Chapter 89

Three days after Gye Do-hyeop’s return, the atmosphere at headquarters was shifting once again. Even before Do-hyeop had arrived, Noh Pil-gyu had been scurrying about, prying into Gwak Chun-young’s remaining inner circle and subordinates outside detention, and had finally dug up a way to decrypt the ledger that had fallen into Do-hyeop’s hands. The upside to Noh Pil-gyu throwing his weight around was that he remained excessively cautious about doing anything reckless; the downside was that his already boundless paranoia had skyrocketed to an extreme.

Terrified that Gye Do-hyeop might suddenly turn up with Grade-A gemstones if left unwatched for even half a day, he dutifully came to work every morning and guarded his office until evening, his nerves on edge as he tracked Do-hyeop’s every movement. At least he didn’t hound Do-hyeop to cough up where the ledger was hidden. Instead, he vented his frustration by cornering Yu Jeong-ham, popping veins in his neck as he ranted about the chain of command on several occasions.

“Haa…”

Right now was no exception. Having stood on his feet for nearly an hour and a half, Yu Jeong-ham emerged from the director’s office just before closing time, exhaling a heavy sigh as he rubbed his throbbing brow.

The moment Deputy Director Gye returned, he moved into staff quarters directly across from Geum Seoul’s unit. Or at least, that was how it looked from the hallway. He made a token show of carrying a few bags and clothes into his assigned room, then spent every single night sleeping in Seoul’s bed instead. Living next door, Yu Jeong-ham had no chance of missing it.

Objectively speaking, the situation was far from ideal. Noh Pil-gyu meddled in every little matter, demanding reports on all operations, and Gwak Chun-young’s bail application had officially been granted. As time ticked away, Noh Pil-gyu would scrape together intelligence from other sources, while Gwak Chun-young would remain in seclusion, pulling strings through his lackeys.

Yet Deputy Chief Gye kept his mouth shut. Though days had passed since his return to the country, he did nothing more than silently handle the tasks Noh Pil-gyu assigned. When Yu Jeong-ham asked about a broker who could track down the Grade-A gems, Do-hyeop had simply replied, ‘What business is that of yours?’ When Jeong-ham answered that he wanted to help, Do-hyeop gave him a look of absolute derision, as if asking if he was genuinely that stupid, and retorted, ‘Just shove food down your gullet and take a shit.’

Only today did Yu Jeong-ham realize that this silence stemmed from heightened security. While they had previously discussed matters large and small inside the deputy chief’s office, the man had now chosen to keep his mouth shut even there.

‘A list is coming in this afternoon. Check it.’

Gye Do-hyeop had passed down the order vaguely. At first, Jeong-ham couldn’t decipher what on earth their resident specter was instructing him to do, but by afternoon, the answer became obvious. The ‘list’ he had mentioned was a roster of criminals operating in China who assisted in smuggling gems into the country.

Yu Jeong-ham was certain that Do-hyeop was moving with such discretion because Geum Seoul’s safety was on the line. Until now, he had been a man who habitually swore to flip the table and slaughter everyone if things got bothersome, but this time, he couldn’t afford to be reckless. Seoul was already exposed to Gwak Chun-young.

“Jeong-ham sunbae, did you just get out of the director’s office?”

“Yeah…”

Waving a weary hand at Da-ol’s pitiful glance, Yu Jeong-ham walked back to his desk and sank into his chair. In the meantime, work logs had piled high across his monitor. Scrolling down slowly, he suddenly froze.

● SYSTEM

18:00 Hyeonbuk-gu protest expected; Support Team on monitoring standby

Lately, backlash from the Node had been growing fiercer across Seoul. The Node had begun staging protests, inciting crowds with claims that an innocent trading company president had become the tragic scapegoat of a corrupt government.

Wiretaps planted at the hideout uncovered during Geum Seoul’s debut support operation had yielded reasonably useful intel regarding the protests, but there was not a single mention of Gwak Chun-young. Given the circumstances, their side appeared to be exercising extreme caution as well.

“It’s not like we can just round them all up, and we’re swamped as it is…”

While Jeong-ham had his hands full, Gye Do-hyeop was busier still. Having evidently decided to boost his reputation as much as possible before his head was placed on the chopping block, Noh Pil-gyu harped constantly on results, harrying everyone, which kept Do-hyeop out on field assignments continuously since his return.

Naturally, spending less time with Geum Seoul meant Deputy Chief Gye’s temper was hitting an all-time high. It had always been vile, but after returning from his disciplinary deployment, it grew significantly worse. To put it in perspective, even though Noh Pil-gyu was acting especially unbearable lately, Do-hyeop’s irritation was dictated not by Noh Pil-gyu, but by Seoul’s physical condition.

If Geum Seoul looked unusually exhausted in the morning or coughed while sipping water, Gye Do-hyeop would throw tantrums the entire morning; if Seoul pulled off another achievement at work and seemed in good spirits, Do-hyeop would ease off somewhat. The words tumbling from his mouth were largely the same, but the venom behind them differed completely.

