Jeong Tae-ui looked down at the man with his tousled face. Now that his memory had returned, should he rekindle the grudge from yesterday? Scratching his head, he thought so—but the grudge, once it had fizzled out, didn’t flare up vividly like before. Yeah, grudges were probably something you held only against fellow humans, not beings of a completely different breed.

Tae-ui sighed. As he pulled back the blanket to get out of bed, the man—who sometimes was so light a sleeper that Tae-ui doubted if he was really asleep—opened his eyes. Clear eyes, completely free of drowsiness, stared at Tae-ui. It was always like this. Even if this man had truly been asleep moments ago, the moment he opened his eyes, they were cool and sharp.

“What time is it?”

“Five-thirty.”

Tae-ui answered, glancing at the clock, and Ilay murmured again, closing his eyes.

“Sleep more.”

“No, I’m already fully awake.”

Tae-ui got out of bed. Ilay opened his eyes again. Watching quietly as Tae-ui put on his clothes, he reached beyond the blanket, feeling for the water cup on the bedside. He grabbed the half-empty cup and drained it in one gulp.

Sitting up, Ilay looked at the clock again. Then, as if recalling something, he said:

“Come to think of it, your brother called last night. Asked me to send his regards.”

“Kyle? Hmm… I should call him later.”

Muttering, Tae-ui slid his arms into his T-shirt. Then, suddenly, he thought, ‘Hmm.’

Somehow everything felt very ordinary. Yesterday, that bastard had left blazing with murderous intent, and I was filled with endless grudges and deep gloom.

Tae-ui glanced at Ilay. His indifferent expression was no different than usual. As if nothing had happened, he got up and entered the bathroom. Ilay was about to get up too. The sound of water flowing started. “That bastard’s using my shampoo and soap again,” Tae-ui thought absently, sighed, shrugged, and quietly left the room.

He felt somewhat drained. Whether he got angry or depressed, it didn’t matter to that bastard. Seeing such a calm attitude drained Tae-ui’s energy as well.

Yeah, that’s how human relationships are. Can good things only pile up between people? ...Though with that bastard, good things had almost never piled up.

Sighing, Tae-ui went downstairs. Seeing lights on in the office, he guessed the hostess was already up. Passing the glass door to the office, he noticed her opening a locked drawer and pulling out a notebook. When she saw Tae-ui, she smiled brightly.

“You’re up early,” she said, and they exchanged a few greetings.

He wasn’t the only one awake. The sound of a door opening inside the hallway was heard. Then footsteps toward the bathroom—apparently, the first-floor rooms didn’t have attached bathrooms. Gabe seemed to be up as well.

Thinking ‘What diligent people,’ Tae-ui opened the front door and stepped outside.

The day was hazy and overcast. Though not very dark, the sun was nowhere to be seen—perhaps fog was hanging. Dew on the grass brushed his shoes, dampening their toes. Tae-ui enjoyed the rustling sound beneath his feet as he stepped into the garden. A quiet, pleasant dawn silence lingered in the air. Somewhere distant, the creak of a gate hinge sounded faintly. Maybe the eldest son of a nearby house was heading to work early.

Tae-ui walked toward a hammock hanging between fruit trees. The hammock, loosely woven from thin straw, looked fragile enough to snap any second, but was sturdier than it seemed; even when Tae-ui climbed on and lay down, it didn’t falter. Only, at this hour, the dew made it wet, soaking his backside.

Oh no, he thought, patting the damp seat of his pants, but it was too late. Accepting the wetness, he sat down again and picked up a piece of fruit that had fallen at his feet. It was a fully ripe, soft mango. After handling it with both hands, he bit off one end and sucked the flesh while rocking the hammock gently like a rocking chair.

The dawn was peaceful and quiet. Inside the house, occasional sounds of someone waking and moving drifted out. Outside, in the calm stillness, Tae-ui was alone in the garden.

Suddenly, he felt a gaze prick his cheek. Turning, he saw no one outside the stone wall—only a dark alley corner where the black girl had stood last night.

“Who’s there?”

No answer came, but Tae-ui spoke softly. His quiet voice brushed the silent garden and reached beyond. Still no reply.

He was about to speak again when a knock sounded on the door behind him.

“Excuse me,” said a tall voice beyond the door. Tae-ui climbed down from the window ledge and answered, “Ah, yes.”

The door creaked open two or three spans, and the hostess poked her head in.

“Aren’t you hungry? I’ve prepared some food, so come down to the dining room.”

“Yes? Ah, yes. Thank you.”

Tae-ui smiled faintly and nodded. The hostess smiled warmly and left, closing the door.

Hearing that, the hunger he had forgotten returned. Tae-ui glanced once more out the open window, shrugged, and turned inside.

“Back when I left with my uncle for UNHRDO, I never even dreamed I’d come face to face with someone like Ilay Riegrow.”

Muttering that he didn’t even know such a bastard existed, Jeong Tae-ui sighed.

Gabe silently gazed at the large fruit tree at the far edge of the garden, then suddenly asked,
“If you’re Researcher Jeong Jae-ui’s younger brother, then Instructor Jeong Chang-in must be your uncle, right?”

