When the owner slid open the lattice door, a room of roughly fifteen square meters was revealed. Behind it, a glass storm window reflected the view of the garden. In the center, a low wooden table and floor chairs were arranged neatly.
“We’ll bring the food out as soon as it’s ready.”
The owner withdrew, leaving Siyun and Gyohyun alone in the inner room.
“…….”
Siyun’s expression was still stiff. Gyohyun spoke to Siyun, who was standing there blankly.
“Sit down.”
But Siyun couldn’t bring himself to do that. Knowing there was some scheme at play, how could he just drop down and sit?
“…….”
When Siyun showed no signs of letting his guard down, Gyohyun let out a short, humorless laugh and shook his head.
“Anyone watching would think I was trying to eat you alive.”
Siyun said nothing, only pressed his lips tightly together.
Gyohyun slowly ran a hand over his mouth with a look of exasperation. Good grief. He found it oddly refreshing, the way Siyun reacted to every single thing he said.
“You’re the one behind what happened this time. Aren’t you, Lee Gyohyun.”
Truthfully, he didn’t even need an answer. And yet Siyun had no choice but to press him relentlessly — not simply to confirm the facts, but because he wanted to know why this man had gone that far.
“Hm? Ah — Kim Jinwoong?”
Gyohyun looked at Siyun without any particular change in expression, then gave a short nod as though it were nothing of consequence.
“Yes. I filed the report.”
It was a more resolute and forthcoming answer than expected. Siyun went blank for a moment. His lips opened and closed repeatedly. And only after a long pause did he manage to push out a single word.
“…Why on earth….”
His voice cracked, and before he could finish the question, his breath caught in his throat.
Siyun squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them. He wanted to demand what on earth Gyohyun had been thinking and why he had done it — but right now, there was something more urgent than that.
“…Nothing more is going to happen, right?”
Siyun’s gaze fixed on Gyohyun. But the man’s eyes remained as cold and unreadable as ever.
“I’m asking whether Jinwoong’s situation is fully resolved now.”
The police officers who hadn’t budged an inch at anything Siyun said had snapped to attention the moment Gyohyun made one call. Siyun felt the difference in their power acutely, down to his bones.
“Lee Gyohyun, please just answer me….”
“Food coming in.”
The lattice door slid open and a staff member entered.
The staff member who came in asked Siyun, still standing there blankly, whether he needed anything.
“Oh, no.”
Siyun realized he had been standing there vacantly the whole time.
He took his seat belatedly. In the meantime, the staff member lifted the dishes from the tray one by one and arranged them on the table.
First came a white porcelain teapot and teacups. Steam rose from the teapot and a subtle fragrance of tea drifted through the air. Next, small brass bowls arranged on a round tray were brought in one after another.
On a red lacquer brass plate, thinly sliced abalone with vinegar dressing was served, and beside it, a cold dish of white kimchi rolls filled with salmon and radish sprouts was set down with care. But none of it registered in Siyun’s eyes.
“For the first course today, we’ve prepared chestnut and bean porridge. It will taste even richer and nuttier while it’s still warm.”
The very air inside the room felt heavy. Siyun kept his head down, eyes fixed on the table.
“Thank you. You may go now.”
At Gyohyun’s words, the staff member gave a small bow and withdrew.
“Enjoy your meal.”
Only after confirming the staff member had fully left the room did Siyun continue.
“Eat.”
Gyohyun gestured toward the food. But Siyun shook his head.
“Answer me first. Is it really resolved? Are you saying he won’t be called in again?”
Gyohyun responded to Siyun’s question at an unhurried pace.
The lukewarm attitude only made Siyun’s anxiety worse. He pressed him, his nerves getting the better of him.
“Lee Gyohyun!”
“I don’t understand.”
Dark blue-black eyes fixed on Siyun directly.
Siyun swallowed dryly.
“You nearly died at Kim Jinwoong’s hands. And you’re still worried about him?”
Whether it was from tension or not, his palms kept filling with sweat. Siyun rubbed them against the hem of his trousers.
“B— but in the end, nothing actually happened….”
A baffled laugh scattered at the corners of his mouth.
“…And Jinwoong genuinely regrets it. Something like this won’t ever happen again.”
“Ah, regrets?”
As though he’d made up his mind to drop all pretense of politeness, the man’s lips twisted. Whatever faint trace of a smile had remained vanished entirely at those words.
“Do you even know what state you’re in right now when you say that?”
Gyohyun’s eyes landed on Siyun’s neck.
“……!”
Siyun flinched and brought his hand to his still-aching throat. The cold gaze felt like it was boring into his neck, and his breath snagged in his throat.
“If I had arrived even a little later that day….”
Gyohyun trailed off mid-sentence, his expression hardening. A sharp, chilling light moved through his otherwise impassive eyes.
“You would have died, Siyun.”
Ah, again.
Just like the day he had first shown up at the workshop, a chilling yet weighty force radiated from the man. Siyun’s body trembled faintly. The room that had been filled with warmth turned suddenly cold.
The color drained from his face. His hands and lips began to shake instinctively. Siyun himself couldn’t understand why. He was simply afraid of this man.
“Tch.”
The sound of a tongue click cut through the air. His body flinched without thinking.
Silence followed.
Head hung low, he kept worrying at his lips, when warmth began to return to the room. Siyun slowly let out the breath he had been holding.
“But… you know, don’t you. Lee Gyohyun.”
No matter how much he thought about it, there were too many things that couldn’t be explained if the man wasn’t able to see them.
“That what Jinwoong did wasn’t really Jinwoong.”
It was a gamble. If the man didn’t have Spirit Eyes, he’d think the words were nonsense. If he did, he would understand.
Siyun steadied his breath for a moment and watched Gyohyun carefully. But Gyohyun’s reaction wasn’t what he expected. He stared at Siyun with all trace of a smile completely wiped from his face.
“So even after ending up like that, you’ll go out of your way to take his side?”
Gyohyun’s gaze narrowed slightly. There wasn’t a hint of a smile, let alone any warmth — instead, a cold energy only seeped through all the more thickly.
“What remarkable loyalty.”
Gyohyun answered with a cutting edge. Even the short laugh that escaped him felt sharp and clipped.
Siyun was taken aback. He genuinely couldn’t make sense of the situation.
“Why, why are you suddenly getting ang—”
“I’m not sure. I don’t know why this is grating on me so much.”
The moment the words ended, the air in the room dropped and settled heavily. Siyun stared at Gyohyun with bated breath, but his expression remained cool as ever.
Gyohyun himself didn’t understand this side of himself either. It just grated on him. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly what the problem was, yet his emotions churned and twisted as though wrung out.
The air in the room grew strangely heavy, as if warped. As Siyun’s expression hardened, a faint crease formed between Gyohyun’s brows.
