Chapter 102

Setting down the tray he had carried in, Kwon Haeju revealed a glass of water and a small glass vial resting upon it.

“You’ve been asleep for two days, so your body will feel incredibly weak,” the younger man explained smoothly. “Drink the neutralizer; it will help the anesthesia wear off faster.”

“Wasn’t that a bit too extreme?” Nam Shin-hoo grumbled. “If you had just asked me to go home with you, I would have come.”

“You would have,” Kwon Haeju agreed. “After dropping by Saint to meet Choi Kanghyeon, reporting to the Association, and finishing all your delayed paperwork, that is.”

Glancing down, Nam Shin-hoo realized he was dressed in a set of familiar pajamas—the exact same clothes he had worn during his brief stay at Kwon Haeju’s house years ago. The man had actually kept them all this time.

“Did you change my clothes?” Nam Shin-hoo asked.

“Yes.”

“Even my underwear?”

“Yes.”

Even to a question deliberately meant to fluster him, Kwon Haeju replied without a fraction of hesitation.

“You were covered in dried salt; it couldn’t be helped. Ah, I made some abalone porridge. Do you think you can eat right now?”

“…Yeah. Let’s eat.”

Though he hadn’t initially felt hungry, the mere mention of food triggered a ravenous, clawing emptiness in his stomach. He moved to the table, finding warm abalone porridge and finely chopped kimchi arranged exactly as promised.

Only after swallowing a few spoonfuls did the hollow ache in his gut subside, returning enough composure to let him truly observe his surroundings. Absolutely nothing in Kwon Haeju’s house had changed. From the ceramic bowls lined up in the kitchen to the decorative cushions resting on the sofa, every single detail remained frozen in time—a chilling testament to his obsessive, desperate effort to preserve the past.

Yet, the most obsessive thing in the room was the man’s gaze.

As Nam Shin-hoo chewed and swallowed the thin porridge, Kwon Haeju stared at him with a suffocating intensity so heavy it completely drowned out the rich flavor of the abalone.

“You’re not eating?” Nam Shin-hoo asked, unable to ignore the heavy stare.

“I tasted plenty while boiling it,” Kwon Haeju replied. Absolute possessiveness and unfiltered obsession were condensed within his quiet, unblinking eyes.

Nam Shin-hoo vividly remembered the younger man’s words right before losing consciousness, recalling the thick, dark tone declaring that he would never let him leave again. Given the suffocating weight of that possessiveness, he had fully braced himself for extreme confinement—half-expecting to wake up chained to a bed or wearing a restrictive collar.

Instead, his limbs were completely free, and he wasn’t uncomfortable in the slightest. Honestly, he had expected much worse.

Is my mind just completely warped now? Nam Shin-hoo shook his head, thoroughly disturbed by his own grim preparations. Compared to the horrific scenarios he had envisioned, this was a despondently peaceful situation.

Looking around the house yielded the same baffling results. He couldn’t sense any foreign energy. There were no restrictive barriers or magical wards set to prevent him from stepping outside. It was just a perfectly normal house equipped with standard security measures.

Come to think of it… Even the location of the house is exactly the same. 

In the past, Kwon Haeju had been notoriously transient. He secretly uprooted his life every two or three years, never informing anyone of his whereabouts and refusing to ever settle down. Tracking his ever-shifting coordinates had once been a primary mission for the Saint Guild. Yet, despite four entire years passing, he hadn’t moved an inch from this old residence. The reason required no explanation. It was born of the exact same madness that kept every prop in the house untouched—a desperate, excessive clinging to the brief sliver of time he had spent with Nam Shin-hoo.

“Kwon Haeju,” he called out softly.

“Yes.”

“If you’re planning to confine, bind, or kidnap me… could you at least give me a heads-up?”

A faint smile ghosted over Kwon Haeju’s expressionless face. “I have no such plans.”

It was a surprisingly gentle response, entirely reminiscent of the old, whiny Kwon Haeju who used to crave his affection as if nothing had ever changed. Had the deeply ominous words spoken on the beach just been a trick of his fading consciousness? Feeling slightly embarrassed for making a fuss over nothing, Nam Shin-hoo awkwardly scooped up another bite of porridge.

“How could I possibly stop you?” Kwon Haeju continued smoothly. “If you wish to leave, you may go wherever you please. Even right this second.”

Nam Shin-hoo gently shook his head, having no immediate intention of fleeing. Deeply concerned for the younger man’s fragile well-being, he planned to stay for at least a day before finally reaching out to Choi Kanghyeon.

“Because if you do, I will simply kill myself.”

The metal spoon slipped from Nam Shin-hoo’s fingers, clattering loudly against the table.

Moving with unsettling affection, Kwon Haeju retrieved a fresh spoon and gently pressed it into Nam Shin-hoo’s frozen hand.

“I realized that was the most effective threat I could ever wield against you,” Kwon Haeju explained softly. “Because you have always been so utterly desperate for me to live.”

His voice rang as crisp and clear as the newly polished silver. He recited this horrifying ultimatum as casually as one might read the time off a clock, simply stating an undeniable fact of the universe.

“If you leave, I will die.”

“You…”

“Did you say the world would end if I died?” Kwon Haeju asked, referencing the catastrophic future Nam Shin-hoo had leaked in the EX-Rank dungeon right when he had resolved to sacrifice himself.

“…Yeah.”

At that confirmation, a radiant joy bloomed across Kwon Haeju’s features. His faint smile deepened into something terrifyingly ecstatic, while his lifeless eyes sparked and curved into bright, delighted half-moons.

