The Snow Queen

I gathered the dark energy. I observed it for a long time, but it remained quiet. Was it because Wolfscott’s threats had intimidated it? But Snake wasn’t the type to give up this easily…

I reported the findings to Lord Manen.

“Then I suppose there’s no problem if I accept the cookies from Gryphon Co. What do you think?”

“Do as you wish, sir.”

I had a bad feeling, but I spat out the words in frustration.

I could already see the mess Lord Manen had made, so advising him would be pointless. The bidding day was just around the corner, and Lord Manen was becoming frantic. Thanks to that, I could say goodbye with relief.

“Then, as I mentioned earlier, today will mark the end of our relationship. I wish you God’s blessing.”

Lord Manen remained silent. But I could see it all. His true thoughts scattered before me like a cascade of words—distrust, shock, and anger mixed together.

I gave a bitter smile.

“Take care.”

I ended the call and let time pass for a while. I felt blank, too.

It had been ten years. For a whole decade, we had talked endlessly, almost like lovers, through countless phone calls. He was my only conversation partner. It felt so strange to end things like this.

I looked down at my phone. I wouldn’t need it anymore, I guess.

Only belatedly did emotions toward Lord Manen flood in. Now that I thought about it, he was the only person who had mourned my supposed death.

Should I call him back and tell him not to accept the cookies?

An indescribable sense of foreboding had settled in. It wasn’t just a usual bad feeling. Despite the dark energy, Wolfscott, and Hoffman not presenting any immediate disadvantage for Lord Manen, I couldn’t shake this ominous vibe.

Was it because of Whitebirch?

A tight, suffocating feeling lingered in my chest. Regardless, I decided to check myself into the hospital today. I couldn’t go on like this. I would have to step out eventually for Marata’s memorial service, but… Just as I was about to take a sip of coffee, there was a knock on the door.

“You in there?”

It was Mr. Rudd from the room across the hall.

“What can I help you with?”

“Well, you see…”

Mr. Rudd hesitated.

“Yes?”

“It’s about that blonde man who was looking for you. Truth is… I have some money to collect from him.”

Surprised, I responded, “Huh?”

“Money…? What do you mean?”

Mr. Rudd awkwardly took off his glasses and started cleaning them.

“The blonde guy gave me some money when he asked about your whereabouts. He said he’d give me three times as much if I provided information. So, I asked Ellie about you and found out where you were. But after that, he never came back here… Sigh. You know, a promise is a promise. It’s not right to just disappear like that, is it?”

“Hahaha…”

I let out an awkward laugh.

“…I’m sorry, but I don’t have my friend’s contact information. Maybe you could wait? He’ll probably show up eventually. Anyway, I’ll be going now…”

I was about to close the door when Mr. Rudd quickly grabbed it.

“Wait, wait! I have his phone number. Could you reach out to him for me? You’re directly involved after all. I’d feel awkward making the call myself.”

“You have Messara’s phone number…?”

Mr. Rudd handed me a piece of paper with a phone number on it. I sat blankly on the bed, staring at the note. I knew I shouldn’t call. I was a mess, and my future was uncertain.

But what if I couldn’t endure the torture and ended up dead? In that case, this call might be my last. I didn’t know what the outcome would be, but one thing was certain—this was an opportunity.

Whitebirch’s voice, absorbed in her spell, buzzed in my ears as I sank deeper into thought. An overwhelming urge began to grip me.

Stupid Whitebirch.

Stupid Ray Arisa.

Before I knew it, my fingers were already pressing the buttons. I swallowed hard as the phone rang a few times. Then, there was a click.

“Yes. What is it?”

The voice was indifferent. It felt so different from when I had heard it in person. The playful, courteous tone he once used with me was nowhere to be found. Even unconsciously, I found myself doubting if this was really Messara.

There was a cacophony of noise on the other side—men shouting and murmuring, all blending together. Were they Messara’s friends? Or perhaps his colleagues?

When I didn’t respond, a brief silence passed on the other end. Messara spoke again.

“I said, what is it?”

There was a hint of irritation in his voice.

“…Is this Four Messara’s phone?”

“…….”

“I’m sorry. I must’ve dialed the wrong number.”

“Wait. Don’t hang up. You’ve called the right number.”

The sound of Messara moving away, mingling with the bustling noise, gradually faded.

“Ray?”

“…Yes.”

There was a brief silence.

Why had I called? Bitter regret crept in. Hadn’t I heard that Messara had stopped looking for me after hearing rumors I had been living with a woman? Meanwhile, I spent time entangled with men whose names and faces I didn’t even know.

Hadn’t I known better? Hadn’t I remembered Birch Forest vividly? The lesson from that event was clear: don’t act irresponsibly. And yet, why was I doing something so reckless now? A wave of overwhelming frustration pierced through me.

Messara cleared his throat quietly.

“Ray. Where are you?”

“…At my house.”

Messara cursed softly under his breath.

“Stay right there and don’t move. I’ll be there immediately.”

My mind went blank, but the words flowed out smoothly.

“There’s no need for that. I’m about to leave for somewhere.”

“Leave for where? Where exactly are you going?” Messara asked urgently. I bit my lip. I had no idea how to explain.

“Ray, calm down and listen to me. I think there’s been a misunderstanding. I have something to say—something I must say. Can’t you wait just for today? Please, I’m begging you.”

I wanted to say yes, immediately. But I couldn’t. I slapped my cheek repeatedly. What was the greatest gift God gave you? Wasn’t it your composure?

Get it together, Ray Arisa.

“Please, at least tell me where you’re going. I’ll come to you. Is it the house of that female employee at the Labyrinth? Do you have feelings for her?”

His voice was full of anger. My face flushed with heat.

“No, it’s not like that with her. I can’t tell you where I’m going. I… I just….”

“Ray, listen to me carefully. Please don’t take this the wrong way. I heard from the neighbors. They say something is off with you lately. Stop being stubborn and wait for me. You need protection. I’ll be there in an hour. Just one hour.”

“Don’t!” I shouted instinctively. My head spun.

