“First of all, that part… I’m truly sorry. I apologize.”
“……”
However, Park Shinui, with a face completely drained of color, offered a polite apology. Rather than babbling that this was all a low-quality prank or spouting shabby excuses, he wore such an earnest expression that it made the one who’d been ready to sneer feel embarrassed instead.
“Kang Taejun-ssi, I’m begging you. I know you won’t believe my words. But still, couldn’t you give me just a little time?”
Park Shinui looked up at Kang Taejun from his kneeling position and pleaded. Pleading? The actor Park Shinui was someone who earned favor with his appearance but the moment he opened his mouth, fell into disfavor. The worst kind of person who’d openly spouted “love confessions” through the media without ever meeting Kang Taejun once, and from their very first meeting had stripped off his clothes right in front of him. “Pleading” was a word completely unsuited to such a Park Shinui.
Kang Taejun looked down at the pupils shaking with anxiety and the pale skin. In all of it, he felt a sincerity that couldn’t be created through acting and a pitifulness that couldn’t be hidden. Though it made no sense, he even thought that the Park Shinui who’d previously cornered him threateningly using guiding as leverage and the Park Shinui before his eyes now seemed like completely different people. Which was real and which was fake—as the current Kang Taejun, he couldn’t judge.
“Are you truly sincere right now?”
He didn’t want to respond to such crazy talk, but contrary to his thoughts, different words came out. Was it because he’d never spent enough time with Park Shinui to continue a conversation to this extent? Or was the image of the person called Park Shinui that he’d been seeing all this time wrong from the start?
To Kang Taejun’s eyes, which possessed an ability to distinguish people’s lies to some degree, Park Shinui didn’t appear to be lying. Though it was an absurd thought, the claim that he’d lost his memories felt credible. That was even more unpleasant.
“Yes, I’ll find a way quickly, so please wait until then. Okay?”
“……”
Kang Taejun looked at Park Shinui with narrowed brows.
“What do you mean you don’t remember—specifically, what is it that you can’t recall?”
“Park Shinui… that is, I don’t know what kind of person I was before. Nothing comes to mind.”
“You don’t know what kind of person you were…”
Kang Taejun’s gaze overtly swept down Park Shinui. He looked at the white, smooth skin that seemed like it would leave marks at the slightest touch, the body shape refined without excess, the features elegantly positioned. The disheveled hair was so fine it seemed like it would make a rustling sound, and the long eyelashes extending below his gently rounded forehead caught his gaze. When he lowered his eyes past the slender, deer-like nape, he saw the thin chest that looked far removed from exercise. Kang Taejun paused his gaze there for a moment, then immediately frowned.
Pink? How ridiculous. Wasn’t this a body obviously born for that sort of thing? Certainly an impression of completely different quality from the rough scent of the countless combatants he’d faced. Park Shinui had something that stimulated sexual aspects. So naturally he would have lived such a glamorous life.
Unable to endure Kang Taejun’s gaze, Park Shinui hastily pulled the sheet over to cover his naked body. He’d never even imagined another man being conscious of him and covering his body, yet even that motion held his gaze. He knew he should look away. Even knowing that, his eyes wouldn’t move. They lingered around the collarbone visible above the sheet, descended to the finely trembling fingertips, then rose again. Damn guiding effect. Kang Taejun muttered lowly and forcibly withdrew his gaze. He found himself unpleasant for showing such a reaction.
“What kind of person you are—you could easily find out just by searching.”
Kang Taejun bent down to pick up the necktie that had fallen to the floor, tossed out a curt remark, then turned sharply. He didn’t like the situation of having to mix bodies with Park Shinui using guiding as an excuse. Nothing else would more definitively hand over his weakness.
“Uh… why, where—”
“I’m returning to my room.”
Force entered his resolute tone. Kang Taejun moved a few steps toward the door, then stopped his steps savagely.
Until now, I’ve endured even without a guide. The pain that followed day and night, the new pain layered on each time he used his abilities—he’d borne it all alone. Even when pushing his body beyond its limits whenever gates opened, he’d never once allowed himself the luxury of a single guiding session. Still, he’d endured. There was no reason he couldn’t endure going forward either.
