Chapter 115

“You are quite an interesting young lady,” Shin-hoo remarked with a gentle smile. “I look forward to working with you. I have only just returned, so there is still a vast amount of information I need to process regarding the current state of affairs.”

“Hmm… you’re being so unexpectedly sincere that it takes the wind right out of my sails,” Da-on admitted, scratching her head with a sheepish grin. “I have a surprisingly traditional Confucian mindset, you know. I’m a bit weak against this kind of polite earnestness.”

She offered a bright, disarming smile. “I look forward to working with you, too. I know I lack a filter sometimes, but there’s no malice behind my words. Honestly, if I actually hate someone, I don’t even bother breathing in their direction.”

“…I look forward to working with you as well,” Yeonho sighed deeply.

Stepping up beside her, Yeonho subtly angled his body to shield his younger sister. It was a fiercely protective, inherently brotherly gesture—even if Da-on flat-out refused to acknowledge him as her older sibling.

No, there was exactly one time, Shin-hoo corrected himself, the phantom echo of a blood-curdling scream surfacing in his mind.

She had shrieked for her oppa at the top of her lungs, a desperate, shattering cry that Yeonho had been too vegetative to hear.

“Anyway, ahjussi, how on earth did you get close to Kwon Haeju?” Da-on asked, eyeing the stoic man with blatant skepticism. “No matter how much I talk to him, he never reacts. He barely even acts human.”

Yeonho squeezed her shoulder in a silent reprimand, but Haeju didn’t even twitch at the harsh assessment. He remained entirely impassive, seemingly immune to her abrasive remarks.

“Once you get to know him, Haeju is a wonderful person,” Shin-hoo defended smoothly, a playful glint in his eye. “He is kind-hearted and quite sensitive.”

“Mr. Nam Shin-hoo.” Haeju’s voice dropped, carrying a distinct warning edge.

“He gets terribly shy, too.”

“Oh…” Da-on’s eyes widened into perfect, astonished circles.

Opposite her, Haeju let out an incredibly heavy sigh. Shin-hoo felt a fleeting twinge of guilt for so casually shattering his rival’s fearsome, unapproachable image, but securing a smooth working relationship with these siblings was absolutely paramount.

Furthermore, he needed to alter the trajectory of their past. He had to ensure both twins reached the future in perfect health. Since his previous life had been utterly devoid of happy endings, the siblings’ ultimate fate had been a gruesome tragedy. In this lifetime, he was determined to rewrite that conclusion.

Just then, Choi Kanghyeon, who had briefly stepped away, returned to whisper in Shin-hoo’s ear. Another high-profile guest had requested an introduction. Given his momentous return, Shin-hoo’s itinerary for the evening was packed to the bursting point.

“Hunter Yoo Da-on, I have pressing matters to attend to, so I must take my leave,” Shin-hoo said gracefully. “I will see you next time.”

“Alright. Catch you later, fun ahjussi!”

Giggling mischievously, Da-on grabbed Shin-hoo’s hand and gave it an energetic shake.

Are all kids these days like this? Shin-hoo wondered as he walked away.

The Da-on from his past life had certainly been bright, but she had never possessed this level of unbridled, bubbly effervescence. Moreover, even when her relationships with others deteriorated into outright hostility, the past Da-on had maintained strict honorifics until her dying breath. She hadn’t dropped her formal composure even when standing before her brain-dead brother.

At a superficial glance, the past Da-on and the present Da-on appeared similar, yet fundamentally, they were entirely different people. The woman he remembered hadn’t been this whimsically self-indulgent; she had been a fiercely independent, unapologetically proud Hunter.

What could have possibly triggered such a drastic personality shift?

Countless variables could be to blame. When the twins had awakened in his past life, South Korea was still a fledgling battleground where Hunters lived in constant, suffocating terror of losing their lives. The current landscape was vastly different. The Hunter AI programs had been commercialized a full decade ahead of schedule, and high-grade potions were widely accessible. The sheer, crushing dread that once defined the Hunter profession had been significantly alleviated.

It made logical sense that they would operate with a more relaxed, comfortable demeanor compared to the dark ages of the past. And yet…

Can a mere shift in environmental circumstances truly alter a person’s core nature this drastically? It was a puzzle too complex to solve with his current lack of data. Da-on’s casual disrespect and cheeky nicknames were trivial matters, but if other hidden variables were lurking beneath the surface, he needed to uncover them.

