Go Hoon slowly turned toward the direction the sound had come from. Bae Jung-yoon dropped a blotchy metal pipe to the floor—who knew where he’d even gotten it—as if it were something foul and filthy to touch.
“Haa… ha…”
Gasping for air, Go Hoon propped himself up. Jung-yoon came closer and crouched beside him.
“Hoon-ah, are you okay?”
Go Hoon stared blankly as Jung-yoon’s hands moved across his body, checking him over. Without thinking, he gave a faint nod. He wasn’t hurt. But Park Ki-cheol…
His eyes lowered. Blood was still flowing from Park Ki-cheol’s head, soaking the floor in a dark, ominous red.
Over Ki-cheol’s limp figure, an image surfaced—Bae Jung-yoon collapsed in the living room. But this was nothing like that.
Jung-yoon checked him thoroughly, from his pale face to the palms of his hands. Once satisfied, he stood up with a more relaxed expression and held out a hand.
“Come on. Sit there any longer and your ass is gonna freeze.”
His long, straight fingers hovered in front of him. But Go Hoon didn’t take his hand. No—he couldn’t.
The unease hit hard. How could Bae Jung-yoon look so calm in the middle of this mess? And then, the image of him beating Choi Joo-won half to death tore back into his mind.
The nightmare he’d buried deep began rising again.
You’re not the Kkongddeok-i I used to know.
The echo of that low, chilling voice swept over him, sending a rush of cold through his skull.
That pale white hand, offering help now—what if the next moment, it wrapped around his throat? Even in the dark, it looked unnaturally white, like it didn’t belong to the living. Like a dead man’s hand. If he took it, stood up now, he had a gut feeling he wouldn’t get away. He’d be dragged off somewhere he couldn’t return from.
So instead, Go Hoon reached toward Park Ki-cheol. He turned and shook the man’s shoulder, lying there like a corpse.
“…Sunbae.”
Park Ki-cheol didn’t stir, not even a twitch. He was completely out.
“Sunbae, come on, wake up. …Hey, Park Ki-cheol. You bastard, open your damn eyes.”
Go Hoon mixed respectful speech with cursing as he lightly slapped the man’s cheek. Maybe the old-school, uptight Ki-cheol would get pissed and snap awake out of sheer irritation.
Still nothing. Go Hoon slapped a little harder. Smack, smack. The crisp sound rang through the air.
Maybe his motives weren’t entirely pure, but what mattered was that he wanted Ki-cheol to regain consciousness.
Yet no matter how much he tried, there was no reaction. The silence only deepened, and Go Hoon’s face grew even more grave.
“…Did this bastard die or something?”
“He’s not dead from just this.”
A calm voice answered behind him, jolting Go Hoon out of his daze.
He frowned and turned to face Bae Jung-yoon. His outstretched hand was gone now; both hands were tucked into his coat pockets as he looked down at Go Hoon, almost pouting.
Then, like it was the most normal thing in the world, he nudged Park Ki-cheol’s limp body with his foot.
“Sunbae, you passed out?”
His voice was light and casual, completely devoid of concern. Like he was just checking in, nothing more.
Naturally, there was no reply. Jung-yoon stared at him with that same vacant look, then offered a half-hearted apology.
“Sorry. I guess I panicked and hit him a little too hard.”
He was apologizing to someone who couldn’t even hear him. The whole thing felt eerie. Then he murmured something under his breath.
“You should’ve known when to stop, Sunbae. You’re such a damn nuisance.”
Watching him, a chill crawled up Go Hoon’s spine.
“…What the hell are you doing?”
His voice came out stiff, barely forced from his lips, as he looked up at Jung-yoon.
Jung-yoon slowly turned to face him, still wearing that same relaxed, unreadable smile.
“Self-defense.”
Like those two words explained everything. His tone was breezy—almost cheerful.
Go Hoon exhaled a shaky breath, at a complete loss for words.
Technically, he wasn’t wrong. Park Ki-cheol had tried to swing a bottle at him. And it had been aimed straight at his head.
The murderous glare in Ki-cheol’s eyes had been all too real. If that bottle had actually landed, the tables would be turned entirely right now.
