Tae Woon murmured blankly for a moment, then firmly shook his head.
“I liked him once—it was my first love, after all. But not anymore.”
“…Then why do you want to sleep with Hyung?”
“Because I want to.”
Pi Minhyung was utterly bewildered.
He could have understood if Tae Woon had only been interested in the physical aspect—simply wanting sex. But claiming he didn’t love Kim Sibaek after making such a blatant display, yet still wanting sex… that was pretty messed up.
“That’s seriously fucked up, you know that?”
“I know. But that’s not why he’s turning me down, so it doesn’t really matter.”
“Sibaek hyung must actually be a saint.”
Pi Minhyung couldn’t fathom how Kim Sibaek could still peacefully live with Tae Woon after hearing such things. Although Pi Minhyung himself wasn’t exactly inexperienced in love, he found Tae Woon and Kim Sibaek’s relationship impossible to grasp, leaving him with no useful advice to offer.
“Just try being nicer in front of Sibaek hyung. Maybe he’ll soften a little.”
“Like what? Acting cute like a puppy?”
“…Shithead. That disgusting fake innocence! Pretending to be fragile! Wait, don’t tell me you’re still using that annoying habit of talking about yourself in third-person in front of Hyung?”
“How could I possibly act weaker than I already have? I’ve used that anemia trick way too many times already.”
“You lunatic. With your physique, anemia—actually, never mind. Sibaek hyung probably would worry and carry you bridal style. Shit, he totally would.”
Pi Minhyung quickly erased the sudden mental image of Kim Sibaek carrying Tae Woon princess-style. It was a disturbing scene originally forced on him by Seo Gaeun, who had sworn she wouldn’t suffer alone. He shivered, worried the cursed image would invade his dreams.
“Anyway, I gave you advice, so I’m leaving. And whatever happens, don’t even think about reporting back to me later! I absolutely don’t wanna know!”
Afraid of hearing more insane nonsense if he lingered, Pi Minhyung turned quickly toward the door. But just as he reached it, Tae Woon’s voice called out again. This time, it wasn’t indifferent or playful—just quiet, subdued.
“…Pi Minhyung. Why did you think I loved him?”
“You shameless bastard. Put your hand on your heart and think about it.”
With that final remark, Pi Minhyung vanished from the office. As the door closed quietly behind him, Tae Woon was left alone.
Tae Woon pressed his temples, frowning deeply. Put my hand on my heart and think about it?
Kim Sibaek was the only reason Tae Woon was alive. Back in that basement room, the child’s soul had been imprinted forever by Kim Sibaek. Kim Sibaek had named that hideous monster, treated him affectionately, and loved him unconditionally.
Every emotion Tae Woon had once lost had been reawakened by Kim Sibaek: passion, attachment, sorrow, longing, confusion, hope.
And love. Love. Love.
It had been inevitable. The child couldn’t help but fall in love. That innocent, youthful longing—yes, that could certainly be called first love.
But was that still true now?
A voice, layered and distorted, neither male nor female, neither young nor old, mocked him.
[You must be desperate with impatience. Your pathetic, clownish behavior since his return has been immensely entertaining.]
“Shut up.”
Tae Woon growled softly, absently brushing the area just below his nape, near his shoulder blades. It had been a long time since Kim Sibaek had last struck him there. The pain had long faded, leaving no lingering sensation—something he deeply regretted.
Tae Woon glanced at his left arm. Tearing or cutting it away would certainly leave a clearer feeling than just bare-handed contact. Pain meant nothing to him anymore, but Kim Sibaek could undoubtedly bring it back. Kim Sibaek alone could. Only Kim Sibaek.
For a brief moment, Tae Woon was tempted to ask Kim Sibaek to cut off his arm instead if he refused sex, but quickly discarded the thought. Kim Sibaek would never agree, and besides, he only had two arms.
Sex, by contrast, only consumed time and energy. And it was the most intimate form of contact humans could share. Undoubtedly, it would leave a lasting impression—on Kim Sibaek and on himself.
“Do I love Sibaek-hyung…?”
He softly repeated Pi Minhyung’s question. Love. Love. Love. It was a beautiful, pleasant word. And thus, he was certain.
This couldn’t possibly be love.
