never a vice leader.
“I guess I’ll never see that Kang Yigeon again.”
It was only then that I realized this world was completely different from the previous ones he had known.
A moment later, a simple meal and bottled water were thrown in front of Seohwa.
Seohwa was too exhausted to care about his dignity, so he buried his face in the food and ate it greedily, like a dog.
His belly was so tight it almost felt like his skin was sticking to his back, but after finishing the meal, he had barely delayed starvation.
‘I wonder if they’ll give me dinner too.’
He hoped they would take care of it without needing to be told.
At his age, he didn’t feel like begging for food every time he was hungry.
Seohwa gulped down the water, then crumpled the plastic bottle in one hand and set it down.
A cold, detached voice came through the speaker.
“Now, prove it.”
“I need to wash up. As you can see, I’ve been covered in blood and dust for days. I’m feeling uneasy about it.”
“Proof first.”
“Please prepare some clothes too. I’ll be meeting high-ranking officials soon, and I can’t go out like this. Are you good at measuring? Or should I just tell you my body measurements?”
There was no answer.
Seohwa wrapped himself back in the blanket.
“Tonight at 6:02:30 PM, a grade 3 dungeon will appear in Gwangju. Despite being a grade 3, the time limit is unusually long and the boss monster is weak, so it could be useful as an herb dungeon. Tomorrow at 3:12:04 AM, a grade 2 dungeon will appear in the East Sea, but there will be casualties because fishing boats are in the area, so please be careful in advance. Then, about five hours later, at 8:49:10 AM, the first-ever grade 5 dungeon in Canada will appear in the southern part of the country. It would be good if you could contact them and evacuate the area beforehand.”
No one could predict when or where a dungeon would appear.
There were awakeners with foresight skills, but all they could predict was the terrain of the dungeon and what monsters might be inside.
The location and time of dungeon appearances could only be speculated through the artificial intelligence system, AlphaN, which was never 100% accurate to the exact second.
If Seohwa’s predictions were completely correct, it would be perfect proof that he knew the future.
“Oh, and congratulations, Team Leader Choi. The pretty princess.”
Seohwa winked.
This was a prophecy aimed at Team Leader Choi Jihyung of the Awakener Security Agency, who had turned off his voice after Seohwa asked for food, saying it would rot his ears.
* * *
Really interested in this thank you for translating
Good start so far!
thanks
Thank for the update