Chapter 91

If there was any relief, it was that Gye Do-hyeop’s rude appraisals of others drifted across the comms from time to time. Thanks to that, Geum Seoul could be certain that the sound of shattering bone, collapsing bodies, or agonizing screams did not belong to Gye Do-hyeop. At one point, a voice coaxing, “Relax,” could even be heard. Right after that came the dull, heavy crunch of something dislocating, though Geum Seoul couldn’t bring himself to imagine what it was.

Bae Seo-woo also seemed to be pressing forward unharmed. Though panting slightly, he occasionally let out a “Whoa!” or muttered, “This is insane.” Once, he playfully whined, “Seoul-ssi, I just took down four of them! Praise me!” only to immediately shriek at the top of his lungs. He then rattled off rapid-fire that the Deputy Director had just fired a gun right next to his head. Geum Seoul was the only person in the room who believed it hadn’t been intentional.

Bang!

—”Going ahead.”

—”Huh? Deputy Director? I’m coming! Wait for me!”

—”Don’t talk to me.”

—”Ack! Don’t shut the door!”

Unlike Geum Seoul, who had both hands clenched tightly together, the few staff members in the monitoring room looked almost bored. They had scrambled when the code first came in, but their urgency evaporated the moment they confirmed Gye Do-hyeop was on-site. Yu Jeong-ham, naturally, remained wound tight. Sudden as the situation had been, this was the first operation in which Geum Seoul and Gye Do-hyeop were working together directly, and Jeong-ham was determined to get through it without stepping on either man’s nerves.

Krrk.

—”Phantom transmitting. Target location in sight. Descending.”

A welcome transmission came through right on cue. At the same time, new video feeds began broadcasting onto the monitoring room’s screens. Team members rapelling swiftly from the helicopters encircled the entire building, beginning with the factory rooftop.

Kshhh.

Only then did Gye Do-hyeop come into view, stepping out of the doorway billowed with white smoke and brushing off his clothes and hair. Aside from slightly rumpled attire and disheveled hair, there was nothing noticeably amiss. Blood was splattered across his cheek and the back of his hand, but anyone could tell it didn’t belong to him.

—”Exterior clear. No other entrances visible. Breaching.”

“Check if there’s anyone alive….”

Yu Jeong-ham gave the order in a hopeless tone.

—”Yessir.”

Bang—.

With an immediate gunshot, operators were seen filing into the factory in a line. The bodycam also pivoted in the opposite direction, leaving Gye Do-hyeop behind.

—”Hey. Stop.”

Grab.

Without warning, the trembling feed lurched sideways along with Gye Do-hyeop’s voice, as though someone had grabbed the wearer by the vest. Then a handsome face filled the screen. Do-hyeop had leaned directly into somebody’s bodycam. It was nothing but a tactical camera strapped to a chest, yet he still raked his fingers through his tousled hair as if checking himself in a mirror.

—”Fucking handsome, aren’t I?”

Then, smiling broadly with his blood-splattered face, he tapped the camera lens twice with his index finger.

—”Be there soon.”

That was all. Squinting one eye in a wink, the man straightened his bowed torso, gave a languid wave, and sauntered toward the helicopter. Staring blankly at his retreating back, the owner of the bodycam belatedly stammered a report that they were entering, then hurried toward the building.

“……”

“……”

A chilly silence engulfed the monitoring room.

Deputy Director Gye was handsome. There was scarcely a soul alive who could argue with that simple fact. He knew it too, and with a vicious personality layered on top, he had never hesitated to mock, belittle, or tear apart other people’s looks. Criminals received the worst of it. He could open an interrogation with, “If your mug looked even half as decent as my pinky toe, you might’ve scraped by in life,” then follow with an expression of exaggerated pity: “Was seeing that face in the mirror what drove you to crime out of sheer spite?” In other words, what he had just said was hardly out of character.

The problem was the tone. That sweet inflection, as if he were in the middle of a romance, reporting his safety to someone special.

“……”

Rustle.

Everyone still in the room turned to look at Geum Seoul. Geum Seoul himself, however, was rubbing his face while the tension poured out of his shoulders, oblivious to every stare. His nerves had been wound so brutally tight that the sudden flood of relief hurt almost as much, spreading through his chest fast enough to make his heart ache.

Yet that reprieve was short-lived. Veins stood out against the pale nape of his neck as a surge of sour bile rose, triggering a dry heave. Furrowing his brows slightly, Geum Seoul braced his feet and forced himself up.

“I… I’ll take my leave now.”

Seeing his ghastly pale complexion, Yu Jeong-ham voiced a few worried words, but instead of replying, Geum Seoul could only bow his head in a hasty nod and flee the monitoring room.

“Ugh. Hurgh.”

Moments later, Geum Seoul buried his face over the toilet bowl and retched. Yellow gastric fluid poured out alongside the water he had drunk that day. His back prickled with cold flashes from the churning nausea.

Even though he had watched the situation conclude in the monitoring room, he couldn’t calm his rolling stomach. The moment he stepped into the hallway, Geum Seoul clamped a hand over his mouth, sprinted all the way to the staff quarters, and seized the toilet bowl the second he burst into the apartment.

Slump.

