From Ha-jin’s perspective, it looked like President Han was about to leap right over the desk—but unfortunately for him, Kim Dae-hong and the security team who stormed in behind him got to him first.
“Let me go! You fucking lunatics, where the hell do you think you’re putting your hands?!”
He shouted, but his body twisted violently as the dark-suited men pressed him down. There was no way he could resist that kind of brute force. Sitting at his desk, watching the whole thing unfold, Cheon Tae-seong let out a quiet sigh.
“You didn’t used to be like this. Must be pretty desperate now, huh?”
“What?! You son of a bitch! You stole our stuff, didn’t you?! Where the fuck did you hide it?!”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
With each arm pinned by a different guard, President Han was eventually forced to his knees. As his chest hit the floor, he started spewing curses through heavy, furious breaths.
“……!”
Ha-jin froze, startled. It hit him, once again, why Tae-seong and Cheon Han-jo kept such a large security detail around them. And with that, he couldn’t help but remember the raw, vicious side of them as well.
“Wait. Dae-hong.”
At Tae-seong’s subtle nod, Kim Dae-hong swiftly moved to clamp a hand over Han’s mouth. The stream of curses was cut off, but the muffled, guttural noises continued. A swarm of hulking men pinning a single man to the floor—the room now filled with thick, oppressive rage.
Through the middle of that chaos, Tae-seong calmly walked toward Ha-jin. The sudden closeness of his pheromone scent snapped Ha-jin back to his senses. When had he started sweating this much? His palms were soaked.
“Why don’t you step outside for a bit? Get a drink, take a breather.”
“Uh… sure.”
It was a polite way of saying, please leave the room. As Ha-jin stood up, Tae-seong turned to his secretary.
“Anything else outside?”
“The rest are down in the basement parking lot.”
The moment he heard the answer, he turned back to Ha-jin with a smile. And it had been a long time since Ha-jin had seen a smile that cold—it only made his nerves spike higher.
“You heard that? Don’t go down there. Grab your phone. I’ll call you.”
“…Okay. Got it.”
“You can go wait at my place, too.”
He whispered the last part so only Ha-jin could hear. Then Tae-seong gently nudged him on the back. His touch was warm, but the motion was firm—an unmistakable dismissal.
Once pushed out of the CEO’s office, Ha-jin turned without hesitation and walked away. He’d never witnessed anything this brutal in his past life while in Tae-seong’s office, but something instinctive urged him to move. Standing around, hesitating, felt like he’d hear something he’d never be able to forget.
That warehouse that smelled like the sea. The sacks and piles reeking of iron… Ha-jin shook the thoughts from his head and kept walking.
Taking the elevator down to the lobby, he exited through the emergency stairwell and headed toward the basement parking garage. He had no idea which level the “rest” of them were on, but figured he might spot something if he went down level by level.
He peeked out each stairwell door before heading down again. Finally, on basement level 4, Ha-jin found what he was looking for.
A group—clearly dragged here by President Han—was standing in a tense standoff with security guards. Oddly, things were quiet. Maybe they’d been told to wait. Or perhaps they never imagined President Han would be getting that kind of treatment upstairs.
Ha-jin scanned their faces, wondering if he recognized anyone—but quickly turned around. If anything, it was a relief. There wasn’t a single familiar face. Closing the door quietly behind him, he headed back up the stairs, heart pounding.
The tension reminded him of the feeling when he’d chased Kang Sung-oh down by the docks.
At least Dae-hong’s here this time. I’m probably not getting slapped. Don’t freak out.
Tae-seong had been the first to draw his sword in this corporate deathmatch, so chaos was to be expected. Maybe it was because Ha-jin had tipped him off about Kang Sung-oh, but compared to the past life, Tae-seong seemed much more on the ball this time.
Though… it did seem like the enemy side was going berserk every other day.
Should I buy a self-defense weapon or something?
As he climbed the stairs, heart full of anxious thoughts, his phone buzzed in his pocket.
[Hello. This is Kang Sung-oh—we met at the hospital. Are you available to talk right now?]
Incredibly, the very message he’d been waiting for had arrived.
***
“Where are we going?”
It wasn’t until they were already on the highway that Ha-jin finally asked. Tae-seong glanced over and gave a slight smile—like he was amused Ha-jin waited until now to bring it up.
“I thought you already knew. You’ve been awfully quiet.”
