* * *

After cleaning his arms, Jingyeom climbed onto the bed and, upon seeing Wonbeom’s back, his mouth opened slightly in shock.

It was like a scene from a torture movie, with scars crisscrossing his back.

These scars didn’t look recent—they seemed long-healed.

Jingyeom couldn’t resist his curiosity any longer and asked, “Why do you have so many scars? Even on your hands…”

Though he knew Wonbeom had lived a wild life, the extent of the scars seemed excessive.

What puzzled him more was that in Gray, there wasn’t any opponent strong enough to leave such marks on Wonbeom.

At least, not in the parts Jingyeom had read.

Since Wonbeom was the protagonist, it made sense, but the sheer number of scars on him was intriguing.

Come to think of it, there was even an explicit scene in the story, but no scars had been mentioned when Wonbeom’s body was described.

Maybe Jingyeom had just forgotten.

“I got them along the way,” Wonbeom replied.

“These don’t look like scars you just get along the way…” Jingyeom muttered softly, carefully tracing the scars with his fingers instead of the towel.

They were rough, almost like they were carved into his own chest.

But these weren’t surgical scars—they were irregular, as if his skin had torn and healed unevenly.

Wonbeom felt Jingyeom’s fingers graze his back, and his body flinched involuntarily.

‘This is… a bit dangerous.’

Jingyeom likely had no ulterior motives, but the sensation still made Wonbeom tense up.

His back muscles twitched, prompting Jingyeom to quickly pull his hand away.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to touch you like that.”

“It’s… fine.”

Jingyeom resumed wiping him with the towel, but a small curiosity brewed as he stared at Wonbeom’s broad shoulders.

Sneaking a glance at Wonbeom, he spread his fingers wide.

He silently measured the width of Wonbeom’s shoulders, then quietly marveled to himself, lips forming a round, wordless expression of awe.

‘They’re really wide.’

He then compared them to his own shoulders, pressing his hand to the edge.

It was about two handspans and a pinky finger difference.

He muttered to himself, convinced that he hadn’t stretched his fingers properly when measuring.

‘I heard swimming makes your shoulders broader… maybe I should try it?’

Though he didn’t expect to grow as large as Wonbeom, he did hope to bulk up a bit.

Being small doesn’t always mean weakness, but he had repeatedly experienced the limits of his own frail body.

He figured that even if he couldn’t transform overnight, some muscle training might improve his overall strength.

“Those bruises look pretty bad. Shouldn’t you put some ointment on them?”

“I hate how sticky it feels.”

“But it heals faster that way. Right now, your body looks like a canvas, all colorful. I’ll help you apply it tomorrow if you want. I’ll go get it for you.”

Wonbeom tried to stop Jingyeom from getting up, but he couldn’t.

Shaking his head firmly, Jingyeom replied, “Just wait a second, I’ll be right back!”

“Ah…”

Before Wonbeom could react, Jingyeom hurried out of the room, leaving his hand grasping at empty air.

There was a time when Jingyeom wouldn’t even make eye contact out of fear, but now he didn’t listen and acted on his own.

Not that Wonbeom minded, but still…

“I really hate ointment.”

He hated the sticky feeling because it reminded him of the past.

Back then, no matter how much pain he was in, no one took him to the hospital.

His torn skin would fester and get worse, and the only thing they would throw at him was an ointment, which was his only means of healing.

He could manage to apply it everywhere but his back, so the wounds there often got infected and burst open again.

Summer was a particular nightmare when the heat made everything fester even more.

Eventually, he figured out how to apply it using a long stick, but it never worked well enough to be truly effective.

Lost in those memories, Wonbeom shut his eyes tightly.

Not long after, Jingyeom returned with the ointment from the staff quarters. He was slightly out of breath from hurrying.

“I’ll make sure to spread it on properly.”

Seeing Jingyeom with the ointment in hand, Wonbeom couldn’t bring himself to refuse, so he told him to go ahead.

Jingyeom applied the ointment as carefully as possible, trying to avoid it clumping together, though he couldn’t do much about the stickiness.

“Does it hurt?”

“No.”

“Is it okay if I ask how you got those bruises?”

“You already asked.”

“I mean, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. You said you got into a fight earlier, but… you didn’t mention getting bruised this badly.”

There was a slight scolding tone in Jingyeom’s voice.

“The other guy was… big.”

“Bigger than you?”

“Yeah. Much bigger.”

Considering his opponent had been a truck, that wasn’t wrong.

“Wow, if he’s bigger than you, he must’ve been over 2 meters tall, right?”

“Yeah, over 2 meters.”

“You’re the biggest person I’ve ever seen, so… how big would someone over 2 meters be?”

It sounded like a question, but Jingyeom mumbled it to himself.

Wonbeom thought about telling him that he was over 190 centimeters, but he didn’t.

---

The two of them got along better than expected.

From the moment they woke up until they went to bed, Jingyeom rarely left Wonbeom’s side, which posed a problem for Wonbeom.

Even when there were urgent matters to attend to, Jingyeom’s constant presence made it difficult to focus.

He had to wait until Jingyeom went back to his room late at night to finish anything.

It wasn’t just work that became difficult.

Ever since the first day they arrived, Jingyeom had insisted on helping Wonbeom wash, showing an unexpected sense of duty.

He even tried helping with Wonbeom’s hair, getting foam into his eyes and ears in the process.

