FLIA 49

Even after returning to his original form, Ju Hoyoung continued to focus on the games for several days. Then, one day, while playing on the handheld console he said was his favorite, he suddenly started to cry. Brilliant colors and cheerful melodies flickered across his pale, thin face.

“Hic… hngh… huuuh…”

Tears born of deep sorrow dripped silently down his dry cheeks. Watching him, Yohan unconsciously wiped at his own eyes. After crying for a long time, Ju Hoyoung finally turned his gaze away from the screen and looked to the side. There, a cooled skewer of grilled sparrow and some simple snacks had been set out.

He’d said he hadn’t eaten a single thing since falling into the Abyss. Slowly, tentatively, he reached for the food placed beside him. He stared at the perfectly fine-looking meal for a while, then picked it up and took slow bites, and cried again as he chewed. Neither Seungryong nor Hyunmook intervened. They simply watched.

After spending a full week in the arcade like that, Ju Hoyoung finally joined the rest of them.

***

“Mmm…”

The soft sound of conversation stirred Yohan from sleep, and as he shifted drowsily, a gentle hand slowly stroked his back.

“Sleep a little more, Yohan-ah.”

Soothed by the comforting hand patting him, Yohan was just about to drift off again when, chuup, a wet noise and strange sensation snapped him awake. He blinked and turned his head with bleary eyes to find Lee Hyunmook looking down at him with those handsome, tender eyes. Yohan, mouth slightly agape, asked:

“…Did you just suck on my cheek?”

“Me?”

Or… maybe not? Maybe he was dreaming? Tilting his head in sleepy confusion, Yohan groggily sat up. As he yawned and rubbed at his eyes, his last memory before sleeping came back to him. He’d been purifying Ju Hoyoung as he kept playing, and must’ve passed out from exhaustion.

Whipping his head around, he saw Ju Hoyoung still crouched in front of the arcade machine. When their eyes met, Hoyoung raised a hand and smiled through his gloom.

“Hi.”

“Ah! Hello!”

He could talk normally! Yohan had managed to purify him, successfully, without putting him through any physical or mental agony. Overjoyed that his plan had worked, Yohan’s eyes lit up as he approached and introduced himself.

“I’m Yang Yohan! You might’ve heard already, but I’m a purifier… Uh, i-if it’s okay! Can I call you Hoyoung-ah? I’m two years older than you…”

Yohan had never had a younger sibling in his life. At home, he was the youngest, same for his cousins. His parents were the youngest in their own families, so all his cousins were older brothers and sisters. Sure, he had juniors in college, but they didn’t really feel like younger siblings.

“Hyung? You’re two years older than me?”

Ju Hoyoung murmured in surprise, glancing between Hyunmook and Seungryong. Then, after a moment, he pressed his lips together and made a vague little sound before nodding.

“Ah… okay. Yohan-hyung, then. You can speak casually.”

“Okay, Hoyoung-ah!”

Delighted by his permission, Yohan beamed. Ju Hoyoung, watching him in a daze, suddenly smiled back just as brightly. His gaunt face now had a spark of life.

‘I’m on hyung-and-dongsaeng terms with the Sunrise Team!’

To think he’d grown this close with the famous Sunrise Team, it was something he wanted to brag about to everyone. Not that there was anyone else around but the three of them, but still, he felt proud. Ju Hoyoung hugged the game console to his chest like it was sacred.

“Hyung, thank you so, so much for the game. I can’t even remember the last time I played anything. I thought I’d never get to do this again before I died.”

“No, it’s really nothing. Besides, if it weren’t for Seungryong-hyung and Mr. Hyunmook, it wouldn’t have been possible.”

Seungryong had the skills to swap out parts with ease, and without Hyunmook to power it, the whole thing would’ve been useless. But instead of thanking them, Ju Hoyoung just threw them a half-hearted glance.

“…Thanks.”

He muttered the bare minimum and went right back to staring at the game. Even after reuniting with his team, he looked at them like strangers. Yohan felt a little hurt. Well… getting electrocuted that much must’ve been traumatizing.

Just then, Yohan’s stomach growled loudly. Surprisingly, Seungryong reacted faster than Ju Hoyoung.

“Yohan, you’re hungry, huh? Hyung’ll make you something good right away!”

As always, Seungryong became noticeably more upbeat around mealtime. He pulled out a few ingredients from his pocket. Meanwhile, Yohan purified the mildly contaminated food, onions with sprouting limbs or tentacles, among other things, and looked to Hyunmook with expectant eyes.

