Chapter 49

Seoul asked in a quiet whisper, “Didn’t you come here to work tonight?”

“I did.”

“You work in a place like this?” Seoul wondered aloud. “There are so many people here.”

Despite the question, Gye Do-hyeop behaved as though harassing Geum Seoul were his sole operational objective, embracing him tightly from behind and crowding him from every angle, thoroughly relishing the youth in his tailored suit.

Gye Do-hyeop told him with a lazy smirk, “Sometimes a crowd is safer.”

“In what kind of situation?” Seoul asked.

“It’s hard to explain,” Gye Do-hyeop replied in a low murmur. “You just come to know.”

There was no graceful way to object further. Perched on the barstool, Gye Do-hyeop pressed his nose to the nape of Seoul’s neck, toyed idly with the perfectly knotted tie, then cupped Seoul’s small rear beneath the excuse of straightening his jacket hem. Thoroughly flustered, Seoul finally caught his wrist with both hands. Gye Do-hyeop immediately asked whether Seoul was trying to guide that hand somewhere else he wanted touched. Only after dragging a desperate you can’t from him did the hand retreat—and even then, merely as far as his waist.

“Deputy Director,” a voice called out.

Holding the second champagne flute Gye Do-hyeop had given him, Seoul turned at the sound of the title cutting through the blaring music. Yu Jeong-ham, absent only moments ago, had reappeared nearby and leaned close to speak directly into Gye Do-hyeop’s ear. Seoul tried to give them privacy by leaning away, but with Gye Do-hyeop’s arm still locked firmly around his waist, all he managed was a slight arch of his torso.

Touching his lips to the slender flute for another sip, Seoul’s eyes drifted toward Gye Do-hyeop’s mouth. It seemed like he was saying something… Fuck? Bullshit? Dogshit? Watching the lips purse and part, Seoul tried to guess the words, only to shrug. Surely an entire sentence couldn’t be composed purely of profanity.

A quiet rustle stirred.

Glancing at Seoul, Gye Do-hyeop smiled with an amused curl of his lips. Stroking the unstyled hair that contrasted so sharply with the impeccably tailored suit, he drew his frame closer.

“I need to step away and check on something for work,” Gye Do-hyeop said.

Seoul gave an earnest nod. “Please go ahead. I won’t go anywhere. I’ll stay right here.”

Evidently pleased by the promise, Gye Do-hyeop rested his thumb against Seoul’s pointed chin before pulling back.

“I have to drag this useless bastard along since he doesn’t earn his salary, so I’m assigning someone else to stick with you,” Gye Do-hyeop said. “You can stay quietly put, right?”

Presumably, the useless bastard was Yu Jeong-ham. When Seoul’s eyes widened and darted toward him, Gye Do-hyeop nipped playfully at the rim of the youth’s ear, prompting Seoul to avert his gaze in haste.

“Don’t pity him,” Gye Do-hyeop warned in a low rumble.

“…Yes, sir.”

Gye Do-hyeop added with a wicked smirk, “I’ll be right back to finish telling you just how red your ass was yesterday.”

“That’s alright,” Seoul stammered, flushing crimson. “You really don’t have to.”

Gye Do-hyeop gave his cheek a light pinch. “Nope, not an option. Tomorrow will have its own brand of bullshit, so today’s quota needs to be settled before midnight.”

Only after pinching the soft cheek and hearing Yu Jeong-ham prompt him a second time did Gye Do-hyeop turn around. Once again, his muttered words were inaudible, but Seoul caught the shape of his lips mouthing worthless piece of trash before hurriedly shaking his head, looking away in feigned ignorance.

Just as Gye Do-hyeop had promised, another operative arrived the moment the two men left. Seoul lowered his eyes, uncertain, but the operative seemed to anticipate his doubt and tugged back one sleeve enough to expose the half-hidden cufflink. The exact same fluorescent green. Reassured, Seoul gave him a polite bow.

Having Gye Do-hyeop pressed flush against him only to be left standing alone felt somewhat awkward, so Seoul toyed with his champagne flute to pass the time.

“Whatcha drinking?” a slurred voice hollered. “Any good?”

Seoul jumped and spun around. A visibly drunk man was staggering toward him, shouting something rude over the music. Seoul’s eyes widened, one hand instinctively flying to the edge of his mask, but the operative stationed half a step behind him moved between them at once. A dismissive wave and a few hard words sent the drunk away glaring. Even after he disappeared into the crowd, tension lingered in Seoul’s neck. With no one else approaching and the music still roaring around him, he remained where he was.

“May I ask your name?” Seoul ventured politely.

Seoul finally ventured a question to the operative standing guard in the Deputy Director’s place. Broad-shouldered and muscular, with a neat bob haircut, the man looked faintly surprised to be addressed and only stepped half a pace closer. Seoul had to repeat himself more loudly before an answer came.

Choi Da-ol answered with a slight nod, “Ah, I’m Choi Da-ol. I work under the Deputy Director.”

“Hello,” Seoul greeted with a soft smile. “I’m Geum Seoul.”

Seoul had offered his name because he assumed the operative had been saddled with a tedious babysitting assignment. Da-ol, however, merely parted his lips as though he wanted to say something, then let out an awkward little laugh. Worried that even casual conversation might be an imposition, Seoul closed his mouth again.

