Chapter 48: The Rabid Dog and the Mark

#48

‘Could this truly be a coincidence?’

Han Dokyeom let out a soft laugh. It was utterly improbable. Given how diligently that man had followed his novel, a chance encounter seemed impossible.

Whether it was a veiled challenge or an attempt to plunder more, observing Ju Uiryeong now only confirmed that he had devoured Dokyeom’s story with fervent dedication. ‘He certainly went to great lengths to boost my view counts.’

****

Kang Taesan had been mentioned numerous times throughout the novel. Dokyeom pondered deeply, trying to recall any passages that might have stood out.

Then, after a long moment of contemplation, a forgotten line from the novel flashed through his mind. It spoke of Kang Taesan, immediately after awakening as a Hunter, frequenting “lower-tier Gates” across Seoul to adapt to his newfound powers.

Ju Uiryeong, who possessed a reader’s vivid recollection of the various characters, likely had a clearer memory of their individual paths than Dokyeom himself. It was highly probable that he was already focusing on Kang Taesan’s movements.

The reason for Ju Uiryeong’s presence, claiming to be an official while wandering from Gate to Gate, was now glaringly obvious.

‘He’s laid a trap, waiting to seize Kang Taesan.’

‘Even so, what are the odds of us meeting precisely here?’

****

By now, the bread had been entirely devoured. Dokyeom dusted off his hands and scanned his surroundings.

‘There must be other officials here besides Ju Uiryeong.’

As expected, the moment his gaze drifted towards the association officials, his eyes met someone else’s. It was a dark-haired man, his eyes hollow, a meaningless smile playing on his lips.

He was a familiar figure, as if emptiness itself had taken human form. The precarious aura he exuded was identical to the day they had first met before a Gate.

He appeared calm yet sharp, languid yet utterly vigilant.

It was Geon Ita, the protagonist of the novel.

Suddenly, the man’s lips parted.

‘That bastard, huh?’

As their eyes locked, the tired-looking corners of his eyes curved upward. ‘Oh, for crying out loud.’ Dokyeom scoffed, then swiftly poured and drank his milk.

Apparently disregarding the association officials’ words, Geon Ita’s broad shoulders turned entirely towards Dokyeom.

He then gestured with his chin, pointing in front of him, as if beckoning Dokyeom closer.

‘Should I come to you, or will you come to me?’

As his chugged milk carton emptied, Dokyeom tossed it into the trash with a forceful thrust, then wiped his mouth with his arm. His gaze remained fixed on Geon Ita.

“I’m just going to the restroom for a moment, Agon. You stay here.”

Handing Agon a bottle of water, Dokyeom advanced towards Geon Ita with a combative stride. He seized Geon Ita’s arm and pulled him around the nearest corner.

From nearby, the association official’s voice rose in a frantic “What, what…!”

As soon as he cornered Geon Ita against the wall, Dokyeom slammed his hands against it, asking with an unnervingly sweet smile, “Why are you calling people over while they’re eating? And with those crazy eyes, no less.”

“My eyes are crazy?”

The words that slipped from his faintly smiling lips were low. Geon Ita’s eyes curved in a gentle, almost affectionate smile.

‘His personality might not seem that way, but no. I have to admit it. Anyone can see he has a rather nasty disposition.’

“Do you want to get hit with bread? With eyes like that?”

“I’m more curious why you’re here.”

“I was deployed as a guerilla unit to launch an attack,” Dokyeom retorted.

Geon Ita tilted his head, meeting Dokyeom’s gaze leisurely. Then, with a mocking whisper, he added, “Ah, for money?”

Unlike Taeseongyeon, Geon Ita was not a particularly generous person. Moreover, at this point in time, Geon Ita’s nerves were dangerously frayed and thin.

If his mood was ever disturbed, his hands would inevitably become stained with blood. Having only learned to fight, he knew nothing else and was a selfish individual incapable of showing consideration for others.

Yet, Dokyeom confronted him so boldly because he possessed a sliver of certainty. Geon Ita, under the influence of Dokyeom’s skill, was ultimately powerless to harm him.

While Dokyeom didn’t yet know the full extent of the “attack” range, he wondered if it might encompass all actions deemed a “threat.”

No sooner had that thought crossed his mind than his vision blurred. In an instant, Dokyeom’s body was flipped by a powerful force, and his back met the unyielding wall. Their positions had reversed in a flash.

“Ugh…!”

A bone-crushing pain flared in his wrist. By the time he recognized the source of the agony, Dokyeom was already pinned against the wall, trapped within Geon Ita’s arm. Before his eyes, Orias’s message glowed white.

[‘Orias,’ the demon of ‘Lemegeton,’ snarls at the opponent.]

Through his hazy vision, Geon Ita’s face, tilted at a jaunty angle, came into view.

“Even a wildcat behaves more gently than this. Go learn some manners. Oh, and you’ve got some unknown punk clinging to your side now, too?”

His silent, mirthless smile created a strange disharmony with his sharply defined features. Gazing at Geon Ita’s strong, tilted neck, Dokyeom belatedly grasped the meaning of his words.

‘No, this bastard!’

