The Snow Queen

However, the amber light fled far away. I was rejected, and we were over.

I flicked the cigarette, worn down to its filter, out of the car window. The cigarette traced an arc before hitting the snow-streaked ground. The embers at the tip left nothing but a black mark before they quickly died out.

It would end like that. There would come a time when emotions, too, would be exhausted. It had to happen. It absolutely had to. But in truth, I wanted to throw open the car door right now, run up the stairs, fling open the door, and dive into the golden cascade of hair. I wanted to crash into those burning lips. I wanted to entwine with Ray and roll around like mad.

I clenched my fist so hard it felt like blood might come out. At that moment, the light in the window went out. Hurriedly, I started the car. I was afraid of being taken over by the past spirits that would squeeze through the iron gates. I couldn’t allow my young blood to freeze in shock. Like a Danish prince walking to his doom, aware of the impending disaster, I must not make such a foolish mistake.

I drove through the mist-like darkness. A piercing longing enveloped me. Before I knew it, snow began to fall. A snowstorm scattered into pieces outside the car window. The footprints that had scratched the sidewalk like scars were quickly covered in snow.

I decided to wait. I could do it. I was a man of patience. I would no longer seek that place. I wouldn’t try to revive his trace. I resolved to erase it gradually. I gripped the steering wheel tightly. I stared into the pitch-black darkness. I bit my lip hard. One day, even the scars that Ray had left would be covered by time. It had to be so.

I locked the door and threw off the damned mask. I poured vodka into a glass.

I skimmed through the report submitted by a subordinate for two hours. As I had felt from Manen’s schedule chart, this report was quite peculiar too. It was a comparative chart of parties Manen had attended and parties he hadn’t. The more I examined the report, the more I felt like I was tracking a 007 agent. How could this be?

I stared at the video playing in front of me. On screen, Manen kept drinking without pause. There were no significant words or actions. All he did was occasionally glance around the banquet hall with disinterested eyes.

I glanced at the report again. Out of an average of three aristocratic parties held daily, Manen seemed to prioritize attending the ones Lord Wolfscott was at. Like a stalker, he followed Lord Wolfscott everywhere.

Why? Didn’t Lord Wolfscott always snarl openly at Manen? Of course, he always lost to Manen in verbal sparring, but could he really be seeking that thrill?

I shook my head.

There was something more. I tapped the report with my finger. There was no contact with anyone suspected of being a sorcerer in Manen’s every move. I was certain the clue would be found in the video. I couldn’t explain it, but my intuition told me so.

I sank deeply into the chair. Manen looked gloomy in the video. I had often seen that sad expression before. He was so depressed that the department heads often mocked him, calling him “the fallen tattooed sage.” He was completely different from the ever-cheerful Lord Wolfscott. It was hard to understand why Manen frequented these parties almost every day if he was always that gloomy.

…

I set down my vodka glass. I felt like I had been hit over the head with a club.

How could I be such an idiot? I was stunned. How had I missed such an obvious question? It was the moment when the phrase “blind as a bat” made sense.

I grabbed the report and skimmed through it. The outline slowly became clear. Yes, it was like 007. His actions were just like those of 007, who infiltrates while hiding his identity. Except Manen wasn’t hiding his identity.

Manen didn’t have an information network like Guiger’s. Yet, when it came to media-related matters, he showed an astonishingly quick response. The only clue was the two parties he attended during the countdown period.

What if Manen was actually Ryeong…?

I couldn’t help but laugh at the sudden thought.

But you never know.

Isn’t it common in Eastern movies? The master or companion who leaves behind their abilities and departs, emitting a radiant aura from their body.

What if Ryeong had passed on his powers to Manen before dying?

A sorcerer. Not just any sorcerer, but Ryeong. It wasn’t entirely impossible. It was a ridiculous possibility that made me chuckle. The chance of it being true was low, especially with Cotbica’s death.

There was something else. There was definitely an invisible hand moving the chessboard from above.

“Can you open the door?”

I snapped out of my thoughts at the sudden knock.

Damn it. Just when my thoughts were taking off, I got interrupted. And of all people, by the muttonchops.

I quickly put on the mask and opened the door. The man with the muttonchops stepped into the office, his displeasure evident on his face.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

“What do you mean, what’s the matter…?”

His voice was so syrupy it was almost embarrassing for someone with such thick facial hair.

“Aren’t we on better terms than this? Why have you been holed up in your office lately?”

“There’s a lot of work.”

My cold demeanor seemed to ignite his temper even more. His eyes glinted intensely. I tried to relax the grip on the whip in my hand.

“Lord Wolfscott assigned me a task. I was in the middle of work. Unless it’s something urgent, please leave.”

“Aaah…”

He shuddered and moaned. I nearly lashed out with the whip.

Seemingly realizing he had crossed a line, the man quickly cleared his throat. Did he even know that his quick wits had saved his life, that damned fool?

“Hmph. Anyway, I didn’t come here for no reason. I stopped by Japonica’s office earlier and received instructions. Tonight, the department heads will be secretly guarding Japonica.”

I felt my mood sour. If it was a secret mission, shouldn’t I have received direct orders?

“Japonica will be having a small gathering with some of the Release members. You know Rob Stasoff and Harry Altonen, right?”

Of course, I knew. They were the key members of Release and rising stars in the young military factions.

“They are hosting Japonica tonight…”

Suddenly, the mutton-chopped man trailed off. He furrowed his brow for a moment and then spoke again.

“I’ll be blunt. They’ve asked Japonica to be treated to a wild night in the commoner style. There’s a place on 42nd Street called ‘Labyrinth.’ It’s an infamous underground venue, already well-known among the nobles. You know of it, right?”

Of course, I did. I had hundreds of photographs of obscene parties held by nobles there, stashed away in that cabinet. Laughing at those pictures was a favorite pastime of the department heads.