I couldn’t tell him I was getting hospitalized. I couldn’t confess my uncertain future. What should I do? What on earth could I do?

No, everything was a lie.

The truth was, I wanted to see him. It was a desperate, almost unbearable desire. It pushed me toward a steep slope, beyond my control. It felt like being swept away by waves. I became aware of myself whispering, “Then…” but I couldn’t stop it. It was close to madness.

“I’ll meet you the day after tomorrow. At midnight. Exit 4 of Negeline Station.”

“The day after tomorrow? Where will you be until then?”

“I’ll explain then. Yes, I know something is wrong with me. I know that very well. So….”

“Are you going to a hospital?”

I remained silent.

“Tell me the name of the hospital.”

“I can’t.”

“….”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“Wait. At least give me your phone number. You’ve set it up so your number doesn’t show when you call.”

“I’ll contact you.”

I had to hang up now. I couldn’t push him any further like this. I felt it clearly—Messara loved me. His emotions surged across the distance, overwhelming and uncontrollable. I felt like I was suffocating, like I was being evaporated by scorching sunlight. The mixture of happiness and despair left me breathless.

There was someone waiting for me.

Someone who loved me and was waiting for me.

“Then… I’ll see you the day after tomorrow.”

“Ray.”

“Yes?”

A tense silence passed.

“I love you.”

I blinked.

What had I just heard? He said, “I love you.” Four Messara had just resolutely whispered love to Ray Arisa.

“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name, would smell as sweet….”

No, that’s not right.

Names matter to me.

Flowers wither, and their fragrance fades. Love is different from roses. It’s not a rose that one-sidedly releases its scent. It can’t be completed by one person alone.

Because you didn’t say your name, you met a cruel death. You left only your scent behind and fled, leading to your ruin and burial in a wasteland. That’s why even now, you wonder and doubt. Did the king truly love me…?

Stop it! He didn’t love you!

You are you. I am me.

“So do I.”

I am different from you. I am Ray Arisa.

“Ray Arisa loves Four Messara.”

I will not live like you.

Messara didn’t react for a moment, but I knew. I could feel his emotions clearly beyond the phone.

“Is that true?”

Messara asked. I was pleased by his doubt.

“Yes.”

I confirmed my love for him.

“I love you.”

“Say it one more time.”

“I love you.”

“Once more.”

He asked repeatedly, and each time, I firmly responded.

That I loved him.

“Let’s meet at midnight the day after tomorrow. I’ll explain everything then.”

After hanging up, I changed my clothes and left the house. The hospital I had reserved was two stops from Negelain Station. A 30-minute walk from Negelain Station would take me to the cemetery where Marata was buried.

The day after tomorrow was Marata’s death anniversary. I had no choice but to make this outing. I thought I could visit Marata’s grave in the evening and then meet Messara at midnight. As I walked along the snow-covered path, I gazed up at the sky.

After Orchitunica had pierced through my past life memories, I suffered from hallucinations and auditory illusions until I was seventeen, haunted by memories of my past life. It was a painfully vivid experience. Sometimes I would lock myself in a room, staring out the window for hours, and other times I was tormented by cruel torture. The memories of my soul relentlessly tormented and crushed me.

The contract with Lord Manen succeeded in binding my powers. But it was only a partial success. The euphoria of release was fleeting.

The memories began to resurface in another form, slowly revealing themselves. They started to play out in the order Whitebirch had lived. It was the worst-case scenario. The memories playing out chronologically meant I would have to endure the two months of torture all over again.

Why?

Even with the contract in place, Orchitunica persisted for only one reason: “love” had left behind the power of clairvoyance. And I was born a clairvoyant. It was a side effect. Whenever I spoke with my primary target, Lord Manen, there were moments when the vividness of it all made my skin crawl. And the other target, my own self, was even worse. My clairvoyance was too strong to be entirely bound by love.

I felt suffocated. I bought a cigarette from a street vending machine and lit one.

Daytanz…

Lately, I’d been increasingly obsessed with thoughts of Whitebirch. It was painful, but inevitable.

Whitebirch endured torture while waiting for the king for two months. She was certain that, at least once, the king would personally interrogate her. What finally led Whitebirch to death was the “Iron Maiden” torture device. A hundred and fifty spikes tore her body apart. Ray Arisa collapsed with a heart attack when that torture resurfaced. I wasn’t sure I could endure the pain again when it came.

You’re such a fool.

I will never forgive Daytanz. He blinded Whitebirch with sweet poison, stood by as the queen ordered her torture, and finally had her body buried in the wasteland without any remorse. Even though Whitebirch longed for Daytanz, Ray Arisa will always hate him.

You deserve to be punished. You should feel the suffering that Whitebirch and I endured. You should experience our despair and pain. If Daytanz exists in this time and space, I would curse him without hesitation. Even the gods would grant me vengeance, patting my shoulder in encouragement. They would place scales in my left hand, a sword in my right, and let me cast him into hell.

And I will live. I will fight through it. I will overcome Whitebirch, leave behind the remnants of memories, and walk to the far beyond.

꙳•❅*ִ

“Where did you go?”

Cooperhead asked in annoyance. The managers of Guiger, field agents, reporters from the East Eden newspaper, prosecutors, and police officers were all in the middle of a brainstorming session. The head of the organization had suddenly left, so their irritation was understandable.

Flipping through the stack of documents on the table, I answered nonchalantly, “Nothing much.” I silently thanked my cursed mask once again. My heart was racing.

Ray Arisa loves Four Messara.

That sentence kept replaying in my mind.

Ray Arisa loves Four Messara.

It felt like something was strangling me. It was a miracle. I couldn’t believe the reality of a few minutes ago. It wasn’t the delusional Ray, but the clear-headed Ray who spoke to me. The Ray who had once only referred to me as “man,” now, in a firm and unwavering voice, said, Ray Arisa loves Four Messara.

Was this how a salmon feels when it finally returns to the place of its birth? After an endlessly exhausting journey, I felt I had finally arrived. I had endlessly pondered while stroking Ray’s hair as he slept. What would he say when he came to his senses?

Me too. Ray Arisa loves Four Messara.

