DRAM Ch 2

Ha-yoon’s body suddenly went eerily still. Or at least, that’s how it felt. He couldn’t even blink as he fixed his gaze on the man before him. There was no doubt—the man was alive.

“……”
It made no sense. Not at this hour, not in a place like this. There shouldn’t be any living person here. Wandering the outskirts of the Field after dark was nearly a death wish.

If anyone were out, it would surely be one of those “center dwellers”—humans who had sided with the machines, gained power, and now roamed freely beyond the wall.

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So why was someone like this here? As Ha-yoon stared straight ahead, his face turned cold. And it wasn’t just one person.

His mind spun in confusion. He remembered meeting someone at night only once before. Should he run? But then—he had just killed a machine. Why had he killed it? How did it happen? There hadn’t been any gunshots. Had that person helped him? Or… was it something else entirely? His thoughts raced wildly. Even though now was his chance to run, his body refused to move.

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“That’s dangerous.”
“Who’s dangerous?”

The man’s voice wrapped around him like a vise. It was soft and gentle—completely out of place in this grim back alley.

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“Me? Or maybe that tin can over there?” he replied, his tone bright and breezy.

“If not that, then what about that person?”
“There’s no way a human would be roaming around at this hour. And if there is, it’s most likely one of them.”
“Thanks for your concern, but… do I really need to worry about that?”

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A pair of dark boots splashed through a puddle; droplets mixed with the falling rain before sinking back into the ground. His long legs carried him forward without hesitation, closing the distance between them.

Ha-yoon took in the man’s appearance. He was clad in a black combat uniform that hugged his entire body. A holstered gun clung tightly to his upper torso, yet even as darkness swallowed him, his hair shone as if it had been touched by sunlight—a brilliant gold against the night.

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“Well, you’ll see for yourself…”
At that moment, their eyes met. The man’s long gaze was strangely cold. His eyes glimmered unnervingly as they fixed on Ha-yoon without wavering. After a long moment, he lowered his gaze and pulled his red lips into a smile—a smile so captivating it defied description.

“……”
Over the heavy scent of blood, there seemed to drift a subtle, floral fragrance. Though the gruesome aura still lingered, Ha-yoon felt his tension ease slightly. There was something about that face that imprinted itself on his memory.

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“Hello.”
The greeting was relaxed, utterly at odds with the tension of the moment.

“Nice to meet you.”
The man tilted his head, and once again, their eyes locked. The chilling look softened into a warm, gentle smile. Ha-yoon clenched his fists, his expression hardening as his scattered thoughts slowly began to settle.

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“It’s pouring out there.”
“……”
“You’re going to catch a cold.”

His red lips maintained a subtle, wry line—revealing hints of sarcasm. Even in full combat gear, with a gun at the ready, he carried himself as if killing were as natural as breathing. He wasn’t an ordinary person. In a way, they were cut from the same cloth.

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“Want to come in?”
He casually lifted an umbrella as he spoke, his light tone making the dire situation seem almost trivial. It was as if he had completely forgotten the existence of machines.

Ha-yoon said nothing, only watching him intently. This person looked more at home in the center of the Field than in these grim outskirts. Instead of a heavy, battle-worn uniform, he seemed as if he belonged in a finely tailored suit.

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“Your face is covered in blood.”
“I know.”

When Ha-yoon replied while rubbing his bloodstained eyes, the man paused—as if not expecting an answer. After a brief hesitation, the man took a step closer and asked softly,

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“Were you planning to die?”

His tone remained gentle, yet his voice dropped noticeably. As the man moved forward, Ha-yoon instinctively stepped back.

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Noticing Ha-yoon’s retreat, the man’s lips curled into a wry smile.
“You didn’t even put up a fight.”
“With nothing, you couldn’t have killed that thing.”
“Does that mean you just gave up your life so easily?”

Ha-yoon furrowed his brow. Listening to someone talk so carelessly while knowing nothing made his stomach churn. Who would choose to die just because they craved death? Even if death were an illusion, the pain was all too real.

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“You don’t know a thing, so spare me your chatter.”
“That’s something you can’t just throw away.”

Before Ha-yoon could reply further, the man shook his head dismissively. His fleeting smile was cold and calculated. Just then, a chilling mechanical sound crept across the floor.

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Startled, Ha-yoon shifted his gaze to a machine lying on the ground. The machine—which he had assumed was dead—now flickered with a red glow in its eyes.

With a soft click, the man tilted his head as if unimpressed. There was no trace of fear in his eyes as he looked down at the machine. The emotion in his dark eyes was as murky as the back alley itself.

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“I’d love to chat more, but perhaps we should take care of that junk first.”
His tone was ambiguous—though he used polite language, there was an odd air of superiority and authority in his words, as if giving orders came naturally to him.

Behind him, another figure emerged, a gun in hand. He too was cloaked in darkness. But before he could act, the man stopped him.

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“I’ll handle it.”
The man passed his umbrella to the newcomer and drew his own gun. After a moment spent adjusting the sleek, black barrel, he slowly aimed it at the machine.

As his gaze, which had been fixed straight ahead, shifted to Ha-yoon, their eyes met in the dim light. He curled his lips mischievously and, in that instant, his fingers tightened on the trigger.

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There was no deafening gunshot—only the sound of condensed electricity sparking in the air. And then, as if by magic, the machine froze completely. The standoff ended as anticlimactically as it had begun.