“I leave myself in your care, Hunter Yoo Da-on,” Shin-hoo murmured to himself, masking his turbulent thoughts behind a serene, unbothered smile.

***

It was well past two in the morning when the extravagant banquet finally concluded.

After forcefully repelling the lingering crowds desperate to monopolize Shin-hoo’s attention, Haeju unceremoniously disbanded the event with a murderous scowl and dragged Shin-hoo home. Shedding his suffocating formal wear with evident exhaustion, Haeju vanished into the bathroom, emerging a short while later freshly showered but still sporting a fiercely displeased expression.

“Are you tired?” Shin-hoo asked.

“I absolutely despise crowded places,” Haeju grumbled.

Like a large, sulking animal seeking comfort, Haeju plastered himself against Shin-hoo’s back. The warm, soothing heat of his freshly scrubbed body seeped through the thin fabric of his pajamas, accompanied by the gentle, clean scent of soap. Wrapping his arms securely around Shin-hoo from behind, Haeju began to slowly caress his flat stomach.

A soft chuckle escaped Shin-hoo at the ticklish sensation, and he willingly leaned back into the sturdy embrace. “Come to think of it, did you see Bale Taylor at the banquet tonight?”

“Yes.”

“How on earth did a person change so drastically?”

Bale Taylor had attended the high-society gala immaculately dressed in a modernized Hanbok, acting more Korean than the actual native attendees.

‘No, no! If one attends a formal gathering, one must naturally don traditional attire!’ Bale had boomed, drawing the bewildered stares of the entire hall. ‘The youth of this country do not appreciate how precious their own culture truly is! Tsk, tsk!’ Echoing the scolding tone of an eighty-year-old village elder, Bale had thoroughly commanded the room’s attention. Later in the evening, he had been spotted swirling a crystal wine glass, drunkenly demanding that they serve him makgeolli instead. Shin-hoo was morbidly curious to discover exactly who had brainwashed the foreign Hunter with such antiquated values so soon after his arrival in Korea.

“And who even came up with a ridiculous, localized name like Bae Tae-il—ah.“

“Are you going to continue speaking about other men?” Haeju interrupted, his voice dropping an octave.

His wandering hand grew significantly bolder, pressing firmly against Shin-hoo’s lower abdomen before slipping beneath the parted lapels of his robe. Feeling the localized heat rapidly pooling low in his belly, Shin-hoo surrendered his weight completely to Haeju’s intoxicating touch.

It had been a long time since they had shared a moment like this. Between reuniting with Kanghyeon, orchestrating his public resurrection, and preparing for the massive banquet, their schedules had been a grueling nightmare. Even though they ate and slept in the same house, they hadn’t found a single quiet second to truly look at each other.

Now that the banquet had concluded successfully and the first major hurdle was cleared, Shin-hoo felt a dormant heat stir within him, easily coaxed awake by Haeju’s blatant seduction. Tumbling beneath the sheets until they were both breathless seemed like the perfect remedy to melt away the accumulated exhaustion.

“Are we going upstairs now?” Shin-hoo asked softly.

“Yes.” With a fluid motion, Haeju scooped Shin-hoo into his arms, carrying him bridal style. “I need to relocate the master bedroom to the first floor,” he complained, his tone heavy with petulant impatience, as if even the short trek up the staircase was an unbearable delay.

The moment they crossed the bedroom threshold, Haeju bypassed all pleasantries, immediately burying his lips into the exposed skin of Shin-hoo’s chest. Gently coaxing the fervent man into a momentary pause, Shin-hoo slipped his arms out of his robe.

The sheer intensity of Haeju’s gaze made Shin-hoo’s mouth run dry.

Haeju’s stares were always agonizingly heavy. The raw desire and obsessive tenacity swirling within those blue irises were so violently explicit that merely maintaining eye contact often left Shin-hoo feeling thoroughly flushed.

Under the glowing azure luminescence of those predatory eyes, Shin-hoo carefully grasped the ring on his finger. As was his usual custom, he prepared to slide the metal off and place it safely on the nightstand—only for Haeju to abruptly snatch his wrist in an iron grip.

“Hm?”

Moving with calculated swiftness, Haeju pressed Shin-hoo back against the mattress. He intertwined their fingers perfectly, slotting his own hand over Shin-hoo’s captive one. The ring on Shin-hoo’s right hand physically collided with the identical ring on Haeju’s left.

