…No. That can’t be right.
Sure, morning wood was normal for guys, and yeah, Tae Woon wasn’t wearing his usual tailored suit pants but some loose homewear, so there was less fabric to hide anything. Even so, this couldn’t be what it looked like. It didn’t make sense. No human should be that size.
It’s his arm. Definitely just his arm.
Right. Sometimes when you sleep, your arm slips under the blanket and ends up between your legs—it happens. Clinging to that desperate excuse, Kim Sibaek tried to get up quickly. But the arm wrapped tightly around his waist didn’t budge.
“Sibaek hyung…”
And then, as if things weren’t bad enough, Tae Woon murmured his name in this soft, dreamy voice and snuggled in even closer. Their bodies pressed together. What had to be Tae Woon’s arm—yes, let’s go with that—pushed between Sibaek’s thighs, dragging right along his overly sensitive groin thanks to his own unfortunate morning condition.
“……!”
A silent scream caught in Sibaek’s throat. The pressure was too direct, too much. His nerves were already on edge, and now they were frying. What the hell was he supposed to do? How could he escape this—this—without waking Tae Woon?
As he froze, panicking, Tae Woon let out a content hum and buried his face into Sibaek’s chest. His weight shifted again, and their bodies pressed in even tighter. Especially down there. Their underwear couldn’t do a damn thing to hide how hard they both were, and now they were flush against each other, no space left between.
Shit…
Sibaek went pale, then paler, until he was practically gray. If it’d just been a graze, he could’ve pretended it didn’t happen. But this? This was full contact. And the thick, hard shape poking into him—no, digging into him—left zero room for denial.
And if Tae Woon woke up now? That would take this disaster to a whole new level.
Desperate not to let that happen, Sibaek tried twisting out of his grip. Huge mistake.
Tae Woon, half-asleep and still hugging him like a pillow, frowned and pulled him in tighter. Their legs tangled, thighs locking even closer. Now it wasn’t just the shaft pressing against him—he could feel the full, rounded shape of Tae Woon’s balls too. They were heavy and full, and the way they pressed against his own cock had Sibaek seeing stars.
“Hnng…”
A weak moan slipped out before he could stop it. He slapped a hand over his mouth, horrified. But it was too late. He’d already heard it. He felt it.
He couldn’t even think straight, much less come up with something rational like “Just push his arm off and get out of bed.” Completely flustered, Kim Sibaek finally—
BANG!
Punched the mattress.
The impact shattered the bedframe with a sharp crack. The mattress barely softened the blow. With a series of thuds and creaks, the bed legs gave out completely.
CRASH! BANG!
The entire bed collapsed.
“…Hmm?”
Jerked awake by the sudden drop, Tae Woon’s eyes flew open. Strangely sharp for someone who’d just been dead asleep. He looked at the broken bed. Then at Sibaek—face flushed, avoiding his gaze. Then at the arm still wrapped around Sibaek’s waist. His expression darkened.
Tae Woon closed his eyes in sheer disappointment.
“I didn’t dream of fucking you…”
“…It’s not what you think.”
“I mean, sometimes you’re just going at it and the bed breaks, right? Don’t be too shocked. Ugh… Why can’t I remember any of it? Did I do okay? Even if I sucked, come on—cut me some slack. I was asleep. I’ll do better next time.”
“I said it’s not like that.”
“Wait, you were the one who fucked me? Damn, hyung… that hip strength of yours… I’m into it.”
“……”
Grinding his teeth, Kim Sibaek shoved off Tae Woon’s arm and pointedly looked away from the… other arm still wedged between his legs. Then he got up from the ruined bed. Tae Woon gave him this shy little smile, then mimed holding something in one hand and gave it a few suggestive jerks.
“Still, hyung… shouldn’t you at least finish before you go?”
“……”
The only answer was the loud slam of the door. Hopefully he hadn’t broken the damn thing off its hinges too—he’d have to check later.
As soon as Kim Sibaek left, the smile vanished from Tae Woon’s face like it’d never been there. He pressed his palm hard against his temple and leaned his head back onto the ruined mattress. From the tilted angle of the collapsed bed, the ceiling above seemed to twist and warp like it was spinning.
He’d dreamed it too.
That future they should’ve had. The one where everything unfolded the way it was supposed to.
“Tch…”
A bitter scoff slipped through his teeth—silent, but crashing inside like a wave. Between his fingers, twisted across his face, the madness and guilt came flooding out.
So, hyung…
You shouldn’t have saved me.
You should’ve let me die.
***
The patient who’d been lying in bed all day got up the second his caretaker, Kim Sibaek, left the room. Watching that, Yang Eunho’s eyes went flat with disbelief.
“Seriously?”
“…It’s nothing.”
If only his eyes were detachable—he’d have popped them out right then and there. Suppressing the urge to scream, Eunho carried on with the report Tae Woon hadn’t gotten yesterday. It was the summary of Na Jungwoo’s interrogation.
After hearing everything, Tae Woon waved a hand to dismiss him, and Eunho quickly retreated to the office.
