Tae Woon, nestled sweetly against Sibaek with an arm draped over his shoulder, made no move to let go even after they returned to the penthouse. It was painfully obvious he intended to milk this opportunity for all it was worth. But after what Sibaek had seen earlier, he couldn’t bring himself to shove him away coldly.
[Death and Beauty shuts her eyes tightly, saying this is too much to witness.]
Lord Biendeoé was so flustered, even her retreat into the room looked clumsy and unstable. With a quiet sigh, Sibaek patted Tae Woon’s butt.
“What are you talking about? Why would I ever abandon you?”
“You disappeared out of nowhere. No one knew where you went, your phone was off, and everyone said they had no clue where you were…”
“My phone was off?”
Startled, Sibaek checked his phone and found it dead. The battery must’ve drained while he was attending that one-day class.
He quickly gave the powered-off phone a shake.
“I went out for a quest, and I guess the battery died while I was gone.”
Only then did the tension ease from Tae Woon’s face. A sheepish smile crept in.
“I was worried you might leave for good… maybe move into a dorm or something.”
“Huh? Wh-what?”
“Oh—maybe I’m overthinking. You wouldn’t just leave home without saying anything, right?”
“……”
“You wouldn’t abandon me in this big house and go hole up in some tiny dorm, right?”
“……”
“I’ve gotten used to living here—with you. No way you’d leave all that behind and move into a dorm, right? Ha ha.”
“R-right…”
That bright, innocent smile twisted a dagger of guilt straight through Sibaek’s conscience. He’d been searching for the right time to bring up the whole dorm issue—but now clearly wasn’t it. Looked like Yang Eunho had tipped Tae Woon off about something…
Avoiding eye contact, Sibaek quickly shifted the topic.
“Anyway, don’t go putting in eyedrops for no reason. I really thought you were crying earlier—you scared the hell out of me.”
For once, Tae Woon actually looked caught off guard.
“…How did you know?”
“Come on, you think I don’t know you?”
Tae Woon had often looked like he was about to cry around Sibaek as a kid, but he’d never actually shed tears. Except once—just once. The day he’d covered his tiny hands in blood trying to save Sibaek.
Quietly, Tae Woon pulled the eyedrops from his jacket pocket and tossed them onto the floor, clearing his throat.
“My heart was crying blood, but I guess my tear ducts are all dried up. I even poked my thigh—nothing came out.”
“You haven’t cried since you were fourteen?”
“Not even the night my parents died, probably.”
The playful exaggeration from earlier vanished. In its place was a faint, quiet smile. Tae Woon had no memories before the age of five. More precisely, everything leading up to his parents’ murder at Tae Chul-hoon’s hands was cut off in a strange, unnatural blank. Most likely trauma from witnessing the scene.
When Sibaek’s face darkened, Tae Woon simply shrugged, calm and composed—not pretending, but genuinely unaffected.
“That was a long time ago.”
“…Yeah.”
He’d said enough—no need to force the past back into the light. Sibaek let out a breath and ruffled Tae Woon’s hair. The younger man didn’t seem keen to dwell on it either and quickly changed the subject.
“Right, the Research Department asked for help with an experiment. Want to try it with me?”
“What kind of experiment?”
“There’s a plant-type monster that looks like a cornelian cherry tree. You’ve heard of it, right? Grows up to about three meters tall.”
“Oh, the one with the flowers and fruit that cause hallucinations?”
“Yeah. They distilled it into alcohol and want to see how it affects A- and S-rankers.”
The hallucinations weren’t addictive or brain-damaging like drugs. They simply showed the drinker a brief vision of something they deeply desired. Mak Slechth had even used it in therapeutic treatment.
Same concept on Earth, though the approach seemed a bit different.
“They’ve been researching mental-affecting monsters like crazy here, trying to find ways to suppress Eid Portals. I don’t know all the details, but this stuff should hit harder than what you had in Mak Slechth. And it’s pretty strong booze.”
“Well, it’s just monster extract either way.”
Confident in his Divine Power, which naturally countered monster energy, Sibaek answered without hesitation. Tae Woon immediately disappeared into the study and returned with two wine-sized bottles.
They weren’t planning to drink much—just enough for the test—so they didn’t bother with any snacks. Opening the bottles, they poured the vivid green liquid into wine glasses. Sibaek downed his in one gulp.
