An Unpleasant Familiarity

“Scatter!”

Following Yoo Se-rim’s command, we broke formation and dove out from behind the shield. At that exact moment, with a low, vibrating roar, Remes swung his greatsword in a horizontal arc. A wave of frost capable of flash-freezing anything in its path surged toward Yoo Se-rim at a terrifying speed.

“[Invisible Pain].”

Timing it perfectly, I focused my curse on Remes’s thumb, specifically targeting the nail to rip it away.

Remes’s gaze flickered toward me for a split second. However, his aggro didn’t shift. It couldn’t—because Yoo Se-rim, neither frozen nor hindered by the frost, was already lunging directly beneath the boss’s chin!

[Tsk!]

In other words, Yoo Se-rim had brilliantly exploited the momentary opening I created by drawing the monster’s attention.

“[Bind].”

Yoo Se-rim unleashed another skill. His whip wound around Remes like a constricting vine, snaking from his shins to his jaw. I knew exactly what came next.

‘Constrict.’

“[Constrict].”

With a sickening crunch, Remes was pulverized where he stood. Just like that, the boss was subjugated.

However, six Apostles still remained. I kept a sharp eye on the one at the very end, the one wielding a spear. That was the bastard who had killed Seong Gyu-rim in my previous life.

Before, he had aimed his spear at me, and Gyu-rim had thrown herself in the way. But now, the spearhead was leveled at Yoo Se-rim.

‘Should I just let it happen?’

Part of me wanted to. But I was terrified that my inaction would create an unpredictable variable. Watching the spear fly, I did the unthinkable. My old habit took over, and I screamed his name just like I used to.

“Se-rim! Behind you!”

Without even looking back, Yoo Se-rim caught the flying spear with one hand. Then, he turned to look at me. His eyes were wide, blinking in genuine surprise.

‘f*ck….’

In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to drop dead. I wanted to strangle myself for letting that name slip out of my mouth.

[Gurgle…]

After the last Apostle was put down, the loot dropped: the ‘Dagger of the Snowfield.’ It went to Pyo Yoo-jung.

“If any monsters get too close, it would be best for you to use this,” Yoo Se-rim said.

“Yes! Thank you so much!”

Pyo Yoo-jung, who transformed into a bright, blooming girl only when Yoo Se-rim was involved, took the dagger with flushed cheeks. She glanced at me and smirked, her lips curling up in a triumphant sneer.

‘I’m really not interested in a power struggle over Yoo Se-rim with you….’

Too exhausted to even respond, I sighed and turned away.

The party dispersed, each member heading back to ‘this’ world with plans to meet again later. I packed my gear, being nearly the last one ready to cross over. I had two weeks of freedom ahead of me.

‘In the past, I would have tried to spend this time with Yoo Se-rim, too….’

Wallowing in my bitter memories, I hoisted my pack. Suddenly, someone grabbed my left shoulder—the one that was already throbbing with pain—with a crushing grip.

“Ack!”

“……My apologies. Were you injured?”

It was Yoo Se-rim.

I trembled from the sheer, white-hot pain that left me speechless. I managed a strained nod to indicate I was fine. Yoo Se-rim opened and closed his hand, looking uncharacteristically awkward. I gritted my teeth, exhaled sharply, and asked bluntly.

“What is it?”

Yoo Se-rim hesitated for a moment, which was unlike him. “It’s nothing major,” he began.

“It’s just… you called me ‘Se-rim’ earlier. Come to think of it, Han-sol, you are a year older than me.”

I blinked, not expecting him to fixate on that. I scrambled for an excuse.

“……That was a mistake.”

“I wanted to tell you that you should feel free to speak comfortably to me from now on.”

“……What?”

“There’s no need to feel pressured. Kim Jae-ho speaks informally to me in private, too. He’s four years older than me, after all.”

“…….”

“I just thought… you seemed to find me a bit difficult to approach.”

Yoo Se-rim’s expression was calm. Did I think he was a true leader who prioritized teamwork? Not a chance. I just felt uncomfortable and suspicious of his hidden motives.

In my previous life, I had used the fact that I was a year older as an excuse to drop the honorifics and act with pathetic familiarity. I had no intention of repeating that mistake. Now, it was just a cringeworthy memory.

I shook my head vigorously.

“I was in a rush and my tongue slipped.”

“…….”

“I’m more comfortable with formal speech, so I’ll continue using it.”

Yoo Se-rim stared off into the distance for a moment before letting out a short laugh.

I couldn’t tell what that laugh meant, which gave me an unpleasant, ominous feeling. I couldn’t escape his violet gaze as he stared me down.

“If that’s how you want it.”

“……Yes.”

I thought the suffocating conversation was finally over, but then…

“Then I’ll be the only one speaking informally.”

“Wh-what?”

“I said, I’ll do it.”

Hearing Yoo Se-rim use informal speech (banmal) for the first time across two lifetimes caused my brain to stall completely.

Yoo Se-rim scanned me and smirked. It wasn’t a pleasant smile. It was a crooked, irritated expression—one that seemed to hate something about the situation. Yet, it felt far closer to his true nature than the picture-perfect smiles he usually wore.

“You didn’t get that shoulder injury in the dungeon, did you?”

The natural transition to informal speech was followed by a sharp, difficult question. I kept my mouth shut and glared at him. This time, he didn’t smile as he asked.

“Was it Baek Hee-do?”

“……!”

“I heard you creeping out at dawn.”

I was frozen solid. Without a change in expression, Yoo Se-rim placed his hand on my injured shoulder again. He didn’t squeeze this time, but the touch sent a terrifying chill through me. How much does he know? Snap. Pop.

I stood still as Yoo Se-rim began to rip the buttons off my winter coat, one by one.

He looked at my blackened, swollen shoulder, and for the first time, a faint frown creased his brow. He pulled a rare potion from his robe, popped the seal with one hand, and poured it directly over the bruise.

The potion absorbed into the injury, but the excess ran off like water. The sensation of the liquid soaking into my inner clothes was… strangely humiliating.

“If you want to keep our distance, don’t get involved with Baek Hee-do, Han-sol.”

“…….”

After healing my shoulder with the entire bottle, he reverted to his hypocritically polite tone.

He tapped my shoulder twice as he walked past—a gesture that mirrored Baek Hee-do’s from the night before. I bit my lip and glared at his back as he stepped firmly into the gateway to ‘this’ world.

‘What on earth is Yoo Se-rim thinking?’

Even after returning to the modern world, I couldn’t stop thinking about yesterday—the way he tore off my buttons, his downcast eyes, and the cold potion being poured over me.

‘Why did he overlook me meeting Baek Hee-do only to act so bothered by it now? What are his intentions?’

I tried to decipher his mercurial behavior, but eventually gave up. It was impossible to read him. However, one thing was certain.

‘The next time I meet Baek Hee-do, Yoo Se-rim must not find out.’

I had a feeling that next time, he wouldn’t stop at just dropping honorifics. He was dangerous because I couldn’t guess what he was capable of. But unless Baek Hee-do dies in the Lightning Spirit Sword incident, he is my only connection capable of keeping Yoo Se-rim in check—even if he is a pervert.

“Sigh. Both of them are a handful….”

I scowled as I checked the emails I’d missed. Among them was a message from Baek Hee-do.

[——*]**

The body of the email contained nothing but a string of unfamiliar numbers.

“What is this now?”

The sender address matched the one he’d written in my notebook, so it was definitely him.

‘Did he find something out in just one day?’

Inevitably, I had to call the number.

Ring— Click.

The phone was picked up after a single ring. His bone-chilling bass vibrated clearly through the receiver.