I smirked coldly. I had been played by this sleazy bastard.

It suddenly became clear why Lord Wolfscott had recently been so openly dismissive of the department heads. It was because of the Release.

Lord Wolfscott, always wary, kept a watchful eye on the Release while also maintaining his guard. The Release, in turn, had walked a fine line between deference and caution. But now, suddenly, they were shamelessly fawning over Lord Wolfscott, groveling before him. It made the department heads insignificant.

And the one responsible for all of this was the mutton chops standing right in front of me.

At first glance, Guiger was nothing more than a thug. When the mutton-chopped man first joined as a department head, his goal had been simply to enjoy the physical pleasures and flatter Lord Wolfscott. But after witnessing Guiger’s operations firsthand, he was startled. That’s when he started making moves, suggesting I join their “membership room” and calling me all kinds of things, like “darling.” His real goal was to seize control of Guiger. I had seen through him from the very beginning.

For the past two years, Lord Wolfscott had been holed up in his office, doing little more than yelling. During that time, I had secretly recruited many of his closest aides. I even began subtly influencing Lord Wolfscott’s affairs, taking commissions to cultivate loyal subordinates. Whether or not I strengthened ties with the Release, it didn’t matter to me. In other words, I had nothing to lose.

The mutton-chopped bastard had realized this far too late and had turned to the Release for help. The Release must have felt threatened. Their sudden shift in behavior, rushing to lavish Lord Wolfscott with attention, was proof of that.

Anger surged within me. It was pitiful. 007 Manen was a hundred times more cunning than Lord Wolfscott. Watching Lord Wolfscott, unaware and dancing to the tune of those younger fools, filled me with frustration.

“There’s no need for department heads to be involved if it’s at Labyrinth. The regular members should suffice.”

“Hmm? Are you now deciding the venue? Whether it’s a royal ballroom or a shady tavern, your job remains the same—protection duty. Or is it that you’re displeased with a venue of lower status?”

His eyes glinted mischievously.

“Regrettable as it may be for you, Stasoff specifically requested that the Guiger department heads accompany Japonica. Japonica accepted the request. So tonight, you and the department heads will be at Labyrinth, all of you.”

Blood boiled within me. These young fools had crossed the line.

“Do you know what a ‘Ten Eunuchs’ is?”

The mutton-chopped man suddenly threw out a term.

“…No.”

I spat out the words, gritting my teeth in anger.

He laughed.

“As a commoner, of course, you wouldn’t know. What would a thug like you know? Listen carefully to what I’m about to say. The ‘Ten Eunuchs’ refers to a group of ten eunuchs. Eunuchs were palace servants in the Chinese royal court, castrated to serve. But not just anyone became a eunuch. Only the handsome, talented, and clever were selected. It’s a far cry from the ugly image most people associate with eunuchs.”

“And so?”

“The Ten Eunuchs were no ordinary group. They hid behind the queen and empress dowager’s skirts, controlling the kingdom and committing all sorts of atrocities. In short, they overstepped their bounds. Isn’t that right? Eunuchs should stick to brewing tea and cleaning, not managing state affairs and plotting conspiracies. They even went so far as to execute officials. Do you know what happened to them?”

“As I’ve said before, I don’t.”

It was painfully obvious who he was comparing to the Ten Eunuchs. It was me. It was us. It was Guiger. I was practically losing my mind, wanting to rip out his tongue.

The mutton-chopped man chuckled for a long time.

“They were executed by officials full of righteous indignation. It’s a historical lesson that shows just how valuable modesty is. People should know their place in life. I’m sure you understand what I’m implying, even without me spelling it out. We leave at 2 a.m.”

With that, he left the office.

I locked the door and ripped off my mask, throwing it to the floor. I downed my vodka in one gulp. As it spilled over my lips, I slammed my fist on the desk.

These bastards—daring to challenge us?

Japonica was my creation. It was a collaboration with the department heads. This wasn’t arrogance. If it weren’t for us, that idiot Lord Wolfscott would never have risen to where he is now.

Several key incidents that propelled Lord Wolfscott to the top were, in fact, plans devised and executed by me and the department heads. Many schemes and assassinations came from our minds and were completed by our hands. Even now, I’m confident that if Lord Wolfscott had just listened to us from the start, we would’ve already taken control of the kingdom. Manen? I sent him packing long ago. If I wanted to, I could crown Lord Wolfscott myself.

Lord Wolfscott, consciously or unconsciously, knew this. That’s why he was so adamant about keeping us hidden under a veil. He claimed it was for security reasons, but the truth was different. It was a desperate attempt to hide his pathetic, commoner-born self from others. Meanwhile, he slapped masks on us, making us the subjects of ridicule as mere guards. I saw right through him. Despite that, I kept quiet because Lord Wolfscott had been my benefactor, the one who brought me into his fold.

But now, he wanted to cast us aside? And in our place, he brought in the Release? Keep to our place? Do nothing but guard some tavern on a worthless outing?

Furious, I recalled his comparison to the Ten Eunuchs, and my blood boiled again. I downed another shot of vodka.

I tried to cool my head. It was fine. The fact that they felt the need to keep us in check only proved our worth. I resolved to crush the Release before dealing with Manen.

Just wait, you bastards. How dare you come after me?

I sent a message to all the department heads on my phone. I intended to meet for dinner and subtly influence them. After deciding on a location, I collapsed into the chair. Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm my anger. What was needed in times like these was a mind colder than ice.

I poured vodka into the glass and swirled it. Closing my eyes, I drank it. The alcohol slowly spread through me. My closed vision gradually turned amber. I chuckled.

Tonia again…

I decided to let it go. If I kept reminiscing like this, eventually, it would fade away. I swallowed more vodka. The taste was bitter.

