As soon as the district leader finished speaking, he barely managed to suppress the laughter threatening to spill out. Disappointment was a feeling rooted in trust, wasn’t it? But the owner of the district didn’t trust him.
Perhaps none of the Shining family did.
He straightened his lips before they could twist into a smirk and knelt on one knee. Lowering his gaze to match the district leader’s, he met their eyes and feigned an obedient smile.
“I will make sure that never happens.”
Despite saying the complete opposite of what he truly felt, he remained utterly shameless, his expression unwavering. The district leader gave no response, simply flicking their hand dismissively—a silent order to leave.
“Then, I’ll take my leave.”
Dusting off his knee as he stood, he maintained the act of a docile son until the very end. The district leader, having already turned to face the window, didn’t even glance at him as he left.
Stepping out of the office, he made his way underground. It was almost laughable to think that just days ago, he had been bound like an animal in that very place. But it was more familiar than any space touched by moonlight.
Then again, it always had been.
The moment he descended the spiral staircase, the stench of blood hit him full force. He wrinkled his brow at the metallic tang filling the air. At the entrance, he came across Ina, who was in the middle of changing her clothes.
“Did you talk your way through it?”
“…More or less.”
His answer was vague, but it seemed to imply that the district leader had given him permission to leave the mansion—just as he had intended. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have come here.
Fastening the last button on her shirt, Ina followed behind him as he stepped inside. He walked through the darkness without a flashlight, stopping at a certain spot.
Gripping the rusted iron bars lightly, he looked at the person inside. The man, in the same miserable state as when he had first been brought here, was none other than an Apostle of the Night.
“Everything’s back to how it should be.”
It should have been like this from the beginning. He had been momentarily fooled by that snake-like tongue, losing his senses for just a moment. If he hadn’t fallen for the Apostle’s wordplay, there would have been no explosion at the mansion—Seo-yul wouldn’t have been lost.
As if responding to his voice, the Apostle weakly lifted his head. Leaning down to meet that bloodied face, he twisted his lips into a smirk.
“Painful, isn’t it? Too bad—turns out, human lives don’t end so easily.”
“Ugh…”
The Apostle urgently tried to speak, but something was off. Reaching through the iron bars, he grabbed the Apostle’s jaw, pried open his mouth, and slipped his fingers inside to check.
‘…No tongue.’
As he wiped his dirtied hand clean, he met Ina’s gaze. Sensing the unusual tension in the air, Ina’s eyes shifted toward the Apostle’s gaping mouth.
“You got all the testimony you needed and then did this?”
“Well, maybe not everything, but enough.”
Her response made him narrow his eyes in doubt. That bastard had resisted even under brutal torture—there was no way he had suddenly given a proper testimony.
They had probably just cut it off. Given what he knew of Ina Shining’s temperament, that seemed more likely.
Deciding there was no point in questioning the Apostle any further, he let out a deep sigh.
“Why? Did you still have something to ask him?”
“…Not anymore.”
Turning away without hesitation, he left the underground prison. Behind him, the Apostle screamed something, but nothing comprehensible came out. Just irritating noise.
“When are you leaving?”
Ina, keeping close to his side, asked. He hadn’t set a definite time, but lingering here wouldn’t bring any answers. He needed to leave as soon as possible.
If the information Ina had given him was true, then he had to catch up before Seo-yul moved elsewhere. Time was running out.
“Probably tomorrow.”
Anxiety welled up again.
***
“I’m back.”
Choi Yeo-min, who had left at dawn, didn’t return until the sky was painted deep blue with nightfall. I greeted him as if I hadn’t stepped outside all day.
“You’re back?”
His sharp gaze studied me for a moment before a smile crept onto his lips. A small relief washed over me—at least today, there wouldn’t be any nagging.
“What did you do all day?”
I had taken a walk, fixed up the house, done quite a few things. But none of them were things I could tell Choi Yeo-min. So I gave the safest answer possible.
“Just… rested.”
“Yeah? Must’ve been boring.”
Staggering slightly, Yeo-min rested his forehead against my shoulder. The sudden contact made my body stiffen for a split second, but I managed to suppress the reaction.
