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Yoo Joonghyuk was not curious about Dokja’s real face.
He knew the man had some kind of mental censorship or something similar. He wasn’t as familiar with this kind of skill as he would’ve liked, but he knew that Dokja’s ability was more powerful than he first thought.
It simply made it impossible to remember his facial features altogether, making it look like a deformed and blurry dough.
He couldn’t remember his face even if he saw it everyday.
He tried to hold onto it, forcing the image to stay, but it always slipped away and made his head ache.
Despite all this, he remembered his voice.
It was calm but bold, and for all that he spoke so softly, there was a touch of rebelliousness about him, almost like a teenager. Except he didn’t sound like one, but rather like an old man who knows all the secrets of the universe, telling Yoo Joonghyuk not to worry, that he would protect him.
That, at least, remained clear.
But he still wanted to see his face.
Was he really as ugly as his title claimed?
The moment the thought settled in his mind, something shifted.
It was subtle at first-
a faint distortion, like the world itself had glitched for a second.
Then-
[A Hidden Scenario has been triggered.]
[Hidden Scenario: “Fragment of the Unreadable”]
[Clear Condition: Observe a fragment of Kim Dokja’s face.]
[Warning: This scenario is restricted for the current user.]
[Reason: Conflict detected between “Regression” and target’s attribute.]
[Penalty: Intense mental pain.]
[Penalty: Partial memory loss.]
[Reward: Temporary, partial visualization of the target’s face.]
[Note: The full face cannot be permanently remembered.]
[Do you wish to proceed?]
—Yes.
In that moment the strong bang of the door opening sounded behind him.
—YOO JOONGHYUK-AH I SWEAR ITS NOT MY FAULT THIS TIME!!!
He remained silent for a moment before answering.
—I know, it's mine.
Yoo Joonghyuk turned around to look at him.
His vision blurred.
But just then, he saw it.
His eyes were incredibly dark which contrasted with his milky skin, like vast voids that would swallow him if he wasn’t careful. But even so, they held a hint of starlight that intrigued him.
Many people would’ve said they looked soft, sweet, and kind…
Yet there was something deeper about them. They looked somehow teasing, fox-like, never revealing what he felt, clever and intelligent. Even so, the dark circles under his eyes showed how exhausted he was. A melancholic beauty.
They were the most captivating eyes he had ever seen in his life.
—Wait… WHAT? —Dokja said, confused—and flustered?—Why would you want to do that?… I-I’m just average, e-even ugly.
Was he blind? Had he never seen himself in the mirror? Why did he let everyone call him the Ugliest King?
His hair was straight but very messy, making it look slightly wavy because of all the tangled strands falling into his eyes. It just suited him.
—Hey, can you just… um, stop looking at me like that? It’s getting kind of uncomfortable.
He let out a nervous chuckle, a crooked smile on his lips.
His gaze drifted lower.
And then there was his smile, curved into a permanent yet kind smirk. It was as if he always knew what to do, even when he was nervous. His lips had a slightly dull pink tint that complemented his face.
It didn’t make sense.
Ugly? Average?
Who told him that?
That was a lie.
His head throbbed, a sharp pain building behind his eyes.
Still, he didn’t look away.
A notification popped up.
[Time remaining until the scenario ends: 30 seconds]
He felt a pressure in his chest as he stepped closer to the man in front of him.
This wasn’t right. It didn’t make sense. And yet, he couldn’t look away.
—Look at me, Kim Dokja.
His vision started to fail, but he was determined not to forget his face.
—You’re not ugly.
Dokja’s cheeks flushed a light pink, slowly deepening into crimson.
—Don’t forget it.
He let himself collapse against the reader’s body as the pain and dizziness spread, catching the faint scent of old books and ink.
—W-wait, what? Yoo Joonghyuk-ah? What are you doing? Are you okay?
His eyelids grew heavy, his breathing slowing.
—I knew something would happen.
He sounded worried, but he wasn’t sure why. Why would Dokja be worried?
—You sunfish bastard, why do you do something so stupid?
That was the last thing he heard before losing consciousness.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁ . . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.
Yoo Joonghyuk woke up in the industrial complex’s nursery. Lee Seolhwa was at his side.
—Are you okay, Joonghyuk-ssi? Dokja told me you suddenly fainted.
He frowned.
—I’m fine.
She seemed conflicted.
—I know you’re strong, but please be more careful next time. You could get seriously hurt. You’re not invincible.
—I’m aware.
He tried to remember his face… but he couldn’t. The penalty had been right—it had taken away the memory of Dokja’s face.
Yet he remembered his eyes, or at least the impression they had left on him, something that had deeply imprinted itself in his mind.
It didn’t make sense.
But he knew one thing.
Kim Dokja was not ugly.
And if the man wouldn’t accept this truth for now, then Yoo Joonghyuk would make sure to remember it for him. Every single time.