INV 83

The fresh, trembling appearance he had while kissing quickly vanished. As the disciple pinned his master to the floor, biting and gently licking his nape to reveal a thick, carnal lust, Nameless could do nothing but let out wet moans. To think he was a master moaning while looking up at a disciple greedily seizing the high ground. He let out a hollow laugh at the absurdity of it. Yet, was this lewd disciple intending to exploit even the gap of his parted lips? In a brief moment of carelessness, a mass of flesh forced its way between his teeth, pressing down from above as if crushing his body, leaving him no choice but to submit.

Ultimately, Nameless accepts and swallows the rough, impatient kiss whole.

Perhaps it is because he is a yōkai. His body temperature is unusually high. The disciple spreads his hot, blunt tongue wide to rub the roof of the master’s mouth, frantically chasing the master’s tongue as if suckling a breast, entangling it tightly and sucking with a mwah, slurp. Shallow moans follow. It is hard to believe such obscene noises are flowing from him. As he groans in an attempt to stifle the sound, a finger crawls in, prying open the narrow space of his mouth. A cheeky hand gesture—lingering as if to coat everything in saliva before firmly pressing against the tip of his Adam’s apple and fleeing—forces a dry cough out of him. Ah, is this what it feels like to be devoured…?

Will I be able to save you?

The disciple, who had been kissing him like mad, was swept up in an unknown impulse and seized his master’s ankle paroxysmally. He didn’t just hold it; he gripped it fiercely as if to crush it, looking down as if measuring his strength. It was a murderous gaze, as if he might twist it off right this second. Was it a warning of a suddenly sprouted violence? Was it a deception telling him not to forget his true nature, no matter how softly he acted like a tongue inside a mouth?

Nevertheless, Nameless remained calm, without a single ripple of emotion.

As if he had expected Chacha to act this way.

“If you want to break it, you can break it.”

Crack!

Even when the sound of bones shattering into pieces rang out, he merely furrowed his brow slightly.

Rather, it was Chacha, the one who had crushed Nameless’s ankle, who wore an expression of unbearable agony.

“See. I heal quickly.”

Nameless whispered neatly, drenched in saliva and the cold sweat caused by the excruciating pain.

Chacha tried to argue that he shouldn’t talk such nonsense, asking how something so crushed could have healed, but strangely, the broken ankle was already mended.

…Before the question of “how” could even form, a peculiar impulse to break it again surged through him.

Jae—the Calamity—knew this was his true nature.

He wanted to break, he wanted to ruin, and he wanted to kill.

But “Chacha” could do nothing.

The moment his master’s ankle broke within his grasp was closer to self-harm, like swallowing a blade himself. The Calamity wanted that above all else, but Chacha did not want to bluster. Chacha was not brave enough to enjoy the pleasure of destroying his one and only salvation.

“How did you do it? How is it healed already?”

“I am a God of Exorcism… and you are a yōkai. Demonic power is bound to dwell in your actions… Do you understand this much? The rest is simple. It is just that I am an immortal particularly skilled at breaking wicked things.”

“Exorcism and healing should be separate matters.”

“You have more common sense than I thought. Surprisingly, I also know how to purify. I know how to heal. I can even wash away the layers of misfortune piled up inside you.”

This was the reason Nameless had finally consented to Chacha’s touch.

It meant there was a reason why Nameless, despite failing to regard Chacha as a child, had nonetheless kissed the fellow he considered a disciple.

Nameless was the only being capable of accepting a yōkai used as a misfortune-absorber. Theoretically, if Nameless could purify Chacha’s demonic power—if only he could purify all that wicked misfortune Jae had to endure…

Chacha could live an ordinary life.

“Because I want you to live.”

At those words that shook the fate he thought was a certainty—that he must die—he tried to flee as if having a fit, unable to even breathe. But a tender touch that already knew everything embraced Chacha irresistibly.

Unable to flee from or turn away from the embrace that had stepped close, Chacha whispered like a death rattle.

“There is no way… such a thing is possible.”

“Well. You don’t have to believe it.”

Because I won’t know if it’s possible or not until I try it myself.

Nameless cracked his stiff neck from side to side, pressed it firmly with his fingertips, then narrowed his eyes and smiled.

“So, aren’t you going to hold me?”

Ah, what kind of hope is this merciless? This time, Chacha truly intended to refuse. It felt uncomfortable and sinful to have even the body offered for the sake of someone like him, and he wanted to run away. However, when Nameless commanded once more, the proposition known only to Chacha—that he could never disobey Nameless—was simply etched into him again.

Nameless was beautiful. And he was alluring.

He simply could not disobey Nameless.

If such a thing were possible, he wouldn’t have wished it were a dream in the first place. It would have been better if all of this were a dream, all an illusion, so that when he woke up, he could return to the mindset of being ready to die at any moment.

“Nngh… Yes, like that, slowly loosen it with your hand…”

“…Haa.”

“Can’t you hold back? Then come in…”

But most sorrowfully, all of this was reality, not a dream, and Chacha felt the violent energy that had been rampaging as if to burst the veins throughout his body being purified bit by bit. The rampage of demonic power, accompanied by a near-insane violence and impulsiveness, began to subside.