I wanted to feel her lips again. Her pale skin. I wanted to rake my fingers like claws through her thick hair, lush like a summer forest. What was she up to now, I wondered. Did she even think of me at all?

I laughed at this pathetic hope. When was it? The first time I desired to have Ray all to myself. I couldn’t recall. It didn’t matter. Love isn’t some equation.

All I could do was laugh at myself for still holding onto this faint hope. It was like this: I imagined bumping into Ray on the street by chance. I’d greet him casually, “Oh, what a surprise,” and suggest, “Since it’s such a coincidence, why don’t we grab a meal together?” And we’d go to a restaurant, striking up a conversation, starting fresh. That was the kind of fantasy I had all morning on the way to work.

On the way to work, I always passed Centaurea Park. It was a huge 3.2 km² park modeled after New York’s Central Park. The park’s border met the headquarters at 17th Street. Driving down the avenue, I’d often see couples strolling through the park and think,

But today, I found myself dreaming of chance encounters.

When my work wasn’t going well, I’d often take a walk in Centaurea Park to clear my mind. I imagined walking through the foggy park, accidentally bumping into someone around a corner, their amber hair floating in the air. Instinctively, I would catch them to help, and that person would be Ray. Ray would twist his ankle by some misfortune, and I’d take him to a nearby restaurant and help him ice his leg… And so, cautiously, we’d begin again. This was the ridiculous daydream I indulged in all morning.

This kind of story would be rejected anywhere. I was a screenwriter meant to create splatter horror films with torn flesh and blood-curdling screams. I knew it. Such sweet coincidences never happen. It was just the last flicker of my hopeless dream.

Damn witch.

To make it worse, last night, I had a pitiful dream. I usually sleep deeply and rarely dream, but this one was disturbingly vivid. It was uncomfortably similar to Ray’s cursed “ten minutes every ten years” story. No, it was even worse.

In the dream, I sat alone in the dark, drowning in despair, guzzling drink after drink. I sat before a portrait of my long-gone wife, crushed by an overwhelming sense of failure. All the while, I muttered eerily, “Just once… even ten minutes every ten years would be enough… just once…” It was a relief it was just a dream. I couldn’t help but mutter,

It seemed Ray’s misery had rubbed off on me.

My mood soured again. I downed the last bit of vodka.

The sound of the rain was loud. Slowly, I walked to the window and looked out. Dark clouds hung low, and the sky was dominated by shadow, wind, and rain. I opened the window, and a damp breeze rushed in. I pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and took a drag.

At 7:30, I was to have dinner with the department heads. My plan was to stir them up with talk of the eunuch story.

I muttered under my breath, “2 a.m., the Labyrinth, huh…”

꙳•❅*ִ

My head hurt. It felt like a drill was boring into my temple. I’d been tormented by my illness all night. It had been quiet for weeks, but here it was again. I could barely keep up with what Sonia was saying. She kept asking what was wrong, so I ended up telling her about my condition.

Sonia widened her eyes. “Really? You have an illness like that?”

“It’s simple. Think of it like a riddle. Like the one from the Sphinx. What walks on four legs in the morning, two legs in the afternoon, and three legs in the evening?”

“Humans.”

“It’s something like that.”

“Hmmm… a mental illness?”

“Close.”

“Yikes. What could it be?”

Sonia tilted her head, smoking a cigarette, and slowly exhaled.

“You know… if someone else said something like that, I’d probably just laugh it off. But for some reason, when

say it, it’s scary. Your face is pale as a sheet, and your pupils are empty. You’ve had this since childhood?”

“I’ve gotten used to it now.”

“You don’t seem used to it at all.”

I laughed it off. The conversation ended as customers began pouring in. Another wave of Socrates types. While monitoring an empty room on the screen, I noticed Stasoff throwing persistent glances our way.

“Looks like that one has a thing for you,” Sonia quipped as soon as the Socrates group entered the room.

“I might need to request a transfer to the front desk.”

“The front desk is even harder. At least here, you’re dealing with nobles who don’t make a fuss. If you move to the front, you’ll be in trouble. No way those men would leave you alone.”

I felt awkward at her serious tone.

“That seems like a bit of an exaggeration.”

“You’re way too naive. Listen to me. The only reason you’re safe is that this place is high-end. There are plenty of women here, so customers don’t bother the regular staff. The management here can afford to be generous. If you were working the counter at a run-down joint, the pimp would’ve messed with you ages ago.”

“Messed with me? How?”

“They’d lock you up and get you hooked on drugs. Then they’d blackmail you into prostitution. It’s a common tactic. You have no idea how many people got trapped in this way.”

“Wow, I see…”

Sonia laughed heartily.

“You got scared again, didn’t you? But this is something you

be scared of. I’m not joking—this is serious advice. You’re twenty-seven, right? How is it that you’ve lived on 42nd Street for that long and stayed so naive?”

“I guess it’s because I’ve only ever gone between my house and the second-hand bookstore.”

I answered bitterly, remembering my first night with Messara. I had vaguely thought that since it was sex between two men, it would just be some fumbling and that’d be it… and that was the only reason I agreed. I never imagined that my mouth and other parts of my body would be used that way. It wasn’t just naivety—it was stupidity.

Sonia took a drag from her cigarette, her expression somewhat amused.

“Well, even Ellie said the same thing. She was really surprised when a man got interested in her since she always kept people at arm’s length. The guy seemed super into her. But really, why did you two break up? Was he some kind of pervert?”

“He seemed really into me, huh…”

Was he?

“There were some issues with him, but I was part of the problem too. Honestly, we didn’t even really get started—it just ended weirdly. But it’s interesting to hear what Ellie thought of him. It feels different from my perspective.”

“Hm.”

Sonia exhaled a cloud of smoke slowly, gazing off into space.

