BAI Ch 8

To Ryujin, who struggled to understand, Sung Jaekyung explained by drawing a chart himself. Commander Shin Haebeom’s military rank was Brigadier General, and Deputy Commander Jin Chiwoo was a Lieutenant Colonel.

Sung Jaekyung often called Ryujin out during the least crowded times at the staff cafeteria. It was an invitation to eat together. Lately, Ryujin had been eating with Sung Jaekyung every day. At first, he thought he was just an annoying soldier, but after learning that Sung Jaekyung was the same age as Gwak Hyeonwoo, his heart softened. Even Shin Haebeom didn’t interfere when Sung Jaekyung said he was going to eat with him.

Ryujin marked the days Sung Jaekyung wasn’t on duty on a calendar. Those were good days. Days when he could have dinner with Sung Jaekyung too.

“Lunch looks good today. It’s been a while since I had noodles.”

“Yeah.”

“If there’s anything you want to eat, write it down and put it in the suggestion box over there. The nutritionist says they refer to it when planning the menu.”

“Yeah.”

“Your face looks a lot better. You’re still putting on the compress at night, right? If it runs out, don’t go to the infirmary alone; tell me. I’ll get it for you.”

“Yeah…”

“You don’t have to keep your head down like that. There’s a wall in front, so no one’s staring.”

Still, words and people’s gazes existed. No matter that it was Shin Haebeom’s decision, Ryujin was from an anti-government organization. There wasn’t a single person who didn’t know about the hostage incident in the infirmary. He heard the affected military doctor had finally submitted his resignation.

“Ugh, damn it, that’s annoying.”

He definitely heard it. He didn’t have the courage to turn around. Judging by Sung Jaekyung’s chopsticks pausing in midair, he must have heard it too. Of course, he wasn’t deaf.

“Don’t mind it.”

“…….”

“It could be directed at me.”

“Why you?”

Sung Jaekyung cleared his throat with a cough.

“Because I took the Sunbae batch’s entire line.”

“What’s that?”

“Technically, I’m a high school graduate. I dropped out of the military academy. Man, my family went nuts back then. They were desperate to make their only son a commissioned officer, the whole family scraping by in Gwangseong, and I quit halfway. My dad at the time was…”

Ryujin quietly put down his chopsticks. Sung Jaekyung was a good person. But there was an invisible wall between them. Even sitting side by side eating together, Ryujin couldn’t shake the feeling that Sung Jaekyung was a different kind of person from him.

✶⋆.˚

“You stare at the mirror like crazy every morning.”

Ryujin flinched and turned around. Jin Chiwoo, with a towel around his neck, sneered.

“Why do you do things that’ll get you beaten?”

Ryujin ignored him, turned his head, and gathered his toiletries.

“Well, look at that. Ignoring me?”

Last night, Jin Chiwoo had stumbled into the office drunk out of his mind and collapsed on the sofa. He snored loudly and slept sprawled out. The noise kept Ryujin from sleeping. He stayed up all night with his eyes open.

The man was utterly incomprehensible. No matter how drunk he was, the audacity to sleep in the same space as a terrorist who had tried to assassinate him was astounding. His thunderous snoring and sleep-talking were just as bad. He mumbled all night, driving Ryujin nearly insane.

Ryujin genuinely wanted to smother Jin Chiwoo’s face with a cushion. Killing Jin Chiwoo felt like it could avenge Gwak Hyeonwoo’s injustice.

The only reason he didn’t act was because of Noona. It was his last chance to take down Kwon Sehyuk and collapse Kwon Joohyuk, to restore Noona’s honor.

Of course, Jin Chiwoo had no way of knowing Ryujin’s inner thoughts. That’s why he said things like this.

“If I were you, I’d be bathing every morning and hitting up entertainment agencies. People need to know their place. You’ve got to coldly assess and analyze what you have, what you’re good at, and throw yourself into that field. In my opinion, your brain’s a lost cause, but the one redeeming thing is that you look like your Noona…”

A loud bang rang out. Jin Chiwoo, who was chugging a hangover drink, jumped. Yellow liquid from the can spilled onto the front of his white T-shirt.

“Hey! You rude little punk!”

Ryujin ignored the lion’s roar pounding on the bathroom door. He took out his toothbrush from the issued waterproof pack and paused. The face in the mirror was a wreck.

His wounds healed slowly. Purple bruises with yellowing edges covered his entire face. The burn scar on his temple could be hidden by his hair, but it was a mark that would stay for life.

Ryujin sighed and pressed his cheek hard. The strong medication left his face numb.

Jin Chiwoo seemed to think he wanted these wounds to heal quickly. But it was the opposite. Ryujin hoped the scars would last as long as possible. If he regained his original face, someone might recognize him. In the hallway, the cafeteria, or the bathroom, someone might grab his shoulder and ask, “You’re Ryu Yeonbi’s little brother, aren’t you?”

✶⋆.˚

Gi Woohee allowed Ryujin to memorize code words in a corner of the shooting range if he met the target accuracy rate. Sung Jaekyung helped with memorization as long as it didn’t interfere with his own practice. They even did actual radio drills. Ryujin often worked one-on-one with Sung Jaekyung, but sometimes Gi Woohee joined in.

She pointed out code words that were rarely used and easily forgotten or those with similar syllables that were easy to mix up. Thanks to her, Ryujin managed to score decently on Shin Haebeom’s flashcard tests. Of course, the warped system of getting ten smacks for every mistake left the back of his head in tatters…

Before he knew it, Ryujin had grown fond of the 11th-floor crew.

