Having sucked the blood from the wound inside Yoon Taehee’s mouth, Jaegyeom spat once and walked out of the room.

Yoon Taehee, leaning against the wall, slowly slid down to the floor.

For a while, he simply sat there blankly, dazed. Then he lifted a hand and wiped at his mouth. Blood smeared across the back of his hand.

“......”

He stared vacantly at the blood staining his skin.

His mind felt utterly empty, as though he had abruptly awakened from a dream. He couldn’t properly process what had just happened. He knew he had been responding to Jaegyeom’s words and actions the entire time, but somewhere along the way, he had completely lost control of the flow of things.

The thoughts that had stalled under the overload began moving sluggishly again.

Only belatedly coming back to his senses, Yoon Taehee hurried after Jaegyeom.

The moment he stepped into the hallway, he spotted Jaegyeom’s back disappearing not far ahead.

“Jaegyeom.”

Yoon Taehee called out to stop him.

But Jaegyeom only walked faster, acting as though he hadn’t heard a thing.

Left with no choice, Yoon Taehee lengthened his stride to catch up.

“Jaegyeom.”

He reached out and grabbed his shoulder.

The instant his hand touched him, Jaegyeom coldly slapped it away without even turning around.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Gyeom-ah.”

Something scorching surged violently through Jaegyeom’s chest.

He spun around and glared at Yoon Taehee with a terrifying expression.

“Don’t ever call me that again.”

Until now, only two people had ever called him that.

Myojeong.

And Yoon Taehee.

The two of them resembled each other in this way as well—both had betrayed his heart and left wounds that would never heal.

“I can’t even stand looking at a bastard like you.”

Jaegyeom’s eyes were cold as frost.

“Don’t follow me.”

His voice was absolute.

“If you follow me, I’ll make sure I never see you again.”

He was rejecting Yoon Taehee completely.

Even Yoon Taehee understood immediately that this was no empty threat. Jaegyeom meant every word.

At this moment, Yoon Taehee disgusted him as much as Myojeong—

—perhaps even more.

And in the first place, it was Yoon Taehee himself who had thrown away every chance to explain or apologize.

After glaring at him a moment longer, Jaegyeom turned away again.

“......”

Instinctively, Yoon Taehee reached out once more.

But somehow, his hand stopped short, as though something invisible blocked him from touching Jaegyeom.

In the end, he couldn’t hold onto him.

He had always believed he could calmly accept anything Jaegyeom directed toward him, even hatred and resentment. That was why he had told himself from the start that he expected nothing and regretted nothing.

But now that things had unfolded in a completely unexpected direction, Yoon Taehee no longer knew what to do.

He simply stood there rooted in place, watching Jaegyeom’s retreating back until it disappeared completely.

Only after Jaegyeom vanished from sight did Yoon Taehee finally return to the room.

He collapsed heavily into a chair.

For a long time, he sat lost in thought.

But no matter how much he thought, he couldn’t find an answer.

The moment he realized Jaegyeom had chosen to remain beside him, countless emotions had overwhelmed him all at once.

And yet instead of growing closer, they had ended up drifting even farther apart.

To opposite extremes.

Then suddenly, a thought struck him.

What if Jaegyeom disappeared somewhere if he let him leave like this?

The idea alone made his fingertips tremble.

Nausea twisted violently in his stomach.

Yoon Taehee rose abruptly from his chair.

Absently worrying at the split skin on his lip, he paced the hallway in restless steps before finally forcing the words out.

“Heukje.”

At the call, Heukje appeared like a mirage.

“Yes. You called for me.”

In the short time he had been absent, the room had become a complete disaster. 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

The teacups and tea set lay shattered across the floor. Tea soaked the ground beneath them.

Heukje showed no visible reaction to the chaos.

Nor did he ask what had happened.

He didn’t need to.

The boy was gone.

And Yoon Taehee’s face had gone deathly pale.

Just as he had feared, things had clearly ended badly.

The ruined room and Yoon Taehee sitting alone within it, shoulders slumped in defeat, carried the unmistakable atmosphere of catastrophe.

The Leader looked utterly broken.

Heukje quietly waited for him to speak first.

After a long silence, Yoon Taehee finally opened his mouth.

“He couldn’t have gone far yet.”

The softly spoken words made Heukje flinch slightly.

Yoon Taehee’s eyes were dark and hollow.

To an outsider, he might have looked cold and emotionless as always.

But Heukje knew better.

Right now, Yoon Taehee was trembling with anxiety.

“......”

Suppressing his disapproval, Heukje lowered his head.

