The warmth that had lingered on his hand faded, leaving it cold. His fingers, now stained only with the scent of blood, slipped away and fell limply to the ground.
The flame-colored eyes that had always looked at me were now hidden beneath long lashes, refusing to appear. Was he just sleeping out of exhaustion? Well, today had been a long day.
“Vincent-nim!”
The aide shouted and shook him desperately. He was just asleep—so why was everyone acting like it was so serious? I reached out and stopped the aide.
“He’s sleeping.”
“What?”
“Move.”
I pushed aside the dazed aide and held him in my arms. Even with my arms stretched as far as they could go, he didn’t fit entirely within my embrace. The child who had once been so small had grown this much—only now did it truly hit me.
With every breath I took, his scent filled the air, reminiscent of flowers waiting for the moonlight. I closed my eyes and pressed my cheek against his forehead. He was ice-cold.
“You’re just sleeping, right?”
I asked, but no answer came. No voice calling my name, no sound of his soft, steady breaths. It wasn’t even cold in here, yet his body was growing colder. I tightened my arms around him.
“This isn’t right. You’re not someone who would die from something like this.”
Among everyone I had ever known, there wasn’t a single person stronger than him. A Shining wouldn’t die from something like this—I knew that better than anyone. I had read it, seen it for myself.
I was worrying for nothing. He was just tired and had fallen asleep, his body cooling because the night had grown colder. It was only the unfamiliar sight of him like this that made me uneasy.
There’s nothing wrong. It’s just my own anxiety. Please, let it be just that.
“Call a doctor immediately!”
The aide, wiping away his tears, barked the order. Those who had been paralyzed with shock quickly snapped into motion, moving with efficiency.
The ones who brought the stretcher tried to take him from me. I resisted, refusing to let go, but their strength overpowered mine, prying me away.
“No… No, you can’t.”
All that remained with me after he disappeared was his cooling blood. I clenched my hands, but not even a trace of warmth lingered. A creeping fear began to take hold of me.
“Shining, Vincent, Vin…”
I called him by every name I knew. The truth was, I had never been able to decide what to call him. He had always been nothing but chaos to me.
I resented him, I hated him—but just as much, I longed for him, I cared for him. I never knew what to call this feeling, so I had tried not to think about it at all.
But now, watching him die, I finally understood. I knew what this feeling was. I realized just how much he had occupied my thoughts. And if I were to tell him now, would he say it was too late?
“Seo-yul hyung!”
I heard someone calling me. When I turned around, I saw Choi Yeo-min running toward me. He didn’t look much different from me—just as much of a mess.
Everything was in ruins. Me, Choi Yeo-min, him, this entire situation. How did it come to this?
“Ugh…”
Suddenly, a searing pain tore through my chest. My legs, which had barely been holding me up, buckled beneath me, and my body collapsed completely. The agony spread so fiercely that I couldn’t even breathe.
‘This…’
At first, I thought it was my heart that hurt, but no—it was radiating outward from the spot where my mark was. Hadn’t Helen once said it before? That a mark meant you were connected to someone.
And when it burned like this, as if it were being scorched, it meant something terrible had happened to the one you were connected to. Something life-threatening.
“Hyung!!”
My vision started to darken. Choi Yeo-min’s desperate voice, the metallic scent of blood with every breath I took, the clamor of people’s voices—all of it was fading away.
As my ragged breathing slowed to a stop, the pain from the mark gradually dulled as well. Even as my consciousness slipped further and further away, I could feel it.
The connection between us was fading.
Vincent Shining was dead.
***
“Vincent Shining is dead?”
The first to hear the news of the death of the strongest Shining and the most likely successor to District 1 was Jeremy. Of course, that was only natural.
After all, it was Jeremy himself who had sent the assassins to the district’s borders to kill him.
But thinking about it logically, Vincent Shining wasn’t someone who would die so easily. So Jeremy asked again. And again. But his subordinate’s answer never changed.