The 11th-floor crew referred to Gi Woohee, Sung Jaekyung, and the other “11th-floor office workers.” When Ryujin heard that Gi Woohee had turned down Shin Haebeom’s offer to move to the top floor, he thought it suited her. Being number one on the 11th floor fit her better than being number three on the 12th.

Gi Woohee wasn’t exactly warm toward Ryujin. She was closer to indifferent. She supervised his shooting, but it was just that—supervision, not special attention. Still, Ryujin got the sense that Gi Woohee didn’t hate him.

With the leader acting that way, the 11th-floor staff naturally followed suit. They were kind to Ryujin. They greeted him in public places, gave directions when he got lost, and taught him how to use unfamiliar high-tech facilities.

The trouble started below that.

Even going down to the 10th floor made him anxious. Ryujin walked quickly with his head bowed and shoulders hunched. Once, he made the grave mistake of overtaking Shin Haebeom.

He was dragged straight to the bathroom. He got slapped hard across the face. While his head was reeling from the blow, he got a code word wrong and was kicked in the stomach. Ryujin fell to his knees on the bathroom floor and vomited the entire hamburger steak he’d had for lunch.

Meals with Shin Haebeom were horrific. His promise to manage every aspect of Ryujin’s life wasn’t a lie. He monitored Ryujin’s every move and unleashed verbal abuse and violence without mercy if anything deviated from his standards. It took two forms: in front of others or secretly where no one could see.

Table manners and code word memorization fell under the former. Shin Haebeom was a textbook on dining etiquette. And he wanted Ryujin to be exactly like him. After one meal with Shin Haebeom, Ryujin’s forehead and the backs of his hands were bright red. He got hit for all sorts of reasons: making smacking noises, dropping grains of rice.

Others saw it as education. Shin Haebeom’s smiling face and affectionate tone made them mistake the violence for instructional guidance. The cook who piled bulgogi onto Ryujin’s plate, saying he was too skinny, called it training you couldn’t buy with money, saying if he learned it well, he wouldn’t feel out of place at a hotel restaurant and gave a thumbs-up. Some even teared up, saying someone like Shin Haebeom should be working at Shinryonggwan, but he was stuck here and not getting promoted because of them. It was a comedy show. Ryujin couldn’t manage his expression.

Shin Haebeom must have found that particularly irksome.

As soon as they finished eating, he dragged Ryujin to the cafeteria. Staff who had finished their meals early were still enjoying the remaining lunch break. The space, meant for relaxation, was spacious with good lighting. The aroma of coffee beans was pleasant.

Shin Haebeom took a seat at a table. Then he demanded Ryujin pull out the code word flashcards. Ryujin was flustered.

Shin Haebeom’s flashcard tests happened every night. It was broad daylight now. Ryujin didn’t carry the headache-inducing code word flashcards 24/7.

“I don’t have them.”

He answered honestly. The murmurs grew louder. How dare he, so insolent, in front of the Brigadier General…

Ryujin wanted to cover his ears. He could guess Shin Haebeom’s intent to test him here. It was to humiliate him in front of everyone.

“Can’t be helped. Guess what I say.”

He answered the first few. But soon his thoughts scattered. The people’s stares, their whispers. Ryujin’s lips trembled, and he bolted from his seat. He didn’t want to think about what people witnessing that scene would think or say.

Without a key card, he couldn’t take the elevator. Ryujin headed for the emergency stairs. There were members smoking there. Ryujin hesitated and backed away.

He wandered for a while but found no escape. In the end, Ryujin crouched on the floor in front of the elevator. His back felt cold.

Ryujin pulled his knees to his chest and buried his face between them.

He thought Shin Haebeom would chase him right away, but he appeared much later, slurping an iced coffee.

Shin Haebeom’s boots stopped in front of Ryujin’s feet. A large hand patted his head.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

His hair was grabbed, and he was shoved into the elevator. Shin Haebeom threw his coffee aside before the doors even closed. Then he lunged like a beast in heat. He pinned Ryujin’s wrists above his head and crushed their lips together. Shin Haebeom’s key card took them straight to the top floor.

The elevator doors opened, and Ryujin collapsed in the hallway.

“Ah… ah.”

His body convulsed with shock and fear. His legs wouldn’t move. As Ryujin crawled, Shin Haebeom’s large hand grabbed his ankle.

“Agh!”

He was dragged back. Ryujin screamed, clawing at the marble floor, but no one was there to help.

“Don’t, don’t…!”

His belt was undone. His pants and underwear were pulled down together. Ryujin thrashed, but he couldn’t overcome the weight pinning him or Shin Haebeom’s grip. His uniform jacket was yanked up to his neck. The T-shirt underneath rolled up too. A rough, firm palm clawed at his chest. Terror raced through his body.

“Don’t! I said don’t! You crazy bastard!”

Fingers dug between his buttocks. Long, knobby fingers… Ryujin clenched his teeth.

The fingers increased from two to three. Something cold and hard rubbed against the entrance.

“What, what…”

Shin Haebeom snickered.

“Eat it.”

It was ice. He didn’t know when Shin Haebeom had grabbed it. A cube of ice with rounded edges was roughly rubbed between Ryujin’s buttocks.

“Ugh…!”

The ice melted against Ryujin’s body heat. Shin Haebeom pulled Ryujin’s waist, who was trembling and trying to crawl forward, into an embrace. The ice and fingers pushed in together.

“Ah… no, no. Pull it out…!”

His lifted hips shook violently. Shin Haebeom kept pushing the ice inside.

“Ah, ah, ah!”

“Does it hurt?”

“Ah, it hurts.”

“I’m enjoying it.”

