DRAM Ch 7

When Ha-yoon remained silent, Yeo Yeon-oh casually lowered his gun with a shrug. The shelter people—confused and wary—fixed their hardened expressions on him.

The machine that Yeo Yeon-oh had sniped let out a final, desperate clatter before its light went out completely—a total death. Every machine that had been strutting like a dog now turned its gaze squarely toward Yeo Yeon-oh.

“What—how did you kill it…?”  

“…Is it really a human?”

It was well past nightfall. The very idea that an outsider would come here was nearly unbelievable. Shrewd eyes shifted between Yeo Yeon-oh and the fallen machine.

Ha-yoon, with a face drained of expression, stared fixedly at Yeo Yeon-oh. Calmly meeting his gaze, the man then lowered his eyes and gently curled his lips upward. His disheveled golden hair framed his handsome forehead.

Murmurs gradually grew among the onlookers. Only Lee Yu-won, who had heard the situation, seemed to suspect who Yeo Yeon-oh might be, stepping forward to shield him. Even though the machines hadn’t been completely disposed of, everyone’s attention was split—and Ha-yoon’s face twisted in disapproval.

“You sure know how to make an entrance every time,” someone remarked.

Yeo Yeon-oh quickly hushed the commotion. His languid voice—like one seeping in at dawn—rose above the mechanical clamor. Casting a sideways glance, he walked slowly around the factory. He completely ignored the murderous glare of the machines fixed on him.

“You look like you’re having a hard time. Need a hand?” he asked.

With each step Yeo Yeon-oh took, the machines’ movements grew more pronounced—as if a predator were sizing up its prey. Just as his lips began to form more words, he stopped short.

“Uh, hey!”  

In an instant, a machine screeched as it lunged at Yeo Yeon-oh. Unruffled, he glanced at the onrushing machine before turning his head back to meet Ha-yoon’s eyes.

“Hyung, isn’t that guy about to die? Why are you just standing there? What should we do?”  

In Yeo Yeon-oh’s eyes, there was an unsettling calm—as if he were perfectly at ease even on the brink of death. Watching him, Ha-yoon clenched his fists and muttered a curse under his breath.

Without a wasted moment, Yeo Yeon-oh raised his gun and fired at the machine’s outstretched arm—as if aiming to pierce its very belly. Three shots rang out in rapid succession, and the machine froze with an eerie groan.

“Ah… I almost died there.”

Feigning a surprised laugh, Yeo Yeon-oh smiled as if nothing were amiss. Ha-yoon, still steadying his trembling arm, glared at him. A curse that had been held back burst forth.

“Fuck, this is bullshit!”

Already pushed to his limits, Ha-yoon’s anger boiled over at Yeo Yeon-oh’s nonchalant demeanor. His expression hardened as he glared—his voice laced with bitter frustration.

“This is no joke, is it?”

After a tense silence, Yeo Yeon-oh casually scanned the area. After a moment, he nonchalantly tossed a small, silver object—resembling a bullet—at a nearby machine. With a sharp “bang!” it stuck to the machine’s body and exploded.

“Man, I’m serious about this,” Yeo Yeon-oh declared as the machine’s wild thrashing subsided into a pathetic death. His words caught Ha-yoon’s attention.

“Since you saved me, I’ll help you out,” Yeo Yeon-oh added, his tone all too authoritative.

Ha-yoon didn’t reply; he merely tilted his head and watched as Yeo Yeon-oh glanced back over his shoulder.

“Why? Is something behind me?”  

There was nothing but darkness stretching along the street.

“Guess you just don’t like having too many friends around. I came alone.”

Instead of Ha-yoon, it was the shelter people who began to murmur among themselves, trying to deduce who Yeo Yeon-oh was. Even Old Man Kim was among them, his bright eyes mingling with uncertainty as he watched Yeo Yeon-oh.

“Why are they here?” someone asked.

“Because of him,” another replied.

“Because of me?”

Yeo Yeon-oh pointed a single finger at himself, tilting his head in a puzzled manner. His eyes then dropped to a machine writhing on the floor, and though his expression remained soft, his eyes betrayed a hint of contempt.

“…Why?” came a quiet, puzzled murmur.

Sighing, Ha-yoon gathered his thoughts. Yeo Yeon-oh had arrived here and two machines had been completely neutralized—a feat that no amount of brute force alone could have accomplished. There was simply no way to win with raw firepower.

Without wasting time, Ha-yoon strode purposefully toward Yeo Yeon-oh. He reached out, lifting the hem of Yeo Yeon-oh’s coat—and discovered a sleek gun he’d seen earlier that very day.