“……”
The machine’s eyes shattered. Where they had once glowed, now they were completely black—as if consumed by a surge of current. A chill ran down Ha-yoon’s spine. Around him, darkness reigned and the rain continued to fall. At that very moment, as the man pulled the trigger, his eyes met Ha-yoon’s.

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They were strangers—two unknown souls. As Ha-yoon took a step back to secure an escape, the man asked casually,

“Where are you headed?”

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His tone was conversational, hardly betraying the fact that he had just killed a machine.

“Do I really need to explain myself?”
Even in his curt reply, the man smiled. His long eyes crinkled at the corners, and a dark, enigmatic smile appeared on his lips.
Ah.

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Ha-yoon silently gasped, wondering if this was what it felt like to be under a spell.

“If you wander alone at this hour, you’re just asking for trouble,” the man observed, his gaze sweeping over Ha-yoon from head to toe as though studying him. He clicked his tongue in a peculiar way.

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“Judging by your condition, you really ought to know better…”
Without another word, the man began to walk. The distance between them steadily narrowed. Soon, a dark curtain of night fell over them, and the heavy rain abruptly ceased. Under the narrow shelter of the umbrella, their bodies brushed against one another, and their breaths mingled.

They were far too close.

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“If you don’t want to die, then never wander alone again.”
“And what does that have to do with you?”

Ha-yoon glared at him, clenching his fists. The man’s scent was so strong that it made Ha-yoon’s body stiffen, and the urge to run grew stronger by the second.

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“I saved you, didn’t I?”
The man replied with a short laugh as he raised his hand. The hand that had been gripping his gun now gently caressed a scar near his eye.

“How can you be so damn handsome and so scarred at the same time?”
Ha-yoon’s eyes twitched involuntarily. Unlike the biting cold of the night air, the warmth of the man’s touch was almost painfully intense. In that moment, Ha-yoon managed to regain his senses.

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“Keep your hands to yourself.”
With a sharp smack that echoed in the quiet, Ha-yoon struck out and stepped back. He wasn’t getting wet—thanks to the man tilting his umbrella to shield him.

“Shall we talk?”
“No.”
“…Why not?”

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Despite the earlier compliment, Ha-yoon bit his lip as he scanned the area.
He realized, with sinking regret, that this was all his fault. In his weakened state, he had missed his chance to run.

It was as foolish as a heap of scrap left on the ground.

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“Then let me speak plainly.”
The man’s voice, steady and assured, captured Ha-yoon’s wandering gaze. Slowly, Ha-yoon turned to face him. Though his tone was gentle, his face had turned icy.

“I’ve been out here killing those machines.”
The man’s expression was cool and detached—completely out of place in this grim environment. Though Ha-yoon had never seen someone as noble as those rumored to sit atop a crumbling pyramid of power, he was convinced this man was one of them.

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“What the hell are you doing…!”
“A man who’s handled a gun for a long time shows it in his hands.”
“Not going to drop it?”
“Not being scared by that tells me you’re used to this kind of situation.”

Then, without warning, the man seized Ha-yoon’s hand and pulled it close. The strength in his grip was astonishing. He studied the calluses on Ha-yoon’s hand and slowly rubbed them. With every ounce of effort, Ha-yoon struggled to break free. The burning sensation from the man’s touch sent shivers down his spine, and his breathing grew ragged.

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“What exactly are you trying to do?”
“Ever seen anything like this before? You wouldn’t normally see this in these parts.”

Without further ado, the man pulled out the gun he had used earlier. In a ruined city, the only weapons against machines were modified guns or crude spears.

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“It’s an electromagnetic gun. With it, you can sever the system linked to that tin can over there. Convenient, isn’t it?”

There was something hidden in his tone that Ha-yoon couldn’t quite decipher. When Ha-yoon merely stared silently, the man’s lips curled into a smile.

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“Isn’t it hard to go it alone?”
“…What exactly are you saying?”
“Let me say it one more time: I’m out here killing those machines.”

Stepping fully under the umbrella, the man bent his upper body slightly. Their eyes met again in the dim light, and Ha-yoon felt as if he were frozen in those deep, dark eyes.

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“My friends, too, want to kill machines.”
“……”
“And you don’t seem any different.”

The man smiled charmingly as he continued,
“It looks like our goals line up pretty well. How about we team up?”

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It was an invitation to join forces. In a low whisper, his red lips curved into a sly smile. Ha-yoon stared at that dazzling smile, and his whole body shuddered.

“What am I supposed to trust?”
“Huh?”
“Even if you might be one of those center dwellers, why would I join up with you?”

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Ha-yoon closed his eyes deeply, as if to hide his confused gaze, then opened them again. He hadn’t been resurrected long; he was still gathering his strength.

“Enough of your ploys and get lost.”
With those final words, Ha-yoon kicked off the ground and ran.

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The man watched silently as Ha-yoon fled desperately. Then, from behind him, another voice—quiet until now—spoke.

“Boss.”
“Oh, you saved him, and now he’s running off…” The man chuckled softly, his shoulders trembling slightly.

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“Should we chase him?”
“Just let him go. Where could he possibly run?”

The rain grew thicker, and the night deepened. Staying here any longer would be dangerous. The man looked over at where Ha-yoon had been and then turned away.

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“Come find me again when the sun comes up, alright?”
A clear smile lingered on his face as he disappeared into the dark.