Long fingers stirred, prodded, and scraped the inner walls. Ryujin buried his head in the floor and sobbed.

By the time the ice had completely melted, a thick glans entered between his buttocks. Sticky precum smeared the entrance.

Ryujin’s jaw trembled. He weakly reached back with one hand to slap Shin Haebeom’s thigh. Don’t, stop. The other arm pushed with his elbow, trying to move forward.

“What’s with you? Stay still.”

“No, no… no… hng, ah, agh!”

A barely healed wound tore. Blood trickled down his thigh. Ryujin screamed and cried. His wails, close to shrieks, filled the wide, empty 12th floor.

He thought it was over.

He thought the brutal rapes in the interrogation room and shower were retaliation for his attempt to assassinate Jin Chiwoo. Now that they were on the same side, he thought it wouldn’t happen again. He was wrong. The futile hope was proven false by Shin Haebeom, raging like a beast behind him.

“Your video came out great… a masterpiece that’ll go down in rape porn history. It could get a hundred-year-old man hard.”

Hot breath hit his nape. Shin Haebeom raised a finger and pressed Ryujin’s nipple, stiff from stimulation. He rubbed it hard with his fingertip. When touched there, Ryujin’s cheeks trembled faintly. It meant he felt it in his chest. Even if his lower half was useless.

Shin Haebeom laughed, biting Ryujin’s shoulder. The inner walls clinging to his cock were tight. They sucked him in when he thrust and clung reluctantly when he twisted out.

Shin Haebeom grabbed Ryujin’s neck. He adjusted his grip to keep Ryujin from passing out and moved his hips.

Ryujin, who had been trying to crawl forward, eventually went limp, his strength gone. He swayed like a puppet to Shin Haebeom’s movements. The sensation of being pierced, pressed, and torn apart left him unable to think. Tears streamed down his face. Every move Shin Haebeom made hurt his stomach. It was like an invisible hand was churning his insides… agonizing. When Shin Haebeom finally came with a ragged breath, Ryujin vomited.

Shin Haebeom’s face twisted.

“Agh!”

His hair was yanked. Ryujin clawed at Shin Haebeom’s wrist, twisting wildly. But he was no match for Shin Haebeom’s grip.

His bare back, exposed by his rolled-up clothes, scraped against the marble floor. The grazed skin burned like it had been scalded.

“Let go! Don’t!”

Shin Haebeom didn’t stop. By the time he reached the office door, Ryujin’s pants and underwear, which had been down to his knees, were barely clinging to his ankles.

Shin Haebeom kicked the door open. Ryujin was shoved inside by the brute force and fell to the floor. He rolled and hit his back against a desk leg.

“Ugh.”

His breath caught. He must have hit something wrong. Ryujin curled up like a shrimp on the floor, clutching his back. He struggled to breathe, his vision turning yellow.

“Urk.”

Nausea hit again. Having already vomited in the hallway, all that came up was yellow bile. Shin Haebeom’s face, looking down at him, was cold.

“Get up.”

“Hng… sob, hng.”

“Get up now!”

“I want to, you bastard!”

“You’ve got a knack for pissing people off.”

Shin Haebeom grabbed Ryujin’s collar and hauled him up. Ryujin’s feet dangled in the air, his thin body spinning. Shin Haebeom slammed him onto Jin Chiwoo’s desk.

“Agh!”

The impact rocked his head and back. Ryujin’s head lolled limply. In his blurry vision, a black nameplate came into view. Bold silver letters read: Disciplinary Training Corps Deputy Commander… Jin Chiwoo.

“No, no.”

Ryujin mumbled instinctively. He thrashed to escape Shin Haebeom’s hands. A slap came without warning.

His scabbed lips split open again. His slender neck whipped back and forth, limp. When Ryujin finally went slack, Shin Haebeom smiled and undid his belt. The cock that had just been inside Jung Ryujin was already hard. Painfully so.

He stripped the clothes completely off Ryujin’s ankles. He grabbed his knees and hooked them over his shoulders.

Ryujin groaned from the pain of his spine bending.

“Ugh…”

“Relax.”

“Don’t… don’t. Not here…!”

“Want to go to the interrogation room then?”

Ryujin tried to lift his upper body, but the crushing weight only let him move his head. His outstretched hand grasped at air. The glans, wet with blood and semen, pushed into the entrance.

“Hng…”

The ceiling was all yellow. Ryujin gasped with his mouth open. Shin Haebeom’s sweat dripped onto his bare chest. He only slightly furrowed his brow, his face otherwise unchanged. Only Ryujin was falling apart.

“Ah, ah, ah… hng, ah…!”

After thrusting for a while, Shin Haebeom held his breath and leaned forward. The penetration deepened. Coarse pubic hair scraped Ryujin’s cheeks. Ryujin knew he was about to come.

“Do it outside. Outside!”

Shin Haebeom didn’t listen. He came deep inside Ryujin, holding his hips tightly to keep him from pulling away.

“Ah, no, no… no…”

Ryujin felt everything from Shin Haebeom. His body heat, his breath, the mix of heavy cologne and sweat. The scent of a male. The thick, hard shaft with pulsing veins twitched.

Shin Haebeom’s large hand grabbed Ryujin’s trembling cheeks and squeezed. Ryujin squeezed his eyes shut.

Shin Haebeom came for a long time. There was so much that semen dripped from the tightly sealed entrance. Ryujin shrank his neck and shivered. His whole body ached.

Finally, Shin Haebeom pulled out. The way he twisted out, scraping the inner walls to the last moment, was vicious. He wiped the blood and semen from his cock onto Ryujin’s chest.

