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Winning a Gold Medal Should Be Enough
Sebastian’s curse wasn’t lifted. Reality isn’t a fairy tale. How nice it would be if a curse could be lifted with a single event.
What would lift his curse? Love? Revenge? Probably time. When time passes and he can bury himself, the world, and his misfortune as “things that happened” in his heart.
I returned to Lumaier holding Sebastian’s hand. For quite a long time, we sat in the car without saying anything. The darkness deepened, and the car seemed to be swimming through a black sea.
As we entered Lumaier, neon signs sparkled. When the car stopped at the hotel, I asked.
“Why aren’t we going home?”
“I’m going to buy another house.”
He seemed to dislike seeing the house connected to Canaris, but I shook my head.
“Bad memories will be made wherever you go. Are you going to buy a house every time?”
“It’s not difficult.”
“I don’t like that.”
It’s not that I dislike running away. People seem to have bad memories about escape, but I mostly have good ones. Because I ran at the right time and fought at the right time, I think that’s why I can talk with Sebastian here with all my limbs intact.
But I don’t want to just run away every time. Then nothing gets resolved. I’d either be stuck with that mission forever or be demoted, and I dislike both. I’m fine with retiring, but isn’t it human nature to dislike demotion?
“Have you played games?”
Sebastian nodded at my question. I was slightly nervous, thinking that noble face might say he’d never played games in his life. Honestly, if not for games, I wouldn’t know how to explain this.
“Me too. But not much. It wasn’t my style.”
Walter loves them, and that guy puts his life into games. So when he was busy, he’d leave his phone with me and ask me to play for him. I did what Walter asked, but those games had so many implicit rules. In just 10 minutes of playing for him, I’d get cursed at terribly, and then Walter would curse at me again when he returned. Honestly, I thought staring at that small screen was quite futile, but on the other hand, seeing Walter’s reactions made it slightly appealing.
Anyway, because of Walter, everyone on our team tried those games at least once. Surprisingly, I played for quite a while, but work kept interrupting me, so when I returned after a long time, I’d forget where I left off, start again, forget again, and eventually quit.
Compared to me, Jay quit much faster, and the circumstances were as follows:
“When Jay starts a game, he plays really hard for a few weeks. But in the end, he falls behind even me who plays casually. Why? Because he wants to do everything perfectly. So if one thing goes wrong, he restarts. After repeating the same thing, he gets bored and quits.”
“…”
“I’d rather see various things than one perfect thing. Especially with you.”
Sebastian’s hardened expression was pitiful. For someone who achieved revenge, there was no satisfaction on that face.
“Let’s go home and pop some champagne. Our house has better alcohol than this hotel.”
“That’s true.”
“And then have amazing sex.”
“Sounds good.”
“Let’s celebrate that bastard never being able to dream of a happy life again.”
Actually, I think that terrible bastard could still dream of a happy life. It’s just that the difficulty level has increased significantly.
He’ll have to live his life on a hospital bed no different from a prison, unable to move his limbs. Knowing what kind of person he is, the treatment from those around him will be harsh. They might abuse him. That shouldn’t happen, but even if not abuse, he’ll never receive genuine kindness. And for the rest of his life, he’ll be miserable, uncomfortable, and in pain. He can’t even kill himself. People commonly think you can die by biting your tongue, but usually, you just lose your tongue. If you don’t have legs, you at least need arms to try to die somehow. He doesn’t even have the freedom to die.
In truth, it’s better for criminals to die. No matter what pain you inflict, nothing is as beneficial to the world as their death. But it can’t be helped. If that bastard dies, my boyfriend’s heart would feel empty. He has to live as a totem in my boyfriend’s heart. Of course, it’s a waste of taxes, but Sebastian will pay a lot of taxes, so everyone will probably forgive this level of tax waste. Or not.
Sebastian looked down at me and smiled.
“Yes, and let’s bless our happy life.”
Finally, my brilliant fiancé understands!
“Sounds good.”
I agreed.