Now alone in the spacious house, Tae Woon’s expression darkened. According to what Kim Sibaek told him yesterday, the one who had manipulated Na Jungwoo’s mind was Edokers—a Paladin of Chaos from Mak Slechth.
“Why the hell would you keep someone like that a secret?”
Things were quiet now, but Chaos was bound to be watching him. And sure enough, the moment he directed the question into the air, a voice echoed through his head.
[That one is but a shattered vessel. Too pitiful to pose any real threat to you.]
“So what—you didn’t bring him over from Mak Slechth just to screw me over?”
[The Origin was omnipotent, but when Infinity and Purity took root, the gods that split from it were no longer so. Had we been omnipotent, we would never have lost. Mak Slechth would be ours.]
“……”
[Child, consider this—what have we done in this world for your sake? Even as we exhausted ourselves to bring the Apostle of the Young God here, would we have wasted what little strength we had just to torment you with a broken vessel?]
For my sake, huh. Tae Woon let out a bitter laugh. That hellish stretch of years—was that what they were calling kindness now?
Reading the emotion at the surface of his thoughts, Chaos let out a knowing chuckle.
[It was only because of the time we gave you that you were able to meet the Apostle of the Young God. Who else could have saved you from the fate of dying at five years old?]
“Yeah. And because of that, Sibaek-hyung’s life went to hell.”
Tae Woon spat each word like it burned on the way out. He wanted nothing more than to crush the voice in his head—to tear it out of his mind and grind it into nothing—but he knew all too well it wouldn’t make a difference.
Swallowing the self-destructive rage, Tae Woon forced himself to refocus. So—Edokers showing up at the amusement park? Pure accident. A complete fluke. But ultimately, it had worked out. It raised Kim Sibaek’s profile and wrapped up neatly enough.
What didn’t work out was him getting taken out by Na Jungwoo’s poison. That was on him. He clicked his tongue and dug his fingers into the scar on his left cheek.
Even if Xiangliu’s venom had been inevitable, he couldn’t afford to let Sibaek see this.
Unforeseen variables were dangerous. He’d gone to obsessive lengths to build a seamless backstory and control every piece of the puzzle. But then someone showed up who hadn’t even been on the board.
What pissed him off most wasn’t the plan falling apart.
It was that the bastard had triggered Sibaek’s trauma, even if only for a second.
That was unforgivable.
He’d find that bastard and kill him. That thought was already weighing the scale in his heart when Chaos spoke again.
[Absorb it.]
“…What?”
[It is merely a fragment, but it has shed its humanity. Take it in, and you may find it easier to control.]
Tae Woon glanced down at his left hand. He’d forcibly suppressed it while unconscious so Sibaek wouldn’t notice, but now the black was spreading again.
For a moment, the urge rose.
But he shook it off.
He couldn’t trust Chaos. Not after how long it had used him like a toy.
Still… it could come in handy.
After a moment’s hesitation, Tae Woon made a decision. He’d move Edokers somewhere he could keep him in sight.
***
[Death and Beauty says your god understands and offers you comfort.]
“I-I’m fine, really…”
[Death and Beauty pats your shoulder, saying these things happen when emotions run high.]
“I swear, I didn’t do anything wrong…”
[Death and Beauty gently insists—breaking a bed or two is just part of growing up.]
“I’m already grown…”
He should’ve erased that whole morning from memory. The last thing he needed was Biendeoé, who could read surface thoughts, picking up that scene.
Regret churning in his gut, Kim Sibaek made his way to the 7777 Guild’s Research Division. The research head was already waiting. Word had spread that Sibaek was preparing an antidote, and the research chief, curious about the unfamiliar formula, had asked to observe.
Biendeoé, still riding the high of being seen as a magical genius just for being in Earth’s sandbox, was flitting around the lab with unrestrained curiosity. Just then, the rest of the team arrived.
“W-wait, hyung! A new kind of magic?!”
That was Lee Hangyeol, who nearly shouted “Dad!” before catching Yang Eunho’s glare and dialing it back.
“Technically, it’s not magic. It’s from a different system altogether.”
“Whoa, what kind of system?”
“It’s powered by faith—”
“WHOA!”
While the research chief tactfully pretended not to hear the cult-adjacent phrase “powered by faith,” Hangyeol was practically bouncing with excitement.
With Tae Woon nowhere in sight, Hangyeol seized the chance to chat freely and took an instant liking to Kim Sibaek. Despite being well into his thirties, he still had the energy and mannerisms of the team’s baby, and it put Sibaek at ease.
The conversation wandered naturally—until it hit Justyna.
“She joined our shelter later, but we’d been working with her for a while before that. Even though Tae Woon-hyung was younger, everyone said he was more dependable than a whole squad of grown men. He even helped when Sarang was born—cut the umbilical cord himself!”
That caught Sibaek off guard. It didn’t match what Tae Woon had told him.
“Wait, didn’t Hunter Seo Gaeun cut the cord back then?”
