―“The Apostle has awakened.”
Upon hearing the attendant’s report, he immediately headed for Ina Shining. However, her bedroom was empty. The attendant who had followed him led him to another room.
“Welcome, Lord Vincent.”
As he stepped through the door, the newly awakened Apostle greeted him with a smile. Though he didn’t seem to be in the best condition, he was well enough to hold a conversation.
Vincent steadied his breath and strode forward, taking a seat in the chair the attendant had brought for him. Meeting the Apostle’s gaze, he noticed the bruises still lingering around his eyes as the man curved his lips into a faint smile and spoke.
“It’s a relief to see your face again, Lord Vincent.”
“I had no intention of killing you.”
At Vincent’s shameless remark, the Apostle’s smile faded. Well, who in their right mind could remain indifferent when the very person responsible for their condition stood before them?
Had it been an ordinary person, they would have been unable to endure the sheer weight of resentment and averted their gaze. But Vincent did the opposite—he met the Apostle’s eyes head-on.
“I didn’t expect an apology.”
The Apostle let out a long sigh, his expression easing. Vincent clicked his tongue lightly before turning to glance at the attendant still lingering in the room. Just as he was about to dismiss him, the Apostle gestured for the attendant to step forward.
“Why are you keeping him here?”
Vincent’s wariness sharpened, and the Apostle exchanged a look with the attendant. The man hesitated for a moment before letting out a short sigh, as if resigning himself, and then spoke.
“I am Choi Yeo-min, the Second Apostle of ‘Night.’”
“…What did you just say…?”
The introduction left Vincent at a loss for words. The very attendant he had placed beside Seo-yul, a servant from District 5, was actually an Apostle of ‘Night’? Just how deeply had they infiltrated this place?
The realization that the Apostle he had been searching for so desperately had been right beside him all along was shocking enough. But even more staggering was the fact that he had chosen to reveal himself—voluntarily.
And in the mansion of District 1, no less.
“With this, can you finally place your full trust in my words?”
Only then did Vincent understand why the Second Apostle, who had hidden so well until now, had chosen to reveal himself. It was an offering—a demonstration of faith—so that Vincent would believe everything they were about to discuss.
If he were to turn away now, the Second Apostle, who had just revealed his identity, wouldn’t be able to guarantee his own survival. Gaining trust by wagering a life—it wasn’t a bad method.
When Vincent nodded, the Apostle proceeded to divulge everything—the number of followers they had hidden within the mansion and their full plan for the upcoming Day of the District.
Far more systematic than I expected.
The more he listened, the clearer it became that what he had uncovered about ‘Night’ was nothing but a small fragment of the whole. Whether or not a leader actually existed was still uncertain, but one thing was clear—it was an impressive operation.
“Why me?”
As soon as the Apostle finished speaking, Vincent voiced the question that had been circling in his mind. The Apostle had said that Night had chosen him.
“You wish to know why we selected you, Lord Vincent?”
He didn’t particularly like the way it was phrased, but he needed to understand why Night, which had remained hidden from everyone, had chosen to reveal itself to him alone.
“Because you seemed like someone who wouldn’t care if the ‘Moon of Humanity’ crumbled.”
The answer was simple. He was momentarily taken aback, as if the Apostle had peered directly into a part of him he had never spoken of to anyone. Then, a quiet chuckle escaped his lips.
The Apostle wasn’t wrong. The only thing that mattered to Vincent was Seo-yul. District 1, District 5—even the world within these walls—none of it meant anything. As long as he had Seo-yul, that was enough.
What did the ‘Moon of Humanity’ have to do with him?
“Do you even know what it is that I want?”
“Whatever it is, we can make it happen.”
Their confidence was astonishing. How exactly did they intend to give him what he wanted, when Seo-yul was constantly trying to distance himself from him?
If all it took was keeping him physically close, Vincent could have done that himself. But what he wanted was Seo-yul’s complete devotion—his heart, willingly given.
Did these people know how to make that happen?
“It seems you’ve said all you needed to. Now tell me what it is you want from me.”
The conversation had gone on long enough. It was time to negotiate. The Apostle leaned toward Yeo-min and whispered something, prompting him to retrieve a small object from his coat and hand it over to Vincent.
Opening the black pouch, Vincent found a vial no bigger than a fingertip. He didn’t even need to ask—he already had a good idea of what it was.
