Chapter 36

From their first encounter, Yu Jeong-ham had felt a measure of pity for Geum Seoul, akin to seeing a child begging through trash heaps in the slums. Now, that pity carried a different shade. Being swept into this conflict was tragic, as was catching Gye Do-hyeop’s eye because of that striking face. Jeong-ham’s frequent sighs stemmed from genuine concern: dragging a fragile youth into perilous operations might twist an already wretched fate into absolute ruin, just like Lee Hee-joong, who had ended up murdered with his eyes gouged out.

“…Do I put this on?” Seoul asked softly.

Jeong-ham nodded in confirmation, “Yes. It’s best to wear it whenever you step outside.”

While Geum Seoul’s previous disguises were cheap and crude, the kit Yu Jeong-ham handed him was visibly premium. Though slightly awkward due to the unfamiliar materials, Seoul worked with small, deft movements, applying adhesive to attach the prosthetic nose. Slipping in the faux dental braces with a faint click, his hands moved with practiced ease.

Having swiftly restored his former homely appearance, Geum Seoul followed Yu Jeong-ham out of the apartment. Lacking the silicone padding to alter his physique, his clothing hung loosely around his slender frame. Though offered fresh clothes, Seoul insisted on wearing the long-sleeved outfit he had arrived in.

Climbing into the rear seat, he leaned back and turned his eyes toward the window. Finding the black leather cool to the touch, he ran his palms lightly over the cushions.

Seoul still had no idea what had become of Park Gil-pyeong that day. Why had the boss, who had pursued him so terrifyingly, suddenly vanished from the window frame? Was he still in the neighborhood? Had something happened without his knowledge? Perhaps Park Gil-pyeong had spotted the Deputy Director first and gone into hiding. While circumstantial evidence suggested the Deputy Director might have struck him down, the man’s hands had been empty when he reached out, and no presence lingered nearby. Suspicion alone offered no certainty.

Rin even saw my real face….

Anxious thoughts flooded his mind. In any case, returning to the shantytown would reveal the truth. Geum Seoul clasped his hands tightly, flexing and curling his fingers repeatedly. Though the makeup concealed his features, the unfamiliar textures prompted him to touch his nose periodically. The oversized clothes felt hollow around his frame, and his throat ran perpetually dry.

Throughout the long drive, Geum Seoul did not close his eyes once. Yu Jeong-ham had switched off autonomous mode and was driving manually; whenever he glanced into the rearview mirror, he found the young man repeatedly clenching and unclenching his fists, too tense to rest.

Seeking to break the awkward silence, Yu Jeong-ham glanced back. “Is the apartment comfortable for you?”

Turning from the window toward the front seat, the youth nodded as the car halted at a red light.

“Yes, thanks to your care,” Seoul replied politely.

Just then, pedestrians crossing before the windshield caught his eye. About to add something, Geum Seoul’s eyes widened slightly. The entire front windshield transformed into a transparent display, projecting thin rectangular frames over the pedestrians’ faces with floating lines of text.

● SYSTEM

> Subject 004

C / No flagged history

The fine green text tracked a passing woman before vanishing, replaced by a young man.

● SYSTEM

> Subject 006

D / Identity concealment record / Low risk

Geum Seoul stared in speechless silence. “…”

As Geum Seoul stared intently at the HUD projection, Yu Jeong-ham glanced back into the rear seat, noticing where the youth’s eyes were fixed before casually offering an explanation.

Noticing his curiosity, Yu Jeong-ham explained, “It’s a protocol installed exclusively on agency vehicles.”

“What do those letters mean? Are they grades?” Seoul asked.

Classifying people by tier was familiar territory for Geum Seoul. Yet the screen omitted whether the individuals were secondary-gendered or unmutated, listing only alphabetic codes.

Yu Jeong-ham scratched at his temple. “Well, all automated cars have something like it built in. Even autonomous systems can’t prevent every collision. In the rare situation where impact becomes unavoidable, the car calculates who is more expendable to hit.”

“…What?”

At the stunned reaction, Yu Jeong-ham offered an awkward smile. It was indeed a sensitive subject. While civilian self-driving models concealed such algorithms beneath the surface, operational tactical vehicles displayed the HUD for convenience.

“What criteria does it use?” Seoul asked in bewilderment.

Jeong-ham replied with a shrug, “I don’t know the full details, but criminal records and social contribution value factor in.”

