“Hey, you little shit!”
There was no crosswalk, but Na Jungwoo didn’t care. With tunnel vision locked on his target, he bounded across the road. Screech! Screeeeech! Tires squealed as cars slammed to a halt, drivers yelling curses behind him. It was a miracle no one crashed—but Jungwoo didn’t spare them a glance.
The foreigner ahead, who had been walking briskly, broke into a full sprint. But outpacing a Hunter using his abilities? Not a chance. Less than two minutes later, Jungwoo caught up and grabbed the guy by the shoulder.
“You’re dead meat, now say it with me— Huh?”
“W-What are you doing?!”
Jungwoo blinked, stunned. The person trembling under his grip wasn’t some guy—it was a young woman, clearly terrified and shaking like a leaf.
“Oh, shit. Sorry. You just looked exactly like someone we’ve got a warrant out for.”
Feeling awkward, he let go. She stumbled away, ducking around the corner. Jungwoo scratched his head as he watched her go. That was weird. From a distance, he could’ve sworn it was a guy.
Edokers didn’t stop running until he was at least ten blocks away.
“Haaah… huff…”
His breath caught in his throat, legs trembling beneath him, and he collapsed onto the ground. He really had gotten pathetically weak.
Damn Apostle…
Panting, Edokers gripped his head in frustration. The 7777 Guild had distributed his sketch to all their members, and now he couldn’t even do recon without risking exposure. That guy earlier—he’d once been used as a puppet, so Edokers had managed to trick him with an illusion. But would that work on other Awakeners?
He had no way of tracking the Apostle anymore. The thought of that bastard showing up out of nowhere and snapping his neck made Edokers want to curl up and die on the spot.
And to top it off, he couldn’t even go back to his part-time job.
Goddamn it! Isn’t this a violation of my portrait rights or something?!
If the 7777 Guild had his sketch, then even convenience stores outside the Barrier weren’t safe. Hunters passed through all the time on their way to and from field hunts.
Damn it, I haven’t even gotten paid this week…
He trembled with rage. That Apostle had gone straight for his wallet—absolutely ruthless. Edokers had been using that store for food and shelter. Now he had nowhere to go. But heading out into the field and hiding among monsters? No way. The Hunters out there were just as dangerous.
Should he just lay down some newspaper and sleep in Daejeon Station Plaza? He was seriously considering it when footsteps approached. He figured they’d just pass him by—but they didn’t. They got closer. And closer.
Then they stopped—right in front of him.
“Whoa. The quest actually led me here. So you’re real. You’ve got demonic energy? That’s… pretty unusual. But are you sure you’re human?”
***
The difference between the poison—no, the reagent—Kim Sibaek had made and a regular toxin was the divine power infused into it. Once absorbed into the body, the reagent blended with any lingering poison and divine energy inside. The idea was that this balance of energies would purify the poison naturally.
If someone were an Apostle of a god with a strong purification aspect, they wouldn’t even need to bother with something this roundabout.
But for Sibaek, this was the best option. Since it was an indirect method of purification, it worked like a regular illness—the patient would experience symptoms and recover over time. That meant Tae Woon could still get sick during the process, which kept Sibaek on edge.
But Tae Woon?
He was completely fine.
Too fine, even.
Still wrapped in a blanket, supposedly playing the “sick patient” because the bed he broke that morning hadn’t been cleaned up, he was now stretched out on the couch—head in Sibaek’s lap, watching TV, casually munching on strawberries Sibaek had trimmed and fed to him.
[“Death and Beauty” says that if he looks fine, there’s nothing to worry about. Not everyone experiences pain while purifying long-standing toxins.]
“That’s true…”
[“Death and Beauty” tells you to stop fussing. Your little brother is the picture of health.]
It’s just like the flu—some people barely notice it, others get hit hard. Depends on your immunity and stamina.
Tae Woon, well-accustomed to the sight of Sibaek holding a bird and talking to it like it was a person, didn’t even blink. But then, as if sensing something, he fluttered his long lashes and gently nuzzled against the lap beneath him. A faint moan slipped between his pale lips.
“Aaah… I feel dizzy…”
Yeah, no. He was faking it.