Just like Tae Woon had said, the alcohol hit like a truck. A searing heat flared up from his throat in an instant.
Damn, that’s strong.
His face flushed instantly, and he started fanning his cheek. He could already guess what he’d see. After all, the Fragment of Longing he’d received as a quest reward had shown him a young Tae Woon.
Expecting the same cute, bright-eyed child to appear again, Sibaek turned to look—only to freeze, breath caught in his chest.
It was Tae Woon from that night.
Hair tousled from the prolonged battle. Wounds scattered across his body.
The same Tae Woon who had fought so desperately that night—standing right there in front of him.
Tae Woon watched as Kim Sibaek downed his glass in one shot—so he followed suit.
Nothing happened.
Which, honestly, wasn’t surprising.
His body had long grown desensitized to substances. It took an entire bottle of espresso to feel even the faintest kick of caffeine—so a magical hallucinogenic brew? Barely a blip.
He’d never tried this exact liquor before, but from the moment he brought it out as a distraction, he’d already suspected it wouldn’t work on him.
What really unsettled him wasn’t the lack of effect.
It was that he already knew exactly what vision of Kim Sibaek he longed to see.
That maybe, just maybe, his selfish, delusional heart had already twisted Sibaek into something he wasn’t.
For a second, he considered bluffing—pretending to see something vague or harmless. But instead, he raised the bottle to his lips and chugged the whole thing.
Whatever kind of person he was, the truth wouldn’t change just because he looked away from it.
The liquor went down as easily as water. It didn’t even burn—it just sloshed down his throat, smooth and numbing.
Only after finishing the entire bottle did he start to feel even the faintest tinge of intoxication.
Tae Woon roughly rubbed his face, then turned—ready to face whatever ugliness was hiding inside him.
And he saw it.
The vision that had pierced through his shattered mind the night Kim Sibaek treated his wounds.
Back then, for just a moment, it had been blindingly clear. Crystal sharp. A single point of clarity in a night full of chaos.
And at the center of it… was him.
Kim Sibaek.
“……”
Even seeing it for the second time, the impact hit just as hard.
Dazed, breathless, Tae Woon reached out and gently traced Sibaek’s face with his fingertips—like he never wanted to forget a single detail.
Like it might be the last time.
By the time he came to, his tongue was already sliding across Sibaek’s lips, tasting the breath between them.
His expression twisted in guilt.
Trying to hide it, he pulled Sibaek in tightly, burying his face in the man’s shoulder.
I just… wanted to see him again. Just one more time.
He tilted his head, brushing their lips together again. The feeling had become familiar—comforting, even.
But this kiss was different.
This time, Sibaek knew.
He didn’t flinch. Didn’t stop him.
His hands, so gentle and deliberate, cupped Tae Woon’s face—memorizing it. His fingers brushed down, traced over lips, then cradled his cheek. And then, slowly, his breath—his mouth—leaned in.
When Tae Woon’s tongue coaxed at his lips, Sibaek didn’t resist. He opened them willingly.
That decision—that surrender—was entirely his own.
A sliver of reason flared up, warning him to stop.
But just like that night… the hunger—the desperation—snapped its jaws around him again.
The kiss wasn’t long.
Tae Woon swallowed a shaky moan and wrapped his arms around him. Sibaek, catching his breath, bit down lightly on his lower lip.
His face was flushed—and not just from the alcohol.
If Tae Woon hadn’t pulled away when he did… things might’ve spiraled out of control.
Their breaths, warm and sweet, finally began to settle.
Trying to keep his cool, Sibaek glanced away.
Only then did he really notice the smell of the alcohol lingering in the air.
It wasn’t just strong. Something about it was off.
Subtly different notes—two distinct scents.
Sibaek reached around Tae Woon’s waist, plucked the empty bottle from where it lay, and examined it.
The kid, who supposedly couldn’t handle liquor, had downed the whole thing like it was juice.
He tipped the bottle and tasted the small bit that remained—and immediately grimaced.
“Woon-ah… this liquor—don’t tell me it was brewed separately from male and female flowers?”
Tae Woon finally lifted his head.
Luckily, the hallucination had already passed.
…Though a brand new problem might’ve just emerged.
“There’s… a difference between male and female flowers?”
His face was blank with confusion.
For a moment, Sibaek wondered if he’d planned this on purpose.
But no—that look was way too genuine.
He really didn’t know.
Sibaek groaned and pressed a hand to his forehead.
