As he jerked his chin toward the collapsed Se-yul, his quick-witted aide immediately moved. Carrying Se-yul’s limp body over his shoulder, the aide headed toward the nearest lounge.
While moving someone a full head taller than himself, the aide repeatedly sent desperate glances asking for help, but he ignored them all. He had no desire to touch Han Se-yul.
Upon arriving at the lounge, he forced out the people who had been inside and laid Se-yul down on the long sofa. In the meantime, Se-yul’s condition seemed to have worsened—his face had grown even paler.
“I… I’ll go get a doctor.”
Without even catching his breath, the aide hurried out of the lounge, leaving him alone with the unconscious Se-yul. As he sat across from Se-yul, he briefly averted his gaze and stared at the closed door instead.
Standing up, he stepped closer to Se-yul. Just as he was about to grab the sweat-drenched throat before him, he hesitated and withdrew his hand. No, he didn’t want to touch Han Se-yul even for a moment.
“You should’ve recovered by now.”
He lifted his foot and nudged Se-yul’s leg, but there was no response. After shaking him a few more times with his foot, he returned to his seat.
From a distance, he could clearly see the footprints left on Se-yul’s dark uniform. If Seo-yul saw this mess, it would only make him put up more walls instead of easing his heart. Seeing Han Se-yul suffer would only make Seo-yul more distressed.
Honestly, it would’ve been easier if he had just killed Se-yul instead of bothering with all these complications.
‘No, for now, I should be grateful that he’s alive.’
He had planned to quickly take care of this hassle and drive the two nuisances out of District 1, but things had gone awry. Letting out a deep sigh, he leaned back heavily against the sofa.
“I just want this to be over already.”
No matter how he looked at it, a week was far too long.
***
As soon as the Day of the District began, “Night” started moving in earnest. Since the crippled Apostle couldn’t act on his own, Yeo-min had to handle everything in his stead, which meant frequently leaving Seo-yul’s side.
The only saving grace was that Vincent Shining was also too busy to even catch his breath, meaning he couldn’t keep an eye on Yeo-min. Of course, it wasn’t complete freedom, but at least he could move unnoticed.
—We finally found the moon.
Perhaps the heavens were on their side; they had at last discovered the room with the generator within the vast mansion. Once they destroyed it at the scheduled time, District 1 would be plunged back into complete night.
For a fleeting moment, excitement stirred within him at the thought of finishing everything and returning to a normal life. But then, Yeo-min realized—there was still one thing left undone.
And it might just be the hardest and most troublesome task of all.
‘I need to tell him.’
Yeo-min stopped in his tracks on his way back to the bedroom, deep in thought. He had always known that at some point, he would have to tell Seo-yul that he was an Apostle of Night. But he had kept putting it off, unable to bring himself to say the words.
Whether by luck or misfortune, Seo-yul had never once asked how Yeo-min planned to get him out of the mansion. If he looked at it optimistically, it was because Seo-yul trusted him. But realistically? It was because he had no expectations at all.
The world viewed Night in two ways: some saw them as saviors who would return true night to them, while others considered them terrorists who wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice people for their cause.
Seo-yul, who had lived his whole life completely detached from District 1, was far more likely to see Night in the latter light rather than the former.
If he found out that Yeo-min was an Apostle of Night, would he still be willing to follow him?
‘This is complicated.’
Shaking off the throbbing in his head, Yeo-min resumed walking. He had already been away from Seo-yul’s side for too long—getting back to the bedroom was the priority. Even aside from Vincent Shining’s surveillance, the longer he left Seo-yul alone, the more anxious he felt.
‘Han Seo-yul?’
As he walked along the quiet hallway leading to the bedroom, skirting around the bustling banquet hall, he spotted Seo-yul standing in front of a room he had never seen before, glancing around suspiciously.
“Seo-yul-nim?”
Unable to hide his relief, he called out to Seo-yul, who flinched and turned to look at him, startled.
When Yeo-min met those wavering black eyes, he couldn’t suppress the grin that spread across his face.
Just before he stepped closer, he realized that he was smiling too brightly and adjusted his expression, lowering the corners of his lips slightly. Even so, he probably still looked like an idiot.
“What are you doing out here?”
“I just wanted to take a walk… I was feeling cooped up.”
Even though there were no guards outside, Seo-yul lied blatantly. And yet, as if feeling guilty, he avoided Yeo-min’s gaze and fidgeted with his fingers.