“Let me borrow that,” Ha-yoon said.

In a flash, Yeo Yeon-oh’s eyes widened in amusement, and he chuckled lightly.

“Feel free to use it.”

Though Ha-yoon wasn’t eager to accept help, he needed the weapon. After a brief glance at the unfamiliar gun, he turned and aimed once more. Three shots later, the machine in front of him fell silent.

Yeo Yeon-oh’s own gun might have hit elsewhere, but this time it struck Ha-yoon’s target—a pain so fierce it reminded him all too well of his own suffering.

“Wow…”

From behind, Yeo Yeon-oh’s genuine admiration rang out. Could it really be that easy to shoot without a single missed shot, even with a weapon he wasn’t used to? As Ha-yoon’s eyes met his, Yeo Yeon-oh’s faint smile deepened, and Ha-yoon couldn’t help but grimace at the sight.

“I always knew you were different…”  

“……”  

“Seeing it in person makes me want more.”

Without further comment, Ha-yoon passed the gun back. Watching him intently, Yeo Yeon-oh tilted his head slightly.

“You’re not taking it?”  

“It isn’t mine, you know.”  

“You could take it.”  

After a brief pause, Ha-yoon met Yeo Yeon-oh’s steady gaze and declared,

“You said it with your own mouth.”  

“But you also said you don’t want to be on the same team as me.”  

“I do want a gun.”  

Yeo Yeon-oh continued with a playful grin,

“If you come with me, I’ll get you even better ones.”

In response to his lighthearted banter, Ha-yoon exhaled sharply. Here they were, standing amid a crumbling factory, offering banal promises in a place where everything was falling apart.

Just then, as Ha-yoon attempted to hide the gun under his T-shirt, a voice cut through the tension.

“Ha-yoon!”

In an instant, the unspoken battle halted. The shelter people, having confirmed the machines were dead, raised their voices. Overwhelmed by their unyielding stares, Ha-yoon’s head pounded. His body, battered and on the brink of collapse, began to spurt blood from his mouth—there was no energy left for explanations.

“Lee Yu-won, round everyone up and get inside. Make sure that the inner door is shut tight.”

Hearing this, Lee Yu-won’s face twisted in an instant.

“And what about you?”  

“Let’s talk.”

At that, Lee Yu-won, standing behind Yeo Yeon-oh, tensed as his eyes narrowed. Meanwhile, Yeo Yeon-oh merely smiled with his hands behind his back—his calm, steady gaze almost mocking the chaos.

Eventually, Lee Yu-won lowered his head and, gathering everyone, led them inside. Before departing, he clutched the door and called softly to Ha-yoon:

“Hurry up. If you don’t come in, I’ll have to go out and look for you.”

Ha-yoon nodded quietly. Through the narrow gap in the door, Kim Old Man fixed a serious stare on both Yeo Yeon-oh and Ha-yoon. There was no time to decipher the meaning of those looks. With a heavy thud, the sturdy door closed, severing the space.

In an instant, silence fell. The long-forgotten chill of desolation quickly blanketed the area. A dead machine lay scorched black on the floor, and between it and the wall stood two living men.

A few weak embers crackled softly, the only sound piercing the silence. Every sense was on high alert as shards of moonlight streamed through broken factory windows. The fragmented beams spilled across the floor, caressing Ha-yoon’s tired body.

“Finally, I’m in the mood to talk,” a gentle voice broke the stillness. Its sound merged softly with the quiet of the early morning. Yeo Yeon-oh, his face still bearing the traces of night, smiled as he spoke. Ha-yoon absorbed the scene silently.

His soft platinum hair shimmered in the light, and his dark-blue eyes—framed by long lashes—held a gentle smile. The perfectly sculpted features, from his proud nose to the subtly curved lips, spoke of an almost otherworldly beauty.

“Am I something to look forward to?”  

There wasn’t a single flaw in his features. His small face, with every detail in place, reminded Ha-yoon of a long-lost character from an old book. A self-mocking smile tugged at Ha-yoon’s lips as he pondered.

If Yeo Yeon-oh were the hero, then what was Ha-yoon? Just a foolish, easily beguiled soul?

“Why do you look at me like that?”

A soft voice tickled Ha-yoon’s ear, easing the tension with its gentle warmth. The steady flow of Yeo Yeon-oh’s gaze carried with it a comforting warmth.

“Do you think I finally look a little pretty?”

Yeo Yeon-oh laughed brightly as the gentle light of dawn bathed him. It was a sight that stood in stark contrast to the grim ruins of the factory—a fleeting moment of beauty amid desolation.