* * *

As he cautiously moved his wrist, something fell to the floor with a clink.

Junhee immediately leaped off the rock and ran his hand over the ground.

A sturdy, slightly tarnished metal object, as robust as a padlock, landed in his palm.

“…No way. It’s actually a key?”

He looked down at the eerie phone in disbelief.

[ You have arrived at your destination. ]

[ Navigation has ended. ]

Two windows popped up in quick succession before the navigation interface vanished completely.

It was unbelievable, yet there was no time to process or comprehend what was happening.

He couldn’t afford to linger, not knowing who might barge in next.

Clutching the key tightly, Junhee crossed the dark and narrow floor to stand before the sliding door.

When he inserted the key into the hefty padlock, a sharp click echoed through the silence.

Standing before the now-open padlock, Junhee swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and slowly pushed the door.

“…Achoo!”

He quickly covered his mouth with his sleeve, stifling a cough.

The air was thick with the musty scent of an abandoned space.

Pale moonlight faintly illuminated the interior.

As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, the scene became clearer.

The first thing that caught Junhee’s gaze was a chaotic pile of furniture stacked haphazardly.

It didn’t feel like someone’s room—it was more like a storage space.

What exactly was he supposed to find here?

The room was so cluttered it was impossible to guess.

Walking past a closet, a low table, and an oil lamp, Junhee found himself drawn to one particular piece of furniture.

It was a desk.

‘Who used this?’

The desk bore traces of someone’s frequent use.

Beside it was a towering pile of faded textbooks and old test prep books.

Taking out his phone, Junhee turned on the flashlight.

The name written on the corner of one book came into view.

[ Ki Taeseong ]

The letters were meticulously written, each stroke precise and orderly.

‘…The desk used by that homeless man.’

The belongings of Ki Taeseong, who had lived in Hyeonwol Hall, were shoved into its most secluded corner.

Suddenly, the items in this room felt like the discarded remnants of Ki Taeseong’s past.

As a beta, he had chosen homelessness over the golden path laid before him, all because he couldn’t bear to live any longer.

Was his life freer now? Was he happier than when he lived here?

‘I envy him.’

There was no way to know, but when he left, he seemed lighter, as if a weight had been lifted.

Especially when he laughed casually, saying he had “screwed over” the Taesan Family.

‘He was a bit scruffy, but he did look content in his own way.’

Junhee’s fingers brushed against something on the desk—a drawer handle.

When he pulled it, it rattled a few times before opening.

Inside was a single notebook, crookedly placed.

Junhee slowly reached for it and opened it.

The cover bore no name, but the handwriting made it clear—it was ‘Ki Taeseong’s journal.’

He flipped to the first page.

Date: X Month XX Day
Weather: Clear
Title: I Have a Younger Sibling.

[Entry:
I once wished for a younger sibling long ago, and now I have one.
He’s two years younger than me, but we’re about the same height.
When I told him, “You can call me Hyung,” he said, “What the hell, asshole?”
Still, I’m happy to have someone to hang out with.]

‘Wow… what a personality.’

Reading the words, Junhee unconsciously let out a sigh.

He thought Taeryu’s attitude had worsened after living here, but it seemed he was naturally rotten from the start.

The journal wasn’t a school assignment—it had no approval stamps, and the entries were irregular.

Junhee quickly flipped a few more pages.

[Date: X Month XX Day
Weather: Cloudy
Title: Taebeom vs. Taeryu

Entry:
Uncle and Taebeom came to visit.
After dinner, the adults went to the reception room while Taebeom came to my room.
When Taebeom saw Taeryu for the first time, he called him a “filthy half-breed.”
I tried to stop Taebeom, but Taeryu shoved me aside and smashed Taebeom’s face with a gong.
It made a huge sound.
Taebeom got a nosebleed and started crying.
I’ve cried because of Taebeom before, but this is the first time I’ve seen him cry.
My brother is amazing.]

For some reason, Junhee felt a strange sense of satisfaction.

He recalled Taebeom’s flustered expression during their earlier conversation with Taeryu.

“Taebeom, don’t you remember when I first arrived at Hyeonwol Hall?”

Childhood scars are unforgettable, and this was likely enough to leave Taebeom with gong-related trauma.

One thing was clear—Taeryu hadn’t changed. Not then, not now.

What had he said after smashing Kang Heesung’s head?

“I did it because that bastard pissed me off. Don’t overthink it.”

Junhee had assumed it was partly because of him, but now he wasn’t so sure.

Taeryu was simply… insane.

Reading nearly to the end of the journal, Junhee realized something else:

In Taeseong’s entries, Taeryu wasn’t just a troublemaker—he was the devil incarnate.

Yet Taeseong had not only accepted Taeryu as his brother but seemed to genuinely like him.

An estranged younger brother treated like a misfit stone, and an older brother cast aside as less than that.

There was an odd sense of camaraderie and sibling affection in Taeseong’s words.

Even hints of love.

[Date: X Month X Day
Weather: Rainy
Title: Taeryu’s Mother Came.

