Hyun Tae-oh’s expression was hard as stone as he glared at Kang Chi-yu. Then, striding quickly to the passenger side, he yanked the car door open.
“Get out.”
Startled, Chi-yu lifted his head toward him.
“Tae-oh…”
“Do you want me to drag you out?”
Chi-yu knew perfectly well why Tae-oh was angry. He understood. But the sheer ferocity of that anger—the way Tae-oh snapped the moment he saw him—felt so unfamiliar, so harsh, that it stung. His nose prickled with the sudden ache of tears.
Drag me out? Tae-oh had never spoken to him that way before. The hurt was twice as sharp.
Not wanting Tae-oh to see his eyes watering, Chi-yu lowered his head and hesitated as he stepped out of the car.
Min Yu-hyun sat frozen in the driver’s seat, rigid as ice, unable to move or speak.
“What the hell were you thinking?”
“……”
“What the fuck were you thinking, pulling something this dangerous? Huh?! If I hadn’t found out—!”
Tae-oh’s voice, thick with rage, cracked off as he clenched his jaw, fighting to rein it in. His jaw muscles flexed over and over, raw proof of just how furious he was.
“Ha…”
The sound he let out was half laugh, half growl.
Chi-yu stood with his head down, staring only at the ground. Tae-oh forced himself to swallow his anger and tried again.
“Why did you do it?”
His voice was calmer this time, but that made it worse—it only deepened the ache in Chi-yu’s chest.
Struggling not to cry, Chi-yu whispered,
“I had a reason.”
“And what fucking reason?!” The moment Tae-oh heard that, he snapped again. “You lied to me just to get into that lab?! How pathetic do you think I am? How weak, how useless, that you’d sneak into a death trap behind my back? What shitty reason could ever make that okay?!”
The rage burst out of him like gunfire, leaving Chi-yu speechless. His tears spilled freely now.
“Whatever the reason was, you should’ve told me! Why didn’t you?! Why the hell would you trust your life to Yoon Do-jae or Beom Do-il instead of me?! You really think they can protect you?!”
“……”
“What do you think of me, huh? That I’m so fucking worthless you can’t even trust me—”
“No!”
It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Tae-oh. It was because he trusted him too much. That was why he’d gone behind his back.
“It’s not that I didn’t trust you…!”
He shook his head frantically, again and again. He wanted to lift his eyes to Tae-oh, but he couldn’t—not with tears streaming down his face. So he just kept staring at the ground, shaking his head.
“Am I really your lover?! The one who’s been by your side for over twenty years?!”
“That’s not it. There was a reason I couldn’t tell you.”
Chi-yu forced down the lump rising in his throat.
“What reason? What the fuck reason could there possibly be, that you’d make me feel like I can’t even protect you?!”
That had never been his intention. Seeing Tae-oh twist it that way left him panicked. He looked up at him, shaking his head desperately.
“I didn’t lie because I thought you couldn’t protect me. It’s just… if you knew, if you found out, they weren’t going to give you the new suppressant this time…”
His voice broke, every word trembling with swallowed sobs.
The fury vanished from Tae-oh’s face the instant he saw Chi-yu’s tears. His expression shifted to shock, and then he pulled him into his arms, crushing him close.
“…I’m sorry.”
The sudden apology left Chi-yu stunned.
Tae-oh hadn’t expected him to cry, not just from being yelled at. He held him tighter, murmuring “sorry” over and over. But Chi-yu shook his head.
“No… I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. I never thought of you that way. I trust you—I always have. I believe you’ll protect me no matter what. I’ve never doubted that. Not once. That’s why… that’s why I couldn’t tell you. Because I knew if I did, you’d refuse the suppressant and never let me go.”
“So you were gonna run off into danger over some fucking suppressant? Hand your life to Yoon Do-jae and Beom Do-il instead of me?”
“It’s not just a suppressant. They said another Black Gate will open soon. If you don’t take it… your Rampage, the one you’re barely holding back already—it’ll spiral out of control.”
“My Rampage is fine. You’ll suppress it for me.”
“But if a Black Gate opens, there’ll be no stopping it!”
“If I have you, I won’t Rampage.”
“Don’t just brush it off like that—”
“Answer me. Right now. Are you gonna do this again? Run off without telling me?”
“……”
“Are you gonna make me the last person to know what you’re planning?”
“……”
“If you die, fuck the country, fuck the world—I’ll burn it all. You die, everyone dies. Is it still worth it to you?”
“Tae-oh…”
“You want to turn your lover into the world’s biggest fucking monster? Is that it?”
“……”
“Answer me clearly. Are you going to do this again?”
“…I won’t.”
“You gonna keep secrets, trust someone else with your life?”
“I won’t.”
“You gonna throw your life away just to ‘spare me worry’? That bullshit again?”
“I won’t.”
“Listen to me. If anything happens to you, this country, this world—they’re gone.”
“……”
“If you die, I’ll kill every single person, whether they had anything to do with it or not. You think I’m bluffing?”
Chi-yu shook his head violently. No, he wasn’t bluffing. Not even close. The terrifying part was that it sounded like the absolute truth.
“So don’t ever, ever try to shoulder something like that alone again.”
“…Okay. I’m sorry.”