But even so… could what Bae Jung-yoon did really be called self-defense? Was this something that could be justified?
Go Hoon couldn’t make sense of how calm and unfazed Jung-yoon was. Like none of this mattered. Like there was nothing to feel guilty for. He shot up from the floor and faced him directly.
“Are you fucking insane?”
The words spilled out before he could stop them. This situation was spiraling fast. If they weren’t careful… if Park Ki-cheol actually died—what then?
Even if Bae Jung-yoon later claimed it was self-defense, there was no guarantee anyone would believe him. The law didn’t work like that here. Too many rules seemed to exist for reasons no one could understand—certainly not for people like them.
“What?”
But Bae Jung-yoon didn’t flinch. Still just as shameless.
“You crossed the line, Bae Jung-yoon.”
Even if he’d meant to help, that didn’t make it right. For Go Hoon, wrong was wrong.
Just like with Choi Joo-won—this time, too, Jung-yoon had gone too far. This wasn’t something he could excuse as being for Go Hoon’s sake.
Why was he always so reckless? Why did he act like nothing could touch him? Did he really believe he’d never have to face the consequences?
Back then, Go Hoon had been stuck in his cat form and couldn’t do a thing. But now, he was a full witness.
And yet, Jung-yoon didn’t seem the least bit concerned. His expression was calm, unfazed. Like the world spun around him.
Maybe he saw the confusion in Go Hoon’s eyes. He gave a short, breathy laugh, bowing his head for a moment before sweeping his bangs aside and looking down at him.
“Hoon-ah, who exactly are you worried about right now?”
The smile faded. His eyes turned cold.
“That bottle Park Ki-cheol swung—it almost hit you.”
He clearly thought Go Hoon was worried about Ki-cheol. The look in his eyes said as much.
Why the hell are you worrying about him? What you should be worried about is yourself. Nothing else. That chilling stare felt like a quiet scolding.
But he was wrong. Go Hoon wasn’t worried about Park Ki-cheol.
He stared at Bae Jung-yoon, his expression conflicted.
He didn’t understand. Why did Jung-yoon always go this far? What was this feeling that twisted inside him every time he saw him like this? Was it fear? Or something else? His thoughts tangled into a knotted mess.
Jung-yoon’s unwavering gaze felt like it was burning into him. Go Hoon let out a long breath and finally said,
“He was drunk out of his mind. I could’ve stopped him myself.”
He’d been caught off guard, sure, but he was certain—he could’ve handled it. Park Ki-cheol’s drunken movements were full of holes.
“Yeah. Drunk out of his damn mind.”
Jung-yoon echoed the words without hesitation. Go Hoon froze for a beat, thrown off by the curse slipping so naturally from his lips.
Wait… did he just swear?
Go Hoon had said it first, yes—but hearing it from Jung-yoon still felt wrong. It reminded him of that time with Choi Joo-won, when Jung-yoon had blurted out something unexpectedly crude and completely out of character.
And now, just like then, Jung-yoon went on unfazed, oblivious to how jarring it was.
“That’s exactly what makes him dangerous. A guy like that? He’s capable of anything.”
And he wasn’t wrong. The wild glint in Ki-cheol’s eyes had made it clear—his reason was already gone.
Go Hoon had nothing left to say. Everything felt surreal. How had it come to this—again?
Where had it all started going wrong? Maybe he shouldn’t have invited Ki-cheol out for drinks at all. Just thinking about it made his head throb.
But regrets were useless now. Spilled water couldn’t be gathered.
Clenching his fists, Go Hoon forced himself to focus. Now wasn’t the time to argue. They had to get this situation under control before it got even worse. The bleeding from Park Ki-cheol’s head hadn’t stopped.
He fumbled to pull out his phone and dial emergency services. His fingers trembled, whether from shock or fear, he couldn’t tell. He punched in the numbers, and just as he was about to press call, a hand seized his arm.
“Let go.”
Go Hoon tried to shake him off, but Jung-yoon’s grip was tight—unrelentingly firm. His fingers pressed down hard, covering the screen completely.
His skin was burning hot. Go Hoon froze, staring into his eyes.
Then, in a soft, composed voice, Bae Jung-yoon whispered:
“I’ll take care of this. You go.”
