* * *
“You’re acting funny. Do you think I’m some idiot who can’t do anything without you?”
“No, it’s because I’m worried.”
“Am I really that unreliable?”
To be honest, yes. It felt like he might vanish the moment one looked away or collapse at any second.
But admitting that truthfully would only earn him an even colder glare from Doyoung, so he shook his head.
“Of course not. I know better than anyone how strong and resilient you are. I just want you to be a bit more cautious. It hasn’t been that long since the boss mob’s poison was neutralized.”
Mentioning the boss mob made Doyoung falter.
His pupils quivered momentarily, and he tightly shut his eyes before opening them again, as if to suppress his unease.
“Seriously, why would you bring that up here…?”
Under the dim lighting, it took a moment to notice.
Now that Beom Sinje looked more closely, even Doyoung’s eyelids were trembling.
Despite the situation, Beom Sinje felt a flicker of satisfaction that Doyoung was reacting to him and not the intruder.
“Ah… fine. I get it. Let’s head back. I’m suddenly feeling really tired.”
He wasn’t lying; his body genuinely felt heavy.
It was only natural—he had spent nearly a day on a plane and, upon arrival, had been frantically trying to contact local guides and interpreters until midnight.
His resilient willpower had been holding his frail body together.
Realizing this, Beom Sinje knew it was a mistake to linger any longer and resolved to get Doyoung to their room immediately.
“Mr. Na? You don’t look well. Are you feeling unwell? How about coming to my room instead? It’s just a floor below…”
The foreigner seized the opportunity to interject, but Doyoung refused his offer in a tired voice.
“Your name was Johan, right? Sorry, but I’m exhausted and need to go back. Thanks for the drink. Have a good night.”
Doyoung’s polite farewell left room for interpretation, likely to keep the man from realizing his true intentions.
While Beom Sinje bristled with irritation at Doyoung’s approach, he said nothing.
‘I can’t explain this outright.’
This wasn’t the right time or place.
Since Beom Sinje also seemed unaware of who the man really was, he would need to explain things carefully later.
“Ah, I see. Seems like the circumstances just aren’t ideal today. Well then, Mr. Na, contact me as soon as you wake up tomorrow.”
With a slick smile, the man handed over his business card, which Doyoung accepted without hesitation.
Glancing at it, he noticed shiny silver lettering on a black background, identifying the man as some sort of consultant.
Figuring out what kind of front the card represented would have to wait.
“Well then.”
The man gave a slight bow and was just about to leave his stool when a wave of dizziness overtook Doyoung.
“Ah…”
As his body tilted sideways, he found himself caught by a firm arm.
Somehow, this wasn’t the first time he’d been in such a situation.
Still dazed, he heard a familiar voice.
“Hyung, Doyoung hyung. Should I carry you if it’s too much?”
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Believing Beom Sinje was once again revealing his ulterior motives, Doyoung coldly swatted his hand away.
“Mr. Na, you seem drunk. Let me help you.”
The foreigner reached out to grab Doyoung’s arm, but Beom Sinje quickly intervened and put an end to that.
“I’m fine. I can walk by myself.”
Using the arm blocking his path for support, Doyoung bowed to the man before starting to walk, albeit a bit unsteadily.
Beom Sinje followed closely, not taking his eyes off him.
Just as they stepped into the elevator and pressed the close button, Beom Sinje’s eyes met those of the man still sitting at the bar.
His lips curled into a smirk, one eerily similar to the expression Doyoung wore when he was being cheeky.
The man furrowed his brow just as the elevator doors shut.
Staring at his faint reflection, Beom Sinje straightened his face and glanced at Doyoung again.
Under the brighter light, his pale complexion was even more noticeable.
He wanted to offer to help him again but held back, knowing this wasn’t the time to press.
The two finally arrived at their room—a presidential suite one floor above the restaurant the foreigner had so proudly mentioned.
“Hyung, get some rest.”
Doyoung looked back at Beom Sinje, who had wished him goodnight.
“And you?”
The lack of any intention to sleep was clear from his demeanor.
Unsurprisingly, Beom Sinje replied:
“Rest well. I have some work to finish up.”
“What could be so urgent that you can’t even sleep?”
The question reminded Doyoung of his earlier conversation with Park Chanoh.
“Ah, right. You mentioned looking for someone new to send.”
“Yes, I think we need to find a replacement from our side, so I’m reaching out here and there.”
“Can’t it wait?”
It wasn’t a matter so urgent that it couldn’t be delayed a day or two.
Why lose sleep over it?
Although a top-tier hunter wouldn’t be seriously affected by a single sleepless night, the thought still bothered him.
Sensing a gaze on him, Doyoung turned his head.
As expected, Beom Sinje was staring at him intently.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
What is it?
Why are you looking at me like that?
But somehow, he couldn’t push further.
He had a feeling that doing so would invite words he wouldn’t be able to handle.
“Fine, do as you like. I’m going to bed.”
Doyoung spun around and walked to his bedroom.
His steps felt heavy, as though something was holding him back, but he ignored it.
‘I don’t care. I don’t care about anything.’
Resolving not to think about it, he collapsed onto the bed.
After tossing and turning for a moment, he buried his face in the pillow and stole a glance at the door.
‘Sleep. Just sleep.’
Thankfully, his already weary mind soon drifted into slumber.
∞∞∞
In the darkened room, the faint glow of a computer screen illuminated a large man hunched over in a chair.
‘Who is that?’
Doyoung tilted his head in confusion.
The disheveled clothes and unkempt hair suggested someone who didn’t take care of themselves.
Something about the figure felt strangely familiar.
As if viewing a camera angle zoom in, his perspective shifted, revealing the man engrossed in a game.
The character in the game scurried around, looking busy, sweat pouring down its face.
The sight struck a chord of familiarity.
Curious, Doyoung moved closer to the computer and squinted at the screen.
His eyes widened as he recognized the character’s face.
‘What the… is that…?’
I saw myself in the game, diligently chasing someone.
But upon closer inspection, I realized I wasn’t acting out of my own will.
Each time the man seated at the computer clicked an option in the system window, I moved accordingly, despite not wanting to.
“Hey, what’s that? Don’t do that. How could you handle it that way?!”
No matter how you looked at it, the player had no skill whatsoever.
As expected, it didn’t take long before mission after mission failed.
I ended up in rags, battered and bruised, or, in the worst-case scenario, completely incapacitated.
“Ha… who even are you? Why are you so bad at this game?”
Unable to stand it anymore, Doyoung let out a sigh and tried to identify the player.
But then he froze.
There was something oddly familiar about that profile.
Those striking, sculpted features, the sharp bridge of the nose, the handsome eyes—who was it again?
Curiosity piqued, Doyoung tilted his head further to get a better look, and his breath caught in his throat.
Sitting there with a dark expression, fully immersed in the game, was none other than Beom Sinje.
* * *
