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The Hunter's Gonna Lay Low-Chapter 203
Nam Woojin blinked slowly, his movements deliberate. Gaeul clenched her fists tightly.
“I—I don’t know if you’ll believe me, but... I’ve seen the previous world. It was a little different from ours, but... we were there, and the end came. J fought desperately against it... but he failed. And then he turned back time. He used the clock.”
“...”
“During the very last moment, the clock J was holding didn’t break. Since he was the last one who had it... if we can find that clock... couldn’t we turn back time too? We’d get one more chance.”
Gaeul’s voice was trembling as she finished speaking, her breath coming in gasps. Nam Woojin exhaled deeply. It seemed as if even breathing was a challenge for him, but he made an effort to respond.
“If that’s possible...”
“...”
“It would be a miracle.”
“...”
“And right now... we need a miracle. But...”
His white, burning eyes quietly took in the sight of Gaeul. Her clenched fists were trembling. Nam Woojin tilted his head slightly, his skeletal fingers twitching.
“You’re hesitating.”
Yoon Gaeul bit her lip, staying silent as Nam Woojin sighed, his breath ragged.
“Of course, you are. Turning back time means giving up on this world.”
“...”
“Well, let me give you my opinion.”
Nam Woojin clasped his bony hands together, the fingers so thin they almost looked like bone alone.
“We cannot give up on this world based solely on our judgment. People are still fighting against the end. We can’t just abandon them.”
Gaeul opened her mouth to speak but quickly closed it again. Nam Woojin nodded, almost as if he were dozing off.
“I understand what you’re trying to say. We probably won’t be able to defeat the end. The world will be destroyed anyway, so why bother fighting?”
“...Yes, that’s exactly it.”
“But.”
Nam Woojin rested his chin in his hand, a crooked smile forming on his gaunt face.
“I believe our failure will be the foundation for success.”
“...”
“The fact that you found a way here, that you’ve seen J turn back time, that means something. Even if it was a last resort.”
“...”
“So, we’ll keep that as our last option.”
His burning white eyes wandered for a moment before locking onto something. He was staring directly at Uijae’s position, or so it seemed. Could he actually be seeing him? No, that couldn’t be possible.
Finally, a bright smile appeared on Nam Woojin’s lifeless face. His dry lips moved.
“The end comes silently. It has no reason, no purpose. It simply arrives to take away the life of everything, as if it’s some natural # Nоvеlight # order. Like a calamity.”
“...”
“You can’t avoid it. But you can lessen the damage.”
“...”
“To figure out how to do that... we must fight until the very end.”
Nam Woojin’s skeletal hand pointed toward Cha Uijae. His whispered words struck like thunder.
“We’ll find out.”
Uijae’s eyes widened.
---
A loud honk blared through the air. Uijae gasped, suddenly jolted back to reality. The truck was now in the middle of a busy road, wedged between cars. It wasn’t the dark library anymore. Uijae quickly glanced to his right. Gaeul, who had been slumped over, groaned softly and blinked awake.
“Huh... what?”
She blinked her eyes and looked around before locking eyes with Uijae. Gaeul’s mouth dropped open, and she scratched her head.
“Did we... did we just see the same thing?”
“...Probably.”
Uijae stared blankly at the road, filled with traffic. Nam Woojin’s final words echoed in his mind, reverberating throughout his entire being. He instinctively knew.
Those words were meant for him.
*He was talking to me...*
Uijae’s grip tightened on the steering wheel.
---
A young boy, dressed in a white coat, hurried down a long hallway. Every person he passed nodded their head in respect, and the boy responded with a quick bow of his own. The deeper he went into the corridor, the fewer people he encountered. Once there were no more signs of life, he reached the end of the hallway, where a large metal door stood. The boy held up a card key to the recognition device beside the door.
With a heavy rumble, the door slowly opened.
Beyond the door was a massive prison.
In the center, a surgical table stood as the focal point. Cells surrounded it, each barred with thick iron rods. From one of the cells, a spiked hand shot out.
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“Hey, high five!”