Entry:
While leaving school with Taeryu, a disheveled woman grabbed him, crying, “Geonju!”
That was Taeryu’s name before he became my brother.
Taeryu shook her off and ran.
The woman chased after him onto the road and was hit by a car.]

Junhee’s lashes quivered as he read.

The last sentence had been written and erased repeatedly, leaving the paper rough.

He brought the flashlight closer.

The final words of Taeseong’s entry appeared like a hidden message:

“Taeryu cried.”

The journal ended there, only a third of it filled.

Junhee stared at the dark ceiling with a somber gaze.

His throat tightened, and his eyes grew hot.

As he gazed at the chilling hue of the ceiling, he thought of water trickling down a drainpipe.

The surge of emotion he’d felt began to slowly ebb away.

“…Hah.”

Exhaling deeply, Junhee reached out to return the journal to the drawer.

But as he moved, something slipped from its pages.

As he bent to pick it up, the tightly shut sliding door creaked open.

Panicked, Junhee stuffed the journal into the drawer and slammed it shut.

A darker, larger shadow overlapped Junhee’s.

As if to swallow him whole.

“Junhee.”

Standing before Junhee, who had turned slowly, was Ki Taeryu.

Tilting his head slightly, Taeryu took another step toward Junhee, who had frozen stiff.

The shadow cast across his face made it impossible to read his expression.

“So the fearless little rat sneaking around back alleys turned out not to be a rat, but a rabbit, huh?”

His piercing gaze seemed to claw at the back of Junhee’s neck, tightening like a noose.

When Taeryu took another firm step forward, Junhee’s vision was filled entirely with him.

Only when they were unnervingly close did Junhee manage to read his expression.

It was the look of a hunter who had patiently waited for his prey to enter the trap of its own accord.

And a hunter only ever lets their prey go for one reason—to seek bigger, more desirable game.

A low, chillingly deep voice reverberated by Junhee’s ear.

“How did you find this place? No, let me guess—did someone send you to snoop around? What exactly were you trying to uncover?”

“No, that’s not it… It’s not like that…”

Faced with a gaze that felt like it was watching a writhing fish trying to escape, Junhee desperately forced out his voice.

“I got lost. I was feeling nauseous and lightheaded, so I wandered aimlessly and ended up here…”

“Oh, so you just happened to get lost and stumble upon Sowolgwan, the place Ki Taeseong used, and even managed to unlock a door with a padlock on it? All purely by chance?”

It felt as though a pitch-black swamp was slowly engulfing Junhee, starting from his ankles.

There seemed to be only one way out of this swamp, no matter how he thought about it.

“It wasn’t by chance.”

“Finally deciding to confess, are you? So, what were you and Ki Taeseong…”

“I followed Baek Seunggyo.”

“…What?”

The hand reaching for Junhee’s collar hesitated.

Sensing a slight easing in the tension, Junhee seized the opportunity to spill his words.

“I saw Baek Seunggyo sneaking in here while on a call with someone. It sounded like he was talking to Kang Heesung. Were those two invited to the engagement party today?”

Taeryu’s hand, which had bypassed Junhee’s collar, came to rest on his shoulder instead.

Dusting off his shoulder lightly, Taeryu replied, “Hmm, I’m not the host, so I wouldn’t know the guest list, but Kang Heesung was definitely there.”

“Baek Seunggyo said something. That he’d go as far as stealing for someone’s sake. I figured he must’ve come here to steal something. I didn’t know this place belonged to your older brother.”

A silence hung between them as Junhee bit his lip lightly with his teeth.

Taeryu’s cold gaze swept over Junhee’s pale cheek and dry lips.

“Well… I suppose I’ll have to believe you since it’s coming from you, Junhee.”

The hand resting on Junhee’s shoulder suddenly felt unbearably heavy.

Taeryu’s twisted smile as he gazed at Junhee didn’t entirely come across as mocking.

Perhaps it was because he recalled the younger version of Ki Taeryu from the diary.

However, his piercing eyes still gleamed with a predatory hunger, like a wild beast sizing up its prey.

“So, how did you unlock the padlock? Did Baek Seunggyo do it?”

“…No, I opened it myself.”

“How?”

“I thought there might be a hidden key nearby. It reminded me of when house keys were always hidden under umbrella stands or near the gate when I was a kid.”

The excuse was flimsy at best, but in hindsight, it sounded plausible.

Maybe lying was a skill that improved with practice.

Junhee felt as if he’d stumbled upon an unexpected talent.

“Even so, I apologize for rifling through the place. I didn’t mean to—”

Before Junhee could finish, Taeryu grabbed his shoulder and pulled him closer.

His breath brushed against Junhee’s skin, sweet and dangerously close.

“Tell me what you found here.”

“Nothing…”

Taeryu’s lips hovered so close they were almost touching.

No, they were practically brushing against his.

It felt as though, the moment Junhee gave a wrong answer, Taeryu would swallow him whole.

* * *