“Uh… there was nothing about this in the schedule Da-young sent me. Are we… going on a business trip?”
Even as he asked, Ha-jin tried not to let his unease show. He’d already made plans to meet Kang Sung-oh, and if this trip dragged on, it’d be a serious problem. He racked his brain, trying to remember if they’d gone on a trip around this time in his previous life, but everything was too jumbled now.
“It’s not a business trip. It’s vacation. Summer vacation—with you.”
Ah… so that’s why he brought a different car. Ha-jin glanced around the flashy, luxury vehicle, its interior practically glowing.
“…Where to?”
“Don’t worry, I already handled your brother.”
Thankfully, Tae-seong seemed to interpret Ha-jin’s troubled expression as concern for Yushin. And while that wasn’t wrong, Ha-jin’s head was far more preoccupied with his upcoming meeting.
This is why people shouldn’t lie…
The moment Kang Sung-oh contacted him, Ha-jin had made a decision. If he told Tae-seong the truth—that he was planning to meet Kang—he’d never allow it. Things had changed completely from when they first talked about working together. Just like how he’d made Han Sa-jang kneel without hesitation, he’d probably deal with Kang Sung-oh just as ruthlessly.
Ha-jin recalled what he’d seen when he returned to the office earlier. The tiny bloodstain on Tae-seong’s collar, the shattered glass window. And the faint smell of blood that still lingered in the CEO’s office.
He’d casually asked Da-young about the broken window, and she’d vaguely replied that “something got thrown wrong.” When he gave Dae-hong a look, the man awkwardly avoided eye contact. No one seemed to realize that their silence only fueled Ha-jin’s imagination.
Which is exactly why he couldn’t tell Tae-seong about Kang Sung-oh. Just like he couldn’t tell him that he’d already lived through the future once. Just like he couldn’t reveal that this meeting might hold crucial hints about the new drug.
Even if he did, would Tae-seong truly focus on the drug itself without questioning the rest? Highly doubtful. He’d dig and dig until he found the truth.
Ha-jin still vividly remembered the look on Tae-seong’s face when he learned he’d been betrayed.
He didn’t doubt Tae-seong’s feelings for him. But affection came in different weights for different people.
No one could love unconditionally to the point that broken trust didn’t matter.
“How long are we staying?”
“Why? Got other plans?”
“No…”
Ha-jin laced his fingers together. It wasn’t something he did consciously, but an instinctive reaction to hide his anxiety. Ironically, that seemed to draw more attention. Tae-seong reached over and gently took Ha-jin’s left hand, gripping it tightly as he kept driving. The sweat pooling in Ha-jin’s palm had nowhere to go.
“It’s just… your rut’s coming up, and you should be managing your condition. Travel wears you out, and, well… it’s hard to manage things properly in unfamiliar places.”
“The company wears me out more. And you’re here to handle the rest.”
Ha-jin fell silent, eyes darting away.
“And aren’t you super busy right now? Is it really okay to take a vacation?”
“Do I look like I personally do any of that shit? I left it to the people who’re actually good at it.”
With nothing left to say, Ha-jin closed his mouth. As the sun dipped low on the horizon, everything around them was bathed in a warm crimson hue. Tae-seong suddenly glanced at him.
“You do want to go, right?”
“…I really do.”
Ha-jin gave his hand a firm squeeze, putting sincerity into his words.
As they turned onto a country road, Tae-seong slowed the car and pressed a button—retracting the convertible roof. The hardtop folded back, and a breeze carrying the scent of trees swept over them.
Ha-jin brushed his windblown hair from his face and turned to look at him.
Tae-seong, his own hair tousled by the wind, was smiling as he looked back. Even though night had fallen, the area around him seemed lit up, as if he were glowing.
The road signs became sparse. The road narrowed and grew steeper. Though it was still summer, the secluded area sent a chill across Ha-jin’s arms. When Tae-seong turned and asked if he was scared, Ha-jin shook his head.
The night was filled with the sounds of birds and insects. When they reached the top of a ridge, the darkness was complete—he couldn’t see a thing. Ha-jin instinctively glanced around.
Then, Tae-seong brought the car to a stop and killed the engine.
Even the headlights went dark, plunging them into pitch-black silence.
Tae-seong wrapped his arm around Ha-jin’s shoulders and tilted his chin upward.
Above them, stars poured across the deep black sky—twinkling like a violet-tinted waterfall.
