NPC Fell onto My Bed C16

Chapter 16

Anyone hearing Noah’s voice would likely think first of its composure. His tone carried no rise or fall, no habitual inflections or casual tics common to others. He spoke slowly, and his breathing was so even it bordered on mechanical.

But composure often means a lack of feeling.

As Noah faced the two Omegas, there was no sign of his usual warmth or gentle smile. His voice, though perfectly calm, rang with quiet finality.
“Mr. Gu Taeheon will do judo again.”

Gu Taeheon stared blankly at Noah’s profile.

Since the truck accident, no one—not a single person—had ever told him he could return to judo. The thought itself had sounded like mockery when simply walking left him drenched in cold sweat.

Strangely, though, the most pessimistic of them all had always been Gu Taeheon himself.

Even he had never dared whisper the possibility to himself. Having such hope would have felt like inviting collapse—like losing not just his sport, but his will to live. What terrified him most wasn’t the pain, but that he might simply… stop caring altogether.

“Really? You mean you can actually do it again?”
“Yes. He will.”
“That’s incredible! I was a huge fan! I watched the last Berlin Olympics live!”

Yet Noah’s voice sliced straight through Taeheon’s despair—like sacred light scattering darkness. To anyone familiar with the state of his knee, that quiet certainty would have sounded absurd, delusional even.

While Taeheon stayed silent, eyes fixed on Noah, Nam Jinwoo finally spoke up, hesitant and aware of the tension.
“Hey, um, then can we get a pi—”
“Oh! Haha, would you look at the time! Noah, I suddenly remembered something urgent—why don’t you two head out first?”

Scrape—the loud sound of Jinwoo’s chair being pushed back filled the room. He stood quickly, ushering both Noah and Taeheon toward the exit before either could protest. Blinking in confusion, Noah found himself outside.

He hadn’t even finished eating, yet it felt as though the meal had abruptly ended. Unsure what to do, he lingered near the entrance.

“Let’s go,” Taeheon said without a backward glance.

Hesitating only a moment, Noah looked back through the glass at Jinwoo, who waved him on from inside. With a polite bow, Noah turned and followed Taeheon.

He assumed they would return to the vehicle they’d ridden earlier, but instead of heading back toward the mall, Taeheon walked in the opposite direction.

Silence hung heavy between them. The shift in Taeheon’s aura since they’d left the restaurant was palpable, and Noah didn’t dare speak first. He merely followed, waiting for him to break the silence.

“Come in.”

They hadn’t walked long before they arrived at a gym—dark and quiet, all the lights off. Taeheon unlocked the door with the keypad and stepped inside, holding it open for Noah to enter.

Noah stepped past him cautiously. A soft click echoed as Taeheon flipped the switches, flooding the training hall with light. The faint scent of sweat lingered in the air, and Noah instantly knew—this was where Gu Taeheon had once trained.

“Shoes off.”

Noah quickly did as told, slipping out of his footwear and handing them to Taeheon. Barefoot, he stepped onto the bright blue mat.

“Wait here. I’ll change.”
“Yes, Mr. Taeheon.”

Taeheon disappeared into a side room, shrugging off his coat as he went. While he changed, Noah wandered slowly around the gym. With each step, the mat clung faintly to his feet, producing a soft peeling sound. The surface bore scuffed marks—worn thin in places by years of fierce practice.

Crouching down, Noah traced one ragged patch with his fingertips. How much passion must those who trained here have poured into this place? Surely Taeheon had been among them.

“Noah.”

The voice came from behind. Noah turned to see Taeheon dressed completely in white—a pristine judo uniform, almost identical in color to a priest’s robe.

Noah’s golden eyes widened in fascination. He hadn’t spent long in this modern world, but he could tell that outfit wasn’t worn for everyday life. Taeheon tightened the belt at his waist and approached. As he moved, brief flashes of his broad chest showed through the folds of fabric.

“Just a minute.”

He rolled his neck, then began loosening his right shoulder with measured rotations. His warm-up flowed naturally—neck to torso, then down to his knees, as tradition dictated. When he reached his injured leg, his teeth clenched in instinctive anticipation of pain.

“…”

Even a slight rotation of his knee brought beads of sweat rolling down his temples. The pain was nothing like walking or bending. Despite Noah’s earlier healing, the strain of real motion tore through him.

Yet he gritted his teeth harder. He feared that if he admitted defeat, Noah might tell him to stop.

When he forced himself through a few more rotations, a quiet voice reached him.
“Mr. Taeheon, please stop.”
“…Why? Think I can’t do it after all?”

The words came out bitter, sharper than he intended. He hadn’t meant to sound like that—especially not to Noah. But judo still hurt too deeply, both in body and pride.

Noah merely shook his head, expression calm.
“No. It’s because you’re in pain.”
“I still have to do it. If I’m going to start again, like you said.”
“That’s not what I meant…”

Pain was no stranger to Taeheon. Even before the accident, his knees had never been sound. Two decades of judo since the age of five had ground them down relentlessly. Pain, to him, had always been something to endure.

“I can handle this much.”
“No—you’re in pain because there’s still metal inside.”
“…What?”

Noah stepped closer and crouched again before him, his golden eyes level with Taeheon’s leg.
“There’s metal in here, isn’t there?”
“…Yeah.”
“One day, it must be removed. Once your knee is fully restored, the bone inside will regenerate too. That’s why it hurts now.”

“….”

It was an absurd claim—bones regenerating like that. Yet somehow Taeheon wanted to believe it. He wondered distantly if he had fallen under the sway of a particularly gentle cultist. But still… he couldn’t interrupt such a serene voice.

“But today, you promised to show me what kind of discipline judo is. So, for now, I’ll cast a different spell.”

Noah raised his hand, lifting the white pant leg carefully. His palm met Taeheon’s shin, and a faint golden-yellow glow spilled across the fabric.

“A simple spell—to dull pain temporarily. Your knee isn’t completely healed yet, but for a short while, it will feel as it once did.”

As Noah’s quiet words faded, so did the light. He gently made a fist and tapped Taeheon’s shin.

But the pain that should have followed never came.

Taeheon’s eyes went wide. Almost disbelieving, he grasped his knee and began rotating it gently. Then, testing further, he extended his leg in a smooth kick and snapped it back again. No pain. Not even a flicker.

“What is this…”

His voice trembled. He had to hide the twitch at the corner of his mouth that threatened to turn into a sob.

His leg—his leg had returned.

Back to the strong, tireless limb that had once carried him to glory on the mat, grappling with opponents under the blaze of lights.

“What… is this?”

Still staring at it in awe, he felt something swell inside him—a fierce surge of longing, disbelief, and hope. At this rate, he thought, he could compete again. At this rate… if Noah stayed by his side.

Footnotes:

Judo uniform (유도복, yudobok) – Traditional white training attire consisting of loose jacket, pants, and belt, signifying rank and discipline.