Welcome to Dungeon Hotel Chapter 313 - Side Story 1. An Ordinary Romance (8)

Side Story 1. An Ordinary Romance (8) 

 

‘Hello.’

 

You could at least give a casual greeting. 

 

In fact, you could even say that ever since you saw me in the rain, you’ve wanted to properly say hello at least once. 

 

And maybe talk about the somewhat dark childhood, too.

 

‘I think I lost my way a bit after my parents passed away.’

 

Back then, I wanted to give up on myself too.

 

The things I loved most left or changed, and it felt like everything was my fault.

 

I couldn’t forgive myself for leaving them like that.

 

So I wanted to end my own life.

 

‘But I don’t feel that way anymore. There’s no reason to, right?’

 

…and so on.

 

An imagination where you say it as if it’s nothing.

 

But then, at times like that, this thought also comes to mind.

 

If I hadn’t become a Hunter, maybe I wouldn’t have thought about you for this long.

 

Maybe those words—don’t die—wouldn’t have hit me as deeply as they did. 

 

Because I wouldn’t have been able to understand how hard it must have been to say those words.

 

So, in the end, it all came back to the starting point.

 

“If I fail the exam again this time, I’m just gonna kill myself.”

 

Han Woohyun lowered his head as he listened to Jinsoo’s words.

 

“Don’t… say things like that.” 

 

“….” 

 

“Aunt would be heartbroken if she heard that.”

 

“Hyung…” 

 

Jinsoo’s face crumpled and he sighed. 

 

“Are you just being nice, or are you being stupid? You said Mom called asking for money again. If it were me, I would’ve ignored the call.” 

 

Jinsoo’s face was genuinely sympathetic.

 

Jinsoo had always wanted to escape his family.

 

A violent father, and a mother who couldn’t escape from him—he said the two of them were nothing short of a prison to him. 

 

Perhaps, to Jinsoo, Woohyun acting like a tamed beast might have seemed no different from his own mother.  

 

Woohyun had that thought.

 

That I resemble my aunt too.

 

My aunt knew very well that the man she loved didn’t love her back.

 

Her husband often spent the money Woohyun brought him on staying out overnight, and even before that, it seemed there were quite a few women he was involved with—he just hadn’t had the money before. 

 

My aunt had threatened to divorce him several times, but each time, her husband would threaten to kill himself and beg her in front of her.

 

Even to young Woohyun, he couldn’t believe it. 

 

Her husband, tears streaming down his face and wearing an expression as if the world were ending, wasn’t directing his words at my aunt in the end.

 

‘I don’t think I can go on living.’

 

I think I should just die.

 

Those words were directed entirely at himself.

 

They came from selfishness—the desire not to bear the label of divorce, even in a life already ruined beyond repair.

 

And yet, every time she heard those words, Aunt acted as if she had found a glimmer of hope.

 

She seemed to believe that a man who claimed he couldn’t live without her could somehow change because of her.

 

Love gradually tamed her that way.

 

But from the beginning, my aunt was also someone who could be easily tamed.

 

Just like Han Woohyun.

 

Someone who has no intention of shaping their own circumstances, and always lives by bending, folding, and curling themselves to fit the situation. 

 

That was him.

 

He wasn’t choosing anything at all—he was simply letting himself wither away.

 

Jinsoo believed that his actions—lending money to his aunt and going on dangerous raids because of the debt her husband owed—were his own choices, but in reality, they weren’t. 

 

To no longer pity his aunt and to free himself from the affection he felt for her.

 

Even that was a choice, yet he simply pitied his aunt and helped her out—like a habit. 

 

In the end, he was giving up on himself.

 

He found his aunt pathetic for being tamed by her husband—but he found himself just as pathetic.

 

“Sorry, but I really can’t live like Hyung do, you know that, right?” 

 

“….”

 

Han Woohyun quietly watched Jinsoo’s eyes as he finished a few cans of beer and left the house.

 

“Right. You should live differently.” 

 

If you really can, then seeing you do it would make me genuinely happy too.

 

Han Woohyun thought. 

 

Anyway, if Jinsoo could really do that, then at least one of us would be proof that it’s possible to break free—from the violence‑stained past, from that strange cycle bound together by something we once called love.

 

Seeing that would make me feel like I could try living a little differently too.

 

There… wouldn’t really be any reason to, though.

 

“Then yeah. I’ll live differently from both my dad and my mom. If I succeed, I’ll cut off all contact with my family.”

 

Jinsoo, drunk, staggered into the elevator.

 

When he drank, his emotions always ran high—that was Jinsoo’s habit.

 

A habit he inherited from his uncle.

 

But Han Woohyun held Jinsoo’s shoulder firmly, trying not to overlay ‘him’ onto Jinsoo.

 

“Take a taxi. I’ll call one for you.”

 

“Yeah, yeah. Now that I think about it, this apartment has a lounge.”

 

As soon as the elevator doors opened, Jinsoo collapsed onto a sofa in the lounge.

 

Han Woohyun gave a knowing glance to the security guard approaching, ready to shoo Jinsoo away, as if recognizing him as a nuisance.    