“Let us keep them on tonight,” Haeju murmured.

His blue eyes gleamed with a wicked, predatory light, harboring the raw hunger of a wild beast eyeing its captive prey.

Don’t tell me…

“Why remove something so useful?” Haeju whispered.

“Did you figure out—”

“I am exceedingly curious,” Haeju interrupted, his voice thick with dark intent, “to experience exactly how these sensations are shared.”

The grip on Shin-hoo’s intertwined fingers tightened. The two magical bands pressed flush against each other.

Simultaneously, a wholly foreign sensation flooded Shin-hoo’s nervous system, perfectly manifesting the item’s promised ability. A feather-light, maddeningly ticklish tension rippled through him. The heavy pooling of heat in his groin intensified exponentially, painted in startlingly vivid, unfamiliar hues. It was unmistakably his own escalating arousal, yet layered flawlessly over it was Haeju’s.

Watching the visible tremor rattle Shin-hoo’s pupils, Haeju’s eyes crinkled into delighted half-moons.

“Wait, are you—”

Using his free hand, Haeju reached down and grasped his own arousal. Slowly, deliberately, he stroked his half-erect member up and down.

Shin-hoo’s thighs instantly jerked, trembling violently at the phantom friction. It was Haeju’s body being touched, yet Shin-hoo’s completely untouched member flared with the exact same electrifying jolt of stimulation. The suffocating heat and the unyielding pressure of a large, calloused palm wrapping around him translated perfectly to Shin-hoo’s hyper-sensitive nerves.

“Does this kind of stimulation transfer to you as well?” Haeju inquired innocently.

“This is—wait a minute.”

Shin-hoo desperately struggled to retreat, attempting to drag his body away from the sensory overload. It was utterly futile. He couldn’t stop Haeju from touching his own body.

Beneath the rigid planes of his abdomen, Haeju’s fierce erection swelled eagerly beneath his own deliberate touch. Merely watching Haeju stroke himself while glaring down at Shin-hoo like he wanted to devour him whole was visually intoxicating enough to shatter his composure. But pairing that devastating sight with the phantom sensation of a thick palm rhythmically squeezing his own length was sheer sensory torture.

“…”

Shin-hoo clamped his jaw shut, fighting the urge to vocalize his distress. Catching that subtle clench of his jaw, Haeju purposefully altered his rhythm, stroking himself with far more explicit, agonizing slowness. Shin-hoo held his breath, locking the muscles in his lower back in a desperate bid to withstand the onslaught.

Despite his valiant efforts, his pelvis betrayed him, trembling in minute, involuntary spasms. A sheen of cold sweat broke out across his chest. His hips shuddered without his permission.

This was a disastrously dangerous signal. This exact loss of control was why he had been so terrified of Haeju discovering the ring’s true function.

“Let’s just… do it normally. Please?” Shin-hoo begged softly.

“This is the first time I have ever seen you look this remarkably flustered.”

During their previous intimate encounters, Haeju had rarely found the time to study Shin-hoo’s facial expressions so meticulously. The man beneath him was simply too breathtaking, and Haeju was typically too violently entranced by his every gasp and movement to afford such a leisurely, voyeuristic observation.

But tonight was fundamentally different. From the moment the absolute locus of control had transferred into his hands via the rings, Haeju had zero intention of letting Shin-hoo escape.

The sight of Shin-hoo biting down hard on his lower lip, his brow furrowed in acute, helpless overstimulation, was an aggressively intoxicating picture. Watching Shin-hoo’s completely untouched member slowly, desperately twitch to attention beneath the shared phantom friction, Haeju finally aligned his lower half against Shin-hoo’s.

A sharp, breathless gasp tore from Shin-hoo’s throat.

When Haeju grasped both of their slick, feverish lengths in a single, encompassing grip and stroked upward, Shin-hoo finally released the ragged, shuddering breath he had been painfully holding in.

Unlike Haeju, who was visibly thrilled and thoroughly entertained by discovering this utterly defenseless side of his partner, Shin-hoo felt like he was actively dying of embarrassment. He would have vastly preferred their usual frantic, mindless tangling of limbs. Under Haeju’s relentless, obsessively observant gaze, Shin-hoo flushed a brilliant, agonizing crimson from the base of his neck to the tips of his toes.