I asked over and over again. I repeatedly sought confirmation. Each time, he responded.

That he loved me.

“Manen is scheduled to meet Gryphon’s lobbyists at 4 p.m. tomorrow. We’ve been tracking his every move without missing a beat.”

A field agent’s words snapped me back to attention.

“We confirmed that Gryphon’s lobbyists converted the cookies into cash and packaged them. It seems to be a precaution against account tracing.”

“So all we have to do is raid the meeting tomorrow?”

“Yes, we can proceed with the arrests. We have enough justification with the information we’ve gathered so far.”

Interlacing my fingers, I leaned back in my chair. Whether or not Manen decided to accept the cookies tomorrow didn’t matter. He was already a dead man. We’d taken care of all the procedures. The prosecutors we were working with had been close friends of those Manen had murdered. Their determination burned with intensity.

“Good. Let’s move forward tomorrow.”

Back in the office, I took off the mask and lit a cigarette. I couldn’t calm down easily. Ray had confirmed that my feelings weren’t one-sided. Manen’s downfall was imminent. Everything was falling into place.

I love you.

How badly I had wanted to hear that. You could never understand how much I had craved those words. Even during sex with Leopard, I felt an inexplicable anger when you avoided eye contact. I’d wondered if you only did that with me and became furious.

Incredibly, I think I was already captivated by you back then. Like the grains of sand slipping through the hourglass, my emotions had already started to fall, and every drop was directed at you. An overwhelming sense of helplessness surrounded me. I knew for certain: I had nothing left to give to anyone else. My feelings were completely spent. You had taken everything. You had deprived me of it all. There would be no second, no third. No one could ever replace you. I was suffocated by you. You were all I had left.

I sipped Scotch whisky and tried to organize my thoughts. Where could Ray have been hospitalized?

It would take about three days for Ray’s hospitalization record to appear on the Social Safety Network. It was now noon. The maid had said she would arrive at ten, which meant Ray had likely regained consciousness and left right after I went to work. The timing was uncanny. Uncanny enough to make me feel a surge of frustration.

Still, it wasn’t all bad. The fact that Ray was making an effort to treat his illness himself was a hopeful sign.

I wouldn’t lose him again. I couldn’t bear the thought of letting him slip away from me. The time until the day after tomorrow already seemed unbearable.

There was a knock at the door. It was Leopard.

“Hmph, I knew it. I had a feeling when you bolted outside during that meeting to take down Manen, clutching your phone. It was a call from Redfox, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

Leopard always seemed uneasy when Ray was mentioned.

“Having fun? Stabbing me in the back and living it up with him—does that make you happy? Huh?”

“Yeah. I’m happy.”

I had no choice but to answer. Leopard held a cigarette between his lips but stopped before lighting it, glaring at me intently, speechless with disbelief.

“Well, this is something. I’m genuinely shocked. Someone I thought wouldn’t fall in love is suddenly like a dam that’s burst.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, Chief. It’s astonishing. I never imagined you’d get seriously involved with someone like this.”

Neither did I. But now, I couldn’t shake the wild thought that maybe I was born into this world just to meet Ray.

“By the way,” Leopard glanced at me sideways.

Hmm…

I clasped my hands together. Leopard only gave those sidelong glances when he had something to say.

“I heard from Copperhead. You said you’d reveal this whole operation to Lord Wolfscott right before taking down Manen.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Are you serious?”

I wasn’t surprised by the question. I’d already expected Leopard to vaguely guess my intentions.

“Who knows.”

I shrugged lightly. Leopard flicked the ash off his cigarette and took a deep drink of Scotch.

“Well, anyway, I’m prepared to follow your orders, no matter what. And if I am, you can bet the other directors will be too. We’ve always been rivals, you and me, ahead of the pack.”

I smiled.

For that very reason, I kept Leopard close, occasionally showing him glimpses of my true nature. Fear is the simplest way to control people.

Leopard stood up, his expression complicated.

“Let’s do this right. Everyone knows you’re not the type to stop at just being Chief. That’s why you’ve got to do this well. You’re our leader. If you crumble, it’s not just you—it’s Guiger as a whole. You understand that, don’t you?”

“Who do you think I am?”

I answered sharply.

Crumble? Me?

Ha, not a chance.

All that lies ahead for me is to keep running.

Leopard poured more whisky into my glass. “Let’s drink to that,” he said.

I raised my glass and said, “Just follow my lead.”

Leopard nodded.

“You have my full trust.”

We clinked glasses.

I despised shallow friendships, school ties, and bloodlines. After becoming Chief, I trusted no one and spent years carefully observing the directors. I made them realize, through slow patience, exactly what kind of person I was. I manipulated them to fear me, and in the end, to trust me completely.

Trust doesn’t breed lies or betrayal. In this ugly world of schemes and plots, trust was a far more useful tool than friendship or family ties. The disaster that would soon befall Lord Wolfscott was because he had failed to trust me. And now, the trust the directors had in me was absolute. I planned to reward that trust in the most spectacular way.

The bedroom was empty. Only darkness filled the space. Shopping bags, clothes, and jewels were scattered everywhere, but Ray was gone. I paused while loosening my tie. The necklace I had given him lay shining, abandoned on the bed.

I tried to think positively. As soon as Ray had regained his senses, he must have wondered where he was. He must have realized he’d followed a complete stranger. He hadn’t taken any of the jewelry I’d bought for him and had left exactly as he’d arrived. I had to interpret that as him preserving his love for me.

Yet, a sense of melancholy washed over me. The memory of dressing him up and playing around in this room resurfaced vividly. My colleagues would have fainted if they had seen us. Even I was shocked at myself. The Chief of Guiger, playing dress-up with Ray, finding joy in such trivial things.

But now, he was gone. It felt like a mirage.

I didn’t receive any calls from Ray all day. What could he be doing? Where could he possibly be? If not for Manen, I might have sent out my men privately. It was unbelievable that someone like me, who so strictly separates business from personal matters, could feel this way. But there was no avoiding it. My feelings weren’t subsiding; instead, they were expanding, taking over more of me like a storm, controlling me. They made me lose my bearings, shaking me like a fierce, intense melody driving me forward. It was an overwhelming sensation, even for me.