Murmuring his apology, Chi-yu pressed into his chest. Tae-oh tightened his arms around him, exhaling a long, ragged sigh.
If Beom Do-il hadn’t slipped up over the comm, Tae-oh would never have known Chi-yu was heading to the lab. If he hadn’t overheard Yoon Do-jae and Beom Do-il’s words through the earpiece, he’d never have realized Chi-yu was about to throw himself into danger just to get him the suppressant.
He had almost lost Kang Chi-yu in a single moment of carelessness. The thought was dizzying, terrifying. For the first time in his life, Hyun Tae-oh felt fear. Real fear. The possibility of losing Kang Chi-yu made his hands tremble as he held him tight.
“But if I don’t go, you won’t get the suppressant—”
“I told you. I don’t need it.”
Tae-oh clutched him tighter, cutting him off as he kept talking about the Rampage suppressant. With his face buried against Tae-oh’s chest, Chi-yu whispered,
“No, you need it. You’re in pain. They said the new suppressant only needs to be taken once a week. No side effects, completely safe even for long-term use—”
“You’re my suppressant. You’re all I need.”
“But my Guiding doesn’t ease your pain that much…”
“It’s more than enough.”
“The Bureau Chief—”
“The fuck do you mean ‘Chief’? That bastard’s nothing. I don’t care what he said, I’m not in pain. Whose word do you believe—his or mine?”
“…Yours.”
“Good. Then just believe me.”
Tae-oh pulled him closer, almost painfully tight.
***
The moment Tae-oh found out the Bureau Chief had shoved his telepathic crap into Chi-yu’s head, he dragged Chi-yu straight to Myung Jun-su’s house.
He demanded a way to sever the forced telepathy. Jun-su nearly foamed at the mouth.
It had been nearly a week since he’d gotten even two hours of sleep, trying to figure out a teleport route into Building N. Medicine was his specialty, and no matter how fascinating the problem, doing it nonstop was draining. If not for his genius brain, he wouldn’t have even considered entertaining Tae-oh’s impossible demands.
He bitterly regretted ever opening up when they first met.
He definitely shouldn’t have admitted how much he loved research, or how naturally gifted he was at it. Because now this brat barged into his house like it was his right, demanding solutions on the spot. Just looking at him made Jun-su want to scream.
“It’s not that fucking easy, kid.”
“If it were easy, I’d have done it myself. I came to you because it’s hard.”
Every word out of Tae-oh’s mouth was like a slap in the face.
“…I’m sorry, Professor.”
At least Chi-yu tugged his arm and bowed his head, apologizing for him.
With that pitiful, puppy-like expression—always glancing nervously up at him—Chi-yu had this strange ability to blow away the irritation Tae-oh piled up.
Maybe that was what people meant by ‘soulmates.’ The two of them really were disgustingly well-matched.
Chi-yu whispered softly, urging Tae-oh to let the professor rest, pointing out how red his eyes were. The sincerity in his voice, the way his body leaned toward Tae-oh—it swept Jun-su’s frustration away like dust in the wind.
“Sit down. I’ll need to extract some energy. It’ll hurt a little—are you okay with that?”
“…Can’t you do it without pain?”
Tae-oh interrupted.
Chi-yu tapped his arm, shooting him a look that said please, not now. Jun-su had been about to snap, but only clicked his tongue and began setting up to extract Chi-yu’s energy. But of course, the brat just wouldn’t stop—trailing him, nagging him endlessly to make it painless.
“Goddammit, you crazy bastard! You’re not the one hurting!”
“If it were me, I’d just endure it. I wouldn’t bother you.”
“Exactly! So why the fuck are you buzzing around me when it’s not even your pain?!”
“Because it’s my lover who’s hurting. You wouldn’t understand, Professor—you don’t have a lover.”
“…The fuck?! Who says I don’t?!”
“Do you?”
“…Not right now.”
“See? You don’t.”
“No, you little shit! I mean right now I don’t! I used to!”
“Oh-ho—”
“Oh-ho?!”
“Then you know exactly what I mean.”
“Know what?!”
“That I can handle my own pain. But not my lover’s.”
Jun-su froze, blinking rapidly. Then, hesitantly,
“…Wait. Having a lover doesn’t automatically mean you know that, right?”
“Then you’re no different from people who treat love like a joke.”
Tae-oh gave him a cold, contemptuous look, then turned away to Chi-yu. For a moment, Jun-su just stood there stunned—then burst out, red-faced,
“I don’t treat love like a fucking joke, you brat!!”
***
The Bureau Chief’s office was in chaos.
Kang Chi-yu and Min Yu-hyun had failed to arrive at the lab. The Esper sent to escort and tail them reported that Hyun Tae-oh had suddenly appeared. Afraid of being spotted, the Esper had teleported straight back to Central Bureau, so he had no idea what happened afterward.
Twice now, Hyun Tae-oh had stolen Kang Chi-yu out from under them. It was despairing.
The Chief considered sending a telepathic message to Chi-yu, but stopped himself. Tae-oh was likely beside him. Agitating him again now could be catastrophic.
So, with no other choice, he convened the lab director, the Association President, senior executives, high-ranking officials, and the heads of various broadcasting networks.
At this point, even one useful opinion could tip the balance.