Now, even without anyone saying it aloud, every member of the team knew: Geum Seoul was Gye Do-hyeop’s sole exception and barometer. Even the cronies in Noh Pil-gyu’s faction no longer picked fights with Seoul. Regardless of their differing allegiances, none had any intention of crossing Do-hyeop. In the field, the one holding their lifelines was not Noh Pil-gyu, but Deputy Chief Gye. If his mood soured and he chose to be petty, he could easily pick out three or four of them and drive them straight into the jaws of death.

“Seoul-ssi.”

At Yu Jeong-ham’s call, Geum Seoul, who had been quietly staring at his monitor from his seat, lifted his head slightly.

“I just sent you a file. We have a recon mission the day after tomorrow, and intel says they’re gathering around Seonghyang-dong. Please look over the underground areas and abandoned buildings as well.”

“Yes.”

“You can head home today and do it tomorrow.”

“I will.”

Nodding a couple of times, Geum Seoul set his lips firmly. Contrary to his reply, he straightened up to begin working right away, but Yu Jeong-ham’s gaze lingered on his face.

“Seoul-ssi, are you alright? You look exhausted.”

“Ah. I didn’t sleep very well last night. I’m fine.”

“You’re sure? If your health crashes, we’re in big trouble.”

Hearing the deep concern laced in his voice, Geum Seoul nodded once more to reassure him. Only then did Yu Jeong-ham avert his eyes. Checking to make sure no one was watching, Seoul covered his eyelids with an open palm to smother the creeping exhaustion.

“…”

He bit down on his lip to keep from sighing. As Gye Do-hyeop grew busier, Geum Seoul became just as occupied. If anything, the brief intervals of physical separation were a relief. Seoul believed that had the deputy chief been even slightly less busy, his pregnancy would have been discovered in an instant.

Eating remained an ordeal. In fact, after confirming the pregnancy, his food aversions worsened, leaving him barely able to scrape by on fruit or beverages. Even the smell of cooked rice made his stomach heave, making it impossible to chew a single mouthful.

Thanks to only catching glimpses of him at dawn or early morning over the past three days, he had avoided detection. Geum Seoul still shut himself alone in the archives, swallowing back bile as he pored over books on Omega pregnancy.

If there was any improvement, it was that his hypersomnia had decreased. That, however, seemed tangled with nervous tension; as the days piled up without telling Gye Do-hyeop that he was pregnant, Seoul spent most of his waking hours strung taut with anxiety.

Geum Seoul understood completely why the man could only despise pregnancy. Bearing blood he had never asked for, he had lived in his grandfather’s house branded as Gwi-chang, only to be buried alive in the earth alongside his dead ancestor. There was no way he could want a family.

Seoul felt no different. Having a child was a crushing burden. His was a destitute life with nothing to teach and nothing to pass down. Geum Seoul did not want to teach his child how to sleep while avoiding patches of mold. He did not want to explain why one had to walk around wearing a lump of silicone, nor teach how to stretch a single fistful of rice over an entire week. The misfortune he carried was already more than he could bear alone.

Yet whatever choice he made, he had to tell Gye Do-hyeop. Geum Seoul did not know how to visit a hospital or see a doctor on his own. The moment he tried to step outside this facility, the man would notice immediately.

In the end, abandonment was inevitable. And since his position afforded him no power to decide anything on his own, informing Gye Do-hyeop was the utmost priority. Ironically, that very certainty kept sealing Seoul’s lips.

Gye Do-hyeop would return home at dawn after work finished late. Seoul would pretend to wake at the sound of his arrival, though in truth he had not slept a wink until then, managing to drift off only after exchanging a few quiet words and being gathered into his arms.

It was strange and miraculous. Within the deputy chief’s embrace, even guilt transformed into the urge to sleep, and the unsettling nausea turning his stomach vanished as if washed clean away.

Demanding to know if he was eating properly and interrogating him about why he kept losing weight, Do-hyeop returned home every day with both hands laden with good food. Geum Seoul would pack those dishes with good intentions when heading to the office, only for them to be tossed into the trash after repeated bouts of dry-heaving before a single bite could cross his lips.

Coming to bed after showering upon his dawn returns, the man would pull the curled-up Seoul into his chest from behind. Burying his nose into the nape of his neck, he would joke, ‘Go to sleep right now, or we’re having another go.’ Seoul would hurry to close his eyes and pretend to be asleep, drawing a low chuckle from behind him. Tears welled up slightly. He loved the man’s warmth and scent so deeply, yet the crushing realization that none of it belonged to him made sorrow surge within him.

The man worried about him in his own clumsy, rough way, but with utter sincerity. Tracing his wrists, belly, and chest with probing pressure, he would demand to know why the healthy flesh Seoul had gained was wasting away again. ‘Want me to get you some herbal medicine?’ he would ask, playfully biting Seoul’s shoulder without hurting him.

Washing his face every morning, Geum Seoul resolved anew: I’ll tell him today. I’ll tell him I’m carrying his child. Yet late at night, as arms wrapped around his waist and whispered crude jokes or rough words brushed his ear with searing warmth, his throat would close up every single time.

He knew it wasn’t a smart thing to do. It would come out sooner or later anyway, and the moment the deputy chief caught even a second of breathing room, he would notice immediately.