Ryujin slid limply off the desk.

“Hng…”

Lying on his side, he gasped for air. Shin Haebeom knelt beside his head. Ryuj Sacrament eyes widened when he saw between his legs.

“No, I can’t… no. I can’t.”

For every inch Ryujin scooted back, Shin Haebeom closed the exact distance. Soon, Ryujin’s back hit the cold wall. Despair washed over him.

“Please…”

His lips trembled, and tears fell.

“Please stop…”

Ryujin collapsed on the floor, sobbing. He knew how pathetic he looked. Bleeding and leaking semen between his legs, begging for mercy.

But he wanted to live. He didn’t want to hurt anymore. One more time, and he felt he’d die. Ryujin grabbed Shin Haebeom’s boots.

“Please.”

Shin Haebeom offered a compromise.

“Suck it.”

“What?”

“You don’t know how to give a blowjob?”

Revulsion crossed Ryujin’s face. Shin Haebeom didn’t bother pleading. He grabbed Ryujin’s arm and pulled him up.

“Fine. Turn around.”

“No, no, no!”

“You said you can’t do it. So I’ll handle it.”

“I’ll do it. I’ll do it!”

“What?”

“With… my mouth.”

“Say it clearly so I understand. What?”

“…….”

“Jung Ryujin, answer me. What are you going to do for me?”

Ryujin shouted, enraged.

“I’ll suck your dick, you bastard!”

Shin Haebeom sighed heavily.

“You vomited earlier. How are you going to do it with such a weak stomach?”

“I can do it!”

“If you puke again, I’ll be really upset.”

“I said I can do it!”

Shin Haebeom grinned widely.

✶⋆.˚

Ryujin crawled on his knees toward Shin Haebeom, who was perched on the desk.

“Do it.”

His trembling hands gripped Shin Haebeom’s thighs. The rock-hard muscles were palpable. Facing the heavy mass between his legs, rage boiled inside. This bastard… a demon who’d never suffer enough even in hell.

“What are you doing?”

Ryujin’s face disappeared between Shin Haebeom’s legs.

“With your face… yeah. Like that. Rub it.”

He did as told. Ryujin rubbed Shin Haebeom’s cock with his face. It was already fully erect, rock-hard.

“Open your mouth.”

His hair was pulled. Ryujin winced but soon stuck out his tongue and licked the glans.

“Good…”

Shin Haebeom smiled, satisfied. He hooked his knees over Ryujin’s shoulders and stroked the head bobbing between his legs with one hand. Looking at the red hair tangled in his fingers, he thought, Jung Ryujin would look much better with black hair.

“Ah…”

Shin Haebeom tilted his head back. Jung Ryujin’s mouth was tight and hot. It wasn’t skilled by any stretch, but he liked the even teeth grazing the glans and the tongue lightly brushing the shaft.

The moment of climax arrived. Shin Haebeom grabbed Ryujin’s head as he instinctively tried to pull away. He clamped Ryujin’s neck with his thighs, making him swallow every last drop. Only when he saw Ryujin’s Adam’s apple move did Shin Haebeom relax his legs.

“Did you swallow it all?”

Ryujin collapsed on the floor. Violent retching began.

“Ha…”

All Shin Haebeom could do was laugh.

He sighed, brushing back his disheveled hair. His insides churned.

“Hey.”

He lifted Ryujin’s gasping chin with the tip of his boot.

“Are you messing with me?”

“No, no. I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Then what’s this about?”

Ryujin’s tears wet Shin Haebeom’s boots.

“You said you could do it.”

His mind went blank. Ryujin, slumped on the floor, stared blankly at Shin Haebeom’s fist flying toward his face.

✶⋆.˚

Captain Choi Yushin, who filled the vacancy left by military doctor Oh Jaeyoon, was Shin Haebeom’s classmate from military school. They bonded among the fresh-faced 20-something recruits because they were similar in age.

Unlike Shin Haebeom, who was from Paohuai, Choi Yushin came from a good background. His parents and siblings were all highly educated medical professionals. If they’d met in civilian life, Choi Yushin and Shin Haebeom likely wouldn’t have exchanged a single word.

But they met in the unique environment of military school. Sharing grueling training, close-quarters dorm life, and the pressure of being older than their peers, they quickly became close. Though Choi Yushin graduated a step ahead… life in the military police must not have been easy. One simple check-in call had him quitting and rushing over here.

Shin Haebeom felt bad for young Lieutenant Oh Jaeyoon, but he thought it was for the best. <Red Tiger> still lacked a reliable personal doctor.

“Did you two do it?”

Choi Yushin, examining Ryujin’s buttocks, said. He wiped around the affected area with alcohol-soaked cotton.

Jin Chiwoo, tearing into jokbal with his hands, grumbled.

“It wasn’t me. Don’t lump me in with that guy.”

“…….”

“I’m serious! Beom-ah, Choi’s getting the wrong idea. Tell him.”

“Chiwoo didn’t do it.”

Shin Haebeom, now in a comfortable T-shirt, said. He tossed his shirt, stained with Ryujin’s blood and saliva, into the trash without hesitation.

“I got carried away and lost control for a bit.”

Choi Yushin chuckled. He scooped up ointment with a gloved finger.

“You’ve changed a lot, Shin Haebeom.”

“Have I?”

“Lost control from excitement… you think I’d buy that?”

“Can anyone be perfect?”

The moment Choi Yushin spread Ryujin’s buttocks, Shin Haebeom shouted.

“What are you doing?!”

“You startled me. What?”

“Why are your fingers poking Jung Ryujin’s ass?”

