“Han Geon-joo.”
At the sound of his name, the younger man’s eyes crinkled into waiting crescents. Sa-yoon closed the distance, seizing Geon-joo’s face to force eye contact.
They were a vivid, profound black. Scanning the dark irises for even the faintest glimmer of encroaching gold, Sa-yoon meticulously scrutinized the man’s expression. Though Geon-joo looked slightly bewildered by the aggressive handling, he remained perfectly still—undeniably the Han Geon-joo of the present. Having finally mastered his divine power, it seemed he had awakened without surrendering control to his past life for the very first time.
Is this why he looks so damn pleased with himself?
“Why do you keep staring?” Geon-joo asked. “Are you worried I’m not me?”
“Seeing as you’re using formal language, you definitely seem like the punk I know.”
Geon-joo burst into laughter at the dry retort. Completely oblivious to the agonizing turmoil he had put Sa-yoon through, the younger man smiled as breezily as a spring wind. Irritated by that carefree joy, Sa-yoon ruthlessly tightened his grip.
Squeeze.
Geon-joo flinched slightly as the intense pressure dug into his cheeks.
“Han Geon-joo.”
“…Are you mad?”
“What gave it away?”
“Your voice suddenly dropped an octave.”
“How observant.”
Unsure if it was a compliment or pure sarcasm, Geon-joo’s gaze wavered.
Grinding his teeth silently, Sa-yoon maintained his punishing hold, refusing to break eye contact. He desperately wanted to fist his hands into that soft hair, yank the idiot’s head back until his neck snapped taut, and scream until his suffocating chest finally cleared. If he didn’t vent this boiling frustration somehow, he felt like he would explode.
Forcing his fraying sanity to hold the line, Sa-yoon stepped forward, planting one knee firmly on the mattress. As his weight shifted, Geon-joo’s back naturally tilted backward against the pillows.
“If you know me so well,” Sa-yoon murmured, his voice dangerously low to keep from shouting, “why do you insist on doing things that piss me off?”
Catching the underlying accusation, Geon-joo offered a look of complete understanding. He reached out, gripping Sa-yoon’s thigh to anchor his own leaning body.
“It was the optimal choice.”
“Han Geon-joo.”
“You know it too, hyung. That’s why you’re holding back right now, isn’t it?” Geon-joo said softly. “With your alignment shifting, it was entirely unclear if you could resurrect if you died. The other two didn’t possess any revival capabilities at all. Meanwhile, I had a guaranteed one-time resurrection thanks to the Arkheart Bow. When the enemy launches an absolute instant-kill skill in that scenario, I’m the only one who can safely intercept it.”
“Did you completely tune out the part where I ordered you not to die?”
“I said I’d try,” Geon-joo countered. “And technically speaking, I didn’t die.”
“You piece of—!”
Sa-yoon’s temper finally shattered, his roar rattling the walls of the VIP suite. Yet, without blinking an eye at the explosive outburst, Geon-joo calmly continued his defense.
“I don’t do reckless things either. I made a calculated judgment and actively verified it through my Survival Instincts. I only moved after confirming my safety. And more importantly, if Jongsik-hyungnim had died taking that curse, you wouldn’t be standing here like this.”
“What?”
“It’s infinitely better for you to grab me by the collar and scream in my face. Imagine if even a single person died there,” Geon-joo pressed. “The mood would be a funeral, and you’d completely shut down, refusing to do anything. How could I just stand by and let that happen? I had to do whatever it took.”
The sheer, unapologetic certainty in his logic finally deflated Sa-yoon’s rage. More accurately, he was simply struck speechless.
Sa-yoon knew it too. If Geon-joo hadn’t intervened, not only Jongsik but Mi-jeong would have undoubtedly perished. He fully acknowledged the tactical reality, yet the fact that Geon-joo had deliberately thrown himself into an instant-kill skill for his sake—blatantly defying his orders—infuriated him.
Fuck, seriously.
A suffocating knot tightened in his chest. Trapped in a situation where he was blindingly angry but utterly unjustified in lashing out, Sa-yoon chewed the inside of his cheek with a vicious scowl. He hated feeling backed into a corner, and he absolutely despised the victorious gleam dancing in Geon-joo’s eyes.
What the hell was the idiot so smug about?
Realizing he couldn’t win this argument with logic, Sa-yoon debated just flipping the metaphorical table and throwing a tantrum anyway.
“Ultimately, everything worked out perfectly,” Geon-joo said softly. “I woke up safely, that bastard didn’t hijack my body, and nobody died, right?”
“…”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
Arrogant little prick.
Sa-yoon had deliberately stayed silent, yet Geon-joo simply read his face and extrapolated the answer. Just as Sa-yoon was mentally questioning his own life choices—marveling at how he managed to collect such insufferable bastards in both his current and past lives—Geon-joo’s free hand slipped around his waist.
“So stop being mad and praise me already.”
Whispering the demand, Geon-joo tugged Sa-yoon forward and fell backward onto the mattress.
Thump.
Sa-yoon collapsed squarely on top of him, pinning the younger man against the white sheets. Utterly dumbfounded, Sa-yoon stared down at the grinning idiot.
His manners haven’t improved a bit, but his flirting has reached master-class levels.
“Praise my ass,” Sa-yoon scoffed. “What exactly did you do well enough to earn praise?”
“You wanted to ensure no one died. I granted that wish, so you should praise me.”
“I also told you not to die.”
“Which is exactly why I didn’t die.”
“…”
Sa-yoon narrowed his eyes dangerously, but Geon-joo only smirked wider. Realizing he had completely lost the battle, Sa-yoon let the tension drain from his muscles. He lowered his hand, pressing his thumb heavily against Geon-joo’s lips.
