After an hour-long, impassioned lecture, everyone except Sa-yoon was sprawled out, completely drained. Jaehee, the very person whose question had started it all, looked half-dead. Considering he’d been forced to listen to the entire lecture while being held by the shoulders and shaken back and forth, it was no wonder his soul looked like it had left his body. Gyeongjin massaged his ears, groaning in pain.

“I thought we wouldn’t have to listen to it this time since Jongsik-hyungnim isn’t here.”

Gyeongjin, who was usually forced to endure this lecture once every three months under the justification of joint responsibility thanks to Jongsik, the Night Rats Guild’s officially recognized scrooge, had been one of the most thrilled to learn that Jongsik couldn’t join them on this trip due to scheduling conflicts. The main reason for his joy was not having to sit through this god-awful lecture. As he grumbled about losing this perk, Sa-yoon rose from his seat. Unlike the others, who looked haggard, he alone looked refreshed.

He felt completely relieved after venting his frustrations and handing over the Association President’s credit card, telling them to spend as much as they wanted. He would rather die than see his guild members act shabby anywhere. As high-ranking executives of a small, elite guild, they should act like kings wherever they go.

Even if they are not the most outstanding, they must appear to be so on the outside. Having instilled in them the true value of the proverb, “In a valley with no tigers, a rabbit acts as king,” Sa-yoon brushed the dust from his clothes and spoke nonchalantly.

“What are you doing? Get up. We’re starting the investigation today.”

“…Today?”

“Of course today. It’s the middle of the day, what else would we do? Play around and do nothing?”

“……”

Sa-yoon’s gaze turned sharp. Gyeongjin swallowed a groan and muttered that it was ridiculous, then squeezed his eyes shut as if to deny reality.

“I’m going to die from overwork with a workaholic for a boss.”

“If you have a complaint, you’re welcome to leave that thing on your neck behind and rest for the rest of your life.”

“…You crazy guild master.”

By now, that level of insult was practically a term of endearment. Sa-yoon casually brushed off the remark, which felt like the second time he’d heard it that day, and decided on the teams for the first investigation.

“You’re with me.”

An outstretched hand snatched the nape of Geon-joo’s neck. Geon-joo, who had been lounging with a slightly more docile expression, was pulled along without a word of complaint.

“You three are a team.”

He addressed the remaining three with a simple and clear command. Gyeongjin’s expression brightened considerably. He seemed incredibly pleased not to be going with Sa-yoon.

How is he going to get by if he can’t hide his expressions like that?

He wasn’t like this when they first met, but the kid had gotten more and more unrestrained over time. For now, Sa-yoon was the one putting up with him, so he was letting it slide, but if he went somewhere else and disrespected his boss like that, his head would have been chopped off a hundred times over.

He was such a quiet one at first.

A crease formed between Sa-yoon’s brows as he realized that everyone who met him seemed to change like that.

Is it my problem?

The thought struck him suddenly. It was the closest he’d come to the root of the issue in a decade, but Sa-yoon dismissed it as a useless thought and changed the subject.

“Everyone head out and come back on your own when it’s appropriate. If you hear any rumors about Scorpion, either record them or write them down. If you find any decent information, I’ll let you have tomorrow morning off.”

“Wait, isn’t it a given that we get the morning off the day after we arrive?”

“You want to work in the morning too?”

“…We’ll be back.”

He was quick to tuck his tail. The title of Night Rats Guild executive was not for show. With a single remark, Sa-yoon dispatched the whining Gyeongjin and then turned to Geon-joo, who was blinking blankly.

“Where are we going?”

At the now-familiar question, a grin spread across Sa-yoon’s lips. His eyes curved gently, and a smile formed on his red lips. Just as Geon-joo’s breathing grew faint, Sa-yoon answered confidently.

“Somewhere nice.”

The simple yet clear statement made Geon-joo’s face harden.

“A gate?”

“……”

“Ugh, seriously. Did you really want to go to a place like that, even after coming all this way?”

He took Sa-yoon’s silence as an affirmation and got angry. Seeing him now spout the word ‘gate’ as a reflex, Sa-yoon felt he needed to take a moment to think about where things had gone wrong.

Gyeongjin’s group headed west first. In contrast to how he had just been grilling his guild members, Sa-yoon now led Geon-joo east with a leisurely attitude. It was a street close to the main downtown area.

He was walking with the intention of stopping by a bank to check the balance of his U.S. account when Geon-joo kept looking around with fascination. Although he was trying to act as if he were cautiously searching for something, Sa-yoon could tell that it was closer to sightseeing. Every time he glanced over, he was met with a face full of curiosity.

