Chapter 35

“Haah, haah—!”

Myeong-joo opened his eyes to the sensation of gentle hands brushing off his attire.

Disoriented by the dream that had convinced him he was walking down the wedding aisle, he blinked blankly at his surroundings: a narrow alley bordered by brick walls, an empty outdoor alcove… Only then did memory return with brutal force. He had been ambushed by a demonic fiend behind the hotel and lost consciousness.

In his confusion, the vivid impressions of the dream evaporated like mist. His limbs felt heavy and leaden, as though he were just rising from a prolonged sickbed.

A pained groan slipped from his throat. “Ngh…”

Next came the sensation of hands gingerly inspecting his body. Terror seized him that the beast had resumed its bizarre assault. Scrambling to sit upright, Myeong-joo caught sight of Lee Yi-tan carefully dabbing a stain from his dress shirt with a linen handkerchief.

“What are you doing…?”

“…Ah, have you come to your senses, Instructor?” Yi-tan asked, looking up.

Dressed in a tailored dark suit, Lee Yi-tan met Myeong-joo’s gaze, his features clouded with palpable embarrassment. Only then did Myeong-joo inspect his own state. Something viscous clung to the front of his shirt, giving off a cloying, sickly-sweet musk that only amplified its metallic stench.

“What is this…?”

He blinked in a stupor. The movements of Yi-tan’s hand dabbing at the fabric grew noticeably hurried.

“What is this…? What got all over me…?” Myeong-joo stammered.

Even as he mumbled in confusion, the realization dawned on him unbidden. The turbid liquid and fishy musk pointed unmistakably to semen. Shock seized him—he assumed that he had ejaculated without knowing it while unconscious.

“W-wait…!”

His face, neck, and ears flushed burning crimson as he frantically reached down to cover himself.

“Wait… Just a moment,” Yi-tan urged, catching his wrist. He pulled Myeong-joo’s hand down with an iron grip that made the older man wince, looking at him with a conflicted, awkward grimace. “If you enter the hall in this state, people will misinterpret everything.”

“Uh…” Myeong-joo’s mouth fell open before he shook his head in horrified denial. “No, it is nothing like that!”

He belatedly understood how stunned Yi-tan must have been to find him collapsed behind the hotel drenched in fluid that anyone would identify as semen. To imaginative onlookers, it would look as though a former paramour had tracked him to the venue for a scandalous final tryst. Though his sluggish mind scrambled to assemble an explanation, he had no idea how to put the truth into words.

He could hardly claim that a demonic fiend had suddenly materialized, pinned him against the masonry, and fondled his body until this happened. Furthermore, Myeong-joo’s disheveled state was far too compromised to dismiss so lightly.

Observing Myeong-joo’s mounting panic, Yi-tan released a quiet sigh. “The ceremony is shortly, and your shirt is ruined. Fortunately, your trousers appear untainted.”

“Ah…”

Myeong-joo gingerly looked down at his lap. Just as Yi-tan said, the front of his trousers was completely clean. Recalling his earlier erection, he had assumed it was his own emission, but clearly it was not.

Then whose semen is this?

He fell into fresh turmoil, mortification making coherent thought impossible.

“I… I do not know what happened,” Myeong-joo stammered, his voice trembling uncontrollably. “A demonic fiend the size of a house appeared out of nowhere and dragged me away…”

Barely managing to lift his eyes, Myeong-joo looked at Yi-tan, his chest tight with anxiety. Even to his own ears, the explanation sounded like utter nonsense.

Having studied him in silence, the younger man averted his gaze. That simple act of looking away made Myeong-joo’s heart plunge straight into his stomach. Besides the metallic, fishy smell, the shirt soaked in fluid clung to his bare skin, clammy and repulsive. Today was the wedding day of Lee Yi-tan, the pride of the military and the hero destined to save the nation; if people learned his groom had been found crumpled in the dirt, covered in anonymous semen…

Even now, Myeong-joo was an embarrassingly deficient match for Yi-tan. If rumors spread that Yi-tan—whose political footing was not yet unassailable—had wed a half-wit who didn’t even know who had violated him, Myeong-joo would become a permanent stain on his life. A filthy blemish upon the man he revered most.

