Going to a game shop was always a welcome idea.

But Senior Walker... why on earth would he go? He didn’t seem like someone who’d play games.

I was confused for a moment, then quickly composed myself.

Logically speaking, there was no rule saying someone like Walker couldn’t enjoy games. Everyone was equal before the screen.

I’d definitely say yes — no hesitation. But since it wasn’t urgent, I decided to reply later.

Still... pound cake had definitely been the wrong choice.

“How about fruit instead? Shine Muscat? Or something classic like apples?”

“Ah, this brat.”

Samuel clicked his tongue and turned to me.

“Unbelievable. You woke up with nothing to your name, and you’re still trying to buy people gifts?”

“You didn’t know? I actually made a fortune recently.”

“Huh?”

I told him about finding Martin and getting thirty million won from it.

Samuel’s eyes widened as he listened, then he burst into laughter.

“Hey, you’re actually adjusting pretty well.”

“Yes, thanks to you.”

“Since the unit’s founding, I’ve never seen anyone become a Badger the way you did, but... seems you’re doing fine.”

Wait a second.

“Since the founding?”

“Yeah? You didn’t know?”

Samuel looked as surprised as I felt, then snorted as if it made sense.

The doctor, who looked to be in his mid-forties, stuck one hand into the pocket of his coat.

“Guess Yun didn’t tell you?”

“No, not at all.”

“That kid barely talks even when he should.”

Kid? Yun?

That word just didn’t fit my superior. Even among the Choi family, Yun never gave off a “younger” vibe. Though, technically, he was the youngest of the Choi brothers.

Ah, right — Yun had promised to tell me about his past. During the assembly, when we were killing time, he said if I was curious, he’d share more than just the fact that he’d been adopted at twelve.

And Yehyeon, too, had said he’d tell me everything. I’d missed so many stories; it stung to think about it.

If it hadn’t been for Jaeyeon, everything could have gone peacefully. Frowning, I recalled the events before I lost my memory.

Still, I didn’t lose track of the conversation.

“Doctor, if that’s the case, may I ask your age?”

“Don’t say age like that, kid. Just say ‘how old.’ I’m about nine years older than Yun.”

What.

“You’re a Badger?”

“My body is. Think of it like John Mühlen’s case. I refused enhancement during the First War — insisted on staying normal — but they got me during the Second. Still don’t understand why I needed an Enhanced Body just to be a doctor.”

I stared at him blankly.

That meant he had been in his mid-thirties when the war broke out. He must have seen it unfold, lived through the chaos, and survived it.

I had been around before the war too, but I remembered nothing of it — not even that it had ended.

What had I been doing back then?

I was lost in thought when the doctor, tapping on his tablet, turned and looked down at me.

After a short silence, he asked,

“You came in with Yehyeon, didn’t you? Looks like you’ve gotten mixed up with the bastard who keeps turning him into a rag every few months. Things had been quiet for years.”

“This kind of thing’s been happening for a while?”

My voice jumped. Samuel sighed — which was basically a yes.

I was speechless. Even knowing how violent and cruel Jaeyeon could be, it still shocked me.

Yeah... Jaeyeon hated everything, including himself. But as far as I remembered, he’d never obsessed over one person this much.

Even if he had, they wouldn’t have lasted long.

Yehyeon should have died long ago too — except Colton must have interfered. Something had clearly happened after Yehyeon became Commander.

Samuel watched my stunned face and exhaled heavily.

“I don’t know who that guy really is, but don’t get too deep with him. And if you already are, be careful.”

“What about the Commander?”

“He was discharged yesterday.”

That fast?

I blinked in surprise. Samuel snorted.

“You slept for two days straight. Didn’t know?”

“Seriously? I was totally fine.”

Apparently, aside from the head injury and the shoulder wound, I was in good shape.

After a brief checkup, Samuel said I could be discharged within a few hours. It was the first time anyone had told me I could leave early — I couldn’t help smiling. 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

The stubborn doctor clicked his tongue at my visible delight.

He left without ever telling me what he actually liked, saying Yun had been visiting for two days straight, so he’d probably show up today too. Autumn sunlight, warm and square, painted patterns across the bed as he left.

***

Yun showed up at a perfect time.

He didn’t seem surprised to find me awake. Without a word, he got me into the car and drove toward his house. Since my right shoulder was still bad, he said he’d have me take care of things that didn’t require physical effort.

I didn’t ask what that meant — I’d find out soon enough.

Instead, I asked another question in the car.

“Do you know what Samuel likes?”

“Alcohol.”

“Ah. Does he prefer whiskey or something?”

“He drinks everything.”

A real heavyweight, then.

I decided I’d get him a good bottle of whiskey or wine, and reached for my phone with my left hand.

I replied slowly to everyone — told Shu I’d definitely go, asked Tom and Hesh to meet for dinner, and messaged the seniors that I was fine. After that, I opened a browser to search for a good liquor gift.

But before I could decide, the car stopped.

We’d arrived somewhere familiar.

Ah... the cabin was finished.