“Why do you think they have jury systems? Because everyone perceives things differently, right? I don’t know how you saw that guy, but Ellie must’ve seen him that way. If I’d been there, I might’ve thought differently. Maybe I’d have been scheming to snatch him up for myself. I’m a bit of a flirt, you know.”

“Oh no, Owin would be disappointed to hear that.”

Sonia waved her hand, laughing lightly. Suddenly, a voice called out from down the hall, “Hey, you there.”

It was Stasoff.

Waiters were coming and going nearby, so there was no reason for me to attend to the customer. I decided to pretend I hadn’t heard him.

“Didn’t you hear me? Hey, you! Long blonde hair! Come over here. What’s the matter, can’t you hear me? Get up, now!”

A waiter nearby tried to intervene, saying, “Excuse me, sir, but she’s just a regular employee.” But Stasoff was persistent. Owin was unfortunately not around at that moment. The waiter gave me a pleading look, signaling for me to just go along with it for a moment.

Reluctantly, I stood up.

“What can I help you with?”

“Heh.”

Stasoff looked me up and down.

“Sir, I’m in charge of the counter. I also need to guide guests in. If there’s nothing specific, I’ll be going back to my duties.”

“I wouldn’t have called you over if I didn’t have business.”

“And what might that be?”

Stasoff took out a business card from his wallet and handed it to me. I was taken aback.

“My number’s on there. Call me after you finish work tonight, and I’ll drive right over.”

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about. Here, take it back.”

As I tried to place the card back into the pocket of his jacket, he grabbed my wrist.

“You don’t understand? Don’t play dumb. Take the card, you uppity little thing.”

With that, he turned on his heel and walked back into the room. I stood there for a moment, dumbfounded. What did he just call me? Did he mistake my gender?

It didn’t seem that way. It was clear condescension and mockery.

Suddenly, a sharp pain throbbed at the back of my head, as if smoke from a fire had clouded my thoughts. Was this a sign that another painful episode was approaching?

“What are you going to do? Are you going to call him?”

Sonia kept prodding with questions. I threw the business card into the trash.

“Let him wait if he wants. If you’re interested, you can take him, Sonia.”

Sonia burst into laughter. It was a huge, uncontrollable fit of laughter.

The more I thought about it, the angrier I got over Stasoff’s “uppity little thing” comment. While on the phone with Lord Manen, I subtly brought up Stasoff.

“As you know, the Stasoff family is tied to the local mafia. Thanks to that, he’s one of the top figures in the region. Even Wolfscott seems to be keeping an eye on him. Well, the gangsters disguised as aristocrats seem to be in cahoots. But why are you asking about Stasoff all of a sudden?”

“I was just wondering if he might be connected to Snake.”

“Why? Planning to take him out too if he is?”

“If necessary, yes.”

“Haha! I’ll have to make sure you shake hands with Stasoff and get your opinion on him soon.”

Lord Manen laughed heartily.

“By the way, you’ve only got four days left until discharge. How’s your health?”

“No improvement, but I should be getting up soon. I haven’t been able to rest properly in the hospital—still doing work and meeting people.”

“By the way…”

“Yeah?”

“Why have you been looking into my background again lately?”

Lord Manen went silent at my sudden question.

“I appreciate your concern, but I’m sure I told you when we first met that I don’t need any repayment. And besides, my illness isn’t something that can be cured with money.”

“…I’m sorry.”

“Then please contact me when the royal party is over.”

I placed my phone on the windowsill and lay down.

Lord Manen’s words came back to me. Of course, I would, if necessary. Even if it wasn’t necessary, if I pushed for it, Lord Manen would send someone to take care of Stasoff.

Stasoff… His appearance was far from noble, with a rough and intimidating look. And that gaze of his, along with his behavior—more like a common thug than a noble.

Naturally, I had planned to handle him in an appropriate manner. I had to. The fact that I was willing to commit any atrocity while hiding behind Lord Manen disgusted me.

Lately, my nerves had been on edge, all because of the birch tree. Normally, I wasn’t the type to get easily agitated. One of the few strengths I prided myself on was my composure. I’d always thought of assassination as a last resort, a final card to play. The fact that I was considering it over something so trivial now was proof that something inside me was going off course.

I took out the envelope of money I had received from the business and shook it slowly.

Why had they been so insistent?

Last night, after finishing work and changing in the locker room, the manager called me aside. There were seven managers at the establishment I worked at, Labyrinth, including Mason, the operations manager who had called me over.

“What is it?”

“I have something to tell you. Come with me.”

I followed Mr. Mason into an underground room. Inside were other managers and Vera, the owner of Labyrinth, along with a few staff members standing around. There were piles of cigarette butts in the ashtrays, suggesting they were in the middle of a serious meeting.

Vera extinguished her cigarette. As she pulled out another one, Mr. Mason lit it for her. She took a few puffs before speaking.

“I called you all here because of something important. You all know tomorrow is a day off for the shop, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“But those of you here will still need to come in tomorrow. I haven’t called in the girls who’ll be entertaining tomorrow, but I’ve already given them a heads-up. Listen closely. The guest coming tomorrow… let’s call him

. To be honest, I don’t particularly want to host him. But I don’t have a choice.”

Vera paused and scanned the room, giving the tension time to build.

“I’ll explain. Normally, the nobles who frequent this place planned to host

here. They were supposed to pay the entertainment fee upfront today, but just now, they suddenly informed me that

decided to entertain them instead. So tomorrow, they told me to make sure someone’s at the counter.

will pay on the way out, and the amount will depend on the quality of the service we provide. So, take good care of him.”

“Sounds like a threat to me,” Mason said, his face twisted in displeasure. The atmosphere among the managers was uniformly grim. Vera and all the managers were Chinese, and as the people of the kingdom referred to them, “Yellow-faced Jews,” they were meticulous about money matters.

Vera lifted her coffee cup and spoke.

