Chapter 12
Chapter 12
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: Black-Haired Beast (2)
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Maybe I should just die once.
This body was under the system's control anyway, where death just rewound time or healed wounds to bring you back to life. So if he smashed his head with the pliers in his hand and died, couldn't that reset this situation?
Sa-yoon pondered executing that option for a moment before letting the thought go.
Time had never rewound except during forced executions. Come to think of it, if the system rewound time every time he died, it'd have its hands full.
It was a slim-to-none chance that this time would be different, and clinging to it would make him look like a lunatic to Han Geon-ju, who was flailing around like a newborn fawn.
Think about it. The guy who kidnapped him grabs the pliers, smashes his own head, and dies—who'd think, "Oh, he just likes suicide"? No, he'd look like a total psycho.
And then, with the system's forced recovery, he'd resurrect right in front of him. Sa-yoon was confident he could show something more realistic and horrifying than any horror movie Geon-ju had seen, no matter his personality or tastes.
But that was the problem—he couldn't do that.
The more he thought, the worse the outcomes got. He'd already marked himself as target number one for suspicion; no way it'd improve their relationship. He deleted the idea from his options, leaving nothing useful.
As Sa-yoon racked his brain, Geon-ju's eyes narrowed from across the table. His face shifted from hostility to suspicion. Before Geon-ju branded him a kidnapper-murderer in his mind, Sa-yoon felt he had to say something—anything—without a better plan.
"Pretty boy."
"...?"
Geon-ju's eyebrows shot up at the sudden nickname. Sa-yoon belatedly realized the problem with his choice, sensing question marks under the disheveled black hair.
This is why you shouldn't speak without thinking.
Over the past three months of calling him "pretty boy" nonstop, the term had stuck to his tongue without him realizing. At least it was a relief that worse slips—like calling him a bastard or that fucker—hadn't escaped. Still, "pretty boy" wasn't a great pick.
Geon-ju's gaze held an unfamiliar sleaziness now.
It was like he was looking at a pervert.
Should he deny it—"It's not what you think"—or keep a solemn atmosphere? As Sa-yoon scanned Geon-ju's face, debating, he finally took in the features he'd overlooked while fixated on his traits.
Up close like this, "pretty boy" didn't seem wrong. Even from a distance, his sharp features were quite handsome.
Especially for a guy, the long eyelashes and eyes—upturned in wariness yet oddly approachable—stood out.
The sweat-dampened hair strands, the clean forehead revealed where Jong-sik had roughly parted the bangs, and the sleek jawline that screamed handsome rather than innocent all evoked a kidnapped beauty—pathetic yet tense.
His bare face suited the earnest nickname "pretty boy." Sa-yoon mentally locked it in.
It was a unilateral decision, without Geon-ju's consent.
Calling him by name would be worse anyway. "Geon-ju!" out of nowhere? He'd suspect a background check. Getting labeled a stalker on top of kidnapper didn't appeal. Better the image of a pervert who called strangers "pretty boy."
How did I end up like this?
Amused by his fretting over a nickname—like he'd hit the jackpot with this new fate—Sa-yoon picked his next words. He'd at least diverted Geon-ju's attention, but with the pervert stigma, he had no clue what to do next.
Everything felt off. As suspicion crept back into Geon-ju's eyes, Sa-yoon's patience frayed after barely ten minutes.
Even villains gave heroes time to transform. This guy wouldn't even let him defend himself properly.
Impatient personality.
Real modern guy, Sa-yoon muttered inwardly, twitching the pliers in his hand. It was an unconscious habit when deep in thought.
Geon-ju, tied to the chair, flinched—mistaking it for a threat? Sa-yoon's superior dynamic vision caught it instantly.
This was a miss.
If this were some dating sim, that move just docked -10 affinity. Foreboding, he gestured to summon the quest window.
'Current Relationship: Hostile & Wary'
Sure enough, "Wary" had doubled up in the status.