“Are we going to blow that up?”

“I thought about it,” Yun said calmly, “but I think it’s better if you just live there.”

Why?!

I turned to him in shock.

“We examined it thoroughly — nothing unusual,” he said flatly.

“Don’t you think the fact that Jaeyeon built it makes it unusual enough?”

“True, but tearing it down doesn’t guarantee anything will go better.”

Hard to argue with that.

Knowing Jaeyeon, he might lose his mind if we demolished it. If we didn’t, at least it would stand until it collapsed naturally.

I sighed in defeat. Yun patted my left shoulder roughly.

“Hang in there. Accepting it early will be easier.”

“This is depressing. Please just send me home.”

“That is your home now.”

I didn’t go to “my house” — the cabin Jaeyeon had built — but followed Yun into his own.

Even then, I didn’t understand why he’d brought me there again. But I was used to his wordless ways by now. The house felt familiar enough that when he sat me on the sofa and disappeared, I simply relaxed into the cushions.

Until he returned — carrying a thick book.

“Here.”

“...What’s this?”

He handed it over without explanation, so I instinctively took it.

Still no words, but he clearly meant for me to look, so I opened it.

The moment I lifted the purple hardcover, I realized it wasn’t a book — it was an album. The photos were neatly arranged, probably by Ami.

I looked up at Yun, jaw dropping.

“Am I allowed to look?”

“You said you were curious.”

Oh, Lord.

I didn’t know why he was being so unexpectedly kind, but I wasn’t about to refuse.

Without hesitation, I turned to the first page — and burst out laughing at once.

It started strong. The first photo showed a ten-year-old Yun holding a tiny, sulky Ami in his arms.

“Did you always look like that since you were ten?”

“Would it have been any different back then?”

Yun answered dryly and leaned back on the opposite sofa.

“I listened even less.”

I went through the photos with delight.

Pictures of young Yun and Ami — and, true to his word, Yun’s expression never changed. At best, he was frowning or staring blankly.

Some things never change...

Ami, on the other hand, was often a blur — she must have been moving too much.

Most of the photos showed Yun chasing her. Four-year-old Ami running somewhere, twelve-year-old Yun chasing after her. Five-year-old Ami falling down, thirteen-year-old Yun sighing. Six-year-old Ami with ice cream all over her mouth, fourteen-year-old Yun giving her a look of pure disbelief.

Choi Hyunjun and Choi Hyunyoung appeared occasionally, but not often; Choi Hyunseok not at all. He must have hated the adopted siblings.

Hyunyoung clearly doted only on Ami, while Hyunjun seemed to keep a polite distance.

The four of them filled the early pages — cheerful, ordinary photos.

Then suddenly, a familiar face appeared.

“Yehyeon!”

Yehyeon and Yun were wearing the same school uniform.

“You went to the same high school?”

“Yeah.”

Yun’s voice was flat.

The picture showed a much younger, gentler Yehyeon standing beside him. It must have been summer — a desolate playground with a rusty pull-up bar, white short-sleeved uniforms. Yun was holding a Capri-Sun.

Yehyeon ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) held an ice cream cone — and his wrist, the one holding it, was bruised dark blue.

The smile faded from my face.

“Did Lee Seunghyun hit him too?”

“How do you know that name?”

Yun’s tone sharpened.

Right. He didn’t know I was already acquainted with Lee Seunghyun.

I looked up at him, startled. A faint wrinkle formed between his brows.

But he didn’t question me further.

He just waved a hand irritably.

“Forget it. We’ll deal with that later. Keep looking.”

I obeyed, not sure what he meant.

Now there were five familiar faces. They appeared and disappeared through the pages — Yun, Ami, Yehyeon, Hyunjun, and Hyunyoung. Photos of the three younger ones together, Ami out with friends, Yun showing something on a PC screen to Hyunjun.

Then a shot of Ami crying her heart out while Yun, in a green military uniform, smiled faintly down at her.

“What’s this one?”

“When I enlisted.”

“The army? Then if Ami was that young, the First War must have...”

“I served twice.”

Why?

I looked at him in confusion, and his brows knit.

For some reason, Yun’s mood soured, and he snapped,

“Don’t. I don’t want to remember.”

“Yes, sir. Sorry, whatever it was.”

I bowed my head and kept turning the pages.

From then on, there were fewer photos of him. I smiled as I watched Ami grow up — bright-eyed and round-faced.

Ami holding Hyunyoung’s hand while shopping. Ami playing badminton with friends, wearing gym shorts under her uniform skirt. Ami offering a birthday cake to Hyunjun, then running toward Yun, who was walking in wearing his uniform.

And then — the last page.

But I couldn’t close the album.

The moment I turned it, I froze.

Tucked into the back was a printed photograph — not of people, but of a circular Portal, black as if it would swallow all surrounding light.

What lay beyond it was impossible to discern.

“If you’re done looking,” Yun’s lazy voice cut through the air, “then it’s time for your story, Hildebert.”

“Because if something goes out,” he said, “something has to come back.”