“Our services are divided into three levels based on the amount paid. We never made special exceptions just because someone was a noble. But the situation has become tricky. Since we’re in this mess, we have no choice. We’ve decided to prepare at the highest level. Now, let’s break into teams and discuss.”

Mason called me over.

“You got all that?”

“Yes.”

“They said they’d be bringing their own bodyguards tomorrow, so they requested that we remove all of ours. They want to minimize any exposure of their identities. So tomorrow, make sure to keep a neutral expression in front of the guests. If you act like you recognize anyone, it’ll be a problem. You need to keep a poker face.”

“Understood.”

“You and four waiters, along with seventeen hostesses, will be stationed at the back door. Your job is to handle the payment. I expect

will pay by check. As soon as the guests leave, bring the payment directly to Mrs. Vera. If the amount doesn’t match the service we provided, we’ll have to collect it from the nobles who brought him. They think they can look down on us… Understood?”

“Yes.”

“And here, take this. It’s four times your weekly wage. The nobles paid extra to keep your mouth shut.”

“I won’t speak a word about what I see or hear tomorrow.”

“We were going to have someone else handle the backdoor counter tomorrow, but Ellie strongly recommended you, saying you have a mouth as heavy as a rock. But that means if you run your mouth, Ellie will be the one in trouble.”

“Don’t worry.”

After the meeting, Mrs. Vera stood up.

“By now, all the regular staff should’ve left. Let’s head to the back door and practice welcoming tomorrow’s guests.”

After deciding on seating and greeting orders with the staff at the back door, I returned home. I wondered what kind of high-ranking person was coming to cause such a fuss.

In any case, it was a stroke of luck for me. I suddenly had enough money to pay back Ellie and get by for the next few weeks. I placed the envelope on the windowsill and pulled up my sheets.

Sonia’s words replayed in my mind.

I couldn’t understand why that one word sounded so sweet, even though it was all in the distant past now. When the bell had suddenly rung at the second-hand bookstore, I had just felt annoyed. I didn’t even look up, just told them to take the money and leave. I had only tilted my head, thinking,

The more I thought about it, the more absurd it seemed. Something inexplicable was tightening around me.

It was over. As painful as it was, that was the truth. I was the one who brought it to an end, and Messara was no longer coming. All that remained was fading time and a gloomy burden.

It’ll be fine. There’s no one around to see me, so I guess it’s okay to cry a little.

It was 2:20 a.m. The expected time had long passed, but the outside remained eerily quiet. A loose silence lingered in the hallway.

I stood in front of the counter bar. After standing like this for over 30 minutes, I was feeling restless. I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of sight this must be. The hostesses had been fidgeting and showing signs of irritation since earlier.

The internal phone at the counter rang. It was the kitchen staff.

“Have they not arrived yet? This is becoming a problem.”

“I’ll let you know as soon as they do.”

Just how important could these people be…?

I clicked my tongue and hung up the phone.

The hostesses present were the so-called “Roses,” the most expensive women in the establishment. Their nickname might be childish, but their looks and figures rivaled those of top models. They were not the type to be idling in the hallway waiting for guests. Even the manager had pestered me about tidying up my appearance. For them to be this concerned about the counter attendant’s attire, today’s guests were certainly someone of significance.

Once again, I glanced at the back door. Beyond the wide-open glass doors, there was nothing but deep, cold darkness.

Suddenly, it felt strange. It was too quiet. The back door faced an alley. Since it connected to the main road, pedestrians often passed through, and sounds of drunkards shouting from the labyrinthine side streets were common. It was usually noisy. But at some point, even the slightest sounds and movements had completely vanished.

A bad feeling crept in. I strained to listen, staring into the darkness. Slowly, faint sounds began to emerge in the silence. A whistle and the sound of boots.

Suddenly, a clear intuition flashed through my mind.

Wolfscott?

A cold chill ran through my body. The Guiger officers were surely blocking all the approaching pedestrians and drunks. It seemed they were cordoning off an entire radius of one kilometer.

I dialed the kitchen again.

“They’ll be arriving soon. Please be ready.”

At my words, the Roses quickly composed themselves. A tense silence filled the room. It was a drizzly night. Chilled damp air constantly flowed in from the back door, which had been open for over 30 minutes, but I stood still, barely feeling the cold.

Now, the shouts of the Guiger officers were clearly audible even here. In the distance, I could see them moving in groups down the main road. They were driving off pedestrians from the alley without hesitation. It looked like at least a hundred were deployed.

I even saw jeeps blocking off the alleyway, preventing any access to the main road. The alley was quickly enveloped in darkness, like a black sea filling up.

Of all things, Wolfscott. What a strange meeting this is.

I couldn’t help but chuckle.

What fools. At this rate, even a child would recognize that Wolfscott had descended upon 42nd Street. I didn’t know which nobles had brought Wolfscott here, but the money they spent to buy silence had just been thrown into the wind.

Of course, for someone like me, a bit of extra cash was always welcome.

I was stifling a laugh when I froze. From deep within the darkness of the alley, shadowy figures began to emerge. The sound of boots striking the stone pavement echoed in rhythm. As they broke through the misty night, their forms became clearer. Tall men.

A shiver ran down my spine. These were the Guiger captains. Each of them wore silver masks, and their presence was terrifying. All were extraordinarily tall, with imposing builds. They were fearsome. In that moment, I fully understood the terror a condemned man must feel when the hooded executioners approach on a medieval gallows.

The hostesses and employees waiting in the hallway were equally overwhelmed, not daring to make a sound. I straightened my posture, recalling Messon’s warning to maintain a poker face.

How many were there?

The titles of the captains I had learned from Wolfscott numbered five. Under the chief Snake, there were Leopard, Copperhead, Vulture, and Jaguar—all individuals Wolfscott particularly guarded against.

The deathly figures finally revealed themselves from the shadows. Eleven in total. Who among them could be Snake? Was it that one?