A figure crouching in front of the bars slapped their hand against the outstretched spiked hand. A loud, guttural roar echoed through the space. Under the dim fluorescent lights, a man in a white coat with long white hair stood alongside a woman wearing a deeply pulled-down cap. The boy pulled a file from his coat.
“Master, a message from the Bureau has arrived.”
“Leave it over there.”
Nam Woojin gestured with his chin. The woman shrugged.
“I’ll tell you what it says. They want us to attend the assembly. Don’t skip it.”
“You got one too, I assume.”
“They probably sent it to all the regulars. Also, stop messing with those poor people and come over here.”
“They looked bored, so I was just playing with them.”
The man who had been crouching in front of the bars stood up. His light blue hair glistened under the lights. Gyu-Gyu, or Ban Gyumin, stuffed his hands into his fur-lined jacket pockets as he swaggered over.
“You know, I don’t think you can call them people anymore—”
*Shing!*
A sharp metallic sound rang out. The tip of a shining rapier was pressed firmly against his neck. Honeybee’s eyes gleamed with a dangerous light. Gyu-Gyu raised his hands in surrender as Honeybee’s low voice warned him.
“You’d better watch that mouth of yours...”
“...Almost slipped up. My bad?”
Nam Woojin, busy working with his hands, snapped irritably.
“Stop fighting, idiots. You’re breaking my concentration.”
“Ah, sorry.”
“...”
Honeybee sighed and retracted the rapier. Nam Woojin clicked his tongue in annoyance, his hands resuming their quick movements. The person lying on the surgical table, bathed in pale light, was Mok Taeo. Though his body was covered in spikes, he still retained a vaguely human form.
Honeybee chewed nervously on her thumbnail.
“...How is it? Any progress? Do you think it’ll work?”
“...”
“I used everything I got from Sayoung’s list. I scraped together as much as I could. If this doesn’t work...”
“Honeybee.”
Nam Woojin sighed and straightened up.
“Don’t rush things. Nothing good will come of it.”
“But...”
Honeybee mumbled, looking defeated, before letting out a big sigh. She then slapped both her cheeks hard, the sound echoing through the room.
“No, you’re right, Doctor. Sitting around like this won’t wake up Mok Taeo.”
“...”
“I’ll go now. I have to prepare for the assembly. I’ll leave Mok Taeo in your hands.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got this.”
As she turned to walk toward the heavy metal door, Honeybee glanced back. Gyu-Gyu was still standing in place. She frowned.
“Why aren’t you coming?”
“Huh? I’m going too?”
“The contract’s not over yet. Come on!”
“Fine, fine. I’m coming.”
Gyu-Gyu nodded at Nam Woojin and then followed Honeybee out. With a heavy clang, the metal door slammed shut. The boy, standing a few steps away, asked.
“Is there anything I can help with?”
“No, not right now.”
“Are you okay?”
“...Yeah.”
Nam Woojin coughed softly, his shoulders shaking.
“Something feels off...”
The boy’s clear eyes shone as he waited for Nam Woojin to continue.
Nam Woojin held his hand up to the ceiling light. His skin looked like that of a mummy, so thin and tight that it clung to the bones beneath. He blinked slowly. The next moment, his hand seemed perfectly normal again. Was it just a hallucination? A trick of the light? He gestured for someone to come closer. A small presence approached him.
“How do I look?”
“You’re 178 cm tall, thin, with white hair, long hair, glasses, white eyes, and a slight hunch...”
“No, no. Not that.”
Nam Woojin opened and closed his hand. It was mummified once again. Or was it just his eyes deceiving him? He turned around, looking at the boy who stood waiting for further instructions. With his arms outstretched, Nam Woojin asked.
“Do I look like a mummy to you?”
“No, Master. You’ve lost about 300 grams since last week, but there’s been no change in your appearance.”
“...I see.”
“Is something wrong?”
“Maybe.”
Nam Woojin looked around and picked up a scalpel, using it to inspect his reflection. The image staring back at him was that of a dried-up skeleton with skin stretched taut across his bones, sunken eye sockets, and eyes that still burned with a bright white flame. He muttered to himself, almost in a sigh.
“Whatever it is, something’s gone terribly wrong.”