Kang Woo-chan hadn’t moved, even though it had been a while since Seo Won had left the hideout. He simply stared in silence at the ashes left on the table.
So deep in thought was he that he didn’t even notice Lee Ji-hye entering the room. Naturally, he hadn’t heard her knocking either.
Ji-hye approached him with concern in her eyes and gently shook his shoulder.
“Woo-chan, are you okay? Did Seo Won do something to you? Is that what happened?”
“It’s not like that. …Actually, I guess he did do something.”
“What?!”
Ji-hye jumped, her face twisting with fury at his answer.
“That bastard did something again?! Should I just go kill him right now?!”
“Leave it. If you do, you’ll be the one who dies.”
“Ugh…”
Ji-hye scratched her cheek awkwardly. She knew full well she didn’t stand a chance against Seo Won on her own. That probably went for any Ability User.
“Huuuh…”
Letting out a long sigh, Woo-chan leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. Seo Won’s words began to echo through his mind.
“Now you know what kind of hell he’s lived through.”
“That kind of person… is holding on with nothing but the desire for revenge against me.”
“And knowing that, how could I get in his way?”
He could still remember the look on Seo Won’s face when he said those words.
“I should help him get his revenge—smoothly.”
It had been the face of someone who had quietly accepted his own death.
“That’s enough for you?”
Woo-chan had snapped back, almost in protest to Seo Won’s bleak voice. He didn’t actually care what kind of end Seo Won met, but he couldn’t stop himself from asking.
“That’s really all you want?”
He still remembered it clearly. Seo Won rushing to Cha Han-gyeom as he collapsed from a panic attack, dropping to his knees in front of him, begging him not to cry. And Han-gyeom, slowly calming down in his arms. None of it would leave his head. How could he be fine after seeing all that?
But when he asked, Seo Won hadn’t answered. He had only offered a bitter smile. That quiet sorrow had silenced Woo-chan, making it impossible to press further.
As Ji-hye stood there, looking more anxious by the second, tapping her feet restlessly, about to speak again, Woo-chan muttered weakly,
“A contract is a contract… You can’t just ignore it, right?”
Ji-hye tilted her head, puzzled by the cryptic words.
***
Tap, tap.
Pale, slender fingers gently tapped at the translucent ice apple. The hollow chunk of frozen fruit tilted slightly, as if ready to roll away, but its bottom—shaped like the curve of someone’s rear—kept it perfectly balanced in place.
‘He’s late.’
Cha Han-gyeom, lying face-down on the bed and tapping the ice apple without thinking, turned his gaze toward the door, which remained silent.
‘Is he that busy?’
Seo Won had left in a rush, and now, with midnight fast approaching, there was still no word from him. Even asking Ah-young had only earned him a troubled look and the usual, “Just wait a little longer.”
Han-gyeom’s fingers, which had been idly tapping the ice apple, now traced its smooth surface—as if gently stroking someone’s cheek. He pulled the ice apple into his chest, then curled up under the blanket.
Within the ice apple held tight in Han-gyeom’s arms, a black mist began to bloom. In the dim darkness beneath the covers, where even light couldn’t reach, Han-gyeom stared quietly at the sight.
When he lay alone in bed, he often found himself gazing at the ice apple like this. The ghost fruit, its core long since rotted away by harsh cold, left with nothing but its frosty shell.
Perhaps it was because the ice apple looked like a perfect metaphor for himself. The moment that hollow interior became filled with a dense black mist—he couldn’t take his eyes off it. It was as if he too was being filled, completely and without a trace of emptiness.
Watching the black mist seep into the ice apple didn’t bring him comfort just because of some passing emotion. Holding his Imprinter’s ESP this close—almost as if cradling it in his hands—had a direct, calming effect on Han-gyeom’s body and mind.
Clutching the ice apple now full of his Imprinter’s ESP, Han-gyeom closed his eyes. Like a bird nesting its egg, he curled into a ball and let himself soak in the soothing energy.
‘Once this is all over, this will be useless too, won’t it.’
Once his revenge succeeded—once Seo Won died—there’d be no one left to recharge the ESP within the ice apple. The black mist that once filled it to the brim would begin to fade, day by day, until there’d be nothing left to fill the emptiness.
And once it was empty again, then it would finally be time to close his eyes for good.
‘You’ve lived too long, Cha Han-gyeom.’