“Ugh, urgh…!”

With that catastrophic revelation, a sudden surge of nausea wrenched his torso forward. A faint metallic reek rose in his throat; the internal hemorrhaging had flared up again. Desperate not to reveal his worsening condition, Myeong-joo held his breath, swallowing down the welling blood until the back of his esophagus felt scalded and raw.

“Oh dear, Instructor,” Yi-tan said softly.

As Myeong-joo trembled in distress, Yi-tan’s large hand touched his back, gently rubbing between his shoulder blades in slow, steady strokes. The gesture felt uncannily familiar.

Struggling to steady his senses, Myeong-joo fixed his wildly wavering eyes on Yi-tan. Whatever happened, he had to say something. He could not bear for Yi-tan to feel betrayed by his partner on his own wedding day. Whether affection existed between them or not, that was unthinkable.

“I… I did not commit any shameful act,” Myeong-joo insisted desperately. “Truly. I lost consciousness out of nowhere, and I have no idea what happened—”

“Calm yourself, Instructor.” Yi-tan’s quiet voice cut through the frantic plea.

Myeong-joo finally looked into his face. Though Yi-tan wore a somber expression of concern, the faint shadow of contempt Myeong-joo imagined in his eyes gouged mercilessly into his heart. Opening his mouth to offer more excuses, Myeong-joo could only close it again in silence.

Exhaling a soft breath, the officer spoke in a measured cadence. “I was the first to find you lying in the flower bed after you collapsed. No one else knows. You need not worry.”

The reassurance only made Myeong-joo’s throat tighten. Shaking his head, he blurted out frantically, “That is not what I mean… I never did anything disgraceful! You must believe me, Yi-tan…”

In his panic, Myeong-joo had not even realized he called Yi-tan by his given name without rank or title. The young officer merely watched him with quiet, searching eyes.

“Such things do not matter,” Yi-tan said with gentle firmness. “I do not mind in the least, so you need not fret over it any longer, Instructor.”

“What does that mean…?”

His chin quivered. He lacked the composure to discern whether being told it didn’t matter was meant as comfort or an insult far deeper than any blade. Not knowing what to say, he merely parted his lips in silence, unaware of the desolate, tearful grimace on his face.

“…Let us return first,” Yi-tan said gently. “People must be searching for you.”

Myeong-joo could find no words. “…”

Yi-tan took Myeong-joo by the waist and lifted him to his feet as if handling a fragile child. Kneeling before him, he brushed the dirt and dried leaves from his trousers. Standing dazedly, Myeong-joo endured the touch of an Aberrant who could never quite gauge his own strength; each time the vigorous brushing threatened to knock him off balance, Yi-tan’s sturdy grip steadied him so he wouldn’t fall.

Seeing him sway, Yi-tan took Myeong-joo’s hand and rested it on his own shoulder. The contact sent a faint tremor through Myeong-joo’s fingertips.

After that, Yi-tan said nothing, focusing solely on tidying the fabric of the trousers. Looking down at the neat crown of his head, Myeong-joo endured the delicate silence until he finally found his voice.

“I… starting today, I truly intended to live without bringing shame upon you,” Myeong-joo whispered. “I meant to try with everything I had.”

Those words were the honest truth. Having been pushed into becoming his partner, his conscience—elbowed aside by his secret longing—had screamed that he must at least achieve this one thing, and Myeong-joo had listened to that painful plea. He had resolved to live and die as a Harmonizer worthy of Yi-tan.

Yet for such a disaster to strike! What that demonic fiend was, or what had truly transpired, he had no capacity to analyze. In this moment, Myeong-joo was nothing more than a pathetic man struggling desperately not to leave his secretly cherished love with the impression that he led a sordid, depraved private life.

“Please believe me, Yi-tan,” Myeong-joo pleaded.