 

The security guard paused, then, after receiving his glance, returned to his post.

 

“If I were Hyung, I really wouldn’t put up with the nonsense Mom spouts. What’s the point of doing that while living here?”

 

“What does that matter?”

 

Jinsoo kept talking the whole time Woohyun was calling a taxi.

 

“I mean, even if it’s dirty and pathetic, I can’t just completely cut them off. I even got fired from my part-time job this time.” 

 

“Again?”

 

At the word “again,” Jinsoo slightly raised his head. 

 

“I can’t help it. It’s not like I was born with any special talent. So I’ve got no choice but to rely on my family. Just like my mom.”

 

The “family” he’s talking about here—is that really Uncle? 

 

Han Woohyun felt puzzled, but he didn’t have the energy to question it.

 

It wasn’t physical strength, but psychological.

 

Because he had the feeling that if he questioned anything right now, everything would completely fall apart.

 

A strong premonition that even the four of them, referred to as “family” in name only, would finally be severed this time. 

 

The problem was that if this side let go, the other side wouldn’t—rather than a clean break, they’d just remove the mask.

 

‘Shameless b*stard. He says all his parents died and he alone survived. That’s not luck—it’s feeding off someone else’s luck. It’s because of him that our business keeps failing.’

 

Whenever her husband, drunk, said things like this, my aunt would just listen in silence.

 

Sometimes she would hold his hand tightly, even giving him a look that said not to pay attention to such words. 

 

But if he lets go now, he won’t be able to see that expression anymore.

 

Perhaps, in truth, he might even admit that he felt the same way.

 

You shameless b*stard. 

 

You’re going to ruin everything around you.

 

It’s because of you that I ended up like this.

 

“So, here’s the thing—I’m gonna quit studying for the exam and try something else. Like video content? But I don’t have money to buy a camera. Can you lend me some cash?” 

 

Jinsoo, sprawled on the sofa, looked straight at Han Woo-hyun.

 

‘It’s because of you that I ended up like this too.’

 

Those words echoed in Han Woohyun’s ears. 

 

He was about to refuse, but he clenched his fists tightly.

 

“….”

 

He couldn’t open his mouth.

 

He simply nodded.

 

“The taxi should be here soon, so wait a moment.”

 

Han Woohyun stepped out of the lounge as if avoiding the spot and went to a place where the taxi could wait. 

 

The moment he stepped outside, rough breaths escaped from his mouth.

 

His stomach churned.

 

“….”

 

What should I have done?

 

Where did it all go wrong?

 

Why can’t I break free?

 

Maybe it all went wrong starting from “that day.”

 

Of all days, it was the day he went out with his parents on his birthday.

 

The day a dungeon break unfolded right in front of them, shattering the car’s windshield.

 

That day, surviving on his own, and still managing to keep his life—was that the real mistake?’

 

Out of habit, he took a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. 

 

Whenever he felt frustrated, inhaling the acrid smell that filled his lungs helped him.

 

It wasn’t that the acrid smell felt good. If anything, it was quite the opposite.

 

The sensation of his lungs drying up, his throat feeling raw—every sense telling him he was slowly dying.

 

It wasn’t bad.

 

As he was about to light a cigarette, a phone call rang.

 

Choi Minji

 

He ignored it and lit a cigarette.

 

Choi Minji

 

But the call came through again.

 

He hesitated for a moment before answering the call.

 

He wondered if he might even lend money if it was a call from an old classmate, digging through contacts after a long time just to ask for some cash.

 

Because he was tired of everything now.

 

[It’s me.]

 

“What?”

 

[It’s me. Me.]

 

“….”

 

[It’s Junghyo.] 

 

But the moment he heard that strangely familiar voice through the receiver, he froze.

 

“….”

 

He hesitated for a moment, pressed his forehead with the hand holding the cigarette, and then slowly crouched down in his spot.  

 

Is the imagination running again?

 

He answered in a calm, matter-of-fact voice, just like in his imagination.

 

“…Mhm.”

 

But on the other end, she let out a hollow laugh, as if unsatisfied with his answer.

 

Her breathing came through the receiver, unfiltered.

 

It felt as if they were breathing together, and before he knew it, he was staring blankly until he pulled his fingers away from the burning cigarette butt.

 

He pressed the remaining ember with his fingers and extinguished it.

 

It wasn’t hot.

 

Perhaps his finger was hotter.

 

[I miss you.]

 

He felt dizzy for a moment, but then quickly came to his senses.

 

Why on earth would she call me from a different number at this hour?

 

A variety of theories raced through my head.

 

Then, he suddenly realized something.

 

Because she doesn’t have her phone right now.

 

Even so, there was someone she absolutely had to call, so she snatched Minji’s phone that was next to her, frantically dug through the call log, and tapped the top entry.

 

[I thought you wouldn’t answer. You haven’t been picking up until now, either.]

 

Thinking of the “someone” at the top of her phone’s call log. 

 

Just thinking that far made his head feel a little cold.

 

Thank goodness.

 

If it had gotten any hotter, he might have exploded.