Had things gone the way they should have, he might have already been dead by now. There hadn’t been much left of Song Yeon-woo’s final ashes, after all.
‘There’s nothing I regret.’
He had done everything he could, just like Song Yeon-woo had wanted. Even when he wanted to die, he forced himself to survive. In the end, he’d found the one responsible for Song Yeon-woo being marked for “disposal,” and made revenge his final task before death.
So he should be happy with each passing day—but honestly, he wasn’t sure anymore.
‘If, by some chance… if Seo Won isn’t the client…’
His tightly shut eyes involuntarily tensed with strain.
‘He really didn’t know anything… If it was someone else who asked for Yeon-woo hyung’s heart to be removed…’
Han-gyeom knew the odds of that were low. It was hard to believe someone who knew nothing could have kept supplying blood over the entire four-year refinement period.
But the creeping unease that came in waves—he couldn’t shake it.
Gripped by the rising darkness within him, Han-gyeom clenched the ice apple so tightly it looked as though he might crush it. Sensing his instability, the black energy within the apple grew denser, swelling in size. As though syncing with its Imprinter’s heart, a wave of calm spread through Han-gyeom’s body. His erratic heartbeat slowed, steadily returning to normal.
“…It can’t be.”
He murmured under his breath, almost like whispering to the ice apple.
“It can’t be…”
He had already asked Kang Woo-chan to look into the matter, so once the answer came, he wouldn’t need to worry anymore. He just had to wait a little longer. That should’ve been enough, but…
Somewhere deep inside, a part of him was hoping that Woo-chan’s investigation would fail.
That the leads would dry up, that no clues would remain, that Woo-chan would be stuck with a headache and only repeat how he needed more time.
If he admitted that he didn’t want to see the outcome of an investigation he had requested himself, people would surely laugh at him. But if the result of that request ended in nothing but laughter… maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Han-gyeom was smiling faintly to himself at the thought when voices filtered in from beyond the door. His ears, sharpened by the long silence, caught them clearly even from under the blankets.
He threw the covers off and shot upright in bed.
He could tell, just from the way his heart beat differently, who had arrived on the other side of that door.
‘You sure took your time!’
He glared at the door with a pout, only to realize a moment later that he was still holding the black ice apple tightly in his arms.
Startled, he quickly hid the apple behind his back and made sure to return his expression to that usual flat calm, as if nothing had happened.
Click—
The door opened, and in stepped Seo Won, just now returning to the mansion. He looked at Han-gyeom, wide awake and staring, for a moment before speaking first.
“Why aren’t you asleep yet?”
He was dressed the same as when he’d left, but something felt off. His complexion was pale, as if he’d been out in the cold wind too long, and his face was unreadable, devoid of emotion.
The dissonance was so jarring that the sharp retort Han-gyeom had prepared—“I didn’t sleep because you skipped today’s Guiding”—never made it out.
Instead, what slipped from his mouth was something else entirely.
“…Are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
Seo Won’s reply was short. And unlike usual—when he would have come straight to Han-gyeom the moment he entered the room—this time, he didn’t come closer.
Instead, he turned his head away.
“I’m gonna wash up.”
He walked straight toward the dressing room adjoining the bedroom, almost like he was deliberately avoiding Han-gyeom. Unable to sit still, Han-gyeom climbed out of bed.
“Wait.”
Han-gyeom quickly closed the distance to Seo Won, who had halted mid-step. But as he neared him, he froze, eyes widening.
‘This smell…’
Cigarette smoke. And not just any cigarette—it was the same brand Han-gyeom himself smoked.
But the scent was far too strong to have come from him. He’d never smoked in front of Seo Won while wearing his outer clothes like this.
And there was no way Seo Won would just stand by while someone else smoked near him either. He was too well aware of how harmful cigarette smoke was to the body.
Perplexed, Han-gyeom stepped even closer, grabbed the lapel of Seo Won’s suit jacket, and leaned in. He brought his face close to Seo Won’s clothes and inhaled deeply.
‘This isn’t just secondhand smoke.’
As soon as the thought registered, Han-gyeom looked up at him, startled.
“You… smoked?”
Seo Won didn’t answer. Instead, he lifted Han-gyeom’s chin and pressed a kiss to his lips.
His kiss tonight tasted unmistakably of cigarettes. A taste far too familiar to Han-gyeom.