He already understood what the order meant.

Bring the boy back before he leaves the mountain.

At this point, Yoon Taehee clearly believed the only option left was to keep Jaegyeom from escaping by force if necessary.

Jaegyeom likely hadn’t made it off the mountain yet. And since Yoon Taehee himself couldn’t go after him directly, he had decided the fastest solution was to use an intelligent ghost instead.

Yoon Taehee had absolutely no intention of letting Jaegyeom leave like this.

“Yes. Understood.”

Heukje was painfully aware that the Leader’s obsession with the boy had long since gone too far.

After bowing, Heukje turned to leave.

But he hesitated near the doorway, unable to leave immediately, as though there was still something weighing on him.

After a brief pause, he slowly turned back toward Yoon Taehee.

“However, before that, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“It’s about the man called Myojeong.”

Yoon Taehee gave a short nod, signaling him to continue.

He remembered their conversation about Myojeong had been interrupted by Jaegyeom’s arrival earlier. Heukje’s unusual expression had remained lodged in his mind ever since.

“Yes. Go on.”

“I met someone who knew the man named Myojeong.”

After a slight hesitation, Heukje spoke again.

“They said Myojeong was the name used by the previous Bangsangsi.”

At those words, Yoon Taehee blankly asked,

“...What?”

Darkness had already settled over the mountains.

A long time had passed since Jaegyeom left the pavilion.

But he still hadn’t escaped the mountain.

Instead, he had unknowingly been circling the same area over and over.

His stamina drained far faster than usual. His body felt unbearably heavy, °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° as though sandbags had been tied to his limbs. No matter how long he walked, the scenery never changed.

Normally, he would have noticed something was wrong immediately.

But right now, Jaegyeom was far too mentally exhausted to recognize the unnaturalness of the situation.

He didn’t even realize he was lost.

His emotions were raging uncontrollably, his mind packed too full for anything else to enter.

Ever since leaving the pavilion, he had simply wandered aimlessly, trying desperately to swallow the storm of emotions churning inside him.

And while he wandered in circles, the day gradually faded into night.

What am I supposed to do now?

As far as Jaegyeom could tell, there were no options left anymore.

His final hope had collapsed pointlessly.

The betrayal and anger he felt toward Yoon Taehee had shattered his composure completely.

He was furious that Yoon Taehee had deceived him.

Furious that what he thought was his final lifeline had been rotten from the beginning.

And the determination and resolve he had built around death had burst like bubbles in an instant.

Meanwhile, all the unresolved problems remained piled up before him.

Nothing had ended.

He knew logically that he needed to think about what to do next.

The week Suhyang mentioned was already slipping away.

There was no more time left to wander aimlessly.

He needed to make a decision somehow.

But after being thrown all the way back to the beginning, Jaegyeom felt more mentally and physically exhausted than ever before.

And more than anything, the shock of Yoon Taehee’s deception was so overwhelming that he no longer had the strength to stand back up.

No matter how hard he tried to pull himself together, he couldn’t find any motivation.

After wandering aimlessly for who knew how long, Jaegyeom eventually stopped.

His body felt unbearably heavy now, to the point where even walking had become difficult.

With a dull thud, he sat down beneath a tree and leaned against it.

Cold seeped through his body.

Sniffling quietly, Jaegyeom hugged his drawn-up knees and lowered his head.

For just a little while, he wanted to stop thinking entirely and rest.

It felt as though only a few minutes had passed.

But when Jaegyeom opened his eyes again, he found himself somewhere completely different.

It was almost as though he had been teleported while asleep.

Startled, Jaegyeom jerked upright and looked around.

Then he recognized the place immediately.

It was Byeoksadan’s pavilion.

The same one he had visited earlier.

He had no memory of when he fell asleep or how he had gotten here, but until the moment he closed his eyes, he had definitely still been out in the mountains.

Bedding had already been laid out neatly on one side of the room.

Someone had clearly brought him here deliberately.

He didn’t know exactly what method they had used, but it was obvious some sort of trick had been involved.

From a distance where his presence could not be detected, Heukje had watched until Jaegyeom fell asleep, then quietly moved him back to the pavilion.

Still bewildered, Jaegyeom looked around the unfamiliar room.

This was not the room from earlier.

Tall bookshelves lined the walls, crammed tightly with books. A folding screen stood to one side, and hanging before it was a sword he had never seen before.

Still visibly confused, Jaegyeom immediately strode toward the door.

He intended to leave at once.

But no matter how hard he pulled—

—the door would not open.