Chapter 5
Hyungoh glared at his laptop on the bed. The edges had yellowed with age, but it still held his warmth.
Theo. Theodore Cooper.
Hyungoh’s mind went back to Theo, who’d abandoned him and escaped alone through the window. Traitor. He clenched his fist. In the end, Hyungoh had been forced to face Hunter awkwardly while scrambling to grab his laptop before retreating to his room.
If Hunter had yelled at him, it wouldn’t have felt this uncomfortable. But he hadn’t. He’d only told the timid, approaching Hyungoh in an indifferent voice to go to his room and wait.
He must be angry. He’s definitely angry. This is completely my fault. Hyungoh crawled onto the bed clumsily. I rushed it. I tried to investigate too quickly because of my suspicions, and look what happened. While absentmindedly stroking his laptop with unfocused eyes, he suddenly noticed the USB still plugged in.
I brought this with me. As Hyungoh pulled out the USB and turned it over in his fingers, a knock at the door startled him. He hurriedly shoved it into his pants pocket.
“Good afternoon.”
“I’m sorry.”
Hyungoh apologized immediately. His hand clutched the USB inside his pocket. Hunter watched Hyungoh’s awkward smile in silence, then smiled back.
“So, how was your exploration of my study?”
“…”
“Haha.”
I’m digging my own grave. To think he’d already earned the dislike of the person who was supposed to be his guardian. As Hyungoh kept his head bowed, Hunter pulled up a chair and sat in front of him.
“Where’d all that boldness go—the one you had when you walked into my room?”
“…I’m really sorry.”
“Honestly, I was a bit surprised.”
Yeah. You must’ve been. Seeing that scene. Hyungoh recalled Hunter’s expression when he’d last seen him in the study. His face naturally flushed with embarrassment and shame.
“I thought you were just some naive kid.”
Hunter murmured softly, brushing his finger across his lips. Contrary to expectations, this might be quite interesting. When Hunter’s voice dropped too low to hear, Hyungoh leaned forward, tilting his ear.
“So, how did you crack it?”
“Pardon?”
“The USB file lock.”
“Ah.”
The lock? Hyungoh’s neck went stiff. I probably shouldn’t admit I hacked it. But he couldn’t think of any excuse. Hunter’s eyes sparkled with interest as he watched Hyungoh avoid his gaze and stay silent.
“Are you perhaps—”
Take me to church, I’ll worship like a dog—
Hunter, who’d been reaching toward Hyungoh, paused at the sound of his phone ringing. Hyungoh looked curiously at Hunter, who was quietly listening to the melancholic ringtone breaking the silence. What kind of call would make his expression that serious?
“Yes. What’s the matter?”
After a moment’s hesitation, Hunter finally answered. Hyungoh, drawn to the dark atmosphere emanating from him, kept quiet. After that, Hunter stayed silent. He gently closed his eyes, then slowly opened them, as if he’d been expecting whatever news was coming from the other end.
“Did something happen?”
Hyungoh asked casually after Hunter ended the call. Hunter made a short sound, then suddenly stared at him. Why, why are you looking at me like that? Hyungoh pulled back, unnecessarily scratching his head.
“Hyungoh.”
“Yes.”
“You wouldn’t want to go back to Korea, would you?”
“What?”
Hunter smiled and waved his hand at the startled Hyungoh, then continued.
“What I mean is, would you be willing to keep living here in the future?”
For quite a long time. Perhaps for life, Hunter added.
“Well, I guess? I don’t have anywhere else to go anyway.”
“So you’re saying you’ll stay here even after you’re an adult.”
“I… guess so?”
I don’t really want to go through the trouble of leaving for somewhere else. Hyungoh nodded.
“Then you can’t just do nothing until you’re an adult, right?”
“Of course not.”
“You’ll need money for the future too.”
“…Uncle, what are you getting at?”
Hyungoh asked directly. In his straightforward gaze, Hunter’s face was reflected with a faint smile.
“As it happens, I have a good job opportunity for you.”
***
Hyungoh visited Michael’s house again. It was still a cold, desolate mansion. How to put it—it was like a dollhouse meant for just one person. With an eerie feeling, Hyungoh hesitated before knocking.
“Welcome.”