“A single drop paralyzes the body. Three drops lead to instant death.”
The Apostle added a brief explanation. Vincent examined the contents before tucking the vial away deep inside his coat. Then, after a brief pause, the Apostle finally revealed the real reason for their meeting.
“There is only one thing we ask of you, Lord Vincent. On the Day of the District, kill the District Leader.”
***
With Choi Yeo-min gone, the bedroom was deathly quiet. Lying in bed and blinking at the ceiling, Seo-yul suddenly sat up and moved toward the window. The silence was unsettling after being surrounded by people for so long.
The central garden, now fully prepared for the Day of the District, was overflowing with red flowers. Everywhere he turned, the Shining family’s color blanketed the landscape, as if intent on dyeing the entire world in red.
It’s dizzying.
Leaning his head against the window frame, he gazed not at the garden but at the empty sky beyond. The sun, its outline faint beneath the moonlight, was still high in the sky. It must be daytime.
―“Come with me. Let’s leave this wretched hell together.”
Choi Yeo-min had suggested they escape beyond the edge of the district and live together. Of course, he had quickly added that he didn’t mean it that way, but Seo-yul had already noticed the change in the way Yeo-min looked at him.
At first, it was pity. Then, it was something more tender. And now… now, it was surely that emotion he was thinking of.
If someone liked him, shouldn’t he feel grateful? Shouldn’t he be happy?
I’m too exhausted.
Letting out a deep sigh, he rested his cheek against his sharply raised knee. The quiet around him made it hard to sleep, yet his body felt heavy with drowsiness. Just as his eyelids began to lower, the door opened, and someone entered.
Step.
The sound of heavy footsteps made it clear—it wasn’t Choi Yeo-min. It was him.
Even then, Seo-yul didn’t move. His cheek remained pressed against his knee, and his gaze stayed fixed on the window.
“Seo-yul hyung.”
He had come close, calling his name. A persistent hand stroked his hair, the touch lingering as if demanding attention—as if he wouldn’t stop until Seo-yul acknowledged him.
As always, it was Seo-yul who surrendered first. He lifted his head with clear irritation at having his moment disturbed, only to be met with the sight of a large, deep bruise blooming across one side of Vincent’s face.
“What happened to your—”
The moment their eyes met, Vincent smiled, as if he had only just remembered the bruise himself. His hand instinctively rose to touch it, but Seo-yul caught his wrist before he could. Sliding off the windowsill, he stepped closer, inspecting Vincent’s face more carefully.
“It’s nothing.”
Vincent gently pushed Seo-yul’s hand away. The silent message was clear—he had no intention of explaining. Seo-yul didn’t press further, but his gaze kept drifting back to the bruise.
Sensing his discomfort, Vincent let out an awkward chuckle and deliberately turned his face away. As if that would make the injury disappear.
“Aren’t you hungry? You haven’t eaten properly in days.”
Seo-yul was about to retort—How could I be hungry in this situation?—but he held his tongue. Vincent, noticing his silence, told him to wait just a moment before quickly leaving the room.
It wasn’t long before he returned, carrying plates of food one by one. Light bread, soup, rice—the table was soon overflowing.
“Let’s eat first.”
Vincent took his hand, gently pulling him toward the table. Even as he did, he kept his face turned at an awkward angle, clearly trying to hide the bruised side from view.
Seo-yul allowed himself to be led and sat down at the table filled with food. Across from him, Vincent immediately picked up a fork and knife, cutting the meat into bite-sized pieces before placing them in front of Seo-yul.
And it didn’t stop there—he continued to cut and arrange each dish into neat, easy-to-eat portions, piling them up on Seo-yul’s side of the table. Annoyed, Seo-yul pushed the plate back toward him.
“You eat it.”
But Vincent only pushed it right back.
“You first.”
It was clear—if Seo-yul didn’t eat, neither would he. With no other choice, he picked up the nearest fork and took a bite of salad. The watery crunch of lettuce filled his mouth, and when he looked up, Vincent finally started eating as well.
This feels… off.
Normally, even if Seo-yul was silent, Vincent would chatter on, filling the space with his usual energy. But tonight, he was quiet. The only sound was the faint clinking of silverware.
It was a painfully uncomfortable meal.
When they were finished, Vincent stood to clear the table. And then, at last, he spoke.
“You haven’t forgotten what I told you before… have you?”