There were times when Yeo-min crossed the line like this. If I knew nothing, I might’ve simply thought he was being affectionate because he’d had a rough day. But knowing what I did about his feelings, I couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable.
‘No… Maybe today was just an especially rough day for him.’
Given the circumstances, I couldn’t bring myself to push away someone who had spent the whole day working alone. Carefully, I raised a hand and patted his head. Slowly, his arms slid around my waist.
“I feel suffocated.”
“…Sorry.”
Yeo-min quickly let go and straightened his posture. An awkward silence settled between us before we each found an excuse to busy ourselves—using dinner preparations as an escape.
While Yeo-min stacked dry firewood and lit the fire, I worked on the remaining vegetables. But after cutting away the spoiled parts, there wasn’t much left.
Since coming here, I could count on one hand the number of times I’d had a full meal. Outsiders weren’t given jobs, so our income was dwindling, yet Yeo-min insisted that I stay at home.
For now, we hadn’t been living together long, so I was barely managing to endure it. But there was no guarantee this situation would improve. I couldn’t just sit by and let time slip away.
In the end, one of us would wear out first.
“Yeo-min.”
“What?”
“Why don’t we… try going somewhere else?”
There was no guarantee that another place would be better, but if we moved toward the city center, where more people lived, maybe the discrimination against outsiders wouldn’t be as severe.
Blending into a crowd would mean fewer eyes on me for being from District 5. And maybe, just maybe, I could find work and contribute to our living expenses. That was the small hope I held onto.
“No. You’re still not fully recovered.”
Yeo-min’s refusal was firm. I was about to argue that I was fine now, but before I could, he stood up after tending to the fire and strode toward me. He reached out and pressed a hand to my forehead.
“You still have a fever.”
“It’s just that my body runs warm.”
“You promised you wouldn’t treat me like an idiot.”
Yeo-min didn’t say anything more. Instead, he grabbed the vegetables I had prepared and turned away. It felt like an invisible wall was growing between us. I knew he was doing this for my sake, but that only made it feel heavier.
“…I’ll go get some water.”
This rundown house didn’t even have a faucet inside; the water source was outside. Yeo-min looked like he was about to object, but after a moment, he gave a small nod.
The moment I got his permission, I pushed open the door and rushed out. The outside air was so much fresher than the stifling atmosphere indoors. Tilting my head back, I took in a deep breath, gazing up at the sky scattered with stars.
‘I can finally breathe.’
The tightness in my chest loosened just a little. Of course, this wouldn’t be enough to truly ease everything, but it was better than being trapped inside.
Turning back, I caught a glimpse of Yeo-min through the slightly open door, busy with dinner preparations. He looked exhausted—so much so that even trying to hide it seemed like a struggle.
I couldn’t just leave him like that forever.
I was tired of watching others sacrifice themselves for me.
‘I’ll try bringing it up again later.’
Yeo-min had just finished working, so he was bound to be exhausted. I decided to wait until after dinner, when the mood had softened. I would reassure him that I was really fine and suggest finding a better place to settle down—somewhere kinder than this harsh land. Even if he refused today, I would keep trying until he listened.
With that in mind, I headed to the water spout, going over different ways to persuade him. I filled a bucket to the brim using a crude ladle, but just as I turned to leave, I heard the distinct crunch of dry grass underfoot.
‘What was that?’
My body tensed. Other than Yeo-min and me, no one else should be here. Could it be a wild animal? But this place was far too barren for any wildlife to survive.
I sharpened my senses, staring into the pitch-black darkness with wary eyes. Slowly, I took a step back, already preparing to call for Yeo-min if necessary.
“What are you doing?”
“―!!!”
A voice suddenly came from behind me. Spinning around in alarm, I saw Yeo-min standing there. He had come looking for me. The fear bubbling inside me dissipated at the sight of him.
“When did you come out?”
“Just now. You were taking too long. Come on, dinner’s ready.”
“Okay.”
Without hesitation, Yeo-min took the bucket from my hands. As he walked ahead toward the house, I trailed behind him—but not before glancing back one last time.
The grass, swallowed in darkness, was now eerily silent. Had I just imagined it? Mistaken the wind for something else?
The unease creeping up my spine scattered at the sound of Yeo-min’s voice calling me to hurry inside.