Collapsing onto the floor, Geum Seoul panted for breath, trying to steady himself. Though he hadn’t smelled food, nausea had surged without warning at the sheer thought that the Deputy Director might get hurt.

Geum Seoul curled into himself. Watery saliva still pooled sourly in his mouth, but he paid it no mind, burying his face in his sleeve as he fought to calm down. In the end, the Deputy Director hadn’t been injured. There was no absence to mourn.

“Haa…”

His breath trembled. He was terrified of the man getting hurt. Terrified that the man would leave him behind. Geum Seoul had never imagined that liking someone was something that would inspire such sheer terror.

To his clumsy eyes, people in love always looked happy. The newspapers occasionally carried stories like that, too—noble souls who sacrificed for love, who willingly endured hardship for the sake of love.

He had never once wished for it, nor even imagined it, but he had vaguely thought love was a feeling of that nature.

Yet the affection Geum Seoul harbored for the first time was nothing but dread and panic. In proportion to how much he liked him, he feared being abandoned, terrified that the man would vanish. Above all, what disturbed him most was the train of thought that this stemmed not merely from liking him, but because he was carrying a child the man didn’t want. Blaming the innocent child in his belly made him feel like a monster.

“I’m sorry.”

Geum Seoul apologized. I’m sorry. For being unable to do this or that. For knowing you exist yet just leaving you alone like this. I’m sorry I’m such a coward. I want to be brave too, but everything is a first, and I’ve never thought about this before, so I don’t know what to do. I’m sorry I’m lacking. As Geum Seoul murmured on and on, small beads rolled across the tile floor with faint clicking taps.

Only after sitting like that for ten minutes and steadying himself did he stand and take a hot shower. The living room, devoid of any lights, was pitch dark, and Geum Seoul burrowed under the duvet early. Today, he didn’t even want to pretend to take food out. He just wanted to curl up like this until the Deputy Director returned in the late hours of dawn.

Beep. Beep.

Yet the moment Geum Seoul buried his nose into Gye Do-hyeop’s pillow, the sound of the front door came from the entryway. Widening his drooping eyes, he pushed himself up.

Rustle.

“The hell are you doing with all the lights off? Hibernating already?”

It was Gye Do-hyeop. Geum Seoul kicked off the duvet in a frantic scramble and stood up. His knees buckled for a split second, nearly sending him tumbling, but he caught his balance right away.

“Deputy Director.”

At the delighted voice, Gye Do-hyeop pulled open the bedroom door, his brow furrowing slightly. Then, the moment he shrugged off his coat and tossed it aside, he reached out and caught Geum Seoul by the chin.

“Skipping dinner and lying in bed at this hour—how the fuck are you not gonna lose weight? What’s the point of me hauling all that food here?”

Muttering, Gye Do-hyeop scooped Geum Seoul up into his arms in one smooth motion. He had definitely lost weight. Gye Do-hyeop thought he had at least erased that gaunt look from his face after bringing him from his old neighborhood into his own home, but the signs were creeping back again.

To be exact, it started after the disciplinary suspension. He understood the frail creature losing weight just because the person he ‘loved to death’ was away for a bit, but the problem was that his complexion hadn’t improved even though days had passed since his return. Despite diligently hauling in all sorts of fattening food amidst his hectic schedule, nothing changed, as if the kid wasn’t eating properly at all. Whenever he returned at dawn and opened the fridge, the food was dutifully gone, though.

“Ah. I just wasn’t hungry today.”

“If I wait around for that puny-ass stomach of yours to feel hungry, you’ll be seventy.”

“That’s not true.”

“Don’t talk back, you pretty little bastard.”

Gye Do-hyeop’s scolding did not feel like scolding at all. Maybe because Geum Seoul could feel how gentle the hands holding him actually were. He pressed his nose into the man’s shoulder and rubbed against him. The anxiety that had been crushing his entire body only moments earlier thinned almost instantly beneath that familiar scent.

Tap.

Still cradling Geum Seoul in his arms, the man stepped over and unpacked the food from the shopping bag he had left on the kitchen island. Geum Seoul caught his breath before he even realized it, then switched to breathing through his mouth.

“How did you come back so early?”

“Why? Not happy to see me anymore?”

Geum Seoul immediately shook his head.

“No. It’s not that. I just thought you’d be even busier today because of what happened earlier.”

“I am busy as fuck. I have to see you eat before I head back out.”

With that, he set Geum Seoul down on a dining chair. Only then could Geum Seoul see what he had brought: white steamed rice, grilled beef still wafting with steam, grilled fish, and a milky broth he had never seen before. As Geum Seoul lifted his head at the menu that clearly carried a deliberate purpose, Gye Do-hyeop pressed a spoon into his hand and pulled out the adjacent chair to sit down.

“Eat that, then weigh yourself. Every time you drop below that number, you’re getting punished.”

“……”

Surprisingly, he wasn’t frightened. Geum Seoul knew the man wouldn’t hit him. If he had intended to hit him, there had been countless better opportunities before this.

However, the food was a little terrifying. More specifically, he was terrified that if he couldn’t eat it, the man would realize he was pregnant. He was terrified of the man making a disgusted face and asking if he hadn’t already said he hated kids. He was terrified that the man would leave him over something that wasn’t of his own will or mistake.