I tried to sleep. Spending time alone was unbearable. The room where he had disappeared felt like a tomb.

I was in a terrible mood. Even by morning, I hadn’t received any calls from Ray. A sense of foreboding crept over me. I felt awful. I prided myself on having strong self-control, but I couldn’t understand why I was acting like this.

“A lobbyist has gone in.”

I barely paid attention to Leopard’s whisper beside me. We had been staking out for hours, waiting to arrest Manen. Sitting idly in a disguised car was making me restless.

Shady deals usually happen in secluded places. The spot where Manen was meeting the lobbyist was a quiet restaurant on the outskirts of the capital. It made our job of arresting him discreetly much easier.

“Did you give Lord Wolfscott a heads-up? Didn’t you say you’d tell him just before the operation?”

Cooperhead asked, and I shook my head. He was a smart one, and from the look on his face, he had already suspected as much.

“Of course.”

“Then why even ask?”

“Exactly.”

The tension was clear on Cooperhead’s face. Both Leopard and Cooperhead were nervous. Well, it’s only natural to be nervous when you’re about to take down the superior you’ve been serving for a decade…

But for now, Manen came first.

Shepherd will have his surprise, just like a Shepherd should.

I smirked. Today, Manen was in for a rough time. I was in a foul mood, and he was the perfect prey. Not just any prey either—once he was arrested, I planned to take him straight to Guiger’s underground torture chamber. I’d make him regret ever being born.

After the Catacombe project, the next in line was the media corruption case. And there were still dozens of other cases lined up. I would reveal every last bit of Manen’s filth and ensure his complete downfall. It would be worth it. The only reason Lord Wolfscott had never gotten ahead of Manen was that he never took extreme measures. I knew better. If you hit them lightly, they keep coming back. But if you crush them completely, they submit. When a person faces a life-or-death situation, they retreat; that’s human nature.

I planned to go wild from now on, with a madness so intense that people would be left speechless. The crazier I appeared, the easier my job would become.

I looked out the car window. The sky was a deep, ashy gray. The fir trees surrounding the restaurant looked sick, withered into a butter-milk color. A desolate wind was blowing through the dry trees, almost like the sobbing of a young girl. I wondered if this scene could be considered a good mise-en-scène. It looked like something out of a painting, and I was smiling.

But why had Manen come himself?

If it were me, I’d have sent a subordinate to pick up the cookies. Isn’t that common sense? In case things went wrong, you needed someone else to take the fall. I was honestly surprised to hear that Manen had come personally to receive the cookies from the lobbyists.

Lately, Manen had been acting strangely. He drank until he was drunk at parties, though he never skipped a handshake.

Well, it made my job easier.

The restaurant grew noisy. It seemed like my men had started the operation. I could hear screams and the sound of things breaking all the way from here.

Soon, the front doors flew open, and Manen, struggling and bound, was dragged out by my men. “Do you know who I am!” he yelled. “Who dares lay a hand on me! I’m Lotus! Lotus!” He was still spouting nonsense, acting arrogantly. He didn’t realize it yet, but his time was up. No, the era of Manen and Lord Wolfscott was over.

I enjoyed the spectacle. My men covered Manen completely in a sack and shoved him roughly into a Jeep. It was quite the sight. The picture was even better than I expected.

I smiled softly.

“Let’s head to HQ.”

Gloves on, I opened the door to the torture chamber. Manen sat in a chair, glaring at me. Even with all the other department heads behind me, he showed no sign of fear.

He probably thought the Catacombe case wasn’t a big deal. His face made it clear he believed it would only leave a small scratch on his reputation. Sure, it might not seem like a big deal. The public was already numb to the corruption of the nobles. But even a small crack could break a dam.

Silence hung between us. I wasn’t planning to speak first. This was a battle of wills.

“Let’s talk,” Manen finally said. I didn’t respond.

“Sit.”

He gestured to the chair across from him. I briefly dragged the chair back, but then suddenly lashed out, striking Manen’s chest with a whip. He collapsed with a scream.

“You’re still mistaken. There’s nothing to talk about. If you want to talk, go chat with some other lowlife.”

“You… you dare treat a Lotus like this…”

Manen stammered between coughs. I kicked him hard in the stomach. As he writhed on the floor, I leisurely followed him and stomped on him bit by bit. It was exhilarating.

What a bold thing to say—dare to mention being a Lotus, huh? The higher the rank, the sweeter the satisfaction of crushing them. Flaunting your title as a Lotus in front of me was your fatal mistake. Hahaha.

“Enjoying your life, reaping the benefits of your status?” I said as I whipped his back. “Writing letters to suck others’ blood must make you so happy,” I added, stomping on his nose. After I’d thoroughly beaten him, I pulled off my mask. It was my habit to show my face before killing a noble in the torture chamber. I smiled softly as I looked at Manen.

His face had gone pale. That was the usual reaction. He probably expected me to look like some kind of brute or thug. As much as it embarrassed me to admit, I was a fine-looking man with sharp features. In a word, I was well put together.

Finally, I sat down in the chair. As I took out a cigarette, Copperhead lit it for me with a Zippo lighter. His hand, like a woodpecker, trembled slightly. Not just him—every one of the division chiefs must have been feeling nervous. The reason I brought all of them to today’s interrogation was to instill a sense of shared guilt.

“It’s fine… just trust me.”

Smiling faintly, I ordered, “Strip that bastard. Leave nothing.” Vulture and Lizard stripped Manen naked. I took great pleasure in observing Manen’s pitiful, bare body. Now, perhaps realizing something, Manen stayed still.

After smoking the cigarette down to the end, I flicked it to the ground and stamped it out with my boot. I tapped the table lightly with my fingers and suddenly spoke.

“It must’ve been fun, going around reading people’s minds while rubbing your palms together, huh?”

Manen’s expression was quite a sight. His face twisted in a mix of shock and horror, and I found it amusing. A tremendous sense of pleasure swirled through my body. This guy was one of the few who had ever handed me a defeat. But in the end, I’m the one who gets the last laugh.

