“There is no ‘other truth.’ There are no ‘infinite realities’ either. The only truth and reality is that Herick didn’t kill them.”
Hyungoh recalled what he had said to Herick 11 years ago. It was a moment when he finally understood Herick’s beliefs that had seemed so strange back then.
But it’s really amazing, parallel worlds. So such things really do exist. Hyungoh absently stroked Michael’s back as he slept soundly, using Hyungoh’s chest as a pillow. Being pinned under that large frame made breathing a bit uncomfortable, but it was still bearable.
Hyungoh-ya.
Someone called his name. It was a familiar voice, but his body still tensed up despite his best efforts.
Hyungoh-ya, let’s play.
As he exhaled softly and turned his head, he saw a pure white dress with purple wine stains fluttering gently beside the firmly closed door.
“…Mother.”
She smiled brightly. It was a completely innocent smile, like a child wanting to play a game.
“I’ll enjoy life to the fullest, for your share too, Mother.”
He whispered softly while reaching his hand into empty air, carefully keeping his breathing even so as not to wake Michael.
Maria approached with delicate steps and reached out as if to hold his hand, but then scattered like dust in all directions.
Hyungoh, who had been touching the empty air, soon wore a faint smile. It was the first time he had ever responded to her auditory hallucination.
It seemed like just yesterday when he had tried to avoid the hallucinations, whether he heard them or not. A bitter sensation lingered at the corners of his mouth. He fidgeted with his hand that had lost its destination, then caressed Michael’s hand that was draped over the edge of the bed. The warmth he had longed for so much transmitted through his thin skin.
“It’s time for dinner!”
Suddenly, Isabella burst through the door. She was smiling brightly, perhaps excited to meet outsiders after a long time. Hyungoh, with his eyes sparkling, faced her puzzled, tilting head with a stiff expression.
“Are you hot?”
Isabella pointed at Hyungoh’s body with her finger.
“Huh, what?”
“Why are you nake—”
Lucas, who had followed her, quickly assessed the situation and covered Isabella’s eyes. His eyes, meeting Hyungoh’s, darted around, unable to find their bearings.
As the door closed silently, Hyungoh’s face gradually turned red. He slightly lifted the blanket, confirmed that he was completely naked, and immediately covered himself again. It was the moment when his temporarily absent reason and sense of reality returned.
* * *
“What? Are you joking with me? How could he have escaped already when he’s only been locked up for such a short time!”
The colleagues who were with David stamped out the cigarettes they had been smoking with their dress shoes at his shout. Those who had been enjoying a brief moment of rest on the terrace had to move with precision and coordination.
His hair, carefully slicked back with mousse, became roughly tousled. He had thought his future would be smooth sailing after arresting the mafia boss, but now he’d disappeared without a trace right after being imprisoned?
The criminal had been under heavy security due to his high profile, yet he had successfully escaped in less than a week. It was nothing short of an emergency.
“This doesn’t make sense. How could an ailing old man…!”
Ah. David’s face crumpled at the sudden hypothesis. Was there a Gostin spy within the police?
The mysterious hotel terror incident in Washington two days ago—could it be related to this? They said an Asian person of interest disappeared after the incident. Feeling like an invisible hand was tightening around his neck, he irritably loosened his tie.
The nephew of Hunter Kim, a Gostin executive, and a man who seemed to have connections with Theodore Cooper, an executive of Cenaline. What was his name again, Choi?
After hanging up the phone, David struggled to maintain his composure. He walked past colleagues who were busy watching his reactions, heading toward his monitor, when his phone rang again. What now? His face wrinkled before he even answered, but he quickly composed himself after seeing the name on the screen.
“Ah, yes. Mr. Scofield.”
[I’ve arrived at the lobby. Where should I wait?]
“…Ah.”
Damn it. They were supposed to meet for lunch. Hurriedly using the black monitor screen as a mirror, he fixed his disheveled hair and neatly tied his tie.
“I’ll come down right away.”
Even as he rode the elevator down, he was at a loss for how to convey this news. Given the significant cooperation they had received, he felt quite embarrassed. And of course, there was no room for excuses since the escape was largely due to the carelessness of the agents.
“It’s been a while, Taylor.”
He offered his hand first to Taylor, who appeared wearing a trench coat. As expected, Taylor’s previously kind smile turned cold after hearing the whole story. He must be perplexed by this unexpected variable.
“So, it’s impossible to track his current location?”
“…Yes, since there’s no mention of CCTV records, it seems like there’s no substantial evidence. It appears he used blind spots.”
“Blind spots? Haha.”
This is ridiculous. His smile, which suggested disbelief, sank into a frigid expression.
“The FBI is racking its brains over mere blind spots?”
David could only close his mouth in the face of those eyes, which were coldly seething. Being such a meticulous person, Taylor seemed to have noticed that there was a spy within.
“How disappointing.”
He had been distrustful before, but he never imagined they would be this sloppy. Taylor was sick and tired of the collusion between police and criminals.
If they had done their jobs properly, people like you wouldn’t have emerged.
That’s what he had said to Hunter 11 years ago. Indeed, they were all untrustworthy folk. As Taylor was suppressing his irritation, he suddenly formed an unsettling hypothesis. Wait, if Federico has escaped now…
“…Hunter.”
“Excuse me?”
Federico has always had just one target. As Taylor hurriedly moved, David, sensing something suspicious, followed.
Damn it. Taylor muttered a small curse and then said,
“Hunter is in danger.”