The door suddenly opened from inside, as if someone had known he was there. A woman in a black suit looked Hyungoh up and down, then gave a slight nod. Hyungoh swallowed at her chilly expression. She truly matched the atmosphere of the house.
To think his first-ever paying job would be babysitting. And a male peer only two years younger, at that. When he’d asked Hunter about the somewhat perplexing proposal, Hunter had replied with a pitying expression.
‘He’s a child with emotional deprivation. He needs someone by his side.’
He’d said it couldn’t be helped because the person who’d been taking care of Michael before had an accident. Given that he hadn’t mentioned parents, there seemed to be a complicated family situation. Hunter had smiled kindly, saying that since Hyungoh was about the same age, they could become good friends. He hadn’t even scolded Hyungoh for entering his study without permission. Doesn’t he care? Hyungoh wondered as he followed the woman in the black suit.
“It’s here.”
She pointed to a door in the corner of a vast corridor. When Hyungoh looked at her, she smiled with a dispassionate expression. It was clearly fake. Go in. At her words, Hyungoh turned the doorknob. Pitch-black darkness showed itself through the crack.
“I told you not to come in.”
Michael, lying on the bed, muttered. Curled up into a small ball, he looked as cute as a grumpy child. After smiling like a father, Hyungoh cleared his throat and said softly.
“Hello, Michael.”
Michael, who’d been wriggling and rubbing his face against the bed, paused. He seemed surprised by the unexpected, unfamiliar voice.
At that moment, the woman abruptly closed the door. With a bang, everything went black. The room, without a hint of sunlight, was dark. As the surprised Hyungoh tried to open the door again, he felt something tugging at the edge of his clothes.
“Michael?”
“Choi.”
Hyungoh fumbled for the light switch. As the view brightened, he blinked. Michael, who’d approached without warning, was staring up at him.
“…Oh.”
Hyungoh let out a short breath. Wow, he’s really, genuinely beautiful. His gaze moved to Michael’s eyes. He was someone whose appearance made it impossible to look away. How can he look so much like a doll? Hyungoh studied Michael’s face carefully, as if savoring it.
“Hunter is foolish.”
“Huh?”
“Choi, do you believe in God?”
Michael asked. At the somewhat abrupt question, Hyungoh closed his mouth, unable to respond. God? He scratched his head unnecessarily. Why suddenly bring up God?
“Well, I’m an atheist.”
“Even atheists believe in God. It’s just that the object isn’t conventional.”
What’s he talking about? As Hyungoh stared blankly at Michael, who was answering seriously, he suddenly recalled what Hunter had told him.
‘That kid will say a lot of strange things. When he does, don’t be taken aback—just go along with it. Think of it as a kind of game.’
So this was what Hunter meant by strange talk. Glancing at Michael, he was waiting for Hyungoh’s response with his lips pressed together. What a weird kid. Each of his peculiar words didn’t seem particularly malicious, but rather like questions filled with the innocent curiosity of a child who hadn’t yet discovered the thick, ugly stains of the world.
“But why are you asking things like this?”
“Because I’m curious.”
Michael smiled gently.
“Choi is like an egg.”
“…Um, is that a compliment?”
“I don’t know yet either.”
Sigh. Hyungoh bent his knees to face Michael. He was truly small and delicate compared to others his age. Do I look like an egg? Wait, he’s not saying I look like an egg ghost, right? Hyungoh, who’d been touching his own face, suddenly asked Michael.
“So do you believe in God?”
“Yes.”
“Ah, I guess so. Your name is Michael, after all.”
“No, not like that.”
Michael shook his head. Hyungoh’s bent legs were starting to go numb. “Haha, just a moment.” As he smiled at Michael and tried to stand up subtly, Michael roughly grabbed his shoulder and pressed Hyungoh firmly to the ground.
“Ah…”
At the sudden action, Hyungoh helplessly fell to his knees with a thud. His knees stung after being pressed against the hard marble tiles. Hyungoh, who shed a small tear, raised his head to glare at Michael but froze.
Michael was quietly looking down at him as if he were inferior. His expression, now cold, looked practiced—as if this was normal behavior. As Hyungoh stared back silently, speechless at Michael’s bizarre behavior, Michael whispered in a low voice.
“I don’t believe in other things. Because I am God.”