It was almost a prayer. He felt that securing Yi-tan’s faith was far more urgent than recounting the appearance of a monster or explaining what had occurred. Myeong-joo was desperate; if only out of pity for Yi-tan, who was saddled with such a disheveled partner, he had to clear himself.

An eternity passed in a heartbeat.

Yi-tan lifted his head. Dusting off his knees, he looked up into Myeong-joo’s eyes, took his hand, gave it a firm squeeze, and gently blew the stray brick dust from the back of his fingers.

“It was the work of that demonic fiend.”

“…Excuse me?” Myeong-joo asked, taken aback.

Struggling to comprehend, Myeong-joo knitted his brows. Yi-tan rose to his feet in silence, once again commanding the height advantage, just as he always had except during his early cadet days. With the sun at his back, Yi-tan’s expression was difficult to decipher.

Myeong-joo blinked slowly. Was Yi-tan actually believing my claim?

Soon, Yi-tan spoke in a low, contemplative rumble. “That demonic fiend must have swallowed your harmonization, Instructor, and done this in its frenzy.”

“Ugh…”

He spoke with the absolute certainty of an eyewitness. When Yi-tan reached out and pressed firmly against the soiled fabric of his shirt, Myeong-joo startled and tried to pull back, but failed. Yi-tan’s arm had already wound around his waist, holding him fast.

“Forgive the presumption, Instructor,” Yi-tan whispered into his ear, “but you carry a scent that those disgusting creatures would find irresistible.”

“What do you mean by that?” Myeong-joo asked in bewilderment.

Drawn so tightly against him that their hips pressed together without a hair’s breadth of space, Myeong-joo had no room to decipher Yi-tan’s words. As their lower bodies rubbed together, heat surged into Myeong-joo’s cheeks. He felt with sudden clarity the physical maturity of the cadet who had once been so young, and instantly despised himself for noticing.

“Get away, please! You will get that filth all over you…!”

Panicking that the fluid on his shirt would smear onto Yi-tan’s immaculate suit, Myeong-joo gripped Yi-tan’s forearms to push him back, but a sudden prickle of heat made him yank his fingers away. As their bodies drew even closer in that split second, he shoved at Yi-tan’s chest instead, only to recoil in shock and raise both hands in surrender.

Watching Myeong-joo’s face flush so deeply it seemed ready to steam, Yi-tan clicked his tongue in the stern tone one might use with a child struggling to pay attention. “I am issuing a warning right now.”

“I understand! I get it, so please, step back first!”

He had to extricate himself from this embrace. If they remained like this, the friction against Yi-tan’s groin would trigger an untimely reaction from his own body. If he became aroused while pressed against him, he would be branded a shameless lecher who couldn’t control himself even on his wedding day. Feeling the solid, heavy pressure resting against his lower abdomen, Myeong-joo’s face drained pale before flushing a blazing crimson once more.

Yi-tan looked down at him with an inscrutable gaze. “Incidents like this may happen again in the future.”

“Wh-what did you say?”

Though he knew he sounded like an utter fool, his confusion was too overwhelming to manage. Scrutinizing every flicker of expression on Myeong-joo’s face, Yi-tan finally released him.

Once separated from his warmth, the chill of the outdoor air felt biting. Only then did a breath of relief expand within Myeong-joo like dried seaweed soaking in water.

Clicking his tongue once more, Yi-tan added quietly, “It is fortunate our wedding night is tonight.”

Myeong-joo could only blink in stunned silence. “…”

“If we coat you in my scent, it should keep them at bay.”

Having only just felt relief at putting physical distance between them, Myeong-joo could not comprehend what he had just heard, blinking dumbly. Taking the wrist of the older man—who was staring with wide eyes like an ox struck by a flyswatter—Yi-tan gently tugged him forward.

“Come, let us go, Instructor,” Yi-tan urged. “We have an immense amount of business to attend to today.”

“But…”

Yi-tan turned back with a warm smile. “Hurry now.”

With a dazed mind, Myeong-joo took slow steps alongside him. Peering up at Yi-tan, he noticed the second lieutenant was wearing a faint smirk—like a man struggling to hide his delight.

***