Yet even now, Kim Sibaek kept Tae Woon alive. Ever since he was fourteen, Tae Woon had clung to life, waiting only for Kim Sibaek’s return.
Tae Woon had once hated chaos, resented the world, felt disgust toward humanity. Let the world end. Let humanity perish.
…But such destructive emotions had long since faded into the past.
Now, Tae Woon felt nothing at all. Whether the world collapsed or humanity perished, he didn’t care either way.
Yet he didn’t desire destruction either—for one single reason. Because Kim Sibaek wouldn’t want that. Kim Sibaek would fight relentlessly, ignoring his own injuries, to save others and keep the world from falling apart.
If even the smallest shred of humanity remained within Tae Woon, it belonged entirely to Kim Sibaek.
Only because he didn’t want Kim Sibaek to grieve did Tae Woon continue trying to save people, pushing the world toward something slightly better. He didn’t want the world Kim Sibaek loved—the world where those Kim Sibaek cherished existed—to disappear. For that reason, he would do anything.
Even deceive Kim Sibaek himself.
Yes, Tae Woon reaffirmed to himself. This couldn’t possibly be love.
Because to him, Kim Sibaek embodied the very definition of love.
A nineteen-year-old youth, whose life had been utterly shattered by a small child he’d barely known, had reached out unhesitatingly to grasp that child’s hand—that was love.
The bright smile of that nineteen-year-old youth, forever etched into Tae Woon’s soul—that was truly what love was.
Tae Woon didn’t believe what he felt could ever be love. The only love he knew was radiant, beautiful, and selfless. Meeting Kim Sibaek again only solidified that certainty. The man who once pushed him safely out of an unknown Rift, willingly taking his place; the man who, after countless lonely years, smiled warmly and said simply seeing Tae Woon alive and grown was enough—even if everyone else had forgotten him. That was true love.
Kim Sibaek—his kind of love would never deceive someone dear to him.
But Tae Woon’s feelings were filthy, twisted, ugly, selfish, and repulsive.
Precisely because of that— He squeezed his left arm so fiercely it felt as though it would shatter, his lips curling bitterly.
This was not love.
It could never be love.
He did not love Kim Sibaek.
***
In an official press briefing regarding the Management Center incident, the Paranormal Phenomena Response Agency revealed Kim Sibaek’s status as a newly registered S-rank Hunter. His profile had been carefully constructed in advance.
He was publicly introduced as a longtime acquaintance of Tae Woon, a former government agent who had conducted secret operations overseas and had recently retired to become an active Hunter.
Though the government carefully avoided explicitly naming the National Intelligence Service, everyone easily guessed the truth. While some scoffed at the overly dramatic backstory straight out of a web drama, most enjoyed the thrill, accepting that reality could indeed be stranger than fiction. The notion of a secret NIS agent was compelling enough to ignite widespread excitement.
Gwak Yoonsang, the mastermind behind Kim Sibaek’s crafted persona, strutted around proudly, glowing with satisfaction.
If the world weren’t so messed up, I could’ve been a hit drama writer! Society missed out on real talent!
Yet, honestly, the public was less captivated by the secret-agent past and far more shocked that a man with Kim Sibaek’s youthful looks could actually be forty-nine. Comparisons of him with youthful celebrities instantly went viral, flooding online forums.
Now that Kim Sibaek’s identity—and his close friendship with Tae Woon—was out in the open, countless eyewitness accounts of their interactions started popping up everywhere online.
[Pretty sure it was last month, but Kim Sibaek sat right next to me on the subway. Accidentally saw him texting Tae Woon lmao.]
[They once came to my store together to buy phones.]
[Let me spill some tea about the younger guy being all cute and clingy with his Hyung.]
[You remember the Eid Portal disaster at MA Department Store? The guy with Tae Woon, wearing the red hat—that was Kim Sibaek, wasn’t it?]
[Pretty sure he’s the guy from that famous photo of Tae Woon kneeling too lol.]
Unless someone was a mass murderer or terrorist, new S-rank Hunters always became instant celebrities. Among the many enthusiastic discussions, one particularly vivid testimony stood out, coming from someone relatively close to Kim Sibaek himself.
With part of his confidentiality agreement finally lifted, Bae Ji-han’s detailed, explicit stories became famous in an entirely different—and far more scandalous—way.