“Spit it out about that bastard.”

“Who are you talking about?”

I slowly stood up, taking dance-like steps as I approached Manen. I tilted his chin up with a whip, flashed a grin, and then punched him squarely in the mouth.

“Uwaaaaaaagh!”

His teeth flew through the air.

“How dare you pull this crap? Playing games? I’m talking about the guy who made you rub your palms together.”

“I don’t know anything about that.”

I whipped Manen across the face repeatedly. After twenty lashes, he couldn’t even open his eyes. I lifted his head and went straight into waterboarding. I fed him water until it turned red.

“Spit it out, quickly. And change that tone of yours. I can’t stand cockiness.”

“Rye… Ryeong is…”

“Ryeong?”

“Leave him be.”

I drove my fist into Manen’s stomach, and blood poured from his mouth.

“I told you to change your tone. And talk faster. His name, address, how you made contact—tell me everything.”

“I don’t know.”

I kept pouring water down his throat for another ten minutes.

“Change your tone.”

“Rye… Ryeong is…”

“Yeah, Ryeong?”

“I don’t… I don’t know his name or address either.”

Though his tone had turned submissive, he was still trying to put up a front. I broke a few of his fingers.

“Where’s this stubbornness coming from? Stop messing around and confess. You won’t like what happens if you make me angrier.”

“I’m telling the truth! I really don’t know! He hid his identity from me!”

He still wasn’t getting it. After 20 more minutes of waterboarding, I broke every single one of his fingers and toes. His swollen belly bulged as Manen wet himself.

“Talk now. Next up are your shins. Then I’ll pull out each of your teeth, one by one. Of course, you’ll start mumbling when your teeth are gone, so I’d rather avoid that. Let’s settle this before it comes to that.”

“I’m telling the truth. I can tell you how we made contact. Please, believe me. He hid his identity from me.”

Manen began sobbing. Finally, I stepped back from him and sat down in my chair.

“Sit him down.”

Leopard and Copperhead lifted Manen and seated him across from me.

“Talk. Ryeong hid his identity from you? Then how did you make contact?”

“We spoke… on the phone.”

I let out a small snort.

“Am I really supposed to believe that nonsense?”

Manen snapped his head up. His face was smeared with tears and blood, but his eyes still burned brightly.

“Don’t underestimate Ryeong’s abilities. If he hadn’t abandoned me, I wouldn’t be in this humiliating position right now.”

“What?”

I took a moment to think. Ryeong abandoned Manen?

Lately, Manen’s behavior had been a bit odd. He’d been drinking heavily at banquets, like a man dumped by his lover.

“Stop with the nonsense. Just yesterday, you were shaking hands with all kinds of people at the party.”

“That was in case Ryeong might call me again… It’s the truth. Please, believe me.”

I wasn’t one to struggle with telling truth from lies. Manen’s words rang true.

“Fine. In that case, call Ryeong right now and have him come here.”

“That’s not possible…”

“You son of a—”

At the fury in my voice, Manen curled up, covering his face with his arms.

“It’s true. Please, let me explain.”

“You still haven’t come to your senses, have you?”

I was about to stand up immediately, but Copperhead grabbed my shoulder to stop me. It was then that I regained my composure. I had gotten too absorbed in the bloodshed after so long. I decided to listen to what this guy had to say, no matter how much he rambled.

“Go ahead, ramble. Start from when you first got involved with Ryeong, and explain everything, including why you frequented 42nd Street like your life depended on it, only to suddenly stop going there ten years ago.”

Manen lowered his head with a face full of regret.

“My connection with Ryeong goes back 18 years. It started by chance. My wife was fond of witchcraft, so she often visited 42nd Street. Strangely enough, everything she did based on what she was told turned out to be accurate, so I asked her about it one day. She introduced me to a shaman. Back then, I had no idea that shaman was Ryeong. The name she used was Marata, the previous Ryeong who passed away ten years ago.”

I had been right. Ryeong had indeed changed ten years ago.

“At that time, I was overwhelmed, especially with Terence and the five-person council. It was a confusing period, so I went to see Marata, hoping for something. She told me that if I gave her twenty million Talanten, she would advise me for the rest of her life. She demanded it upfront.”

The division chiefs murmured. Even I was shocked by the staggering amount.

“And then?”

“At first, I hesitated. But the moment I saw the look in Marata’s eyes, I knew she wasn’t ordinary. So, that very day, I paid her the twenty million Talanten. Marata started telling me everything about my political enemies—their true feelings, their future plans, and so on.”

“And then?”

“Marata died ten years ago. Right after her funeral, I received a phone call. The caller claimed to be Marata’s successor.”

“Go on.”

I took out a cigarette, lit it, and waited. Finally, I was about to hear the story of the bastard who had messed with me.

Manen’s voice grew hazy, as if he were wandering through a dream.

“At first, I was skeptical. I had met with Marata for eight years, and she had never mentioned grooming a successor. I asked if this was a joke, and the person on the other end said:

I was shocked. The room I was in was a prayer room connected to the bedroom, and not even my wife could enter. The thought about meeting Ekdal was something I hadn’t shared with anyone.”

“So, I decided to meet this so-called successor of Ryeong. The location was Marata’s grave.”

Manen stopped speaking. His face was a mixture of sadness and loneliness.

“It was a night with a bright moon. I secretly went to Marata’s grave. At one point, the moon disappeared behind clouds, and snowflakes started to fall. No matter how long I waited, there was no sign of anyone near the grave, and I grew anxious.”

I was about to leave when I started hearing the faint sound of bells ringing from somewhere in the darkness. Suddenly, I was overwhelmed by a strange sensation. The sound of the bells seemed to grip my soul, and I stood frozen, staring into the darkness.

As time passed, Ryeong gradually revealed themselves. Slowly shaking a bell in one hand, they were dressed in a black shaman’s coat from head to toe. I couldn’t make out their face in the deep darkness, only their white hand holding the bell, moving silently toward me like a ghost.

