Chapter 103

“Pardon?”

Keeping his stride even, Geum Seoul lifted his gaze.

“Probably.”

Having voiced a speculation he would normally never indulge in, Gye Do-hyeop sifted through his memories.

The day he returned from his disciplinary leave, the day he had wounded the boy with his reckless tongue. What Geum Seoul had wept into his chest that day were deeply saturated gems. Beholding those stones of a vivid, striking azure far richer than usual, Gye Do-hyeop had deduced another crucial clue. At the time, he had chalked it up to tears of joy at seeing him, but looking back with the truth in hand, they were born of deep emotional upheaval from a wounded heart.

A catalyst of that magnitude was what it took to trigger a dramatic leap in Geum Seoul’s gem rank. He had initially assumed improving the boy’s living conditions and giving him a comfortable life would raise it, but that had its distinct limits.

“……”

“Doesn’t look like you need to take any more tests. It’s just a hunch.”

Cupping Geum Seoul’s head with a casual, affectionate pat, Gye Do-hyeop interlaced their fingers and walked on. Before he could dwell on it any longer, Geum Seoul nodded.

“Ah… here, it actually looks like people have been coming and going.”

When Yu Jeong-ham changed the subject, Geum Seoul looked around in all directions. The paint on the walls had bloated with moisture, peeling away like shedding skin. While the messy cables dangling from the ceiling were no different from the rest of the basement, the dust accumulated on the floor was distinctly thinner. It was the mark of a well-trodden path.

“Geum Seoul, put this on.”

The place had not seen sunlight in years, and damp cold sat deep in the air. Seoul had already been shivering, so he did not protest when Gye Do-hyeop draped the thick flight jacket over his shoulders. The garment was obviously far too large and unmistakably someone else’s, and the sight stirred some primitive satisfaction in Do-hyeop; he leaned down and sucked once more at the soft flesh of Seoul’s cheek. By now, Seoul was accustomed enough to this level of casual intimacy that he only flushed pink. Yu Jeong-ham, on the other hand, sent his eyes skittering desperately around the room, pretending with every ounce of professionalism that he had witnessed nothing.

“It’s here.”

Geum Seoul came to a stop before a massive iron door. Unlike the abandoned doors they had passed along the way, this one was pristine enough to make it obvious it had been installed recently. Instead of being mounted on the side where a doorknob belonged, the handle was fixed dead center in the form of a heavy wheel.

“I’ll open it.”

Yu Jeong-ham gripped the round handle with both hands. The massive iron wheel was so heavy that it screeched in protest each time it turned.

Thud, thud.

With the heavy sound of massive iron gears engaging and shifting into alignment, the ponderous door swung open. As the thick steel plate parted with agonizing slowness, a pitch-black void revealed itself, looking for all the world like the mouth of a cave. The instant they crossed the threshold and took a single step inside, the low hum of a spinning generator rose, and the emergency power system flickered to life.

The chamber was surprisingly large. Against the shabby, rust-eaten walls, the quantity of gleaming electronic equipment looked almost surreal. Monitors covered every wall in disciplined rows, identical black screens mounted one after another above heaps of machinery Seoul could not name. Yet the entire place appeared dead. The power was cut, and not a single indicator light glowed.

“It’s identical to what I saw at the other Node hideout. Even the handwriting matches, so the same person must’ve written it.”

Geum Seoul muttered as he walked inside. The same slogan he had seen before was scrawled across an empty wall in spray paint. Gye Do-hyeop stroked the back of Geum Seoul’s head.

“What should we be looking for?”

“Information. I instructed the police to leave everything untouched as much as possible. I can handle it myself. Just let me pull what we need first.”

Only then did Geum Seoul realize the purpose of the oversized duffel bag Yu Jeong-ham had been slinging over his shoulder. Murmuring that the evidence against Gwak Chun-young had to be here as well, Yu Jeong-ham drew open the bag’s zipper and crouched before the computer closest to the entrance. Geum Seoul scanned the documents strewn carelessly across the desks and ventured deeper inside.

