He was lost in thought when the ash, barely clinging to the tip of his cigarette, began to fall. He belatedly searched for an ashtray, but of course, there was no such thing in this office.
While he glanced around, the ash that had been dangling finally dropped. The floor was about to get branded with a cigarette burn.
But instead of hitting the floor, the gray ash hovered in midair. Below it, a transparent, round disc no bigger than a palm had materialized—when exactly, he couldn’t tell.
The transparent plate that caught the falling ash quickly began to reshape itself. In a matter of seconds, it had transformed into a beautifully sculpted ashtray, crystalline and clear, like it had been carved from pure ice.
Though round and shallow like a bowl, the subtle bluish glow reflecting off its surface was nothing short of stunning. A wisp of black energy lingered faintly over the ashtray before dissipating.
An S-rank really is an S-rank.
To craft something so precise in the fleeting moment a bit of ash was falling—impressive. And this wasn’t just any ordinary ice, either.
The ash, slightly crumbled from the impact, scattered loosely into the tray without the slightest trace of moisture. Seo Won’s hand, which was holding the ashtray, didn’t show any sign of temperature change either.
“You’re pretty good at making cool stuff.”
Well, considering he could even craft detailed clones, this wasn’t exactly shocking.
It almost felt natural for him to be capable of something like this.
Seo Won quietly watched Han-gyeom smoke without saying a word. He didn’t try to strike up a conversation, didn’t turn away after handing over the ashtray, and didn’t flinch at the acrid smoke.
As he held the cigarette in his mouth, Han-gyeom stared at him and suddenly reached out with his index finger, as if remembering something.
“Here.”
“…Huh?”
Seo Won looked confused, clearly unsure why Han-gyeom was holding out a finger toward him.
“You said you’d break it.”
“When did I…”
Seo Won’s face twisted with a scowl—then paused.
‘Next time you smoke this crap in front of me, I’ll break more than your cigarette. I’ll snap your fingers too.’
That’s what he’d said.
“Go ahead and break it. As long as it’s clean, fingers are easy enough to reset.”
Seo Won’s face twisted again at Han-gyeom’s casual tone, as if he were just sharing a personal tip.
“I’m not breaking it.”
Not his fingers, not anything else for that matter. There was nothing he could even dare touch.
The cigarette had clearly lifted Han-gyeom’s mood. He was even smiling—something Seo Won had rarely seen. But the curve of his lips was so beautiful that he found himself completely captivated. His heart pounded, and there was no way to stop it.
“I was gonna smoke ten and let you break ten times. Looks like I’m off the hook.”
He said it so easily—talking about his own fingers, like it was nothing. Was he just being bold, fearless—or did he actually trust Seo Won?
Snapping out of it belatedly, Seo Won snatched the cigarette from between Han-gyeom’s fingers. The cigarette had already burned down to the filter. He stubbed it out in the ashtray himself.
“Come to me when you’re done smoking. I’ll give you a new one.”
“You could just send someone. Get a servant to do it.”
There were more than enough staff swarming around the mansion as it was.
“I said you come to me, Cha Han-gyeom.”
Seo Won locked eyes with him, gaze sharp and blazing like fire.
“Don’t go asking anyone else. Only ask me.”
It wasn’t something a dense person could miss. His possessiveness was glaringly obvious. And Han-gyeom didn’t feel like refusing it. If anything, he was more inclined to exploit it.
Suppressing a faint smile, Han-gyeom took a fresh cigarette and held it between his lips.
“Nice. If I ask, you even restock for me.”
Honestly, he had figured he’d be lucky if he was allowed to finish a single pack.
As he was about to light up again, Han-gyeom paused. He stared at the Zippo lighter in his hand for a moment, then abruptly handed it back to Seo Won.
“Not this. Get me a different one.”
“Is there a brand you want?”
“Brand…? No clue if they even have brands.”
He bent his thumb and index finger slightly to indicate the general size.
“Just grab one of those disposable lighters they sell at convenience stores by the counter. Not the modern push-button kind—they should have the old-school kind where you roll the flint wheel.”
“This one uses a flint wheel too, you know.”
“Yeah, but it rolls too smoothly. I like that gritty resistance.”
