No matter how anxious the night, morning always comes. To think I’m getting soaked in pointless emotions, fearing something so formless—this is all the fault of that pre-dawn sentimentality. From now on, when dawn approaches, I’ll have to either chop the back of Han Geon-joo’s neck to knock him out or just smack him over the head to put him to sleep. I can put up with it once or twice, but if this happens every time, it’ll be too exhausting to bear.

Sa-yoon, drained from consoling a distraught Geon-joo late into the night, grimaced as he touched his swollen-feeling lips. The sunlight pouring through the window was sharp. He was sure he’d closed the blackout curtains before sleeping, so why was it getting in?

The reason became clear soon enough. His eyes met with a snake slithering down the wall.

Hiss, hiss!

The snake, looking as if it had just been caught, scurried away. He instinctively moved to grab it but stopped when he felt a firm arm wrapped tightly around his waist. He could have pushed it off, but the memory of last night’s Han Geon-joo made it difficult.

After a moment’s thought, Sa-yoon turned over. His gaze fell upon Geon-joo’s sleeping face, stained with the tracks of dried tears.

“He’s a strange one.”

Crying during a kiss was one thing, but waking up to the aftermath wasn’t nearly as pleasant. Sa-yoon spoke in a scolding tone as he recalled the events of the previous night, when Geon-joo had finally broken down in tears. He gently stroked his hair.

It’s my life that’s ruined, not his. So why is he the one crying?

He snorted at the peculiar display of empathy and pinched the man’s nose shut. Deprived of air, Geon-joo’s eyebrows furrowed. Finally, with a soft phu, a pent-up breath escaped his lips. The childish sound made Sa-yoon acutely aware of his age. He chuckled and released his hand.

“How long are you going to sleep?”

“…”

“Han Geon-joo.”

“Nngh.” At the call of his name, a sleepy grumble rumbled in his throat. He shifted away from the sunlight, burrowing deeper into the blankets and pressing closer to Sa-yoon. It became a tangle of limbs, impossible to tell who was holding whom. Sa-yoon willingly accepted the man, who, despite his mountain-like build, was displaying a rather clumsy form of affection, and mulled over their conversation from the night before.

He said that since he took my life, I could have his.

Han Geon-joo’s pointless wallowing was pathetic, but that one sentiment had been gratifying. So much so that he was still humming by morning. The feeling of completely possessing another person was surprisingly pleasant. It felt as if, with every movement of his hand, he could see the invisible leash around Geon-joo’s neck rattle and sway.

If this is the price, then it’s not so bad.

It wasn’t enough to compensate for his past lives, but if the man before him was the price for the life he was about to live, it seemed like a pretty decent deal. After observing the sleeping face a little longer, Sa-yoon moved to get up. But a hand immediately shot out, trapping him again.

The lover clinging to his chest breathed against the nape of his neck. After a few steady breaths, Geon-joo grumbled, seemingly uncomfortable, and buried his forehead in Sa-yoon’s shoulder. With a slight shake of his head, Sa-yoon felt him take a deep breath.

Isn’t this bastard awake?

The timing was suspiciously perfect, and a doubt began to bloom.

“…”

Sa-yoon, who had been shifting, suddenly went still.

Something heavy pressed against his lower back. Sa-yoon took a moment to assess what it might be and let out a choked breath.

…The kid’s healthy, alright.

Right. Healthy was one thing, but still.

“Get up, you punk.”

He at least expected him to go take care of it himself.

Sa-yoon forcefully roused the still-drowsy man and shoved the staggering figure into the bathroom. He added that he should wash up, and the man, his eyes still glazed with sleep, blinked, his long lashes fluttering. When Sa-yoon gestured with his head, his gaze drifted downward.

“Ah.”

A sound that was somewhere between a gasp and a sigh escaped him, and he wiped a hand across his mouth. He cleared his throat, his voice thick with sleep.

“…I was trying to take a deep breath because I felt suffocated.”

“You were trying to take a deep breath, and?”

“And I ended up breathing in too much of your scent, hyung…”

He muttered the excuse, glanced at Sa-yoon, then announced he would wash up and closed the door.

Scent?

Curious, Sa-yoon lifted his arm and sniffed it, only to find his pet snakes slithering over, looking at him as if he were pathetic. Not just one, but three or four of them. He shrieked and shooed them away before stretching his stiff body.

His body felt sluggish. It seemed he needed a quick run while Han Geon-joo was in the shower.

“Where are you going, hyungnim?”

As he reached the lobby, Jongsik, who had been observing the guild members, rushed over. He hadn’t seen him around much lately and thought his separation anxiety had gotten better, but it seemed he had just been busy. When Sa-yoon said he was just heading to a nearby gate, Jongsik’s expression hardened. He abandoned what he was doing, insisted on driving him, and sat in the driver’s seat.

“Why would you go alone? You have me, Jongsik.”

“You’re just using this as an excuse to slack off from work.”

“Was it that obvious?”

He met Sa-yoon’s eyes in the rearview mirror and grinned sheepishly. Sa-yoon kicked the back of the seat, telling him to stop with the nonsense and drive. A strangely nostalgic look crossed Jongsik’s face.

“Does the rank matter?”

“No. I’ll be back before Han Geon-joo is out of the shower, so just take me to the closest one.”

“There’s a C-rank gate four minutes away. Shall we go now?”

“That’s fine.”

He would have preferred a higher-rank gate, but since that was fourteen minutes away, he gave up. The car driven by Jongsik glided smoothly, dropping Sa-yoon off in front of the C-rank gate. It took him exactly ten minutes to clear it and come back out.

“That took longer than I thought.”

Jongsik expertly took the blood-soaked hoodie and packed it into a paper bag.

“I just went to warm up.”