Every time he looked at Seo-yul, the emotions he tried so hard to leave unnamed only grew more vivid. Feelings he hadn’t experienced since childhood, back when he had no worries in the world, were suddenly overwhelming him.
Telling himself it was because Seo-yul was Han Se-yul’s brother, or because he felt sorry for him, or because he pitied him—none of those excuses worked anymore. Every time he saw Seo-yul, his emotions deepened beyond reason.
That was why he wanted to get Seo-yul out of here as soon as possible. Even if they had to spend the rest of their lives hiding in a place where Vincent Shining could never find them, he just wanted to be alone with Seo-yul.
“The District’s Day has made things chaotic outside. Let’s go back to the bedroom, okay?”
Naturally, he reached out his hand—but his fingers grasped only empty air. Seo-yul had instinctively stepped back.
Realizing this a moment too late, Seo-yul looked at Yeo-min, his expression a mix of surprise and hesitation.
“…Sorry. I shouldn’t have reached for you like that.”
Yeo-min quickly apologized. He had never once tried to touch Seo-yul without permission before, but just now, he had been too excited and had acted without thinking.
“No, it’s not that. I was just… startled.”
But the way Seo-yul hesitated, the way the boundary between them had been so clearly drawn—it was more than just surprise. Even so, Yeo-min pretended not to notice.
Without meeting Seo-yul’s eyes, he turned his back and started walking toward the bedroom.
Vincent Shining’s room, tucked away in the deepest corner of the mansion, was oppressively silent. Unless the windows were opened, not even the music echoing through the mansion could be heard from inside.
Yeo-min entered the room first, waiting for Seo-yul to follow. The moment Seo-yul stepped inside, Yeo-min shut the door behind him. With blackout curtains blocking all light, the bedroom was engulfed in darkness.
“I’ll turn on the light.”
Seo-yul fumbled along the wall for the light switch. Just as Yeo-min lifted his hand from the doorknob, he stepped in front of Seo-yul, blocking his path. Seo-yul’s fingertips briefly brushed against the back of Yeo-min’s hand, which now covered the switch.
“Choi Yeo-min?”
Seo-yul called his name. Even in the pitch-black darkness, Yeo-min could picture his face with perfect clarity. Swallowing the emotions surging within him, he spoke in a calm, steady voice.
“If you leave this place, you’ll have to spend the rest of your life in hiding. And because I helped you, I’ll have to do the same.”
He wasn’t saying it outright, but the meaning was clear: Seo-yul would have to spend all of his remaining years with him. Yeo-min had made sure to remind him of this again and again—how they would be alone together, for years, until the world finally settled down.
And yet, if Seo-yul still chose to follow him, if he willingly picked him despite knowing all this…
“…I know.”
After a brief silence, Seo-yul finally answered. His gaze dropped, breaking eye contact.
Yeo-min reached out, gently lifting Seo-yul’s chin so their eyes met once again. At the same time, he pressed down firmly on the switch his hand had been covering.
The room instantly flooded with light, revealing them both in sharp clarity. No longer concealed by the darkness, the emotions Yeo-min had struggled to suppress were now undeniable. He could no longer ignore the name of the feelings that had taken root inside him.
“So, if you’re choosing to follow me… does that mean you’re choosing me over Vincent?”
“…What?”
Seo-yul’s eyes widened in shock.
Letting go of the wall, Yeo-min stepped toward him. Seo-yul flinched and instinctively retreated, but it didn’t take long for Yeo-min to close the distance.
“Ch-Choi Yeo-min?”
Seo-yul stumbled back until his back hit the door. Yeo-min stood in front of him, gazing into those trembling black eyes. Tilting his head slightly, his eyes drifted downward—fixating on Seo-yul’s slightly parted lips.
Just as he was about to close his eyes and lean in, a small, trembling hand touched his shoulder.
“This… this is too much.”
Seo-yul’s voice was barely above a whisper as he pushed Yeo-min away.
It was such a weak push—so light that he could have easily resisted.
But Yeo-min had no choice but to step back.
One step. Then another. The distance between them grew.
Holding onto the last shreds of reason that had finally returned to him, Yeo-min spoke.
“…I’m sorry.”
The desire to touch him had become far too overwhelming. He should have stopped it before it got to this point. But by the time he realized it, he had already fallen too deep.