“Should I stitch it then? Make a bigger wound that’ll heal with meds? This is delicate tissue; if it heals wrong, it’s a lifetime of trouble.”

“Forget it. I’ll do it.”

Shin Haebeom snatched the ointment tube from Choi Yushin. He snapped on latex gloves and positioned himself between Ryujin’s legs.

“Then why’d you call me here?”

“To eat jokbal.”

“Jokbal, all the way up to the 12th floor?”

“Take this chance to get close to Chiwoo. It’s still a bit awkward, isn’t it?”

“What about the patient?”

“I’m watching him right now.”

Shin Haebeom’s eyes narrowed. It meant to stop arguing and do as he was told.

Choi Yushin sighed inwardly. The smell of jokbal was nice, but he had no appetite. He quickly went downstairs, using the excuse that he couldn’t leave the infirmary for long.

After applying ointment to Ryujin’s wounds, dressing him in loose pants, laying him on his side, and covering him with a blanket up to his neck, Shin Haebeom sat on the sofa. It was already close to midnight. He stared at the jokbal, now reduced to bones, in a daze.

“I told you to half-ass it and come back.”

Jin Chiwoo threw a jab.

“What, you’re taking care of him so tenderly because he’s pretty?”

“He is pretty, isn’t he?”

“That’s not what I meant…”

“I won’t see him for a while.”

Ugh, Jin Chiwoo lamented.

“Two weeks in Howollu, just two weeks. You couldn’t hold it in for that long and messed the kid up like this? Are you even human?”

“Why are you mad?”

“Because our Yena’s going to have a hard time, you bastard!”

Jin Chiwoo kicked a trash can, sending it flying to the opposite wall. Shin Haebeom took out a cigarette and lit it.

“Since when was she ‘our Yena’?”

“Why? Can’t I call her that?”

“Yeah. You can’t.”

“You damn bastard.”

A brief silence followed, and Jin Chiwoo spat out.

“Don’t you have anything to say to me?”

“About what?”

“The interview with Mother.”

The smile faded from Shin Haebeom’s face.

“…She looked very frail.”

“Did you have to handle it like that? Would it have killed you to tell me first?”

“And if I had?”

Shin Haebeom said with self-deprecation.

“If I’d told you Mother’s interview was coming up, would you have said, ‘Yes, sir, go ahead and write a novel with it’?”

“…….”

“Timing matters, Chiwoo. You’ve got to row when the tide comes in. People’s attention fades faster than you think.”

“There had to be another way!”

Shin Haebeom blew smoke into Jin Chiwoo’s face.

“Another way? Like what?”

“…….”

“See? You’ve got no ideas. Just do what I say, Chiwoo. Would I ever do anything to hurt you or Mother?”

Their gazes locked for a long moment. Shin Haebeom was the first to look away. He stood from the sofa and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window. He looked down at the night view spread before him.

The Disciplinary Training Corps headquarters was on the 12th floor. Still low. The Roderbelt Tower, once the headquarters of Seogyeong Pharmaceuticals and now reclaimed by the state, had 58 floors.

“We’ve got to climb higher, Chiwoo.”

For those trapped in the prison of their origins, there was no ladder for upward mobility. That’s why countless talents in the shadows despaired, crumbled, and were buried.

Shin Haebeom wanted to kick those idiots in the head. No ladder? Then make the guy next to you kneel and step on him to climb.

“Don’t question what I do, Chiwoo. The more you do, the more it complicates your head. You don’t need to think so hard. Just follow my plan. We’ve done well so far, haven’t we?”

“I’m not doubting you…”

“I’m sorry for visiting Mother without permission.”

“But,” Shin Haebeom drove the point home.

“It was for your sake.”

“Broadcasting to the nation that I’m a debtor is for my sake?”

“There are different kinds of debt.”

Shin Haebeom held up four fingers. Food expenses, medical bills, joint sureties, and inherited debt. If framed properly, these could easily win public sympathy.

“It’s not easy. You’d have to have been pretty flashy normally. Your cars, too.”

“That was exaggerated for the broadcast!”

“I know. You’re always one step from bankruptcy. But what if it wasn’t your choice? What if it was an unavoidable decision to maintain dignity as a high-ranking official and cover Mother’s hefty medical bills? Or if extravagance was your only escape from the stress of overwhelming work?”

Shin Haebeom smiled slyly.

“That’s the scenario.”

“You bastard…”

“Drop your pride, Chiwoo. That stuff won’t get you a single rank promotion. Won’t earn you a penny. You know that, so why act like this?”

“I know. I know, but…”

“Come here, Chiwoo.”

Shin Haebeom beckoned.

“Am I some bastard to you?”

“If you’re not mad at me, come here. Let’s check out the view.”

Jin Chiwoo grumbled but went to Shin Haebeom’s side. Shin Haebeom slung an arm around Jin Chiwoo’s shoulder.

“You’re not mad at me, right?”

When Jin Chiwoo didn’t answer, Shin Haebeom pressed.

“Hey, Chiwoo. You’re not mad at me, right?”

“I’m not mad. I just… wanted to make sure what you ordered was right.”

Shin Haebeom offered a cigarette. Jin Chiwoo obediently took the filter in his mouth.

“Light?”

“Right here, sir.”

Jin Chiwoo exhaled a puff of smoke and muttered.

“Nice view.”

✶⋆.˚

Ryujin spent a full day bedridden. If Jin Chiwoo hadn’t kicked him awake, he’d likely have stayed down not just tonight but until tomorrow morning.