The man at the front stood out, holding a whip.

They entered through the back door. The man with the whip came to a halt. He turned his head slightly in my direction. Hoping my composure hadn’t slipped, I stepped out from behind the counter.

Usually, it would suffice to just tell them the room number, but today I had to personally escort them.

“Please follow me.”

With just those words, I led them to the room. The sound of boots following closely behind made sweat pour down my back. The designated room was in the hallway connected to the back door. Though it wasn’t far from the counter, by the time I reached the door, my clothes were soaked with sweat, clinging to my back.

I opened the door. The man with the whip snapped his fingers. The captains lined up along the hallway, their movements precise, like machines.

I returned to the back door. Walking through the deathly still line of captains, my legs trembled. Behind me, the man with the whip followed.

So, he’s Snake…

I stood back at the counter. From the back door, the sound of loud laughter broke through the rain. Wolfscott was there, surrounded by nobles holding umbrellas. I couldn’t help but frown.

Among the group was Stasoff. It was just yesterday that I had crossed paths with him, and now I had to see him again today. It left me feeling uneasy.

The nobles surrounding Wolfscott were all young. I recognized them immediately—Release. I tilted my head in confusion. Release wasn’t close enough with Wolfscott to be going out drinking together. Yet today, they were busy groveling at Wolfscott’s feet.

What could this be?

“Welcome.”

The staff of the Labyrinth greeted them in unison. Snake gave Wolfscott a light nod. Then, turning swiftly, he led Wolfscott and the Rilize nobles into the room.

Rilize was already causing a commotion, hugging the Roses. Wolfscott chuckled, saying, “It’s been a while since I’ve had fun commoner-style, and it’s making me nervous.” It was ridiculous to see a man in his sixties acting so silly.

Snake closed the door and stood in front of the room. A loud noise erupted from inside.

Finally, I felt the tension start to ease and sat down on a chair. The division heads lined up in the hallway didn’t make a single move, resembling statues. I now understood why Lord Manen said that just approaching them would make nobles faint.

I had to stay with these people for hours.

I drank some water, but my hand holding the glass trembled slightly. A sudden cold breeze snapped me out of my thoughts.

I had been so tense that I hadn’t even closed the back door. I quickly got up, shut the door, and returned to my seat behind the counter, trying not to glance at the division heads as I sat back down.

I caught my reflection in the glass door and let out a bitter smile.

What a sight.

The manager had yelled at me earlier, saying my hair was practically sweeping the floor, so I’d tied it up with a cloth. On top of that, I was wearing a fancy Chinese outfit that Madam Vera had specially lent me for the day. To others, I probably looked like a decent flower of the night.

Pathetic. Here I was, a man, sitting in a bar like this, doing such a great job. If Marata were alive to see me now, she’d probably collapse into bed in despair.

And it had to be for Wolfscott, of all people. I had to spend hours with the Guiger division heads I was targeting.

It felt strange. I had seen them several times on the streets before. Even back then, I was afraid, but seeing them up close now was something else entirely. It wasn’t just their appearance; they themselves were terrifying. I knew well enough the horrifying deeds they had committed. Unlike Lord Manen, who preferred poisoning, these men’s assassination methods were brutally cruel. Even the police didn’t mess with Guiger. In fact, they were on friendly terms. The police detested the protesters who rampaged through the streets daily and turned a blind eye to Guiger’s acts of kidnapping, torturing, and killing tattooed nobles.

These men before me were the leadership of Guiger. For the first time, it hit me. I was up against truly dangerous men.

What if they caught me and dragged me off?

God had given Ray Arisa a cowardly nature. There was only one thought in my mind: Should I just quit everything right now?

I had already confessed I was living on borrowed time.

Opera music echoed. In the corridors of the Labyrinth, there was always soft music playing, usually opera or symphonies. As I absentmindedly listened to the music, I slipped into thought.

Do these men follow along to such drinking parties as well?

It didn’t add up. Escorting nobles to parties, sure, but to come along even to something as trivial as a drinking session?

I knew that Wolfscott despised and looked down on them, but I didn’t expect it to this extent. These men were the true brains behind Wolfscott. Wouldn’t they feel humiliated by such treatment?

The division heads were reflected in the glass door. There was not even the slightest movement. From Snake guarding the room to the last one standing at the left end of the counter, they were all just standing still. Wolfscott wasn’t even watching them, yet they remained silent. Not even a whisper, not even a breath. If you looked at them, they seemed like loyal subordinates armored with unshakable loyalty.

An aria echoed.

“Forever forsaken, forever impoverished, forever destroyed…”

That’s my story.

I chuckled quietly. Time passed. It was already close to four o’clock. The noise from the room could be heard from the counter. The employees busily carried drinks back and forth. My vision grew a bit hazy.

Before I knew it, I was dozing off, leaning back in the chair with my head hanging down. Someone was gently playing with my hair. It was a soft, tender touch. There was only one person who would stroke my hair like this. Even though I knew it couldn’t be, I quickly opened my eyes.

“Huh…”

A faint groan escaped me without thinking. It was Stasoff. My body was frozen, as if bound. Even at first glance, Stasoff was heavily intoxicated.

“You really dressed up nicely today. Though, it would’ve been better if you wore something that showed off your figure more… such a shame, huh?”

Stasoff smirked. I quickly grabbed my glass and drank water, but it spilled between my trembling fingers.

This guy…

“Do you know how many hours I waited last night?”

Even in his drunken state, Stasoff lowered his voice, probably aware of the division heads. I didn’t respond. A passing staff member flinched at the scene.

“I’m asking you. Why aren’t you answering? Do you know how many hours I waited?”

His drunken eyes were fully red. I tried to stay calm.

“I don’t know.”

Stasoff laughed, but his expression showed he was clearly annoyed by my answer. The staff member hesitated and slowly approached.