Ryeong said that consultations over the phone would suffice for me. I couldn’t believe it. Even Marata needed shamanic tools.

Ryeong also said they wouldn’t charge me for consultations, and even offered to become my exclusive shaman. Ryeong’s rule was to only provide consultations for a hefty sum. But to offer themselves as my personal shaman for free—it was absurd.

When I asked why, Ryeong told me not to ask questions. Don’t ask about my name, age, or address. And unlike ordinary shamans, I won’t predict your future or promise you luck. Instead, I’ll reveal the present that can change the future. So, let’s make a contract now.

“I thought I had nothing to lose, so I accepted.”

The story was more unbelievable than any novel, but I could tell it was the truth. After doing this job for seven years, I wasn’t easily fooled.

“So? Why did you stop? Keep going.”

Manen looked down and spoke slowly.

“…As midnight approached, the snow stopped, and the moon reappeared.”

Ryeong said we had to wait for the moon to rise higher. Then they wandered around the grave and snapped a branch off a birch tree. At that moment, the moonlight illuminated their face, and I instinctively held my breath. It was like seeing Salome dance before King Herod. In that instant, I knew for sure that this was the real Ryeong.

“I know shamans look strange. Just keep talking. How old is that bastard, anyway?”

“I don’t know. But ten years ago, he couldn’t have been more than in his early teens.”

I stopped mid-step as I crushed my cigarette under my boot. Copperhead was equally stunned, repeating, “Early teens?”

A wave of uncontrollable rage surged through my body. Are you telling me we were all played by a brat that young?

“Keep talking.”

“I asked if he needed any shamanic tools. Ryeong quietly replied that this was all he needed, holding up the Whitebirch branch he had snapped.”

Then Ryeong said,

Ryeong drew a strange, intricate figure on the ground with the Whitebirch branch and placed me inside it. Then, slowly, he began to circle the figure. The sound of the bell softly followed him, like a shadow. The sound was pure and mystical.

Then Ryeong stepped into the figure and stopped in front of me. After gazing at me for a moment, he lightly tapped my shoulder with the Whitebirch branch.

It was an incredibly brief touch that seemed almost unbelievable, yet in that instant, I felt an immense energy surge through my body. I even had the illusion that he and I had become one.

When I shared that feeling, Ryeong laughed.

And with that, Ryeong vanished. He disappeared into the darkness, holding a bell in his right hand and a Whitebirch branch in his left. The sound of the bell trailed off into the darkness like a faint echo.

I couldn’t move from that spot until the sound of the bell completely ceased. When I regained my senses, I found a note with Ryeong’s phone number in my hand. That day was the first and last time I met Ryeong.

The next day, I met Ekdal, shook hands with him, and then called Ryeong. Ryeong read Ekdal’s thoughts for me. It was far more precise than with Marata.

As Ryeong finished the consultation, he said, “Changing the future is about the present.”

“I used Ekdal’s plans to avoid disaster. After that, I attended every party possible, shaking hands and calling Ryeong.”

Silence fell. The managers remained still, not moving at all. I took out a cigarette, lit it, and drew a deep breath.

If that was true, then he was no ordinary dangerous person.

“From some point on, I started to rely on Ryeong. Love… in some sense, that might be true. Ryeong was a bright person. And teaching him brought me joy. He would say, ‘Since you’re engaged in political struggles, I should study accordingly. Please recommend a good book.’ I would suggest various books and share my thoughts. Gradually… I began to ask him for his opinions on everything, and I followed his every word without question.”

Manen burst into tears. Jaguar muttered, “This is ridiculous.” His voice was dazed.

I felt my blood boil. Ryeong was controlling Manen beyond just being an aide. He had already anticipated my desire to manipulate Lord Wolfscott.

I had always evaluated Manen as clever. However, in reality, Manen was nothing but a puppet for Ryeong. I felt like I had been hit—not just once, but ten times over. It was an incredibly impressive and infuriating light cross. My temper flared. Reflexively, I slammed my hand against the table toward Manen.

“Ugh!”

Manen screamed and fell backward.

“Call him right now and summon him. Tell him I haven’t been able to repay him for ten years, so I’ll give him a hefty sum now.”

“Th-that’s impossible…”

“You bastard!”

I shot up and rushed at Manen, stomping on him dozens of times.

“Why? You said you’ve been using him for ten years without giving him a penny? Is it now that you’re feeling affection for him after all this time? Why can’t you call him?”

“Ryeong can read my thoughts as soon as he answers the phone. No matter how much I try to hide it, I can’t. But if I call him…”

“Then just tell me his phone number.”

Manen burst into tears. I stomped on him a few more times. Even with broken ribs, he just kept crying.

“Please, leave him alone. Ryeong has abandoned me. Without me, he can’t use his magic.”

“Hurry up and tell me.”

“Please. Anyway, Ryeong won’t live much longer. He told me that. He said he has only a few months left. He’s not someone who lies.”

“You still haven’t tasted the heat.”

When I came to my senses, the managers were trying desperately to calm me down on either side. By now, Manen was on the brink of death. I loosened my tie and tried to cool my temper.

“Enough with the fiction. Are you saying that without you, Ryeong can’t use his abilities? That he won’t live much longer? Such nonsense will only make me angrier. Speak clearly.”

“Ryeong’s phone is… a private line just for me. In fact, I once tried to trace Ryeong’s identity. I tracked it through his phone number, but it led me to the wrong person. I looked through the call records for that number, and there was no one else he had called other than me.”

Manen was begging, tears streaming down his face.

“After he notified me he was leaving, I tried to trace the number again. Out of guilt for not having done anything for him in ten years… But the results still only pointed to me. Ryeong got angry, so I had to stop. He’s meticulous. If it’s not my number, he probably won’t even pick up. Even if I track his phone’s location, it won’t help.”

I broke his shinbone.

“Say it again.”

“Please. I haven’t been able to repay him for ten years. Just let him have a peaceful death.”

“You bastard.”

The managers clung to my sides, desperately trying to calm me.

“Chief, please calm down. Let’s find out what we can and kill him.”