Thrusting his load deep into Nameless and spilling his seed, by that alone…

Jae could finally breathe.

‘For the sake of something so trivial.’

To the point of offering up his own body.

It seemed that someone like Jae was precious… to his master…

‘Ah.’

Even though Jae himself wanted to strangle this kind of life to death.

From 그날 (that day) on, the obsessive copulation between master and disciple continued every single day.

Would even a cursed being like me be accepted by you?

He couldn’t know. So he delved in more roughly and mixed their bodies. It was fine even if it was the last happiness before death. It was fine even if all of this was a deception.

But even so, because he was a Calamity that ruined everything…

“…Master?”

I don’t remember well after that.

Screams. Blood. Shrieks.

Intermingled memories. The shout telling him not to do it. And the Nameless God who was ultimately corrupted.

Death gave birth to despair. The womb was mostly fear, and the umbilical cord was resentment.

Whatever it became, it was impossible not to call it Jae Angshin…

⋆˙⟡

“Kwon Yihyeon,” who had forgotten all his past memories due to Jae Angshin’s mantra, was wandering the depths of his unconscious, a place that was neither dream nor reality.

He had been wandering through a maze, opening an uncountable number of doors over an unmeasurable amount of time, but there was nothing behind the doors. They were only empty rooms.

Yet, Kwon Yihyeon was looking for something beyond those doors. To be precise, a strange conviction that something he had to find was there called forth a sense of loss that felt like his heart was being gouged out. So he tried like mad to grasp that lost something again. But failure repeated. The maze was converging toward infinity, and the time to wake up had already passed. Although he was holding on by force, Kwon Yihyeon was gradually becoming exhausted.

In the first place, did what he was looking for even exist? What were the chances that non-existence could exist? What were the chances that something unseen could be real?

He didn’t know why he kept opening doors even though he knew there would only be empty rooms. Was inertia moving him? If not, what on earth was making him walk? And why was it so sorrowful to have lost something he didn’t even recognize…

It was something very precious. Something he wanted to protect at all costs.

Memories that felt like he could reach them if he just opened the door.

However, there was a truth that Kwon Yihyeon could not know. He was facing something every single moment he opened a door.

It was just that the mantra to forget all of it was repeated.

The memories of his past life that he faced clearly were scattered to pieces by Jae Angshin’s mantra. Leaving only the realization that there had been beautiful moments for his soul, they repeated the cycle of rolling in like a dream and vanishing.

Did it mean that no matter how much he wandered and roamed like he was dying, he was only ever in the palm of Jae Angshin’s hand?

He would forget everything according to the mantra once he woke up, but Kwon Yihyeon seemed to think that even in the depths of his consciousness, the loss was so severe he felt he might suffocate.

Because no matter what mantra was handed down, he couldn’t forget that the vanished memories were of very beautiful days.

Why do beautiful things always break so easily? Why don’t shining things stay shining? Like waves hitting a white sandy beach eventually crumbling into bubbles, the coolness of the sweetest ice cream under the scorching summer sun vanished without a trace.

All that remained on the tip of his tongue was the faint afterimage of a stinging memory.

On one side of the painful imagery, as if his heart were being clawed, a feeling of missing all of this terribly brushed past. He thought that perhaps, from the very first moment he exhaled after being born into this world, he might have been longing for him. That the fact he had lived half-heartedly, neither dead nor alive, was actually all just to meet him.

Even those memories scatter through his fingers like foam.

He will forget everything the moment he wakes up.

But even if he couldn’t remember, he couldn’t deny the past that existed. Even if he didn’t perceive it, there was certainly a name that Kwon Yihyeon had to miss.

Calling out, “Chacha, Chacha.”

The person who called “me” surely must have had a name, too…

⋆˙⟡

“How long is this bastard planning to sleep?”

“Team Leader, this bastard is crying.”

“What?”

Kwon Yihyeon, bewildered, wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. To think this was the first thing he heard upon waking up! Until a moment ago, he felt gloomy as if he had a nightmare, but perhaps because he was so taken aback, he ended up forgetting all about that dream.

A dream with such nonsensical content as a fox yōkai named Chacha turning out to be “me.”

“I was just yawning. Because I’m sleepy.”

“You were already sleeping, you.”

“Yes. And?”

“…”

Gwak Deukcheon clicked his tongue in disbelief. He said he was sleepy while sleeping—what kind of bullshit was that? To Gwak Deukcheon’s eyes, Kwon Yihyeon had a quite pale, unstable face until just a moment ago. So he had been agonizing over when he would wake up and whether he should wake him or not.

‘But this guy repays my worry with hostility?’

Gwak Deukcheon felt a bit petty for no reason, but he decided to end it with a flick to the head like a mature adult. Bop!

“You punk. Don’t feel wronged. While you were sleeping, we finished the search of the ley lines.”

“Huh? What did you say?”

Kwon Yihyeon, who had been turning Gwak Deukcheon’s stomach by even pretending to be dead from being hit once, finally looked around at his surroundings.