Sibaek narrowed his eyes, unconvinced—but Tae Woon let out another pitiful little sigh anyway.
“If you kissed me, I bet I’d feel better…”
“Wouldn’t a divine blessing be more effective than a priest’s kiss?”
Sibaek raised Lord Biendeoé in both hands and aimed her feathery backside like a tiny cannon. Instantly, Tae Woon dropped the act and put on his most innocent face, like he hadn’t just been moaning dramatically seconds ago.
A peaceful afternoon, all things considered.
Dinner—well, the moment Sibaek would spoon-feed him porridge again—came and went without incident.
“So, what are we doing about the bed?”
“Let’s just take our time and order a new one.”
“Until then, I’ll sleep on the couch. You take my room.”
“Hyung, you’re way too bold…”
Tae Woon’s cheeks turned pink as he sat down on the couch, pouting after getting scolded for trying to lie on Kim Sibaek’s lap again right after dinner. Apparently, it would mess with his digestion.
“What if I did something indecent to your blanket and pillow, huh?”
“I’m taking them with me. I’ll be sleeping on the couch.”
“But your scent’s still all over the bed.”
[“Death and Beauty” suggests you might as well break another bed while you’re at it.]
Her snark still made Sibaek want to flick her beak—but the fact that she was making jokes meant everything was stable. Somehow, that reassured him. Noticing his expression, Tae Woon smiled softly, eyes crinkling, and leaned against his shoulder. His body was a little warm, but it was only a mild fever at best.
“It probably won’t turn into anything serious, but if it gets worse, don’t push through it. Promise me you’ll say something.”
“Mmkay, I will.”
The way Tae Woon dragged out his words sounded more like a whiny child than someone sick, and Sibaek gently ran a hand through his hair.
Now that the fear of their relationship changing had sunken deep into the background, the boy’s emotions came through even more vividly.
If it had been anyone else projecting this kind of longing onto him, he would’ve shut it down without hesitation. But this wasn’t just anyone—it was Tae Woon. And the more he faced what he’d tried to ignore, the more sharply everything took shape.
He knew—one day, Tae Woon’s fire would consume him, completely and irreversibly. And still, he let it be.
Caught in that haze of vague, circling thoughts—close but never quite landing—Sibaek was pulled back to the present by Tae Woon’s voice.
“I’m just gonna run to the bathroom real quick.”
Still wrapped up in the blanket, keeping up his “sick” act, Tae Woon padded off toward the bedroom.
“You’re not using the one out here?”
“It’s embarrassing.”
He gave the excuse lightly and disappeared into the room. But the moment the door closed, his expression changed completely.
He backed away from the door, pressing himself against the farthest wall—but then his legs gave out, and he slid down to the floor. It felt like his brain had been dunked in boiling water—his head was on fire, and his senses were going haywire. Shit. If he wanted to hide this, he had to put distance between himself and Sibaek. But he didn’t want that. He couldn’t.
After everything it took to find him—how could he push him away now?
Gritting his teeth, Tae Woon pressed his forehead hard against the wall. He had to calm down. Fast. Before Sibaek noticed.
Back in the living room, Sibaek hugged a cushion and stared blankly at the TV. He’d switched the channel to an animated show for Biendeoé, but time kept ticking by, and Tae Woon still hadn’t come out.
[“Death and Beauty” wonders if the Apostle’s younger brother has some kind of severe digestive issue.]
“He’s a fairy. Lives on dew. He’s just washing up.”
Sibaek’s deadpan reply earned a look of pure exasperation from Biendeoé. But yeah—it was taking too long. Now he was getting worried.
Sibaek stood up and headed toward the bedroom.
“Woon-ah, what’s taking so—”
He peeked his head through the door—and his expression instantly froze.
Tae Woon wasn’t in the bathroom.
He was collapsed in the corner of the bedroom.
“Woon-ah!”
This wasn’t some sickly act.
Sibaek leapt over the shattered remains of the bed and rushed to him, pulling him up—but the second he made contact, his whole body went rigid.
Biendeoé, who had darted in after him, also froze mid-air.
What they both felt radiating from Tae Woon’s unconscious body was thick, clinging demonic energy.
Something that should never be coming off a human being.