As he rubbed the soft flesh, the lower lip pulled back, exposing the slick, red interior.
“I guarantee you,” Sa-yoon murmured, “that mouth of yours is going to be your ruin.”
“Then you can just seal it shut for me, hyung.”
“Smooth talker.”
Chuckling in disbelief at the perfectly timed retort, Sa-yoon lowered his head and captured those lips.
Having finally coerced his desired reward, Geon-joo let out a muffled laugh against Sa-yoon’s mouth and threaded his fingers through Sa-yoon’s hair. Noses brushed and bumped as their heated breaths tangled together.
When they finally parted, Sa-yoon furrowed his brow, trying to decipher if the lingering sensation on his tongue was lingering arousal or raw possessiveness.
Before he could decide, Geon-joo pulled him right back down.
Panting breaths were instantly swallowed as their bodies pressed flush against each other once more. By the time the kiss finally broke, Sa-yoon’s arms—bracing his weight on either side of Geon-joo’s head—were aching.
They exchanged heavy-lidded glances before Geon-joo pressed a tender kiss to Sa-yoon’s eyelid.
“Were you worried?” Geon-joo whispered.
“Does it look like I wasn’t, you crazy bastard?”
Snapping aggressively at the profoundly stupid question, Sa-yoon watched in exasperation as Geon-joo’s shoulders shook with genuine laughter.
I always called him a lunatic, but it seems he’s finally lost his mind completely.
“Are you laughing right now?” Scowling sharply, Sa-yoon pushed himself upright.
Geon-joo wouldn’t be laughing once his physical safety was actually threatened. Having paid the demanded ‘praise,’ it was time to collect on the delayed insubordination charge.
Sa-yoon cracked his knuckles menacingly, but Geon-joo merely gazed up at him, his eyes still curved in clear amusement.
“It’s just… I think I finally understand you a little better, hyung.”
“…”
“When you’re worried about me, your mouth gets incredibly filthy.” Geon-joo stated it like he’d just uncovered a profound scientific truth.
Flinching as the observation struck a direct bullseye, Sa-yoon maintained a stony poker face as he glared down at him. Unfazed by the terrifying scrutiny, Geon-joo hummed a low, contented note.
“If it’s you, hyung, getting cursed out isn’t so bad.”
That was the final straw. Sa-yoon brought his clenched fist down directly onto Geon-joo’s skull.
“Ugh…”
Clutching his throbbing head after the resounding thwack, Geon-joo’s teasing smile evaporated into a sharp, indignant glare.
Much better.
Sa-yoon much preferred this honest, childish reaction over the overly relaxed, sly serpent act Geon-joo had been pulling. Satisfied, Sa-yoon lifted his chin, silently prompting him to speak.
“Why do you keep hitting my head lately?” Geon-joo grumbled. “What are you going to do if I actually get stupid?”
“Would you prefer I break an arm or a leg instead?”
“…”
“Behave yourself while I’m still being lenient. Stop testing your limits.” It was a blunt warning that doubled as a plea for Geon-joo to value his own life.
Clearly dissatisfied with the lecture, Geon-joo muttered something about Sa-yoon having a talent for ruining the mood before sighing heavily and sitting up. Catching sight of the apocalyptic red sky through the window, he let out a sudden gasp as memory flooded back.
“Right. I meant to ask earlier, but what the hell is wrong with the sky?”
Sa-yoon pulled out his phone, checking the time. “The Final War gate opens in forty-six hours.”
“What?”
“So if you’re done acting spoiled, get up. I walked out in the middle of a global summit to check on you.”
Judging by how Geon-joo had outlasted him during their kiss, the idiot’s body and mind were perfectly fine. Honestly, Sa-yoon wanted to let him rest a little longer since he’d just woken up, but asserting their dominance at the conference was too critical to delay.
Just as Sa-yoon extended his hand to pull Geon-joo up…
THUMP!
“…”
“Hyung?”
A sudden, sledgehammer-like impact slammed into his previously calm heart. Sa-yoon reflexively curled into himself.
Then it hit again.
THUMP!
The violent palpitation knocked the breath from his lungs. In that agonizing flash, a long-forgotten promise struck his mind like lightning.
‘The moment your power fully awakens, your will shall also briefly awaken. It won’t be as long as my manifestation, but that brief moment is enough for me. So, call me forth when that time comes. Until then, I will live as quietly as a dead mouse. I promise you this on the name of a god.’
Instinct screamed that the promised time had arrived.
He turned to Geon-joo.
Horrified by Sa-yoon’s sudden collapse, the younger man grabbed his shoulders, his face pale with frantic anxiety as he tried to assess the situation.
As Sa-yoon stared into those familiar features, desperate to engrave them into his retinas, a profound voice echoed in his mind.
Do not worry. It will only take a brief moment.
THUMP!
At the sound of the True Body’s voice, his heart violently convulsed once more. An overwhelmingly majestic aura instantly hijacked his nervous system. Despite his fierce scowl and desperate resistance, Sa-yoon finally surrendered his consciousness to the void.
“Hyung!”
As Sa-yoon’s body went completely limp like a corpse, Geon-joo caught him in pure terror. Just as he opened his mouth to scream for help…
Sa-yoon soundlessly opened his eyes.
Radiant, brilliant gold irises stared up at Geon-joo.
The very next instant, the pitch-black of Geon-joo’s own eyes began to bleed into a matching, luminous gold.
“…”
In the heavy, profound silence, Geon-joo slowly blinked. When his eyes reopened, a faint, melancholic smile graced his lips.
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
Hearing those words, the golden-eyed Sa-yoon offered a gentle, serene smile in return.
“It’s been a long time.”