“Excuse me, sir. This person is not a hostess but a regular employee…”

Before the staff member could finish speaking, Stasoff sharply turned around. A loud slap echoed. Despite being drunk, his movement was swift.

“Just get the drinks, you lowly servant!”

The trembling staff member hastily ran off. Stasoff chuckled and leaned closer on the counter, supporting himself with his arms. I scooted my chair back. His insistent gaze scanning me was unsettling. The constant smell of alcohol coming from beneath his mustache made me feel sick.

Stasoff spat out his words as if scratching them with his teeth.

“What did you do with the business card I gave you?”

“I don’t have it.”

“…You don’t have it?”

“I threw it away.”

My nerves were on edge. Normally, I would have kept silent. But lately, I had become so sensitive that I could hardly restrain myself, even considering assassination over a small provocation.

Stasoff’s eyes twitched.

“You lowlife dare to disrespect me?”

“It’s unbecoming for a noble to cling to a lowlife. Go back to your room.”

Slap. A loud sound echoed from my cheek. It took a moment for me to gather my senses.

“Stand up, you wench. Get up right now.”

“Let go…”

The chair toppled over. Stasoff forcibly dragged me away from the bar counter. For a moment, my head throbbed. Instinctively, I grabbed a water glass and splashed its contents right into Stasoff’s face.

“You!”

Stasoff’s eyes widened, his drunkenness fading instantly. Without warning, he grabbed a fistful of my hair and began dragging me. The cloth that tied my hair fell, and my hair spilled out in a rush.

Despite the commotion, the department heads stood still, not moving an inch. It seemed they intended to remain uninvolved no matter what happened.

“Can’t you stay still? What’s a whore like you doing acting up? Do you even know who I am?”

Stasoff grabbed me tightly from behind, covering my mouth.

“I’ll give you a nice tip, so just come quietly. It’s not your first time with a man, is it? Acting all innocent, are you? Just take off your panties and spread your legs. I’ll pay you well.”

He was incredibly strong. No matter how much I struggled, I couldn’t break free. Soon, Stasoff stopped in front of a room, a little distance from Wolfscott’s suite.

“Hey, hey. Open the door.”

A department head stood by the door.

“Open it, can’t you see I’m busy? Are you deaf? Huh?”

The department head didn’t even acknowledge him. Stasoff was seething. I couldn’t see his face, but the trembling of his body was filled with anger.

“Lowlifes, all of them… Ugh.”

Stasoff let go of my mouth and reached for the door handle. Taking advantage of the moment, I elbowed him hard in the stomach.

“Ugh!”

He staggered, and I immediately turned and ran down the hallway.

“You wretch!”

His furious voice echoed behind me. Around the corner, there was a staircase leading to the basement. I ran as fast as I could, Stasoff’s shouts still following me.

“You! Hey, you! If you don’t catch that wench, you’ll be in trouble with Japonica!”

My eyes widened. The department head by the corner moved slightly. I couldn’t believe it. It felt like I was dreaming. The mere mention of “Japonica” made him move instantly, and the fear overwhelmed me.

Suddenly, I felt pressure on my shoulder. In an instant, the department head grabbed my shoulder and spun me around, shoving me forward roughly. I nearly stumbled right into Stasoff but barely escaped, staggering away. Stasoff grinned at me with his bloodshot eyes, muttering, “Oh, this is getting interesting.”

I ran back toward the back exit.

“You, by the counter on the left. Catch that wench and bring her to me. If you don’t, Japonica will be very angry. If you don’t want to lose your job, you better listen.”

Stasoff’s voice rang out cheerfully, as if he was enjoying how quickly the department heads responded to the mention of Japonica. The department head on the left of the counter immediately blocked the back exit. His movements were smooth and precise. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might burst out of my chest. I looked around frantically. Behind me, Stasoff was slowly approaching with a smirk, while the department heads stood on either side like executioners. There was no escape. It felt like I was trapped in a cage of iron bars. I thought I might go mad.

“Come on, now. Let’s stop this. You should be honored to serve me, yet you don’t even realize it, you wench.”

Stasoff moved in to grab me. I managed to break free and ran forward, tears streaming down my face. I turned a corner but froze. The department head who had shoved me earlier was there. I turned in the opposite direction, toward Wolfscott’s room. I knew where I was, but I was no longer thinking clearly.

Suddenly, I collided with someone. Looking down, I saw a whip.

It was Snake.

“Hey, hey. Hold that wench down for me. Honestly, it’s taking this much trouble just to strip one whore’s panties?”

Stasoff was now walking toward us, his attitude much calmer. Snake didn’t move an inch.

“Come on. Let’s go.”

Stasoff approached from behind, wrapping his arms around me and groping me. My eyes, unfocused, drifted upward. Slowly, the blurred scene came into focus. Someone was looking down at me. Their gray eyes.

Without thinking, I murmured, “Help me…”

“This wench still hasn’t learned, huh?” Stasoff sneered.

At that moment, Snake moved. Or at least, it seemed like he had moved. His actions were so fast that I barely registered it. In an instant, he grabbed Stasoff by the collar and lifted him into the air. His strength was terrifying. Stasoff let out a confused, dumbfounded sound, “W-what the…”

Snake forcefully swung open the door to Wolfscott’s room.

Music and laughter flooded out loudly. Inside, everyone—men and women alike—was completely naked. Wolfscott and his entourage, who had been drunkenly fooling around, froze in surprise.

Wolfscott, about to take a sip from his glass, set it down.

“What… what’s going on?”

Snake threw Stasoff into the room and slammed the door shut. A brief silence followed from inside. Snake then grabbed me by the arm and dragged me toward the counter. We were moving so fast it was almost a sprint. He shoved me roughly back behind the counter.

I sat there absentmindedly. It was only a moment later that I realized the sound of footsteps fading away.