Instead of offering to take care of his youngest team member, Hyunmook said something completely unexpected.

“I’m a little hurt.”

“Huh? Hurt? Did I… did I do something wrong?”

Startled, Yohan stammered, but Hyunmook only smiled faintly and lowered his gaze.

“Our Yohan only ever calls me ‘Hyunmook-hyung’ once in a blue moon. Makes me feel like I’m the only one you’re keeping at a distance.”

Yohan’s face flushed as he panicked, fumbling with his words. But even so… the words ‘Hyunmook-hyung’ just wouldn’t come out.

“It’s just that… there’s a pretty big age gap between me and Mr. Hyunmook. Calling you ‘hyung’ feels kind of rude.”

“But there’s barely any age gap between me and Seungryong.”

Yohan did a quick mental calculation. Yoon Seungryong: twenty-five. Lee Hyunmook: thirty-three. Eight years, was that really a small age gap? Was it just that he lacked real social experience and didn’t know how to behave properly? Only when he looked up and saw Hyunmook smiling did Yohan realize he was being teased again.

“Then should I start calling you Lee Hyunmook instead?”

He grumbled, just as Seungryong finished cooking. Today’s meal was a spicy kimchi stew made with canned stir-fried kimchi, ham, and assorted vegetables, plus a gochujang braised chicken, though made with sparrow instead of chicken, and perfectly cooked white rice. Even Ju Hoyoung, who had been glued to the game console, was momentarily distracted from his precious game.

“Whoa, what is all this…? Have you all been eating like this the whole time?”

Just like Hyunmook and Seungryong, Hoyoung seemed to view a normal meal as something incredibly precious. Much like when Seungryong first ate Yohan’s purified food, Hoyoung stuffed it into his mouth in a frenzy at first, then gradually slowed down to savor it. The man who had claimed he hadn’t eaten a single thing since falling into the Abyss ended up clearing two full bowls of rice, paired with kimchi stew and braised meat. Yohan watched him with a satisfied smile.

“Now that we’ve eaten, it’s time to head back.”

After the meal, Hyunmook spoke. Yohan secretly worried that Ju Hoyoung, who had been so obsessed with his collection, would refuse to leave. But perhaps because the purification had taken effect, Hoyoung surprisingly showed no interest in the collection at all. He simply picked up one small figurine keyring, barely the size of his palm, and carefully held it out to Yohan.

“Could you purify just this one?”

“Of course, that’s easy!”

Yohan cheerfully purified the figurine. As the corruption melted away like dripping sludge, a worn and faded figure appeared underneath. It was a chibi-style character from the game Hoyoung had been playing. Holding the keyring in his hands for a while and glancing around at the building filled with figurines, Hoyoung finally attached it to his console and said,

“This is enough. Let’s go.”

Then, without looking back once, he turned and walked away.

As they left the building, they dealt with the monsters that had been chained up to the bizarre amusement rides. Surrounded by now-silent attractions, Ju Hoyoung’s base took on an oddly melancholic atmosphere. Hoyoung didn’t even glance back at his old hideout. He kept walking, completely absorbed in his console.

Eventually, he let out a sigh and muttered,

“Man, I love playing games again, but… I really want to play something new. A sequel’s probably out by now.”

He sighed again.

“I want to get out of here.”

Yohan flinched. That was a thought he’d had countless times since arriving here, but had always kept to himself. He tried to stay cheerful, but the truth was, there were plenty of nights he couldn’t sleep. The idea of living here for the rest of his life filled him with dread and made him want to cry.

Seeing Yohan’s expression darken, Seungryong scolded Hoyoung.

“What’s the point of saying that? We tried digging, flying, everything, and it never worked. Don’t waste your breath.”

It wasn’t just aimed at Hoyoung. It felt like a subtle warning to Yohan, a nudge back toward reality. A way of saying: give up hope now.

As Yohan trudged forward with slumped shoulders, Ju Hoyoung, who had been quiet all this time, suddenly spoke.

“There is a way out of here. It’s not like it’s completely impossible.”

Startled, Yohan snapped his head up and stared at him. Hyunmook and Seungryong, in contrast, remained unmoved and didn’t even respond. But Yohan’s eyes shone with desperate hope. Hoyoung calmly sucked on the candy Yohan had given him after the meal and said flatly,

“The odds are really low, but there is a way. I saw it with my own eyes. Someone did escape from here.”