Geum Seoul exhaled a small, shaken breath. “Ah…”

In short, if he and another person stood on the road and one had to be struck, the car would run him down without hesitation. Hearing the shrinking tone, Yu Jeong-ham waved his hands dismissively.

“I don’t know the exact algorithms either,” Jeong-ham added quickly. “Besides, modern safety systems are so advanced that such accidents rarely occur.”

“Ah. I see….”

It was the kind of discourse typically relegated to late-night television debates. Since commercialization had progressed completely and anyone with means utilized the tech, debating ethics was far too late.

As the light changed and the vehicle surged forward, Geum Seoul turned back toward the side window. It struck him that in today’s world, regular people were treated little differently from gemstone omegas—though his own existence remained incomparably more worthless.

Despite committing no blunder, Yu Jeong-ham glanced into the rearview mirror with lingering unease. It was understandable that someone arriving from the destitute fringes would find such reality jarring. Considering changing the subject, he thought better of it and held his peace. As the car ascended the winding incline, a call chimed through the console.

Beep.

Gye Do-hyeop snarled over the speaker, —“Are you driving a fucking snail? Did you eat the accelerator pedal?”

Seoul’s ears perked up at Gye Do-hyeop’s voice. His eyes darted toward the center console. Having fidgeted nervously just moments before, he leaned slightly forward, a faint vitality returning to his gaze despite the abrasive scolding.

“We’re arriving shortly… just heading up the hill. Ah, I see you. I see you now,” Jeong-ham reported.

The line clicked dead without a response. Telephone etiquette was entirely nonexistent. While Jeong-ham had grown accustomed to his superior’s brazen demeanor, the timid youth might well find it startling every time.

Yu Jeong-ham broke the silence cautiously. “His phrasing is… rather rough, isn’t it?”

It sounded like an opening to gossip about his boss, but his intention was the exact opposite, meaning to follow up with reassurance that the Deputy Director’s bark was worse than his bite. Yet Seoul’s response caught him off guard.

“Still, his actions aren’t like that,” Seoul murmured.

“…”

Jeong-ham wanted to ask whether the kid had ever witnessed Gye Do-hyeop in the field. Navigating the heavy vehicle along the rutted dirt track kept him from replying immediately, during which Geum Seoul broke the quiet.

“He curses a lot, but the substance isn’t malicious or cruel. And his voice is very pleasant….” Seoul added softly.

Yu Jeong-ham could only stammer in bewilderment, “Ah… yes, well. His voice is certainly pleasant… and he doesn’t… blame….”

He wanted to argue whether snapping about eating an accelerator pedal like a snail on lettuce constituted praise rather than abuse, but the earnest remark about Gye Do-hyeop’s voice disarmed all his counterarguments.

Had the insults Seoul endured throughout his life been so vile that his superior’s foul mouth sounded sweet? Yet Jeong-ham’s attempt to rationalize Seoul’s perception missed the mark. A pleasant voice? It was a simple compliment, yet the quiet fondness beneath it was unmistakable.

Regardless of whatever sentiment the two harbored, Geum Seoul appeared far too fragile beside Gye Do-hyeop. Anyone laying eyes on them would reach the identical verdict.

Visually, their pairing was striking—a masterpiece of aesthetics that might occur once in a millennium. Yet their temperaments were polar opposites. Uniting timid hesitation that spent hours picking at nails with manic violence that snapped living teeth to musical scales while laughing hysterically seemed an impossible synthesis.

Parting his lips several times in vain, Yu Jeong-ham pressed the accelerator and parked the car in the clearing. He did not utter another word until the engine died, fearing that speaking would let slip treasonous slander against his superior. Whatever complaints he might voice about Deputy Director Gye would be unvarnished truth, yet silence remained the wiser path.

Pressing his face against the window, Seoul murmured softly, “He’s coming.”

Just as he said, Gye Do-hyeop, who had been smoking a hand-rolled cigarette in a corner of the small clearing’s parking lot, extinguished the ember and walked toward the newly parked car. While Geum Seoul was unbuckling his seatbelt, the rear door swung open from the outside.

Gye Do-hyeop scoffed with dry sarcasm. “Fucking fast, aren’t you? Why didn’t you just arrive tomorrow?”

“Yes. But I couldn’t find my sneakers, so I wore the ones you gave me,” Seoul explained in a small voice.