There was a noise from the other side of the hallway. It was Mr. Messon and the staff.

“I heard about it. You must be very shocked. I’ll take over the counter.”

Mr. Messon signaled to the staff. With their support, I barely managed to stand. As I turned the corner of the hallway, I glanced back.

Snake was entering the room.

꙳•❅*ִ

I felt terrible. Like I had been slammed upside down into the mud.

I couldn’t even take off my mask because of the officer who was handling the wheel. We were on our way back to the headquarters after escorting Lord Wolfscott from a drinking party. If I had been the one driving the jeep, I would have slammed the steering wheel in frustration.

The inside of the jeep was quiet. Leopard and Copperhead were seated with me. They, too, remained silent. Likely because of the humiliation from the drinking duty, but I didn’t care. All I could think about was smoking. As soon as we arrived at headquarters, I tore off my mask and threw it aside.

I pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and poured vodka into a glass. My hands trembled slightly. I downed the vodka and threw the glass at the wall. It shattered with a sharp sound.

It was Ray. The moment I saw him standing at the back counter, I almost lost my mind. Never before had I been more thankful for the damn mask.

Why did it have to be at that place?

It wasn’t as if he was a host. If he had been, I might have gone mad. I might have killed Ray right there and then taken my own life. I was capable of that.

I know it sounds ridiculous. Ray and I were already over. I had no right to care whether he sold his face or his smile. Even so, I couldn’t control myself.

I took a deep drag of the cigarette. The image of Stasoff stumbling toward Ray flashed before my eyes. It was utterly grotesque. The way his eyes swept over Ray’s sleeping form, the way his hand fiddled with Ray’s hair—it was disgusting. He was completely entranced. If it hadn’t been for the managers, I would have pinned Ray down on the spot.

Blood rushed backward through my veins the entire time Stasoff made a spectacle of himself. I was on the verge of tearing out his eyes, breaking his fingers, and cutting out his tongue.

From what I observed, Ray didn’t just dislike the gaze of others—he was deeply tormented by it. I had been careful not to look at his face except during sex. But Stasoff stared at him with bloodshot eyes. To Ray, that alone must have been torture.

By protocol, I should have stayed put. I should have restrained myself, suppressed my growing rage. That was the rule, and Ray and I were already over. It didn’t matter whether he was humiliated or not. But the moment our eyes met and I saw the wet glint in Ray’s eyes, my mind went blank. In front of me, his hair dripped like blood.

I moved before I thought. I only came to my senses afterward. Lord Wolfscott was furious and summoned me to his room to scold me. For 20 minutes, in front of a bunch of naked young nobles and prostitutes, I was humiliated with a barrage of curses. Ironically, it was Stasoff who eventually calmed Lord Wolfscott down. Only after taking a hit did he seem to regain his composure and try to smooth things over.

As Stasoff left the labyrinth, he pressured the counter staff to find out where Ray was staying. The thought of that man harassing Ray sent my blood boiling.

No, there must have been another reason.

I let out a bitter laugh. As I watched Stasoff stagger away, I saw myself in him. If no one had been watching, I would have behaved no differently. I would have chased after Ray as he fled. I could have done it. After all, I’m a drunk too. Drunk on the alcohol of love.

A faint dawn light seeped through the blinds. It was seven o’clock. What had I been dreaming of 24 hours ago, as I drove toward headquarters? I had fantasized about a happy coincidence in a park covered in white snow. I imagined supporting Ray’s flaxen hair as it scattered toward me, embarking on a fresh start. And that coincidence did occur.

Only, it had prepared a stage of utter mockery. Not in some white park, but in a bar stained with filth.

I followed that dim tunnel, trailing behind the flaxen-haired figure who led the way, saying, “Follow me,” while I wore the mask of a grotesque conspiracy. I just watched as he ran down the hallway. His blue eyes filled with fear, and I couldn’t make a sound. Instead of offering support, I pushed him away with a whip in hand. That was the end.

I took a swig of vodka straight from the bottle. I couldn’t just sit still like this. I decided to take care of Stasoff.

I had already made up my mind to crush Rilize. Stasoff, along with Altonen, was leading Rilize. He would make a fitting example. I planned to make Rilize realize their place. All this talk about the warrior aristocracy—how much blood had they really spilled?

For all they were, just a gentleman’s club.

I scoffed. Rilize thought they could control everything by cozying up to Lord Wolfscott. They intended to manipulate Lord Wolfscott to get rid of the managers and seize Guiger for themselves. What a delusion.

Guiger as it stands now wasn’t something Lord Wolfscott could control. I was going to make that clear. I decided to use Stasoff as the stick to beat their arrogance out of them.

Just for calling Ray “bitch” over and over, that man deserved to die. Ray hated that title. I vividly remember how, on our first night in the hotel, when Leopard and I called him that, Ray immediately started getting dressed, ready to leave. That was the last time I saw his face distort like that.

I paused as I was about to light a cigarette.

Was that why Leopard’s comment had enraged me so much…?

Ha, ha, ha. How absurd.

Among gay men, it’s actually common to call a bottom “bitch,” “queen,” or “lady.” Some bottoms even requested it. Even the sideburns crowd did that. Leopard had every right to be annoyed at my reaction. I smirked.

“Are you in?”

There was a knock. It was Leopard.

“Aren’t you going to eat?”

Copperhead also entered the office with him. They locked the door, took off their masks, and lit their cigarettes.

At dinner last night, the topic of the eunuchs came up. The managers were furious. They almost lost their minds.

It was understandable. We were the key players who had made significant contributions to Lord Wolfscott’s ascent to Japonica. We fully believed we would be rewarded. But now that things were going this way, of course, they were enraged. Especially the married ones—Vulture, Sturgeon, and Jaguar—they were the most furious. They must have been thinking about their wives and children.