At this rate, it'd pile on every negative word: hostile, wary, suspicious, terrified.
How the hell do you build rapport?
Sa-yoon was used to crushing with force and threats for submission—not sweet-talking for affection.
This was ridiculously hard. He gave up on being nice and gentle, tousling his hair.
The premise was cozy torture-chalet chit-chat. No fixing this now.
No manual either. Just wing it.
Thankfully, Sa-yoon knew the most natural line for situations like this.
The one he always spat out after dragging useful talent to the chalet.
"Wanna work under me?"
"...."
"If not, die."
"H-Hyungnim!"
Jong-sik panicked at the bluntness. Ignoring him, Sa-yoon glared coldly and checked Geon-ju's reaction.
Half the Night Rat joined this way. Kidnapping was kidnapping, confinement was confinement—you couldn't chit-chat names and numbers first.
Better show his true colors than act unnatural and raise suspicion. If it was already ruined, grab control.
Intimidation and threats.
That was enough. People always fell back on their strengths in crises.
Right?
Didn't normal people learn new skills?
He hadn't thought normally in ages—couldn't guess. Probably similar, he vaguely assumed, waiting for Geon-ju's reply. Then he noticed the gag and turned to Jong-sik.
"Untie him."
"...Yes."
Jong-sik eyed Sa-yoon suspiciously but peeled off the tape over Geon-ju's mouth and pulled out the cloth. Geon-ju gasped for air.
"Ha...!"
In the dank, musty underground chalet's silence, only his breaths echoed. Twitch. Sa-yoon flicked the pliers again—deliberately this time.
A prod: his patience was thin, so speak before things got ugly.
No real intent to harm, but the vibe helped negotiations.
Naive or sensitive? Geon-ju glanced at the pliers as intended, then lifted his head.
Their eyes locked in standoff. His silence didn't last.
"...Untie me first."
Calmer than expected. Sa-yoon figured a kid his age would demand names or curse once freed. Instead, a steady, pleasant baritone emerged from behind bitten lips.
He's got backbone.
Better than stupid. Satisfied inwardly, Sa-yoon nodded at Jong-sik, who sighed heavily and approached Geon-ju, glancing back.
'Hyungnim, you sure?'
'Beats me, punk.'
Exchanging looks, Sa-yoon swallowed anxiety behind his cool facade.
He was impatient. Terrified a nagging alert would blare: "Failed to gain trait holder's favor. The Resistor permanently disabled." Blue window and all.
This wasn't the last shot, though. Two trait holders: Supreme Under Heaven and Breaker of the Flow.
Fail Geon-ju, hunt the other.
If finding him hadn't taken three months, he'd be casual.
He'd ditched guild work, spamming skills till blackout—for 92 days. This guy was the prize. Chasing another was too risky.
Shouldn't have brought him here.
Messed up the first button big-time—like jamming it in the last hole.
Blame arrowed at Jong-sik. Sa-yoon signaled to hurry as he unwound the ropes and tape. His hands sped up.
A minute later, Geon-ju freed wrists and ankles from the chair. Tightly bound—marks remained.
Another deduction?
Sa-yoon's mind ran a full dating sim now.
-7 this time?
Scoring himself, he snapped to at Geon-ju's low groan while rubbing his wrists.
"Freed you. Answer, pretty boy."
His black eyes rolled as Sa-yoon tried kindly. Scanning the chalet like for escape, they settled on Sa-yoon—narrowing slyly moments later.
Quest window updated.
'Current Relationship: Hostile & Interested'
...Interested?
Sa-yoon cocked his head.
Only differences from "Hostile & Wary": freed limbs, threat-prodded talk.
Normal folks would feel fear or dread.
But interested?
Tracing what hooked him, a possibility struck.
One Night Rat got excited by insults. Another loved beatings. Masochists slipped in amid the crazies.
Experience as database fueled suspicion. Eyes narrowed.
Is this guy...
A perv?