Gye Do-hyeop scoffed, “I threw those old rags in the trash where they belong. You call those sneakers? Even a neighborhood mutt wouldn’t chew on that garbage.”

“…Those were the very first sneakers I bought with my own money,” Seoul murmured softly.

Gye Do-hyeop waved a dismissive hand. “They looked tough as hell, I’ll give you that. Anyway, wear those. They look good on you.”

While their exchange unfolded, Yu Jeong-ham trudged out of the driver’s seat. The tone Gye Do-hyeop used was night and day compared to the venom he had poured over the speaker earlier. Despite arriving earlier than the scheduled hour, he had snarled about driving a snail, only to turn around and tell Geum Seoul he looked pretty.

Come to think of it, things were exactly as Geum Seoul had observed. While profanity peppered the words, the substance wasn’t hostile or insulting in the least. If anything, it leaned toward the complete opposite.

Furthermore, Geum Seoul was uniquely baffling in his own right. Cutting off Gye Do-hyeop’s sarcastic remark about arriving tomorrow with a plain yes, he immediately pivoted to his own business. What is with this kid? Have I gone insane? Has the Ghost finally lost his mind completely, or is the entire world going mad? Dazed in confusion, Yu Jeong-ham hurried over before he could draw any stray curses.

Gye Do-hyeop gestured toward his jaw. “Does that one hurt less?”

Assuming it was a random question at first, Geum Seoul realized Gye Do-hyeop’s eyes were fixed on his lips and nodded quickly. The man was referring to the faux dental braces. A calloused thumb pressed down against the youth’s lower lip. Assuming Gye Do-hyeop intended to inspect inside, Seoul parted his mouth slightly. Yet instead of peering into the oral cavity as he had done at home, a brief chuckle rumbled from the older man, accompanied by a quiet mutter of bullshit.

Pointing toward a sleek motorcycle parked nearby, Gye Do-hyeop asked, “We’re riding this up. Ever ridden on the back of one?”

The machine looked streamlined, expensive, and formidable at a single glance. When the youth answered no, Gye Do-hyeop muttered that he figured as much, before pushing a full-face helmet down over Seoul’s head.

“Climb on,” Gye Do-hyeop commanded. “Hold onto my waist tight and your head won’t go rolling.”

“…”

Blinking under the heavy weight of the visor, Geum Seoul stood frozen in place. Having donned his own helmet, Gye Do-hyeop turned around to find the youth motionless, immediately sensing why those dark pupils were darting in alarm behind the glass.

Gye Do-hyeop raised an eyebrow beneath his shield. “Scared?”

“If I don’t hold on properly, will my head get cut off?” Seoul asked tentatively.

A faint furrow creased Gye Do-hyeop’s brows. It wasn’t frustration at Geum Seoul’s hesitation, but rather the sudden realization that his phrasing might have been excessively harsh.

The Deputy Director’s workplace was packed with individuals whose egos were grossly bloated. Unless one spoke with unvarnished bluntness, they constantly twisted meaning to serve their own advantage; only by shoving profanity straight into their ears did they grasp the context. Because that matched his innate temperament perfectly, he had never felt any need to polish or soften his speech. In truth, ever since turning sixteen, he had never once second-guessed his words or actions.

Gye Do-hyeop let out a low hum. “Mm.”

There was no strict necessity to travel on a dirt bike. Other operatives functioned perfectly well on three-wheeled utility trikes, and several were parked behind the transport vehicles. Yet Gye Do-hyeop possessed zero inclination to put Geum Seoul on one of those. The dirt bike was the sole option.

Gye Do-hyeop pulled off his helmet once more. Sweeping back his raven-black hair, he caught both of Geum Seoul’s hands and wrapped them firmly around his own waist. Though demonstrating the proper posture as promised, the difference now was that they stood face-to-face.

“I’ll ride slow,” Gye Do-hyeop promised in a steady rumble. “So your neck stays intact.”

It was a statement delivered after deliberate thought. Far from sugarcoated, it represented the absolute height of Gye Do-hyeop’s capacity for reassurance. Wondering how else he was supposed to coax him, he watched Geum Seoul slowly nod and clench his slender fists tightly. The resulting tension pulled Seoul’s arms taut around Gye Do-hyeop’s waist, locking them in an intimate embrace that coaxed a smirk to the corner of the man’s mouth.

Tap, tap.