Over the face of a child grinning as if he were the happiest in the world, fragments of Nabin’s own childhood memories overlapped. He too… had once laughed that way, holding his father’s hand, innocent of the shadowy misfortune that lay in wait for him. There had been a time when he sang along to his father’s favorite song, stamping his feet as if he could soar into the sky, while clasping his mother’s hand that had joined theirs.
Tears stung his eyes as those memories—torn and blood-soaked—flashed through his mind. He rubbed at his damp lashes with the back of his hand.
“…Kim Nabin.”
That voice—there was no mistaking it.
Nabin flinched and lifted his head, glancing around in alarm. He thought he’d never hear that voice again. It was rougher now than it had been in his memories, but the deep masculine timbre made it instantly recognizable.
Other than the distant sight of a gentle father walking with his child, there was no one else around. As he stiffly turned his head toward the rear—
“Ghhhk…”
Before he even finished turning, a massive hand closed around his neck, pressing hard enough to snap it.
“It’s been a long time. Judging by your face, you’ve been doing well.”
The one who had come for him was Kim Minsu. Nabin couldn’t breathe—not only because of the crushing grip at his throat, but also from the sheer terror of those eyes glaring down at him, brimming with murderous intent.
Tears spilled unbidden, dread dripping down his cheeks like cold dew. He hadn’t seen this man since the day the Center pulled him from that half-destroyed car.
Even after their separation, the fear never left him. He lived with the constant dread that Kim Minsu would appear before him again. As if reading that fear, Kim Su-hyun had once reassured him not to worry—that Minsu had been dealt with, that he would never bother him again.
Hearing that, Nabin had half-convinced himself that Minsu must have died. But Kim Minsu was alive. And now, he was here.
His appearance had changed so drastically that Nabin might not have recognized him if not for that voice, seared into his memory like a brand. A long scar cut across the hollow where his right eye had once been, leaving him glaring with his single eye, locked unblinking on Nabin.
“Le… let… me g—hhhk…”
His lungs burned. He clawed at the back of the hand crushing his throat, but Minsu’s arm was unyielding, immovable.
Only when Nabin’s eyes rolled back did Minsu finally loosen his grip.
“Uhhk—cough, cough!”
Air rushed back into his lungs. Nabin doubled over, coughing violently. The nightmare of his past had come alive before his eyes. Kim Minsu—the man who had scarred him with torment that would never fade.
He was the one who had dragged him into despair before he’d even reached adulthood. The one who had forced himself on him barely after his twentieth birthday. The one who seemed to exist solely to break him, inflicting pain upon him over and over.
Nabin scrambled back, desperate to get away. But a rough arm snatched him and yanked him close, trapping him inside Minsu’s chest.
Looking into those wide, terrified eyes, Minsu dragged his tongue slowly up Nabin’s tear-soaked cheek.
“Khhnn…”
“You can’t possibly know… how much I’ve missed you.”
The taste of his skin after so long made Minsu’s heart thunder wildly, a drumbeat of rage and desire.
He was his. From the very first moment, Nabin had belonged to him. If the Center thought to take him away, then Minsu was prepared to defy both the Center and the country itself.
He had ignored the Center’s summons, fleeing with Nabin. But when the Center’s pursuit closed in, one of his men had panicked and crashed into a guardrail.
When he came to, Nabin was gone. He tried to rally his men and resources to find him again—but then an Esper stormed his hideout.
Minsu had survived countless street brawls, but between an ordinary man and an Esper stood an insurmountable wall. Even with black market weapons, it hadn’t been enough.
Had it been a mere D-rank or C-rank, he would have torn the Esper’s throat out alive. But this one… even after pouring every ounce of strength into the fight, Minsu couldn’t withstand him.
That blade had taken his eye, and his most loyal men had died. Hammer had sacrificed himself to open an escape route, and Minsu barely fled with his life.
He had lost everything. When he returned, half-healed, scavengers were already fighting over his throne. Chaos reigned.
The men who would once have died for him were gone. The rest were spineless dogs groveling to whoever now held power. He knew they’d gladly cut off his head to curry favor with their new master.
He couldn’t even get close to Nabin. He had to start again from nothing, clawing his way back up. And by the time he reclaimed a foothold, Espers were already swarming around Nabin.
Had he used his allure? Couldn’t he keep his hands to himself? High-ranking Espers hovered at his side day and night, denying Minsu any chance.
He couldn’t enter the Center freely, so he lingered instead around the ward where Nabin’s mother was hospitalized, cloaked in an Artifact that erased his presence, waiting for a chance.
Nabin would surely come. He’d visit his mother, and on some day, he would step out into the park.
But that chance never came. Even in the park, an Esper always shadowed him—keen enough to sense Minsu even through his cloaking.
Most often it was the red-haired one. Sometimes the blond. They were so sharp he couldn’t even look at Nabin directly. More than once, their piercing stares cut through his hiding place as if they’d felt his gaze, forcing him to retreat.
But today… today was different.
For the first time, Nabin sat alone on a bench. Holding his breath, Minsu checked and rechecked. No Espers.
And here, in this secluded place, no one would think it strange if he approached. At last, that slender, delicate neck was within his grasp.
The more he squeezed, the more Nabin thrashed in panic—so beautiful, he wanted to preserve it forever. Nabin had lived and breathed all this time without him, yet only now, reunited, did Minsu feel he could breathe again. Each gasp filled his chest like air after drowning.
The craving surged—he wanted to push Nabin down then and there, tear into him. He could see that flushed, tear-stained face gasping, sobbing, begging for breath.
But… not now. He had to wait. The time wasn’t right. If he took Nabin now, the Espers who thought they owned him would chase him down.
Soon. The chance would come soon. Until then… just for a little while, he would let him go.
“Wait for me. I’ll come back for you. Until then… don’t forget. Look at the mark I’ve left, and remember—you belong to me.”
“Ahhh…”
Minsu sank his teeth into the side of Nabin’s neck, biting down hard on the reddened flesh until blood welled and ran. The sharp pain wracked him, but Nabin could only weep helplessly.
With lips smeared in blood, Minsu pressed a kiss to his cheek, then vanished as suddenly as he had come.
“Hhhhk… hahh…”
Even after he was gone, Nabin couldn’t regain his senses. He clawed at his ears where that voice had brushed, at his skin where those hands had touched, scratching so hard he nearly tore himself apart.
Passersby froze, horrified by the sight of him raking at his flesh until blood welled beneath his nails.
“Are you alright?”
“Should I call the Center? Looks like you were attacked…”
But even as they tried to approach, Nabin curled in on himself, convulsing in terror.
“Hi… hiiik… I-I’m sorry… I won’t… I won’t do it again…”
His pitiful trembling unsettled them. Even those who stepped forward soon hurried away down their own paths.
Nabin curled up, burying his face into his knees, hands clamped over his ears. The skin already raw from scratching now bled in thin crimson lines, droplets beading across them.
“No… no… He can’t be alive…”
He muttered like a madman, trying to deny it. But the bruises around his throat and the bite marks still dripping blood made it clear—what had just happened… was real.