In truth, I didn’t have the slightest intention of drinking champagne. Sebastian was wonderful, and the fact that he finally completed his revenge, that Canaris would disappear from the world, and that my miserable work life was over—I was already fully charged with sexual desire. What champagne? If I had to drink, the name of the glass would be Sebastian. Apart from pouring into Sebastian’s mouth and sucking it out, I wasn’t thinking about leisurely clinking champagne glasses. Honestly, all I could think about was Sebastian’s smooth, thick organ. I was so hot that I could suck it with my mouth and have it inside me right away.
The world rarely goes as planned.
“You bastard, why are you only coming now?!”
Lee Martin jumped up from the reception room sofa and pointed at me. I wanted to point back at him. Why are you here! What about my hot, passionate sex! But I held back. Because Sebastian said, “We’re talking. I’ll change my clothes and come back,” kissed me, and disappeared.
Damn, I missed my chance.
Ah, why do I keep missing someone today? So annoying.
I sat across from Lee and frowned. Sebastian, who loves me enormously, embraced me, kissed me, held my hand, and was sweet to me without blaming my filthiness. The eyes and noses of the bodyguards Sebastian brought seemed covered by their salaries. But Lee, who had nothing, frowned as soon as he saw me.
“Ah fuck, you smell!”
“Is it that bad?”
“It’s terrible! Go wash yourself! Did you go around like that? Didn’t people look at you like you were crazy?”
Come to think of it, my latte at the café came really quickly. It seems like my latte came before people who arrived earlier than me. But no one complained… There must have been an implicit agreement to get me out quickly. That gives me chills, and above all, Sebastian’s selective stomach, which embraced me as if nothing was wrong, gave me another chill. He’s slightly obsessive-compulsive.
“I’ll go wash up.”
“Scrub hard, idiot.”
As I was leaving the reception room, I turned back.
“Why am I an idiot?”
“You crazy bastard. You catch Yudorov and retire? Are you retiring after winning a gold medal? The real thing starts now. What have you been working for until now? Isn’t what comes after winning the gold medal important?”
Lee expressed his frustration, saying my life is pitiful for having such a frustrating friend. He usually pretends to be very smooth, but today he seems to have no room for that. I saw the kiss mark on his neck but pretended not to see it and replied.
“If I won a gold medal, I can retire, right? You ask what I’ve been working for. I’ve been working to win the gold medal.”
When I was in school, my teacher recommended I try sports. Well, I was good at any sport, so perhaps they thought it was a waste. Or maybe they thought I was hopeless at studying. Anyway, if I had accepted that recommendation and gone into sports, I would naturally have aimed for a gold medal. The number one in the world. Of course, it’s just for a moment, but still. Most people can’t be the best in the world even for a single moment. How meaningful is that? To whom? Obviously, to me.
Therefore, winning the gold medal is the most important thing—what else matters? If I win a gold medal and retire, I’d have no regrets, but if I had to retire without winning a gold medal, pushed by time or circumstances, I’d be sad. What else is there?
I caught my world’s gold medal. The Holy Grail, Matthias Yudorov. That’s enough, what do you mean “the real thing starts now”? What comes after?
Lee was staring at my face. Looking intently at my dirty, smelly face, he asked with a somewhat shocked expression.
“You think it’s over now?”
I tried to recall if I had left anything behind. Our team members? They might feel a bit disappointed, but they’re adults. When a superior retires, they’ll work with another superior. Once a superior, always a superior? This isn’t the Middle Ages, that can’t be the case.
What exactly is the problem?
Lee asked again.
“So catching Canaris is enough? Armin, haven’t you thought about what comes after?”
Ah, this is really frustrating.
“What comes after?”
We looked at each other as if in confrontation. Despite knowing each other for quite a while, we faced each other with gazes as if looking at strangers. Eventually, Lee let out a dry laugh.
“Fuck, I’ve had the Little Prince as a friend…”
“What?”
“It’s an honor. Go wash up, you dirty Little Prince.”
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