Dokyeom’s eyes immediately flashed. He forcefully drove his knee upward, aiming for Geon Ita’s left arm. However, just before flesh could collide, a large hand intercepted, blocking Dokyeom’s knee.

“It’ll break,” Geon Ita murmured.

It was a clear instruction not to waste his energy. Dokyeom felt a hand brush and rub against his knee, almost caressing his skin. It was utterly exasperating. The perverted touch felt as though it were stroking his very bones.

“Either let go and scram, or take a hit. Choose one,” Dokyeom challenged. “And if you can, let’s stop meddling in other people’s business, shall we? It’s not like he’s your kid, so I don’t know why you’re sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong.”

“Are you living without a brain?” Geon Ita drawled.

“You know me well. So let go of my knee, you bastard.”

Geon Ita let out a low, audible laugh. The hand that had been lingering on Dokyeom’s knee slowly ascended, cupping his chin and twisting his head to the side. Geon Ita’s dark eyes traced the line of Dokyeom’s pale neck, settling firmly on the distinct mark etched there.

“Alright, let’s say that’s true.”

His fingertip grazed the edge of the mark precariously. As his hand, which had been gently circling the area, finally stilled, Geon Ita lowered his gaze and spoke.

“But why do you keep looking at me with eyes like a rabid dog?”

“Me? Anyone can see you’re the rabid dog here.”

Dokyeom let out a strained breath, then raised a hand and seized Geon Ita’s wrist. As he slipped his fingertips beneath the sleeve that encased Geon Ita’s thick wrist, Geon Ita’s gaze followed. His slowly moving eyes halted at a particular spot.

Dokyeom pressed his nails into Geon Ita’s skin, his eyes subtly narrowing.

“You thought I was the only one with a mark, didn’t you?”

Then, without an ounce of mercy, he raked his nails down Geon Ita’s skin. Geon Ita’s eyes flinched shut. His brow, though only for a moment, furrowed in a fierce scowl.

It was on the inside of Geon Ita’s right wrist. Always clad in suits that resembled military uniforms, Geon Ita was a man who excessively avoided exposing his wrists. Of course, there were more than enough reasons for this.

Beneath, lay the mark, which was considered his deepest shame.

Moreover, the mark, regardless of who touched it, caused extreme irritation. Even for an S-rank.

Geon Ita’s wide, vivid eyes filled with an insatiable, primal nature. For the first time, the trace of a smile vanished from his face.

His jaw was clenched tight, veins protruding, and muscles sharply defined. Yet, his entire demeanor was utterly desolate, almost to the point of ruin.

“Then, like the rabid dog you are, you should bark.”

Geon Ita’s ragged breath brushed against Dokyeom’s ear. Tilting his head, Geon Ita nervously toyed with the back of Dokyeom’s hair, then barked like a dog.

“Grrr.”

Dokyeom’s face contorted sharply. ‘I’ve never seen such a rabid dog.’

“If you’re a rabid dog, then act like one… and wear a muzzle!”

Dokyeom raised his foot and swiftly kicked Geon Ita’s stomach with a resounding thud. Of course, even that was futilely blocked by a hand that moved faster. Still, he succeeded in creating a momentary gap.

A false smile, as if it had never left, reappeared on Geon Ita’s lips. His long arm shot out, bracing against the wall beside Dokyeom’s head. With his face cast in shadow, Geon Ita exhaled a soft breath.

“Why do you keep making faces that make me want to bite you, making it impossible for me to leave?”

“Geon Ita, would you mind biting off my mark this time?” Dokyeom challenged.

Dokyeom reached for Geon Ita’s wrist once more. Faster than he could move, Geon Ita sharply raised his arm. Dokyeom, bracing himself against Geon Ita’s shoulder, followed the movement. And then—

“…Ita?”

A voice drifted from nearby.

Both their heads instinctively snapped to the side. The first thing that caught their attention was a pair of anxious eyes, wavering like ripples. It was Ju Uiryeong, standing a few steps away, staring at Geon Ita and Dokyeom.

“What… what are you doing right now?”

At Ju Uiryeong’s question, delivered as he approached, Dokyeom shoved Geon Ita’s shoulder, which he had been holding. Geon Ita, who had seemed to retreat compliantly, leaned in and whispered a coded message into Dokyeom’s ear before fully separating.

“Guard your Authority well, and I’ll see you next time.”

‘Just as I thought.’ Geon Ita already knew that Agon possessed Authority. Dokyeom’s brow furrowed deeply.

“Yes, no thank you.”

Dokyeom ostentatiously brushed off the spot where Geon Ita had touched him, an act of pure irritation. A low laugh echoed from above. Geon Ita then turned and walked towards the association officials, who stood frozen with bewildered expressions.

Dokyeom, vigorously rubbing his ear, stepped out from the wall’s corner and headed towards Agon. As he walked, a sudden influx of gazes fell upon him. One of them belonged to Ju Uiryeong.

Ju Uiryeong’s faded eyes stared intently at Dokyeom. His blinking gaze seemed to lose focus for a moment, then, as if startled by something, his eyes widened, and his shoulders stiffened. It was a look of recognition.

“Y-you…!”