His body, changed into fresh clothes, was clean. His wounds had been treated. But the problem was the sharp pain shooting up from deep between his buttocks. Ryujin let out a yelp the moment his feet touched the floor. He could barely stand, let alone walk.

Jin Chiwoo tossed him some Tylenol.

“Take it and wash up.”

“…….”

“Three minutes.”

Ryujin chewed and swallowed the bitter pills without water. With a body that wouldn’t cooperate, he managed to wash his face and brush his teeth, then changed under Jin Chiwoo’s watchful eye. It was the same outfit he’d worn to the shooting range with Shin Haebeom. It smelled of fabric softener, probably washed.

Ryujin recalled what happened at the shooting range. Shin Haebeom’s hands correcting his posture hadn’t felt unpleasant. It was touch without sexual intent.

So he had hoped. He thought there must be a reason Shin Haebeom was giving him a chance. He even thought that spending enough time together might help him understand Shin Haebeom a little.

He was wrong.

Such weak thoughts—he’d cast them out starting today.

Ryujin gritted his teeth, repeating to himself that Shin Haebeom wasn’t a proper human. He was cold, ruthless, and a vile egoist.

Ryujin took a deep breath and turned around. Jin Chiwoo handed him a cap and mask.

In the descending elevator, Ryujin flinched at his reflection on the wall. He looked like a textbook criminal.

“Where are we going?”

“Shut up.”

“What time is it?”

“I said shut your mouth.”

They went down to the underground parking lot. As soon as the elevator doors opened, a black Range Rover parked in plain sight flashed its headlights.

The tint made it impossible to see who was inside. Jin Chiwoo opened the back door of the Range Rover. Only after being tossed onto the seat like luggage did Ryujin realize this was Shin Haebeom’s personal car. A heart-shaped key ring, out of place in the modern black-and-silver interior, dangled cutely from the rearview mirror.

Jin Chiwoo handcuffed Ryujin’s wrists and secured them to the safety bar. Shin Haebeom, in the driver’s seat, took the key.

Even after driving for a while, Shin Haebeom said nothing. Finally, Ryujin spoke first.

“Where are we going?”

“A nice place.”

Ryujin wasn’t naive enough to take Shin Haebeom’s answer at face value. A million thoughts raced through his mind. Shin Haebeom glanced at Ryujin’s face in the rearview mirror and laughed.

“Scaredy-cat.”

“Tell me straight. Where are we going?”

“I said a nice place. Why don’t you trust people?”

“How am I supposed to trust you?”

Shin Haebeom whined.

“Lately, a lot of people don’t trust me. Why is that? Did I not build enough goodwill?”

Is he seriously saying that?

“Will it take long?”

“If you’re bored, look outside.”

“…Not in the mood.”

“Didn’t peg you for someone who holds grudges, Jung Ryujin. If you’re so narrow-minded, you can’t do big things.”

Ryujin almost kicked the front seat but stopped, unsure he could handle the consequences. Instead, he turned to the window. The tinted glass hid the interior from outside, but he could see clearly out.

The Range Rover was crossing Seongcheon Bridge, one of Gwangseong’s three major bridges, alongside Shinryong Bridge and Shinhwa Bridge.

Colorful lights poured over Ryujin’s face. Skyscrapers filled the skyline, countless neon signs reflected on the dark water… it was breathtaking. The starless, pitch-black night was mesmerizing, almost enough to make him forget the situation he was in.

After crossing the bridge, the Range Rover passed through a bustling, brightly lit avenue and entered a quiet national road. Overgrown trees stretched their branches inside the guardrail. The Range Rover kept climbing. The higher it went, the more dazzling the night city became, almost dizzying.

When a grand tiled roof supported by massive pillars came into view, Shin Haebeom suddenly veered onto a side path.

It wasn’t a road kind to large vehicles. Dense trees and thick bushes lined both sides, and the bumpy road made the car shake violently as it sped along.

“Slow down!”

“It’s fine. I know this road.”

“Do you always drive like this?”

“Not usually, but your reactions are fun.”

Ryujin wanted to strangle him. Shin Haebeom acted like he had two lives when others had only one.

When faint white lights appeared sporadically through the dense trees, Shin Haebeom slowed down and began driving with a gentleness incomparable to before.

The car stopped. Shin Haebeom said.

“Get out.”

“Where are we?”

“Where you’ll stay for two weeks. Probably the… happiest time of your entire life.”

Before Ryujin could ask what he meant, Shin Haebeom got out of the driver’s seat.

He uncuffed Ryujin and pulled him out of the car. Ryujin twisted to free his arm, but he couldn’t escape Shin Haebeom’s grip.

There was no time to look around. Ryujin was dragged helplessly. They stopped in front of a cherry-colored mahogany door. Shin Haebeom rattled the doorknob twice.

“Welcome.”

A woman holding a white lantern was smiling. She wore a sky-blue dress and had her hair in a braid… she was beautiful. Ryujin instinctively looked up at Shin Haebeom. He hadn’t heard anything about Shin Haebeom having a spouse. It was never reported on any broadcast. Could she be, not a spouse, but…

“Ow!”

Shin Haebeom’s fist smacked Ryujin’s head.

“Why’d you hit me!”

“No greeting? Why are you just staring like an idiot?”

Rough hands yanked off Ryujin’s cap and mask. Ryujin lowered his head, but Shin Haebeom grabbed his chin.

“Oh…”

Shin Yena swallowed a gasp.

She knew his body had been damaged by harsh torture. She’d been warned he’d look different from the photos and had prepared herself. What shocked Shin Yena was Ryujin’s eyes. Eyes steeped in distrust and loneliness. A dark, cold gaze.