But the sensation of guiding he’d clumsily tasted rose up as if wrapping around his entire body anew. Energy that had filled him more abundantly than ceaselessly pouring in the highest-grade recovery medicines. That moment’s sensation when the pain crushing his whole body receded like an ebbing tide—Kang Taejun still remembered it vividly. The guiding he’d felt even briefly had been incomparably fulfilling beyond anything else.
They say guiding is harder to quit than drugs. That single drop of oasis offered to someone dying of thirst, far from quenching their thirst, had created an even greater thirst. However, he had no desire to cling to such things and fall to the level of a mere powerless human. Above all, he hated showing that Park Shinui a desperate appearance more than he could imagine.
Kang Taejun turned his head to look at Park Shinui. Pale face, cheeks where tear stains hadn’t dried, posture curled up while clutching the sheet. From any angle, the current Park Shinui wasn’t that person he’d known.
“I’ll give you two days.”
The voice that flowed out without emotion was excessively stiff. Kang Taejun’s gaze lingered on Park Shinui’s tear-stained face, then moved to his chest, then descended to his lower body wrapped in the sheet. Whatever life Park Shinui had lived, however vulgar he’d been, it doesn’t matter. He was a guide found with difficulty, so shouldn’t he receive what he was due? Above all, whatever scheme that small head was cooking up, he couldn’t just leave him to act arbitrarily using guiding as leverage.
“Within two days, either regain your memories or find a guiding method. I’ll wait until then. But if not, we’ll just proceed according to the contract. Whether you say you’re not Park Shinui or that you’ve lost your memories doesn’t matter. I will receive guiding through whatever means necessary.”
Kang Taejun left those words and exited the room. He didn’t know what choice Park Shinui would make in two days. However, one thing he could be certain of—the Park Shinui before his eyes now didn’t seem like he would return to the appearance he’d known before. And he didn’t seem like someone who would meekly acquiesce to his words no matter what excuse he made. Strangely enough, he felt certain of that.
***
Park Shinui let out what must have been his umpteenth sigh while looking out the window that had brightened completely. Why won’t this dream end already? Where on earth has the original Park Shinui disappeared to?
“……”
From experience, the time difference between dreams and reality wasn’t large. Even when scenes in the novel changed, at least the flow of time was similar. Then by this place’s time, a full day had already passed.
“Haah.”
Though he’d somehow overcome the crisis of the first night, as time passed, Park Shinui’s anxiety grew to the point he couldn’t conceal it. If only I could wake from this dream, all my worries would end… but for now, that possibility seemed far too slim.
“Your meal is prepared.”
Knock, knock—along with the sound of knocking, the butler’s voice was heard. At the same time, a growling sound came from his stomach.
Park Shinui let out an absurd sigh while moving his steps toward the door. To be hungry even though this isn’t reality—what a curious thing.
When he opened the door, the neatly dressed butler scanned Park Shinui dubiously with an expressionless face, then soon nodded his head slightly. It seemed he was pleased that Park Shinui had chosen clothing with less exposure from the wardrobe.
The butler left only the words “Follow me,” then turned sharply and began walking down the corridor. At his attitude that had somehow become even colder than the previous day, Park Shinui scratched the back of his head and followed behind him.
Kang Taejun’s house felt distinctly different when actually facing it compared to what he’d seen in dreams. The space that had previously been perceived only fragmentarily and vaguely now approached him with all elements excessively organic and vivid.
Park Shinui moved his steps while slowly scanning various parts of the house he hadn’t properly appreciated the previous day.
The mansion imbued with stern and restrained beauty was far larger and more magnificent than he’d thought. The marble floors gleamed flawlessly, and the walls were arranged with clean lines and luxurious color tones without excess.
At the center of the ceiling, a black metal chandelier branching into five directions hung majestically, and from the translucent purification stones attached to each end flowed a subtle, calm light. In a word, it was a spectacular sight that would make one’s jaw drop.
Before descending the stairs, Park Shinui shifted his gaze to the large window at the end of the corridor. Beyond the window, a lush green forest dense enough to feel crowded spread endlessly. The vast scale, impossible to gauge where it began or ended, gave an overwhelming feeling just from looking at it.
This is such a wide space, so why can’t I see anyone working here? From the previous day until now, the only person Park Shinui had encountered was a single butler. That elderly gentleman couldn’t possibly be managing this enormous mansion alone, so where on earth was everyone that not even a strand of hair could be seen?