The goal wasn’t to clear the gate but to stretch his limbs, so he had run around as much as possible. Sa-yoon flapped his slightly damp shirt, sat in the back, and kicked the seat again. Jongsik chuckled.

“I missed this while you were gone, hyungnim.”

“Missed what?”

“The kicking. It was lonely without you, the only one who kicks me.”

Sa-yoon’s expression turned strange as he was told that Gyeongjin had also missed having someone to nag, Chan-hee had missed being patted on the head, and Yen had missed having a sparring partner.

Is that a compliment or an insult?

He couldn’t tell if they were saying life was easier without him or that they felt his absence. Coming from Jongsik, it probably wasn’t an insult, but he was thinking what an absurd way of talking it was when Jongsik, who was driving, widened his eyes.

“Isn’t that Han Geon-joo?”

“What?”

At the mention of a name that shouldn’t have been there, Sa-yoon shot forward like a released spring. He stared ahead and saw a man in a coat, rushing out frantically. It was Han Geon-joo.

“What’s wrong with him?”

The man was looking around like a madman, his eyes unfocused, as if he’d either seen a ghost or was looking for one. Sensing something was off, Sa-yoon narrowed his eyes and opened the door of the moving car. Clang! The door swung open violently, shaking the vehicle.

“Hyungnim!”

Jongsik’s panicked shout fell on deaf ears. Sa-yoon, paying it no mind, jumped from the still-moving car. He landed, absorbing the impact.

“Hyung?”

Han Geon-joo, who had been running a few paces ahead, stopped. He looked like he’d just escaped a warzone, completely panicked.

“Why did you come out?”

The man loved to dress up; there was no way he would have come out for a stroll looking like that and in such a state. At his question, the man collapsed as if his legs had given out. “Whoa,” Sa-yoon said, catching and supporting him. Geon-joo immediately shifted his full weight onto him, basking in his warmth with a sigh.

“…I got out of the shower, and you were gone.”

What an absurd thing to say.

This is the guy who usually takes over thirty minutes to shower.

“I wasn’t even gone for thirty minutes.”

“But you were still gone.”

“So you came out without even drying your hair?”

You’ll catch a cold.

Clicking his tongue, Sa-yoon touched his damp hair. He felt the gazes of the Night Rat guild members on them and took hold of Geon-joo. He urged him to go back inside, and the crazy guild members started clapping. One of them even whistled.

Where did I find all these lunatics?

Sa-yoon shot them a weary look and gestured for them to get back to work before entering the building. As if to prove the saying that misfortunes never come singly, he ran into Yen in the lobby and exchanged greetings. Then Chan-hee passed by, saw the limp Han Geon-joo, and asked worriedly if he was sick. By the time they reached his room, he ran into Lee Jaehee.

Why am I running into so many familiar faces today?

Neither the executives nor Lee Jaehee were people he saw very often. Lee Jaehee stared at Han Geon-joo.

“You found him.”

“Hm?”

“He suddenly ran off. I was wondering if I should go look for him, but I figured you’d handle it, so I left him be.”

“Ah.”

He’d wondered why all the guild members and executives were outside. It seemed it was because of Han Geon-joo, who had suddenly bolted like a madman.

Well, he’s experienced the hell of what happens when he loses sight of me, so of course he wouldn’t let it happen again.

Most likely, all the guild members had instinctively chased after him.

Sa-yoon shrugged, and Geon-joo, looking back and forth between Jaehee and Sa-yoon, grumbled.

“I wasn’t running away.”

“I know.”

“I don’t run away anymore.”

“I know that, too.”

His voice was half-hoarse, either from lack of sleep or because the tension had drained him. Sa-yoon chuckled at the man who was leaning heavily on him like a drunkard, even though he could walk perfectly fine, and passed by Jaehee.

“The Noah joint training is tomorrow. You should come too.”

“Are you trying to get me into Noah?”

“Yes.”

The man seemed to think for a moment before nodding.

“It would certainly be more convenient for my activities. How do you plan on getting me in?”

“We’ll release a press statement saying all the Noah members recommended you.”

“Did they really recommend me?”

Lee Jaehee asked curiously. Sa-yoon smirked at him for feigning ignorance when he already knew the answer. Jaehee shook his head.

“So, it’s a fabrication.”

“What’s new?”

Sa-yoon, acting as if it were no big deal, pulled Geon-joo into the room. After he dried his wet hair, a drowsy Geon-joo closed his eyes again. Sa-yoon tapped his cheek to wake him as he was about to fall back asleep. To Geon-joo’s pathetic whining about not wanting to work, Sa-yoon handed him a pile of documents and began to tackle his own backlog.

Though he grumbled, the simple-minded Geon-joo was swayed by the single phrase “Swallow Co-Guild Leader” and helped with the work. Sa-yoon spent the day getting his work done while occasionally entertaining his bored lover. The next morning, he ignored the flood of interview requests and boarded a plane.

Han Geon-joo, who had naturally taken the seat next to him, looked uncomfortable.

“I’ve never been to Hong Kong before.”

Sa-yoon chuckled at the whispered confession, as if it were a secret. He glanced over the Noah members, then at Lee Jaehee, who was seated with Rai, before his eyes settled.

He had rested enough. Now, it was time to uncover the truth.

***

[Find the Divine Artifact]

Five hours after arriving in Hong Kong, Sa-yoon stepped into the gate with everyone else. He was immediately met with a strong gust of wind, which he blocked, and then flinched.

“Hyung.”

Geon-joo pulled on Sa-yoon’s wrist, his eyes narrowing. Sa-yoon, guessing what he was about to say, nodded. He touched the Ruin Necklace around his neck and took a breath.

His black eyes, faintly tinged with a blue energy, scanned the inside of the gate.

He felt a familiar energy.

Or perhaps, one that he missed.