“We confirmed the death.”
Jeremy lifted his hand and covered his twitching lips, dismissing the subordinate who had finished reporting. Left alone, he forced himself to calm the surging emotions within him.
‘He’s really dead… isn’t he?’
It was hard to tell whether this was a dream or reality. Of course, it would be—this was Vincent Shining. Even if all the other Shining had come at him at once, they still wouldn’t have been able to defeat him. That was what made this so unbelievable.
But no matter how many times he asked, his subordinate’s answer remained the same. He was dead. Jeremy decided to accept it as reality.
Vincent Shining was finally dead!
Jeremy shot to his feet and headed straight for Joshua’s room. The only person he could share this joy with was, of course, his one and only brother.
Upon reaching Joshua’s room, Jeremy didn’t bother seeking permission—he simply pushed the door open. A thick haze of smoke spilled out from within.
Waving a hand to clear the lingering scent in the air, Jeremy strode toward the bed. Pulling aside the long, draped curtains, he found Joshua lying there in his usual composed posture.
Ever since that day, Joshua hadn’t left his bed. He neither closed his eyes nor fully opened them, as if something inside him had broken. To this unresponsive brother, Jeremy delivered the good news.
“Joshua, Vincent is dead.”
“……”
“I killed Vincent.”
“……”
“I did what you couldn’t do!”
The moment he had wished for so desperately had finally come, yet Joshua showed no reaction at all.
Climbing onto the bed, Jeremy couldn’t contain his excitement and wrapped his arms around his stiff, unmoving brother. The more he held onto that powerless body, the more a deep sense of fulfillment surged within him.
Only then did the laughter he had been holding back burst forth. His laughter rang through the quiet room.
“Joshua, I told you, didn’t I? That I’d give you what you wanted.”
If Joshua had been in his right mind, what would he have said? He would have probably dismissed this victory as insignificant, telling Jeremy not to get ahead of himself. Though this was far from ‘insignificant,’ Joshua was the type who would say something like that without hesitation.
This was only the beginning. But now that the most bothersome person was dead, half the work was already done. Next, he would kill every remaining Shining in the mansion.
He would make it so that only Joshua and himself were the last surviving Shining in the world.
He would give Joshua the position of District Head that he so desperately desired, and Jeremy would stand behind him, supporting his lacking brother. Of course, ‘support’ was just a nice way of putting it—in the end, he was the one who would truly take control of the district in place of his foolish brother.
“Mother should have lived to see this.”
Unfortunately, Joshua and Jeremy’s mother had passed away long ago.
To be precise, none of the District Head’s concubines had survived for long. They either took their own lives or wasted away, succumbing to illness of the heart. That was what it meant to be just one of many.
Jeremy only felt a slight sense of regret.
He had both loved and resented his mother. She had adored Joshua far more than she ever had him, simply because his colors were deeper.
Rising slowly, Jeremy gazed down at his slumbering brother. He reached out, brushing aside Joshua’s tousled hair—only to suddenly grip it tightly, unable to suppress the fury simmering within him.
“Pitiful Joshua. If you had only respected me just a little more, I wouldn’t have had to go this far. If you had at least thought of me as your brother… I never would have done this.”
Something dropped. It took Jeremy a moment to realize that they were his own tears.
How strange. There was nothing sad about this moment, yet he was crying. He was overjoyed—so why was he crying?
Leaning down, Jeremy embraced his beloved brother once more.
With each breath, the familiar scent of Joshua filled his lungs, bringing him an odd sense of peace.
Joshua would live like this for the rest of his life—completely helpless, unable to do anything without him.
And Jeremy liked him that way.
When he finally let go, strands of vibrantly colored hair scattered onto the bed.
Jeremy cupped Joshua’s lifeless face, running his fingers gently over his waxen, rigid skin.
“Congratulations, Joshua. This district is yours now.”