Shift.

Unlike the two who had immediately set to work, Gye Do-hyeop stood motionless in the dead center of the room, scanning the high ceiling, his brow furrowed as he narrowed one eye.

Something was off.

The neat rows of server racks made it abundantly clear that someone had been occupying this space until very recently. Even the scattered sheets strewn across the floor allowed one to picture the sheer panic of the hurried arrest.

Yet the air in the room was strangely cool.

“Yu Jeong-ham.”

“Yes, sir.”

“What time did they arrest the Node operatives in here?”

Yu Jeong-ham, who had been dismantling the computer nearest the door, tilted his head in thought.

“Around noon today, sir.”

It was now well past two in the afternoon. Even assuming every system had been shut down in one fell swoop, two hours was hardly enough time for the heat generated by so many computers in a windowless, airtight room to dissipate to this level of chill.

Hummm. Hummm.

Gye Do-hyeop narrowed his eyes, shifting his gaze to the center of the ceiling. While it was possible the computers hadn’t even been powered on to begin with, a faint vibration hummed from the thick fissure cutting across the middle of the ceiling. It was the sound of something running. Bit by bit, the predator’s razor instincts snapped into gear.

“Geum Seoul.”

The man barked, instantly lengthening his stride. His target was Geum Seoul, who was flipping through papers on the far side of the room.

“Get out of there.”

“What?”

“I said get out!”

“Ah—!”

Right then.

BOOM—!

Out of nowhere, the center of the ceiling ruptured with a deafening blast violent enough to shake one’s very entrails. More precisely, a steel wall descended like a guillotine from the fissure Gye Do-hyeop had been watching, slicing through the ceiling in freefall. Before Geum Seoul could even lift his head, he was yanked violently backward, his eyes squeezing shut on reflex.

Screeech, screech!

The impact was catastrophic enough to rattle the entire chamber as if struck by an earthquake. Pitch-black darkness flooded his vision, leaving him blind to what was happening, but Geum Seoul knew he was buried face-first against Gye Do-hyeop’s chest. Alongside the horrific din of metal and machinery buckling into twisted scrap, the cement flooring pulverized, spraying shrapnel in every direction.

Crash—crash—boom—!

“Fucking hell—!”

“Deputy Director!”

At Yu Jeong-ham’s terrified shout, Geum Seoul lifted his head from where he had been clinging to Gye Do-hyeop’s waist. The chamber bucked violently from side to side as though the whole structure were being slammed against bedrock. Concussions rolled through the walls. Fluorescent tubes exploded overhead, glass and broken wiring raining down together. Yet through all of it, Seoul remained completely shielded against Do-hyeop’s chest, even the back of his head covered. One massive hand clamped around him with crushing force, determined that not even the smallest shard would touch him.

Boom!

Bzzzt—bzz. Bzz.

Skrrreeeech….

Even after the earth-shattering roar died down, Gye Do-hyeop did not release his hold until the snap of severed cables and the clatter of falling debris ceased entirely. Only when Geum Seoul wriggled and pulled his head back did Gye Do-hyeop finally ease the tension in his grip.

“Are you hurt anywhere?”

It was pitch darkness. In a void where every light that had illuminated the room only moments ago was gone, replaced by a dense, acrid blackness, Gye Do-hyeop cupped Geum Seoul’s cheek, his thumb frantically tracing the skin.

“…I’m fine. Are you all right?”

“Your stomach—does it hurt?”

The man’s tone was uncharacteristic. His voice, usually brimming with relaxed arrogance, was low, rigid, and urgent.

When ambushed, his first instinct should have been cold fury. It should have been rapid calculation. Having lived his entire life that way, such was the natural circuitry of his mind. Yet right now, hanging over Gye Do-hyeop as thickly as the pale haze of dust, was nothing but sheer dread.

“Deputy Director. I’m really okay.”

