As expected, when Hunter attacked Federico, a variable occurred. When Michael encountered him as he was fleeing, he promised not to disclose his identity in exchange for learning how to stop dreaming.
“Maria loved Hyungoh, and she cherished him, so there will definitely be useful clues from him.”
Hunter was convinced that Maria knew the method. Surely, if they dug into Hyungoh’s past memories, they would also discover that method.
Did Maria really know that method? No, did such a method truly exist at all?
Although he didn’t have high expectations, Michael decided to use Hunter anyway. After all, his goal was to find out from Hyungoh how Maria had met her end.
“How is Choi these days?”
“Same as usual. Oh, he’s recently become obsessed with chess.”
It wasn’t that Michael was unaware of his situation due to occasionally appearing in dreams, but hearing about him indirectly in reality touched his heart more.
Before long, Federico, who had been severely weakened by Hunter’s surprise attack, became increasingly reliant on Michael, making it easier for him to build power. Since it would be advantageous to have strength when he eventually brought Hyungoh over, and although he had no interest in troublesome power struggles, he needed to establish a position within the Gostin organization.
Occasionally, some executives would go against his wishes, but with just a few words that could become their weakness, they would quickly hide their tails.
As he used his abilities to survive, followers began to gather. Among them, those like Jake were the worst of the worst.
“Only you can understand me!”
These crazed lambs displayed a twisted faith, to the extent that they would be more distressed by Michael getting a paper cut than being shot themselves. However, no matter how bizarre their fuss was, he had long since grown accustomed to it after adapting to Herick.
If anything had improved, it was that Herick had come to his senses after seeing them and had stopped praising him.
Thus came the moment of reunion after waiting for 11 years. Michael no longer wanted to live apart from Hyungoh. Even if being together posed dangers, couldn’t he just protect him?
However, as if mocking that simple thought, an incident occurred not long after.
As soon as they brought Hyungoh into the Gostin mansion, unpleasant nightmares began knocking on the door of his unconscious one after another, as if they had been waiting. Falling down stairs to his death, dying while trying to escape the mansion, dying after getting into an argument with an organization member, dying when a perfectly fine chandelier fell on him.
Hyungoh kept dying endlessly. At this point, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that everything in this world was trying to kill him.
Among hundreds or thousands of possibilities, Michael searched for a solution again and again. But after struggling through big and small deaths for days, he finally had to realize that there was no best choice among them.
So he had to make the second-worst choice.
Reluctantly, Michael neglected Hyungoh moderately and encouraged discord with Jake. At least Jake wouldn’t try to kill Hyungoh without reason. Even calling Hyungoh every evening was intended to make Jake jealous.
For the time being, he wouldn’t dream of Hyungoh dying.
It was a satisfaction he hadn’t felt in a long time. He was no longer a child dragged around by dreams. Thanks to Hyungoh, he had been able to grow both physically and mentally, and now he had the power to use his ability.
No, he thought he had it.
Was it because he was uncharacteristically enthusiastic, or because he had underestimated his own ability?
He dreamed as usual. That dream was like a cold warning to the arrogant.
“Why did you call me back?”
Hyungoh, precariously seated on a railing, opened his mouth. His appearance was eerily similar to Maria’s.
“We could have ended our ill-fated relationship 11 years ago.”
Michael couldn’t focus on what he was saying at all. Remembering Maria’s demise made him increasingly anxious.
“Why am I having this dream? Didn’t Hyungoh avoid death because of my choice?”
In his confusion, his lips moved but no sound came out. Just as he was piecing together fragmented words, Hyungoh vanished into the violently flowing river in the blink of an eye.
The endlessly rising water threatened to engulf the entire world.
* * *
Michael, waking from sleep, let out a hollow laugh. Back to square one. It was the moment all his efforts had turned to foam.
No matter how much he struggled, he couldn’t prevent Hyungoh’s death.
Is it fate? Michael clutched his aching chest. He resented himself for being helpless in the face of destiny, and above all, he resented Hyungoh for choosing death alone, leaving him behind.
“I wish Choi were like me.”
After dealing with Jake, whose harassment had intensified, he went to find Hyungoh. The first thing Hyungoh did was worry about his self-inflicted wounds. It felt both good and unbearably sad.
“Worry about me more, pity me. Please don’t leave my side.”
He was exhausted to his limit. It had been three days since he’d skipped sleep because he didn’t want to have nightmares anymore. As his mind grew foggy, the sensation around his wound areas became increasingly dull. Although he tried hard to stay awake, fearing he wouldn’t be able to protect Hyungoh if he closed his heavy eyes, he couldn’t prevent his consciousness from fading.
With that one moment of carelessness, he lost Hyungoh.
He slowly tilted his head at the stream of tears flowing down his cheeks. Ironically, perhaps because it was something he’d experienced many times, he wasn’t sad. Then what was the meaning of these tears?
Once the tears started, they showed no signs of stopping. His rapidly beating heart even ached as if someone was squeezing it tightly.
“Dream……”
Michael murmured alone in the room. By now, he even felt like he was being toyed with. It was as if something was mocking him, saying, “You can’t change anything. So struggle more, along with your pathetic efforts.”
Bang.
Cracks resembling tree roots spread across the glass covering the desk. Still clutching his throbbing chest, he defined the piercing emotion.
This was clearly anger directed at the dream itself.
