TL | Chapter 10 | Bodyguard

“I don’t think this is a very wise choice,” Min finally spoke up, watching Seowon equip the protective gear. When Seowon glanced back, Min let out a deep sigh.

“I really wish you’d reconsider.”

It was clear Min was genuinely opposed to Seowon becoming Iden’s bodyguard.

“If you’re worried I’ll be a burden, don’t be. I won’t let that happen.”

“No, that’s not it. I know your skills well, Seowon.”

Even though this was practically their first meeting, Min claimed to know Seowon well. The Seowon he knew was not him but the ‘Seowon’ of this world, the one who had died.

“What was I like… before I died?”

At Seowon’s change of subject, Min frowned, seemingly aware he was trying to avoid the topic of bodyguard duty.

“You were the best bodyguard. After all, you managed to protect the Director.”

That was a fitting answer from someone loyal to Iden, whose priority was always his safety.

“In that case, trust me this time, too. I’ll protect him.”

Though he said it calmly, he almost let out a self-deprecating laugh. It wasn’t something he should say, considering he had failed to protect Iden in the past. But this time, he had resolved to protect him, no matter what.

“No, that’s not what I meant. I wish you’d prioritize protecting yourself, Seowon.”

Seowon looked at Min silently. Min met his gaze, then let out a long, heavy sigh, his face creasing.

“I saw what happened to the Director after he lost you.”

Seowon gave a bitter smile. He couldn’t say for sure, but he could guess. The anguish, regret, and rage of losing a marked partner were emotions he was all too familiar with. He knew that the Iden here might have suffered as much as he had. If that were the case, he understood why Min was trying to stop him now.

“In my world, ‘he’ died.”

When Seowon mentioned ‘him’ instead of a name, Min’s expression hardened, as if he instantly understood. In truth, for him, Iden’s death would have been an even greater ordeal than Seowon’s.

“A month ago, on the same date, ironically enough, it wasn’t me who died, but ‘him.’”

As Min seemed to recall that day, his brow furrowed. Whoever had died, the memory of that day seemed to be horrific for everyone involved.

“Even breathing felt unbearable. I couldn’t bear it any longer, so I decided to end it.”

At the mention of wanting to die, Min looked at him without blinking.

“Please don’t tell Iden… the Director.”

Seowon added, with a bitter smile. There was no need for Iden to know. Min frowned, trying to read Seowon’s emotions, then finally let out a sigh.

“Is that why you jumped into the lake? To die?”

Seowon didn’t feel the need to respond, so he simply offered a faint smile and looked away.

He had wanted to die, but he had awakened here. It was a life he’d already given up on, so he had no reason to hold back to protect it now. Instead, he saw this as an opportunity. He had regretted and regretted, feeling as if he’d die from the guilt of failing to protect Iden. He couldn’t make the same mistake again.

After hearing Seowon’s story, that he had been so devastated by Iden’s death that he’d even tried to die, Min couldn’t bring himself to dissuade him any further. He knew how Iden had reacted to losing Seowon. The thought that Seowon might have been suffering even more hadn’t occurred to him.

The idea that Seowon had been willing to die for him… Min didn’t even want to imagine the depth of that feeling. At least Iden hadn’t tried to end his own life. Although he had exuded a chilling aura, as if he’d kill everyone around him, he hadn’t given up on his life. Perhaps he had been clinging to the desire for revenge against the one who’d taken Seowon. If not for that, would he have ended up like Seowon, wanting to die? It was a thought he didn’t want to entertain.

Watching Min frown silently, Seowon checked the pistol he’d been given. He attached the gun belt and placed the pistol in the holster near his chest.

“Oh, he insisted that you wear the bulletproof vest.”

Min added, as if just remembering. Among the equipment he’d brought, a bulletproof vest had indeed been included.

“I don’t need it.”

“It was a condition.”

Min wouldn’t budge. Seowon sighed quietly and removed his gun belt, reluctantly donning the bulletproof vest. It wasn’t as thick as he expected, though it wasn’t comfortable for movement.