A boyish face, a scrawny kid who’d shot up in height.

“You must be tired from the trip.”

Shin Yena smiled brightly. She felt she had to. It wasn’t just because of Shin Haebeom’s request. Seeing Ryujin, who avoided eye contact and hesitated, stirred her protective instincts.

“Have you eaten, Ryujin?”

“No, not yet…”

Shin Yena took Ryujin’s hand. It was startlingly cold.

“Cold, huh? Let’s go inside.”

Ryujin flinched but didn’t pull away. He kept glancing at Shin Haebeom nervously.

Shin Yena shot a glare at Shin Haebeom, who was grinning shamelessly. How much must he have terrorized the kid to make him like this?

“Let’s eat first. Our food here—I’m not just saying this because I’m the owner—is really good.”

Shin Yena led them to the Camellia Room. Shin Haebeom, seeing the spread, exclaimed.

“What a feast.”

But Shin Haebeom only drank a glass of cold water and stood up.

“Why? Not eating?”

“On duty.”

Shin Yena knew it was an excuse but didn’t stop her cousin Oppa from leaving. For the next two weeks, Ryujin was her responsibility. Not a family favor, but an order from a superior.

When Shin Haebeom left, Ryujin’s expression brightened. Shin Yena gave a wry smile inwardly.

“Eat slowly. No one’s going to steal it.”

“It’s… so delicious…”

Ryujin had a good appetite. He ate much more than expected.

Shin Yena watched Ryujin blow on hot baeksuk and eat. His cheeks, puffed up with food, moved adorably. Without realizing it, Shin Yena deboned the chicken and placed it on Ryujin’s plate.

“Here. Eat the meaty parts.”

“Okay…”

“Our specialty is actually fish, but that doesn’t mean the meat’s bad. Some guests come just for the meat. How is it? Tasty, right?”

“Yes. It’s so delicious…”

“Oppa’s ridiculous. If he’s going to raise you, he should feed and care for you properly. This just makes people uncomfortable. Oh, I don’t mean you’re uncomfortable, Ryujin. Let’s eat a lot over these two weeks and gain, like, ten kilos before you leave.”

Ryujin’s spoon paused.

“Two weeks?”

“Yeah. No scary soldier uncles here, so don’t worry.”

Ryujin silently put down his spoon.

“What’s wrong? Feeling sick? Did you eat too fast?”

“No, it’s not that… Is it really okay?”

“What.”

“Do you know who I am?”

Shin Yena realized what Ryujin was worried about. That this kid was fretting over something so small stabbed her heart like a needle.

Shin Yena placed a hand on Ryujin’s lowered shoulder.

“I know.”

“And you still took me in? Did Shin Haebeom get some dirt on you too, Noona?”

Shin Yena thought she knew enough about Jung Ryujin. She’d read Shin Haebeom’s <Siren>. But the moment she met the real person, beyond photos and text, Shin Yena realized her judgment was completely off.

A person couldn’t be defined by their past actions alone. The real Jung Ryujin wasn’t a budding rebel or a bold terrorist. He was a scared kid who stepped back first, worried about hurting others.

Shin Yena shook her head.

“Dirt? Nothing like that.”

“I don’t even know where this is.”

“This is Howollu. I’m the owner, Shin Yena. I’m Shin Haebeom’s cousin, the Disciplinary Training Corps commander. I’m the younger one.”

“Cousin?”

“Yeah. Look alike, don’t we?”

“…I thought you were his lover.”

“What?!”

Ryujin practically jumped from his seat.

“Sorry! I didn’t know.”

He looked like he’d committed a mortal sin. Shin Yena sighed deeply and laughed.

“It’s fine. It’s natural you wouldn’t know. I’ve never been on broadcasts or anything. No interest in that.”

Ryujin stole glances at Shin Yena’s face. Maybe because she said they were cousins, her features seemed to resemble Shin Haebeom’s.

Shin Yena was calm and kind. Ryujin found it strange that she placed side dishes on his plate. He wished this moment could last forever.

“Try this too, Ryujin.”

“What’s this?”

“Fish tempura. The sauce is really good.”

Ryujin chewed and swallowed a piece of tempura coated in sweet-spicy sauce. It melted in his mouth. It wasn’t just the fish tempura. Everything here was so soft it brought tears to his eyes. And warm. By the time he mixed glossy rice with clear fish broth, Ryujin was already melting.

With a full stomach, sleepiness hit. The medicine made him drowsier. Shin Yena pushed the table aside and laid out bedding.

“Do you like it here?”

“Yes.”

Ryujin nodded. He hated to admit it, but Shin Haebeom was right. These two weeks here would be happy. So precious that tears welled up before it even began.

Ryujin pressed his hot eyelids with the back of his hand.

“You okay?”

“Yes…”

“You don’t have to hold it in.”

“I’m okay, really… really. I’m fine.”

Shin Yena didn’t press further. She just gently rubbed Ryujin’s trembling back. The real Jung Ryujin wasn’t the brother of the infamous femme fatale Ryu Yeonbi or a heinous terrorist. He was a child who broke into tears over a full meal. Shin Yena wanted to erase the final section of the <Siren> project, the post-termination disposal clause, from her mind.

✶⋆.˚

It seemed there was some tremendous gap between nineteen and twenty. Otherwise, there was no way turning just one year older would suddenly make someone the center of the world.

Kwon Sehyuk stared blankly at the schedule his uncle handed him. It was packed from six in the morning to eleven at night.

“Uncle, is this even possible?”

The refined gentleman, who looked good in a brown fedora, smiled slyly.

“Completely possible.”