“Ah... yes, that’s right. Do you know my uncle?”

“No. He’s close with the boss, so he used to visit occasionally, but I’ve only seen him a few times. ...Then, did you meet Rick at UNHRDO, or was it through the boss or Instructor Jeong Chang-in?”

“At UNHRDO.”

The place countless people admired from afar—UNHRDO—was where misfortune began. Tae-ui stared blankly at the sky.

Come to think of it, Gabe was asking a foolish question. Neither Kyle nor Chang-in would ever introduce Ilay to Tae-ui. If they had, Tae-ui would have been prepared to hold a lifetime grudge.

Tae-ui glanced at Gabe, who nodded with an unreadable expression. Tae-ui smiled bitterly and asked,
“You’re surprisingly curious about that. I thought you wouldn’t care much about other people’s affairs.”

Only after saying this did he worry it might have sounded sarcastic, so he quickly added,
“Ah, it’s not that I’m annoyed or anything. It’s just really unexpected. You’re so quiet and indifferent, I thought you wouldn’t care how anyone met anyone else.”

Gabe was silent for a moment, then shrugged.

“Sorry. No offense /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ meant. It’s just that Rick... isn’t very good at getting along with people, so I found it a bit surprising.”

Tae-ui closed his mouth. There was too much to unpack in that statement, so he couldn’t respond right away.

This guy was probably the same kind as Kyle. He spoke very mildly about Ilay Riegrow. “Not good at getting along with people” was an understatement. Moreover, saying that implied he thought Tae-ui somehow got along with Ilay—which left Tae-ui utterly baffled.

…Or maybe what Gabe meant by “getting along” was sexual. Thinking about yesterday, that might fit. But even so, it didn’t quite add up. Saying someone “isn’t good at getting along with people” didn’t match the image of someone so sexually uninhibited.

Tae-ui thought deeply about how to interpret Gabe’s brief remark but came to no conclusion. So he gave up trying to understand and sighed before saying,
“Well... he’s not that unsociable or vicious.”

Half sincere, half facade, he mumbled and reconsidered his own words. It wasn’t a lie. Ilay could attract people when needed—though his methods had issues—and despite severe character flaws, he wasn’t entirely bad.

Gabe nodded indifferently.

“Well, even if he were a serial killer, there’s usually at least one person who’d feel sorry when he dies.”

“...”

Tae-ui stared at Gabe in stunned disbelief. But Gabe seemed unaware of what he’d just said, looking completely unfazed.

“Uh... so you don’t get along well with Ilay, huh?”

Tae-ui forced a smile and asked, but Gabe shrugged nonchalantly as if it didn’t matter either way. Tae-ui just shook his head.

He might be a rather remarkable character after all.

Yet, regardless of context, Gabe’s words were not wrong. Even the worst serial killer or heinous criminal or traitor—or a monstrous Nazi who slaughtered millions—knowing all that—there would be at least one person who pitied him. Like how no matter what Tae-ui did, Jae-ui would probably comfort him.

And even a man like Ilay Riegrow, whose cruel and brutal nature was well known, would still have someone who would comfort him. Surely he was a bad man, but not entirely hated.

“...Hmm...?”

Tae-ui suddenly tilted his head. Something felt off. A fleeting, uneasy thought flashed but vanished before he could grasp it.

There was a tickling thought on the edge of his mind that refused to be caught. Tae-ui rubbed his brow and murmured thoughtfully.

But before he could catch the thread of that thought, an interruption came.

“Are you two having some fun chat?”

A low, calm voice approached from the entrance. Without turning his head, Tae-ui knew whose voice it was. The voice walked closer.

He only flicked his eyes without turning. Ilay, wearing only pants and bare-chested, hands in pockets, was walking slowly. Ilay glanced from Gabe to Tae-ui and back to Gabe, then sat on the bench next to Gabe.

“I thought I heard my name...?”

Ilay spoke slowly. Before Tae-ui could reply, Gabe answered flatly.

“They were asking how you met. Nothing special.”

“Hmm, I see. That’s something. Gabe, you started the conversation? Looks like you like that guy.”

Gabe was silent. Not so much agreeing as lost in thought. But after a few seconds, deciding, Gabe shook his head.

“We’ll be moving together to find someone, so I thought it best to know the basics about each other. That’s all.”

Emphasizing ‘that’s all,’ Gabe paused, then added,

“Besides, it’s not strange at all that I’m here at this hour.”

Ilay glanced briefly at the small pool a few steps ahead, then nodded.

“I see... Still swimming every dawn, huh? Looks like Tae-ui and I interrupted. Don’t mind, swim as much as you want.”

“No, we’re chatting. I’m going to the beach about ten minutes away. If Anna asks about me, tell her that.”

Gabe stood up promptly and moved. Instead of heading toward the gate, he took a small path around the pool, hidden by bushes, disappearing into the garden. Watching his retreating back, Tae-ui thought, ‘So there’s a separate gate there too.’

“Likes swimming, huh.”