It’ll be fun to take him around.

His fresh reactions were amusing to watch. It was just as he was thinking how clearly it showed his youth that a voice that gently enveloped his ears made Sa-yoon’s eyes turn. Slowly. His steps, which had been strolling along like a grasshopper,² came to an abrupt halt, as if nailed to the spot.

“……”

His dry lips parted and closed repeatedly. Geon-joo, noticing Sa-yoon’s strange behavior, stopped walking as well.

“What’s wrong?”

Even when he felt a tug on his forearm, Sa-yoon didn’t turn his gaze toward Geon-joo. Normally, the pull would have been more than enough to turn his head, but he remained staring at one spot as if bewitched. Curious and slightly annoyed, Geon-joo followed Sa-yoon’s line of sight. A moment later, his hand, which had been holding Sa-yoon’s arm, fell limply to his side.

Their gazes were directed at a café with a clean, white-themed terrace. On that terrace, a child was chatting with his parents. His gentle voice wasn’t very loud, but it captivated their senses so intensely it was as if all the other passersby had been erased, leaving only the child.

He might have been thirteen or fourteen. He was quite tall, but considering that Western children grow quickly, that seemed about right. He was much bigger than the child they remembered.

That fact told them that the boy before them was different from the boy in their memory, yet for some reason, they couldn’t tear their eyes away.

Because it felt as if that child would have looked exactly like that if he had grown up.

Blond hair and light blue eyes.

While blue eyes weren’t a common color, they could occasionally be seen in the Anglo-American world. Blond hair was more than plentiful. And so, the gazes of the two men lingered for a long time on a boy they just happened to encounter.

“…Let’s go.”

After a long while, it was Sa-yoon who spoke first. By then, the boy and his family were preparing to leave the café. Sa-yoon forcefully tore his gaze away, which kept trying to turn back, and started walking. An awkward silence flowed between the two, who had been engaged in idle chatter just moments before. Sa-yoon closed his eyes and took a breath.

He’s beautiful.

The words he couldn’t say out loud just swirled on his tongue.

He would have grown up to be even more beautiful.

That lingering attachment was an illusion. Knowing this, he was trying to collect himself when someone touched his fingertips. He had experienced it so often now that he knew who it was without asking.

“I made a grave.”

“……?”

What grave, all of a sudden?

As Sa-yoon blinked, Geon-joo continued calmly.

“Noah’s grave. The things inside it will disappear someday, you know. So, I made one outside. On the very day I left the tower.”

“……”

“There’s no photo and no body, so it doesn’t really look much like a grave, to be honest…”

His voice trailed off as he took Sa-yoon’s hand.

“Do you want to go see it together later?”

It was a cautious question. Since that day, neither of them had brought up Noah first. They had consciously avoided it, but now, for the first time, the boy was mentioned.

Sa-yoon felt a strange sensation, a hot and stuffy feeling in the back of his throat. He pushed a breath into his warming mouth.

It would be a lie to say he hadn’t thought of the child while being part of a group named Noah. No, perhaps he hadn’t refused to join the group the Association wanted to create because its name was Noah. He had liked the feeling of being connected to that name.

Sa-yoon had wanted to build a grave too. He had thought about it.

But he couldn’t do it, because he had seen too many times what becomes of lingering attachment and affection.

Yet now, the story of Noah, and the story of his grave, had come from Han Geon-joo of all people. He had thought it would be uncomfortable and awkward if the day ever came when he would talk about the child with him again, but apart from a slight breathlessness, he felt no discomfort at all. After a moment of hesitation, he replied, “Okay.” Geon-joo didn’t answer, just stared straight ahead.

It felt as if the end of a horribly tangled skein of yarn had rolled over and come loose. Sa-yoon was staring blankly at their joined hands when it happened.

Thump!

Someone bumped into Sa-yoon hard and passed by. Sa-yoon, who had relaxed his guard, momentarily stumbled. Geon-joo caught him.

Fuck.

Feeling a strange lightness in his pocket, Sa-yoon immediately shot his head up, his eyes sharp. The person who had bumped into him was already running far away, but by Sa-yoon’s standards, it wasn’t too far to catch him.

A vicious smile spread across his lips.

“You wait here for a second.”

Sa-yoon let go of Geon-joo’s hand, tapped the ground a couple of times with his dress shoes to loosen his ankles, and then kicked off the ground. He shot forward in an instant, leaving Geon-joo blinking in his wake.

“…Ugh, seriously.”

A small, frustrated voice escaped his lips.