It was Geum Seoul who caught the hand frantically roaming over his cheek, his shoulders, and his stomach. When he squeezed it firmly and spoke in a steady voice, Gye Do-hyeop exhaled a breath like a groan—a blend of relief and raw irritation.

“Of all fucking times, right now.”

Flicker. Bzzzt.

One of the fluorescent tubes dangling precariously from the ceiling had survived, flickering weakly to life. Thanks to that dim pulse, Geum Seoul was able to make out their surroundings and lifted his head.

“Deputy Director, look at this…”

The vast room had been severed cleanly in two. A colossal black steel barrier had dropped from the ceiling and bisected the chamber, crushing stacks of computers and monitors beneath it and flinging wreckage across the floor. The ruined equipment was the least of their problems. Their exit was gone. Yu Jeong-ham stood on the entrance side; Gye Do-hyeop and Geum Seoul were sealed on the inner side. The arm around Seoul’s back tightened hard enough to hurt.

“Seoul! Are you all right?”

Yu Jeong-ham’s voice came from the other side of the thick steel wall. Cupping the chin of Geum Seoul, who was looking around, Gye Do-hyeop dipped his head and pressed his face close.

“Are you certain you’re not hurt?”

His pitch-black eyes raked over the young man’s features again and again, as though desperate to unearth some injury Geum Seoul himself might have missed.

“Yes. Really.”

A massive wall had just fallen out of the ceiling, so aside from being thoroughly shaken, he genuinely wasn’t injured. When Geum Seoul breathed in a slightly uneven cadence, Gye Do-hyeop scrutinized his complexion with relentless scrutiny.

“If anything feels even slightly wrong, say so. This isn’t the time to grit your teeth and bear it.”

“I will, right away.”

At that promise, Gye Do-hyeop pinched the pale cheek firmly with his thumb before straightening up, turning toward Yu Jeong-ham’s side.

“Hey. You little shit, did you crawl into bed with Gwak Chun-young or something?”

“I’m sorry, sir! There were definitely no abnormalities during the pre-breach sweep, and I took it on good faith since the Commissioner General personally ordered a thorough inspection.”

“Haaah. Every fucking thing around here is a goddamn mess.”

Under normal circumstances, this would have been trivial, and he wouldn’t have cared even if something far worse went down. But right now, Geum Seoul was at his side. As Gye Do-hyeop ground out a low curse beneath his breath, a hand reached out and clasped his tightly. Gye Do-hyeop’s gaze locked onto Geum Seoul’s eyelashes and cheeks. Almost in the same breath, the solitary flickering fluorescent light died completely, plunging their surroundings into absolute blackness.

“I’ll head up to where the signal reaches and call for rescue immediately!”

“Dispatch the rescue cell first. How long will it take?”

“Yes, sir! Estimated arrival is one hundred and eighty seconds.”

“Get it done in a hundred. If anything goes wrong before then, you’re the first one who dies.”

“Understood, sir! Seoul, please hang tight for just a moment!”

After directing his last concern entirely toward Seoul, Yu Jeong-ham hurried away, his scurrying footsteps shrinking into the distance. Geum Seoul slowly raised his head. Without a door, the room had become exactly what it looked like: a sealed tomb. He tapped the smartwatch on his wrist, but a red icon glowed in the corner of the screen. No signal. No reception at all.

“We’ll be out of here in no time.”

“I know. I’m really all right.”

Geum Seoul answered with deliberate firmness, as if eager to reassure the man, and waved his palm through the acrid air a few times, narrowing his eyes.

“Still, something about this place is weird.”

“How so?”

Gye Do-hyeop asked. He himself had sensed the anomaly through the unnatural chill in a room packed with computers and the mechanical hum from the ceiling. Geum Seoul had likely picked up on something strange in his own way—and that was what mattered.

“There’s just too much installed on the walls and the ceiling. I don’t know if it’s because this used to be a distribution warehouse, but…”

“Explain exactly what you saw.”