“I’ve gone in the water every dawn for as long as I can remember unless something special happened. Looks like that hasn’t changed.”

Ilay muttered calmly. Tae-ui nodded, watching Gabe vanish from sight.

“Swimming, huh... no wonder your physique is slender and well-built. You must have worked out.”

Tae-ui muttered, and Ilay chuckled softly.

“In the military, at UNHRDO, few people you’ve known haven’t done some exercise.”

Thinking that was true, Tae-ui nodded but tilted his head suspiciously. Now that he thought about it, there was a difference.

“No, not everyone who works out ends up with a body like that.”

True enough, swimming isn’t necessarily the best way to build a gorgeous physique. One of Tae-ui’s friends went to national swim championships—he had a good build but was more burly than slender and handsome.

Remembering that muscle-loving friend, Tae-ui glanced over. Ilay sat loosely on the bench’s backrest, staring at the pool—or rather, casting his gaze without focus.

That man had a beautiful body too. Tae-ui had thought so before. Not just the body—his hands and feet were smooth, and sometimes he found himself admiring the shape of Ilay’s ear rim or jawline.

Every time he thought that, Tae-ui felt sorry for Ilay’s personality.

He sighed, shaking his head. And for himself, stuck beside that personality, he felt sorry too.

When would he get away? If the obsession faded with time, could he go somewhere else? No, thinking about that personality, the conclusion might be: “Now that harassing him is no longer fun or interesting, just kill him.”

…Too realistic.

A chill ran down Tae-ui’s arm, and he rubbed his skin, swallowing uneasily.

“Don’t wander around wherever you please.”

Then Ilay, still staring indifferently at the grass, muttered abruptly. Tae-ui turned his head, puzzled.

“Don’t go wandering off alone without a word.”

Ilay clicked his tongue and added again. Tae-ui frowned ambiguously, mumbling,

“Even if I try to run away on this small island, I won’t get far before they catch me.”

When he ran, he planned carefully—waiting for the right time, even writing a note saying, “Don’t look for me anymore.” It would be clearly understood as a message meant to annoy whoever found it.

But whatever Tae-ui said, it seemed different from Ilay’s meaning. Ilay looked at Tae-ui with narrowed eyes and said,

“You’re planning to run away. So you’ve been thinking about that again.”

“...”

Tae-ui blinked, as if to say, ‘That wasn’t what I meant.’ Damn, he’d messed up.

Wondering if Ilay was going to snatch him like a fish again, Tae-ui clicked his tongue in secret and glanced cautiously. Ilay silently tapped the bench’s backrest with his fingertips. Tae-ui thought that gesture might cause trauma. The fingers seemed lost in thought—and whenever that happened, good things never came for Tae-ui.

“Then let me ask you something.”

The fingers stopped. At the same time, Ilay’s languid voice flowed out. Tae-ui frowned inwardly.

See, it’s just like I said. No decent questions come from him.

“Well... I hope it’s something I can answer. What is it?”

“Why are you trying to run away?”

Tae-ui shut his mouth and stared quietly at Ilay.

His voice was calm, as if he had no real interest in Tae-ui’s answer, simply gazing at the clear pool water.

Tae-ui wondered what Ilay was really asking. There was no way he was asking because he didn’t know. Though his mind was severely off track, he wasn’t unaware of himself.

Running away—inevitably, a negative answer would come. Ilay wasn’t the kind to pick a fight over excuses. If he disliked someone, he’d just step on them without bothering with reasons.

“Wouldn’t you run away?”

Finally giving up on pondering, Tae-ui lay back down on the hammock and muttered.

Ilay’s reply was infuriatingly dismissive.

“If it were me, I wouldn’t run. I don’t take bets with no chance of winning.”

Yeah, so he’s daring me to run. He can catch me anytime. Tae-ui bitterly chewed his words. It must’ve been a warning.

But just when Tae-ui thought the talk was over, Ilay pressed again.

“Tell me. Why are you trying to run?”

“...You’re not asking because you don’t know, right?”

“A few reasons come to mind, but I’m wondering which one it really is.”

Ignoring Ilay’s indifferent tone, Tae-ui looked at the sky. As dawn brightened, the light mist faded and the sky took on a bluish glow.

Running away.

It’d be nice if he could think about it and say it. But this man seemed determined to wait for the answer.

“Why the sudden urge to hear me badmouth myself...? Ugh. I think it’s because if I’m by your side, I won’t die by my own hand.”

Tae-ui grumbled, half-joking, but it was the most fundamental reason. He didn’t know how he’d die—maybe by Ilay’s hand, maybe caught by some attacker aiming at Ilay, or maybe from a broken heart after taking care of Ilay. Plenty of reasons to die, but the conclusion was clear: he wouldn’t die on his own terms.

“Yeah... Keeping your life safe is the most basic priority. And?”

“What?”

“That’s all? The only reason you’re running from me?”

Still casually tapping the bench backrest with his index finger, Ilay again started to think. Tae-ui frowned at those fingers, wondering what was on his mind.

Exasperated, he got up from the hammock, scratched his head, and scowled with displeasure.