Even Leopard was trying to soothe me. I took a puff from my cigarette.

He’s truly a cunning one.

“So you’re saying there’s no way to catch that bastard? Speak quickly. Think of something. Speak clearly. If you say it nicely, I won’t take your skin off. But if you drag it out, I will. Count to three and speak. One, two—”

I drew my knife without hesitation.

“I will tell you! I will tell you! Ryeong…!”

Manen rubbed his palms together and begged. I smiled coldly.

“Speak quickly.”

“Ryeong will… appear at the citizen cemetery on 24th Street tomorrow. It’s the anniversary of Marata, Ryeong’s master. I offered roses there every morning. Not long ago, when I spoke with Ryeong, he mentioned it. He said I always surpassed him.”

“He will appear at Marata’s grave and offer roses.”

That was impressive. Tomorrow, huh?

It’s just around the corner.

The goddess of fate was smiling at me.

“Good. If Ryeong doesn’t show up tomorrow, you’ll know hell.”

I ordered Leopard to continue interrogating Manen. He was a treasure trove of information. I revived the theory of high-achievers that Ray mentioned. If I could just squeeze information out of Manen, I could drastically reduce the yearly budget for intelligence gathering. Then I called my direct subordinates. I instructed them to find Marata’s grave at the cemetery and place roses there early in the morning. It would be troublesome if Ryeong suspected anything.

Next, I gathered the idea planning teams again. To catch Ryeong, I had to delay the Manen scandal for a few days. I also called the East Eden newspaper and asked them to postpone the article. Finally, I arranged a team to infiltrate the cemetery with Cooperhead. With this, we were fully prepared to capture Ryeong.

I was lucky. Today was a festival day. Numerous people roamed the streets, dancing and singing. The area near the citizen cemetery was no exception. Thanks to this, I could disguise my team members in masks and cloaks and easily release them. Cooperhead and I also donned cloaks over our uniforms and had been lurking since dawn.

The conditions were good. The cemetery was surrounded by dense coniferous trees and bushes. The only path leading outside was a narrow trail connecting to the cemetery entrance. Marata’s grave was conveniently located for our hiding spot.

The problem lay elsewhere. It was 10:30 PM. No one had approached Marata’s grave by this time. No matter how well the setting was arranged, it was useless if the actor didn’t show up. I grew increasingly anxious. Damn mask made it impossible to smoke. Anyway, according to Cooperhead, Ryeong was either blonde or had a very pale face.

“The moment Manen sees Ryeong’s face, he’ll think of ‘Salome dancing before King Herod.’ It’s a representative work of Gustave Moreau. Based on that painting, I’d guess Ryeong is blonde. Or he has an excessively white face. That artwork is famous for its luminous depictions emanating from the subject.”

“Guess he’s resorted to metaphor since he’s a tattooed nobleman.”

“It’s not that far-fetched, is it?”

“Ridiculous. Who wouldn’t shine in the moonlight?”

“True. Thanks to the moonlight reflecting off your mask, my eyes are quite dazzled right now.”

I checked the time again. It was almost eleven. I had promised to meet Ray at midnight. I felt a surge of impatience.

Fortunately, the meeting place was close by. There hadn’t been a call from Ray yet. If he didn’t show up, I was thinking of going to find him directly. His hospitalization records would be updated in the social safety network the next morning. After wrapping up Ryeong’s capture, I could visit him.

Suddenly, a thick darkness covered the sky. The snowfall intensified. A wind howled through the cemetery like a lament. A chill swept over my neck. I had an ominous feeling and stared across the path.

“…The actor has finally appeared.”

I smiled coldly.

In the distance, a small shadow slowly walked toward me. Dressed in a shabby coat that smelled musty, pretending to be a shaman, it moved slowly. Cooperhead murmured, “Is that Ryeong? This is quite exciting.” I felt the same.

It had been seven years. The appearance of this remarkable bastard, who had been entangled with this side for almost seven years. I decided to take a moment to appreciate who he was.

Ryeong fully revealed himself. He wore his coat hood low so that his face was entirely obscured. His physique was unimpressive. In his right hand, he held a single cigarette, and in his left, a bundle of roses, strolling leisurely. His walking pace felt like that of a snail. Occasionally, he brought the cigarette to his mouth and exhaled smoke.

Ryeong briefly stopped walking and threw the cigarette into a nearby trash can. Every action was incredibly sluggish and slow. Occasionally, he sniffled.

For someone who had played tricks on me, he was disappointingly pathetic. I could understand the sentiment of the French detective who almost burst into laughter the moment he saw a Catholic priest on the train, giving up everything. Manen had surely distorted his memory by worshiping Ryeong. Or perhaps there was a serious issue with his eyesight. Indeed, one cannot know the truth without experiencing it firsthand. Who could guess the sadistic instinct lurking beneath a handsome face or Ryeong’s extraordinary ability hidden beneath that sluggish appearance?

Suddenly, a terrible darkness surrounded me. It was hard to tell what was in front of me. Only after a brief moment did the dark clouds disperse, and the surroundings brightened slightly.

By then, Ryeong had turned the corner and was standing in front of Marata’s grave. He turned his back to us and looked down at Marata’s grave. After placing the roses, he remained silent for a while.

It was certain. That bastard was indeed Ryeong. I used my radio to order, “Surround him,” instructing all the lurking members. Then I stood up abruptly. The bushes trembled, and the leaves rustled.

Yet Ryeong showed no reaction. He merely stared at the grave without moving. He was truly an arrogant bastard.

I shrugged off my cloak. Now it was your turn to meet your end.

Only then did Ryeong flinch at the sound of approaching footsteps. He hurriedly looked around, fidgeting. That sight was quite thrilling. I drew my gun decisively. From the beginning, I had no intention of letting Ryeong live. Manen had stated that Ryeong couldn’t demonstrate his magical abilities without him, but it was highly likely that he was lying. Ryeong was an extremely dangerous bastard. I planned to kill him myself today.

“Chief, why are you so excited?”

Behind me, Cooperhead followed closely, chuckling. He had already sensed my intentions.