“How wonderful.”

The sheer, violently intense euphoria radiating from that smile struck Nam Shin-hoo utterly speechless. Through the linked ring on his finger, he could physically feel it—an overwhelming surge of pure, unadulterated ecstasy that far eclipsed any emotion he had ever sensed before.

***

Amidst the rhythmic clattering of porcelain, Nam Shin-hoo sat rigidly on the sofa, staring at Kwon Haeju’s back. The man was nonchalantly washing the dishes, yet his insides were entirely burnt to ash.

Frankly, I might have felt more comfortable being locked in a basement somewhere, Nam Shin-hoo thought bitterly.

Anything would have been better than watching Kwon Haeju slowly die alive like this. It was entirely unimaginable to see him casually weaponize his own death, openly declaring that he didn’t care in the slightest if the world burned to the ground as a consequence.

Nam Shin-hoo examined the artifact adorning his left hand. The ring, which had just transmitted such a ferocious wave of emotion, now felt entirely dormant. Its brilliantly sparkling gem had darkened to the sickly, blackish-red hue of clotted blood, trembling ever so slightly—like a severed vein right before it stopped pulsing entirely.

Toying with the TV remote, a maddening curiosity about the outside world gnawed at him. He desperately needed to check his frozen quest success rate, assess the political fallout with the United States, and untangle a dozen other crises. Above all, he wanted to contact Choi Kanghyeon immediately. Witnessing Kwon Haeju’s catastrophic mental state only amplified his worries, as Choi Kanghyeon was likely faring no better.

However, mentioning Choi Kanghyeon to the current Kwon Haeju was tantamount to pulling a loaded trigger.

“Would you like some snacks?”

Having finished the dishes, Kwon Haeju approached the living room. He looked impeccably neat as he wiped the moisture from his hands and peeled off his wet apron. He didn’t look anything like a man who had just gleefully threatened his own suicide. That was precisely what made him so utterly terrifying; it was completely impossible to fathom the chaotic abyss lurking beneath that perfectly composed facade.

As Nam Shin-hoo stared intensely at him, Kwon Haeju tilted his head in mild curiosity.

“Do you want to leave?”

“Are you crazy?” Nam Shin-hoo snapped.

“Hahahaha.”

The lunatic actually threw his head back and laughed out loud. Settling onto the sofa beside Nam Shin-hoo, Kwon Haeju wrapped a secure arm around his waist. Letting his body go entirely slack, he naturally lowered his head to rest upon Nam Shin-hoo’s lap, burying his face comfortably against his legs.

“I feel like I’ve finally found the answer.”

“And that answer is taking your own life hostage?”

“Yes.”

A heavy sigh slipped past Nam Shin-hoo’s lips. He raised a hand, fully intending to smack some sense into the younger man’s ridiculously thick skull, but ultimately relented. Instead, his fingers tangled in the dark hair, stroking it with a slow, weary gentleness.

“It’s not like I left because I wanted to,” Nam Shin-hoo murmured.

“That is why I despise it even more,” Kwon Haeju muttered into his lap, his expression entirely hidden. “Because it means that no matter what I do, if the exact same situation arises, you will invariably abandon me all over again.”

Nam Shin-hoo had risked his very existence to reveal the future, driven solely by the desperate hope that Kwon Haeju would survive. Yet, that revelation was slowly suffocating the younger man. He had finally unraveled the mystery of why Nam Shin-hoo constantly saved and helped him, but the answer felt like a brutal death sentence. It meant that regardless of his own agonizing efforts or the depth of their bond, Nam Shin-hoo would always choose to sacrifice himself instead of Kwon Haeju at the crucial moment.

Nam Shin-hoo gazed silently out the massive living room window. The sun had already dipped below the horizon, and warm orange garden lights flickered to life one by one across the encroaching darkness.

Though he desperately needed to return to reality, catch up on years of delayed work, and assess the current crisis, persuading Kwon Haeju right now was entirely out of the question. The man’s mental state was as precarious as a unicycle threatening to tip over at the slightest pebble.

“In a few days,” Kwon Haeju suddenly spoke up, breaking the heavy silence. “A guest will visit the house. After they leave, I will contact Choi Kanghyeon for you.”

“Huh?”

Nam Shin-hoo couldn’t hide his gladness at the incredibly unexpected concession. He certainly hadn’t expected Choi Kanghyeon’s name to willingly leave the younger man’s mouth first.

“…Haa.” A long sigh dripping with profound dissatisfaction escaped Kwon Haeju. “I can’t exactly keep you hidden forever.”

“…”

“However, only Choi Kanghyeon. You are not allowed to let anyone else know yet.”

“That’s more than enough.”

Honestly, it was a shocking development. The Kwon Haeju he remembered would have demanded absolutely anyone but Choi Kanghyeon—he would have preferred literal strangers over his sworn rival. Just what on earth had shifted during his four-year absence?

From the reality of the Epic Guild to Kwon Haeju’s terrifying new coping mechanisms and his inexplicably altered dynamic with Choi Kanghyeon—absolutely nothing aligned with Nam Shin-hoo’s expectations since his return.

“You need to sleep early tonight,” Kwon Haeju advised softly. “The medicine will still be lingering in your system.”

True to his word, an unnatural lethargy weighed down Nam Shin-hoo’s limbs far more than usual. If he felt this exhausted even after consuming the neutralizer, he couldn’t begin to fathom the sheer toxicity of the sedative. It was a terrifyingly potent drug, easily capable of reducing a human body to a state of near-suspended animation.