Han-gyeom, giving an odd excuse, took the cigarette from his lips and held it in his hand.
“Cheap ones suit me better.”
Not these fancy Zippos with their hidden inner workings—he wanted the dirt-cheap kind you could buy for a few hundred won.
The kind where you could see how much fuel was left at a glance, adjust the gas flow just right to choke the flame, and over time, grind that flint wheel down so much you had to fight with it just to get a spark.
Han-gyeom liked those junk lighters.
That’s why Jae-woo always scolded him—asked why he kept ones that were clearly out of gas.
Who knows…
Maybe he kept them just in case… hoping they’d somehow hang on.
A bitter taste filled his mouth for no reason.
Han-gyeom took the cigarette he’d been about to light and slid it neatly back into the row of smokes.
Still… I guess this much is possible now.
Instead of looking at him with contempt, Seo Won was starting to simply watch him in silence. The chill in his gaze was more and more often tempered with warmth.
They had physical contact now even without the pretext of guiding. They talked casually. The harsh tone in his voice had started to soften.
As if filth didn’t bother him in the slightest, he had willingly offered up his pristine bed—and even allowed the very act he once loathed with a passion.
So what more was there to do?
This is hard.
It was difficult—but it still had to be done.
A fleeting shadow passed through Han-gyeom’s eyes.
When he lifted his head again, his expression was as indifferent as ever… yet he looked oddly fragile.
***
The joint product demonstration between Prism BioBattery and J-Cell was temporarily suspended.
All the preparations they had worked so hard on would have to wait for another day, and the executives from various countries’ Esper Associations had no choice but to leave Korea after doing little more than exchanging formal greetings.
While it hadn’t been a bomb attack, the acoustic terrorism that triggered uncontrolled surges in espers’ ESP abilities was terrifying in its own right.
The Korean Esper Association was currently leading the investigation, but no one could predict what might happen next. For now, ensuring personal safety came first.
“Anyway, the main objective this time was the deal with the Korean Esper Association. The other countries didn’t even care—just let them all leave.”
“Still, we should care. They’ll probably end up as clients eventually.”
At Yoon Jeong-ho’s grumbling, Seo Won replied coolly.
On the last day of the product demo, there had been a secret meeting space quietly prepared in advance. It had originally been set up to share progress on that particular research project with the Korean Esper Association’s executives, but depending on how things went, there had been plans to open a channel with the international associations as well. Judging by their presence, they seemed to have come with that very intention in mind.
“So, what did you decide? The Association still has to see the prototype, right?”
“I’ve scheduled a separate meeting.”
“When? Where? Ugh, you never tell me when you make these plans.”
Jeong-ho squinted suspiciously at Seo Won, but all he got in return was a cold, dismissive glance.
“And why would I need to report that to you?”
“Because obviously…!”
“This is my research—one hundred percent. I’m the one who made the agreement with the Association, too.”
Jeong-ho opened his mouth to argue, but truthfully, he had nothing to say.
Seo Won wasn’t wrong. Everything planned for the demo event was a collaborative effort between the two of them—and by extension, between Prism BioBattery and J-Cell, which they respectively represented. But the specific prototype that the Korean Esper Association had gone out of their way to see? That was entirely Seo Won and Prism BioBattery’s solo project.
“Today, at seven.”
Jeong-ho had been pouting under his breath, but the moment Seo Won casually dropped the time, he perked up.
“I’m thinking of doing a small boat party off Wolmido.”
“You’re seriously holding a meeting there?”
“Yeah.”
A party on a boat—in other words, a cruise meeting. And not just any meeting, but one tied to a significant agreement with the Esper Association… on a damn ship.
“You think that’s even possible? What about the demo?”
“Why not? Everything around us is a potential material.”
“I mean, sure, but… Wait, hold on.”
Realization dawning, Jeong-ho quickly glanced down at his wristwatch.
A little past 1 PM.
Less than six hours to go.
“Today at 7?! Why is the timing so tight?!”
“It had to be.”
Seo Won responded calmly, even as Jeong-ho gawked at him in disbelief.
“I picked the time and location just earlier—on the fly.”
“What?!”
This wasn’t some spontaneous vacation—it was an important business meeting. And he was handling it on a whim? Unilaterally?!