It didn’t stop there.

He also offered to help with shaving, but the moment Wonbeom saw Jingyeom’s trembling hand holding the razor, he took it away immediately.

Jingyeom handed it over, admitting, “Actually… I’ve never shaved before since I don’t grow facial hair.” In the end, Wonbeom shaved on his own, and Jingyeom looked visibly disappointed.

Jingyeom made several more attempts to help, but shaving was something Wonbeom could easily manage alone, so he was always unsuccessful.

Today, Jingyeom failed once again and, sitting on the closed toilet, watched Wonbeom shave in silence before speaking.

“What movie should we watch tonight?”

“I thought you said you wanted to read today.”

“I did, but now I feel like watching a movie instead.”

“…You’re so fickle.”

Wonbeom wiped the shaving cream from his chin with a wet towel.

He originally planned to go a few days without shaving, but Jingyeom’s eyes had sparkled every time he saw the stubble growing, so Wonbeom had no choice but to shave.

If he left it too long, Jingyeom would probably insist on doing it himself, razor in hand.

Wonbeom didn’t mind cutting his own face, but he worried that Jingyeom might hurt himself.

Unaware of Wonbeom’s concerns, Jingyeom still watched each shave with those bright, eager eyes.

“Not the one we watched yesterday.”

“Why not? Didn’t you like it?”

“I’m not really into animated films full of dreams and hope. I prefer adult action movies with a lot of killing.”

Wonbeom had been trying to match Jingyeom’s taste, but watching cartoons with moral lessons over and over started to feel too disconnected from reality.

“Hmm… Then let’s watch something you like tonight!”

Soon enough, Jingyeom regretted those words.

“Ahhh!”

“…”

“Did you see that? His head just exploded!”

“I saw it.”

Jingyeom pressed his hands hard against his eyes and curled his legs tightly against his body.

But he soon lowered his hands again, only to scream and curl up each time a brutal scene appeared on the screen.

“…If you’re going to be like this, why did you suggest watching this movie? Let’s watch something else.”

“No! We’re already halfway through. I want to finish it!”

With Jingyeom screaming from his right side, Wonbeom’s ears were ringing.

His high-pitched shrieks were louder than the action movie blaring throughout the room.

At this point, it was hard to tell if they were watching a movie or witnessing Jingyeom’s one-man show.

“Ahh! A knife! Did you get stabbed like that too?”

“…Maybe.”

“Ugh… Was there a lot of blood?”

“Yeah, there was.”

The movie they were watching was similar in tone to the one Jingyeom had first seen: a story about a retired hitman whose family is targeted by a crime syndicate, leading to a vengeful rampage.

By the time they neared the end, the syndicate was on the verge of total destruction, and the protagonist was just as bloodied.

Jingyeom, who had been watching with half-closed eyes, quietly scooted closer to Wonbeom.

It seemed that spending so much time together had made him more comfortable.

“Will you get revenge on the guy who stabbed you?”

“I have to.”

“But they say revenge only begets more revenge.”

“Then… would you rather I leave the guy who stabbed me alone?”

Jingyeom turned his gaze toward Wonbeom.

When their eyes met, Jingyeom quickly shook his head from side to side.

“No. Just don’t be as brutal as that movie. You should report him. He deserves to be punished. But punishments these days are too light. Wait… Did you report it to the police?”

“No.”

Instead of reporting the culprit, Wonbeom had him confined in a remote place as leverage for later use.

“You should report it! But there’s no signal here… and you can’t go back to Seoul in your condition. Oh! But wait, maybe someone else reported it? There’s no way Jinwoo and Secretary Yang don’t know you’re here.”

Jingyeom was wracking his brain, trying to think of alternatives.

“Yeah, they probably handled it since I was hurt. Stop thinking about it and just watch the movie.”

Nodding, Jingyeom asked one more question.

“Your car is still here, right? I wanted to go out, but I couldn’t because I didn’t have a car!”

“Ever thought about walking?”

“I did, but it’s too far. What if I went out for a bit and ran into a wild boar or something?”

Wild boars were a real concern, but another problem was that his phone had run out of battery.

He had brought his charger from the hospital, but no matter how much he searched, it was gone.

Jinwoo must’ve taken it.

It wasn’t just the charger that was missing.

The arctic fox plushie that Soohyuk had given him was also gone.

It had been next to his bed, but now it had disappeared too.

Jingyeom had tried to borrow a charger from Hoonil, but he didn’t have one either.

He was planning to ask the staff, but since his phone was already dead, he decided to take a break from it for now.

He would borrow one before leaving later.

“…A wild boar?”

“Jinwoo said there might be wild animals around here.”

That was why they only walked around the nearby area during their strolls.

It was getting cold, and considering Wonbeom’s condition, they replaced long walks with leisurely strolls around the large greenhouse.

“Last time, I tried to go a bit farther, but the gardener told me they’d found wild boar tracks! And they were huge, so they told me not to go too far.”

“…”

“But they said it’s safe because there’s a fence, so the animals can’t get in.”

Jingyeom smiled brightly as if that reassurance had calmed him.

Wonbeom was momentarily at a loss for words.

Of course, being in the mountains meant wild boars were a possibility.

And with the cold weather, they could come closer to human settlements in search of food.

But he hadn’t expected Jingyeom to be so worried about things like that.

“Well… that’s a relief, I guess.”

* * *