“This was actually a compromise. He was originally going to get something much thicker, but I picked something I thought you’d accept.”

Alright, Seowon understood. If he were in Iden’s position, he probably wouldn’t even allow him to work as a bodyguard at all. Iden here had endured the same pain and suffering he had. Still, he had taken a step back for Seowon’s insistence.

“The radio has a tracking feature, so don’t remove it from your body,” Min continued, handing him a small earpiece that worked as a communicator. It connected to the entire security team and to Iden directly.

“And this.”

Min handed him a small shopping bag. It didn’t look like it held any sort of protective gear.

“It’s a phone. He thought you’d need it.”

Seowon accepted it without protest. Better to have one than not.

“Iden’s local number is saved under speed dial 1, and mine is under 2. Contact us whenever you need to.”

At his words, Seowon checked the number saved on speed dial 1. He let out a quiet laugh—it was a number he knew all too well. The same yet different details coexisted here. Would other numbers he remembered be the same, too? His parents, college friends? Not that it mattered; he couldn’t use them even if they were. He decided to forget it.

For a moment, he wondered how long he could stay in this world. The Ha Seowon here was supposed to be dead. If he continued to occupy this space, would it upset the balance of this place?

Perhaps there was a limit to how long he could stay.

He chuckled at the sudden thought and shook his head. What happened to him after that didn’t matter. All he wished for now was to endure here until he could find and eliminate the one who’d tried to kill Iden. Beyond that, he hadn’t thought.

“Have you found anything about the accident from a month ago?”

“As of yesterday, no progress has been made.”

At Min’s response, Seowon looked at him. It was strange that no investigation had been conducted, considering it was an attempt on the life of a mafia heir.

“It seems the boss has been looking into it, but since the Director has been in Korea…”

With that, he understood. For Iden, the fact that Ha Seowon had died was more significant than finding the culprit.

He even brought Seowon’s body back to Korea himself.

Realizing that, Seowon felt a pang in his heart. He hadn’t been able to do anything. Iden’s funeral had been held in the United States. With his father there, there was no need to transfer the body to Korea. Iden’s mother had ended up traveling to the U.S. instead.

When he returned to Korea, he’d been completely alone, with nothing left but his memories of Iden. Maybe that’s why his sense of loss was so profound. He couldn’t even visit his grave.

“What happened to Ha Seowon… his body?”

It felt strange, asking about his own remains.

“He was cremated.”

“So, is he placed in some memorial facility?”

With Seowon’s parents still around, Iden probably hadn’t been able to make all the decisions alone.

“He’s in a memorial park in Gyeonggi Province.”

Seowon paused in thought at Min’s answer.

“Can you tell me where exactly?”

“You’re going?”

Min asked, perplexed. It was natural for him to find it odd—why would someone want to visit their own columbarium?

“I think it’s better to confirm it for myself.”

“I don’t understand.”

Min shook his head. It wasn’t something he needed to understand. Seowon needed to make this distinction clear for himself. He was different from the Ha Seowon of this world, and this world wasn’t where he belonged. Reminding himself of that might prevent further confusion.

**

Bang! Bang!

Each gunshot echoed in his ears. Iden watched Seowon through the glass window at the shooting range. Wearing ear protection, Seowon held the gun steady, aiming at the target. Despite the recoil, his body barely moved.

“All shots hit.”

The range manager pointed to the monitor displaying the target. Iden’s gaze shifted to the screen as well, where each of the ten shots had landed dead center.

“It seems his shooting skills have improved.”

The manager glanced at Iden, as if trying to read his expression. When Seowon had shown up at the range, alive after being declared dead, the manager had looked as if he’d seen a ghost. Besides telling him to keep his mouth shut, Iden hadn’t offered any explanation and had ordered him to keep the area private for Seowon’s practice.

At the manager’s comment about Seowon’s shooting skills, Iden let out a quiet breath. He’d wanted to check on the off chance, but it seemed his worries had been unnecessary.