Kwon Sehyuk had heard that rising celebrities split their time into ten-minute increments. Back then, he thought it was absurd. Happy to work without proper sleep? Weren’t they driven mad by overwork?

Kwon Sehyuk shook his head.

“I can’t do this.”

“You can.”

“I’m telling you, I can’t handle this!”

“Some young guy, and you’re already so spineless.”

“Working hard when you’re young will make you sick later. Do you want to see me drop dead, Uncle?”

“Stop whining and get ready.”

Secretary Im approached. He was the most impossible to reason with among the horde of villains his uncle dragged in. When Kwon Sehyuk asked about his friends, Im consistently replied that it wasn’t something for a prince to worry about. Same as last time. Rage boiled inside, but Kwon Sehyuk’s courage didn’t extend to confronting him in front of his uncle. Swallowing his frustration, he looked at “today’s outfit.” Apparently, in the adult world, you’d get struck by lightning if you didn’t wear a suit.

“Prince? Don’t like the clothes?”

The “designer” in charge of hair and makeup approached and asked. Another of his uncle’s villainous crew. The mackerel suit from the graduation party was his creation.

Kwon Sehyuk grumbled.

“How many times have I told you not to call me that? It gives me chills.”

“Then what should I call you?”

“My name, my name! Don’t tell me you don’t know my name?”

“It’s not that…”

The rest was predictable.

“How could I dare call the prince by his name?”

Kwon Sehyuk silently fiddled with the suit’s cuffs. The custom suit, tailored for his tall frame and broad shoulders, wasn’t comfortable at all. He preferred gym clothes that didn’t care about wrinkles or stains. His reflection in the mirror felt foreign. The designer’s praise about how stunning he looked didn’t even register.

“How is it? Feels different wearing it, right?”

“Make the pockets bigger next time.”

“Pardon?”

“Inside pockets, preferably. I carry a lot of stuff.”

Kwon Sehyuk opened a desk drawer. From a hidden compartment lined with thick cardboard, he pulled out a cigarette case and stuffed it into his pocket. His uncle didn’t ask what it was.

Kwon Sehyuk went downstairs. Jang Seunghee, sipping morning coffee, turned to look. Pride flickered across her face as she saw her eldest son, usually in a school uniform or ratty gym clothes. Beside Jang Seunghee sat his nine-year-old younger brother. The boy, playing with a Rubik’s cube, spotted Kwon Sehyuk, grinned brightly, and ran over. As usual, he tried to hug him, calling “Hyung-ah,” but their uncle blocked his path.

“Muhyuk’s grown a lot too.”

Jang Seunghee responded.

“He’s still a baby. I think he acts even more spoiled because of Sehyuk.”

“What’ll we do now that Hyung-ah’s getting busy?”

Kwon Sehyuk went to the dining table. He grabbed a glass of cold water and chugged it. Dressing up from head to toe felt pointless if he couldn’t even hug his little brother.

The boy followed him to the entrance. Worried his frail brother might catch a cold in the chilly air, Kwon Sehyuk urged him to go back inside.

“Hyung-ah, when are you coming back?”

Kwon Muhyuk didn’t attend school. He’d come to Gwangseong with Kwon Sehyuk, but unlike his older brother, who quickly adapted, he struggled to make friends and felt out of place. His naturally weak health and frequent illnesses were also an issue. Eventually, Kwon Muhyuk stopped formal schooling and started homeschooling. Kwon Sehyuk worried about his brother, who was becoming increasingly withdrawn.

“Before I finish studying?”

“I’ll come back as soon as I can.”

Kwon Sehyuk took the Rubik’s cube his brother had been fiddling with. He knew why he was stuck. It was a toy Kwon Sehyuk had played with as a kid, at Kwon Muhyuk’s age now.

“Here.”

“Wow!”

Kwon Sehyuk knelt down and ruffled Kwon Muhyuk’s hair as he looked up with sparkling eyes.

“You can be brave, right? Study hard.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Promise.”

Kwon Sehyuk held out his pinky. Kwon Muhyuk cautiously linked his finger. A faint smile appeared on Jang Seunghee’s face as she watched the brothers.

Kwon Muhyuk was born when Kwon Sehyuk was eleven. Jang Seunghee remembered the boy whose arms trembled when told to hold his baby brother. Kwon Sehyuk, who cried that he didn’t know a baby could be so small and fragile, grew into an overprotective brother. With such a doting sibling, it was no surprise Kwon Muhyuk became increasingly dependent.

Kwon Muhyuk had a dedicated therapist. The therapist said that since he was still young, his dependent personality wasn’t a major concern. But Jang Seunghee thought differently. Even if he couldn’t help his brother’s future, he shouldn’t hold him back.

Kwon Sehyuk was a young dragon just beginning to rise. Whether he’d seize the sacred orb and ascend or remain a mere serpent on the ground was still unknown. Jang Seunghee silently watched the taillights of the receding car.

✶⋆.˚

On his first day in Howollu, Ryujin slept the entire day.

He didn’t eat or use the bathroom. Except for getting up once to drink a glass of water from the pitcher by his bedside, he didn’t leave the covers. He felt Shin Yena come to his room at dusk and stroke his hair, but Ryujin couldn’t even open his eyes. Accumulated fatigue hit him all at once.

The wall clock pointed to five in the morning.

Ryujin groaned and sat up. The floor was warm. Dawn’s bluish light filtered through the window. Ryujin looked around the room anew.

The bedroom Shin Yena provided was cozy. It wasn’t very large, but it was plenty for one person. The heavy cotton bedding was to his liking, and there was an attached bathroom.