Da-ol was not offended in the slightest. If anything, he was the one walking on eggshells. Only six or seven operatives had been assigned to the evening, and most had initially treated the job as little more than an easy social outing. Yu Jeong-ham had seen through that lax attitude immediately and torn into them with a brutal tongue-lashing before deployment.

‘If you see something shocking today, don’t freak out.’

That warning had been the opening salvo.

‘Like what?’

‘Your Deputy Director has been a little… lately.’

Jeong-ham had twirled a forefinger between his eye and temple, yet Da-ol hadn’t grasped the meaning back then.

‘Like his usual self?’

‘Choi Da-ol. How the hell did you get into the NSSA with that lack of wits?’

‘Huh? You sound just like the Deputy Director right now.’

‘Humiliating. Utterly humiliating. Just insult my parents instead.’

Recalling Yu Jeong-ham’s comical outrage as he glared with ferocious indignation, Da-ol snapped back to reality. Setting the flute onto the bar, Seoul seemed to have something else to say; though obscured by the mask, the amber eyes wavered with hesitation.

“Um… I’d like to use the restroom,” Seoul murmured timidly.

“I’ll come with you,” Da-ol answered promptly. “This way.”

The layout of the building had been memorized days in advance. Parting paths through clusters of partygoers, Da-ol constantly checked on Seoul. It would have been far easier to tuck the youth under an arm and pull him along, but Yu Jeong-ham’s strict directive lingered in mind:

‘A civilian is joining us tonight, and either you or I will have to cover him.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Curious as to who it was, Da-ol knew asking would yield no answers. But that hadn’t been all.

‘Whatever happens, you must never, ever lay a hand on him.’

‘Pardon? Who is he to… Well, sure. Why would I touch him anyway?’

The lingering questions only mounted. At Da-ol’s reply, the dark circles under Yu Jeong-ham’s eyes seemed to deepen into pitch-black shadows. Just when Da-ol thought it was merely an illusion—

‘There is only one situation where touching him is allowed.’

Jeong-ham had lowered his voice with utmost gravity, as if leaking state secrets.

“Um, Da-ol,” Seoul called out softly, “can I go in now?”

Da-ol instructed with a slight nod, “Ah, just a moment. Let me check inside first.”

Prompted by Seoul’s cautious voice outside the restroom, Da-ol stepped forward. While no imminent danger loomed, protecting this civilian was a direct order from Deputy Director Gye himself, demanding flawless execution.

“Pardon me, but could you wait pressed close against the wall?” Da-ol requested.

“Oh, yes. I will.”

Wondering if the civilian might prove finicky or suspicious, Da-ol found him quite the opposite. Seoul had asked for a name first, and whenever requested, he nodded compliantly without a fuss. He even hunched his slender shoulders to minimize his profile, plastering himself flat against the wall. In every respect, he was easy to handle.

A metallic screech sounded.

Even inside the spacious restroom, the concussive bass thudded through the tiles. Grimacing at the hazy clouds of cigarette smoke, Da-ol walked into the expansive space. Several people were already inside: two drunks leaning against the wall at the urinals, two figures in short skirts kissing, three locked stalls, and a lone smoker.

That last man was an eyesore. Swaying unsteadily in the center of the room, he blew smoke with unfocused eyes, wandering about as if scouting for someone to pick a fight with. Da-ol strode up to him.

“Excuse me,” Da-ol ordered coldly. “If you’re not using the restroom, clear out.”

“The fuck…?” the man slurred.

Glaring with hazed eyes, the man swayed on his feet. Having lost his mask somewhere, his face was bare, allowing Da-ol to lock onto his gaze directly. This, too, stemmed from Yu Jeong-ham’s warning:

‘When that kid is about to make physical contact with someone else.’

Pardon?’’

‘In that moment, grab him if you must, but pull him out of that situation immediately.’

‘Wait, does protecting him mean preventing other people from brushing against him at all costs? How is that even possible? People are drunk and bumping into each other everywhere.’

Even at that protest, Yu Jeong-ham had merely nodded with lips sealed tight. His expression clearly conveyed that that was the true objective, which made clearing this drunk out of the way an absolute necessity.

“Who the hell are you…?” the drunk muttered belligerently.

“I said move,” Da-ol warned with a dangerous glare, “unless you want to roll across this floor.”

At the sharp tone, the drunken man scowled; assessing that he stood no chance in a fight, he merely glared up and down before yielding, propping his back against a corner.

“Thank you. Stay right there.”

Offering an insincere dismissal, Da-ol turned back toward the entrance to inform Seoul that the coast was clear.

“…Huh? What the…” Da-ol muttered.

Yet the hallway was empty. “Where did he go?”

The youth who had stood quietly in the corridor with folded hands moments ago had vanished without a trace.

A sharp smack echoed.

Da-ol sprinted out into the hallway.

‘Oh, and if you happen to lose him…’

Yu Jeong-ham’s parting warning seemed to pierce straight through the booming music:

‘Both of us will be hung upside down from a wall, puking our fucking guts out until the seaweed soup we ate as babies comes up.’

…I’m fucked.

Cold sweat pouring down the neck, Da-ol checked the time. Vision sharpened as peripheral nerves stood on end. From this second onward, every detail had to be memorized to report to Gye Do-hyeop. That deranged Deputy Director would be waiting like a ticking time bomb, holding Da-ol’s life in his hands. A scorching siren of tinnitus blared inside Da-ol’s skull.