Ryeong stiffened, as if realizing something. He must have understood from my and Cooperhead’s attire that we were Guiger’s subordinates. Indeed, you were quite a magnificent opponent. You had diligently made a fool of me. You had thoroughly plagued my mind. Therefore, I would show you the courtesy of a final farewell.

I stood directly in front of Ryeong, wrapped my arms around his waist, and leaned him back, aiming the gun at his left heart. Then I pulled the trigger. A single gunshot shattered the darkness.

Ryeong’s body convulsed violently. White smoke poured out from the hole in his coat. But at that moment, I sensed that something was wrong.

Long strands of hair slipped out from under the hood of Ryeong, who was collapsing against my arm. The hood was flung back. A silvery light poured down onto the graveyard floor like a heavy snowfall. It was just like that moment. It was no different from the first instant in

. The hair fell limply to the ground. Ryeong’s blue eyes froze on me. They were empty. He looked surprised, or maybe confused. Mechanically, he blinked a couple of times before closing his eyes again. Red blood dripped down onto the white snow, drop by drop. It was truly vivid.

I knelt slowly, still embracing Ray. My head felt foggy.

One thing was certain: I had killed Ray with my own hands. I would never see him again. In an instant, Ray was gone, and all that lay ahead of me was a dark void until my death. Therefore, there was no reason to hesitate in my next action. I hugged Ray tightly and brought the gun to my temple. Without hesitation, I pulled the trigger.

꙳•❅*ִ

The door to the underground prison opened slowly. An indescribable chill and the smell of blood seeped out from deep inside. The soldiers clamped shackles around Whitebirch’s wrists. Whitebirch bit her lip. It seemed sincere. The king’s gaze, gestures, and words were so true that they could stop even his blood.

Whitebirch closed her eyes. She couldn’t forget. That night, in the Whitebirch forest, the king had held Whitebirch’s hand and whispered fervently.

“I love you.”

Do you still believe that?

Really.

I clicked my tongue and opened my eyes. It felt strange. The memories of Whitebirch played in chronological order after the contract, far more vivid and detailed than the fragmented glimpses before the contract. It was like the difference between an introductory text and a dissertation. This meant that the torture about to begin would bring an unparalleled level of pain compared to the past.

How could she endure that…?

Whitebirch had not yet been tortured. The torturers were discussing the intensity of the torture. Listening to their conversation, Whitebirch desperately held back her tears.

Oh dear, fool. I couldn’t help but smile bitterly.

The records say that Daytanz comforted the queen mother, but only formally. Anyway, he was a despicable bastard.

At that time, Daytanz had kept the military nobility close due to frequent invasions from neighboring countries. The traditionally powerful civil nobility had strongly opposed the king, so Daytanz needed to give the civil nobility a serious warning. However, trying to purge them during a time of frequent wars could lead to chaos in governance. In the midst of that, the curse incident had erupted, and they must have been celebrating.

Whitebirch’s father had been a leader deeply respected by the civil nobility during his lifetime. By humiliating the queen mother, Daytanz had sent a warning to the civil nobility. No matter how much she was the daughter of a civil nobility leader, she was still the queen and a wife. To leave such a wife to die through two months of torture must have sent chills down the spines of the civil nobility. Furthermore, Whitebirch was a queen unpopular with the public.

By killing just one person, he made the majority of the civil nobility obedient and also gained a pretext to pursue a marriage with the pregnant Levitan, all without losing the people’s favor. In fact, after the Whitebirch incident, Daytanz’s reign went smoothly. According to Ray Arisa, who served as Lord Manen’s proxy, it was a remarkably adept display of political maneuvering.

However, Ray Arisa and Whitebirch were one and the same.

Since childhood, I had watched Whitebirch with curiosity.

Why?

Who made Whitebirch this way?

For what reason did a powerless person fall into such a terrible tragedy?

I sought answers in the books about Whitebirch. The first was political strife. The second was the people of the past themselves.

From Ray Arisa’s perspective, the people of the past had many strange aspects. Most modern people would likely agree. The advantages cited by the people of the past were often seen as cruel and barbaric from a modern viewpoint. The gladiatorial games that excited the Romans are a typical example.

To be coldly honest, it couldn’t be solely blamed on Daytanz. Of course, he was the primary instigator.

The second was the military nobility, who pressured Daytanz for their own protection. The queen mother hailed from a military family and thus acted as a strong supporter of the military nobility.

The third was the civil nobility, who, while ignoring the state of the country, pressured Daytanz and the military nobility.

The fourth was the barbaric people of the past. The citizens enjoyed betting on how long the queen could withstand the torture. In the 16th century, an average of 7,000 women were tortured to death under accusations of witchcraft each year in the kingdom. The sight of prisoners being burned alive was the best entertainment for the people of that time.

Whitebirch often lost herself in fantasies of being born a man and defeating her enemies. As a capable sorcerer, she might have wanted to be like Ray Arisa, walking the path close to the civil nobility leader. Assisting Lord Manen while making the military nobility suffer felt like a long-held grudge finally being resolved. How many military nobles had Lord Manen killed? My hands were by no means innocent.

Through consultations with Lord Manen, I came to clearly understand the ugliness of political strife. While Daytanz had a justification of invasions from neighboring countries, the political strife currently raging in the kingdom was merely a struggle for power among greedy vampires driven mad by their private greed. Yet I had no intention of justifying my actions in the slightest. Even if the blood on my hands was that of a vampire, blood was still blood.

Lord Manen…

My head throbbed. The events of that day finally resurfaced in my mind.

I had completely forgotten about it.

I had been so absorbed in Whitebirch that I had entirely forgotten my promise with Messara and the incident of being shot in the graveyard. A chill seeped through my body.

It was Snake. He walked toward me without hesitation, a whip in his left hand and a gun in his right, embracing me and firing the gun at my heart. A terrifying fear surged through me as I looked into the grim reaper’s mask staring at me. After a brief silence, I lost consciousness.

But where was this?

I barely rolled my eyes to look around. It was a white room illuminated by ashen sunlight. I couldn’t move at all. It belatedly dawned on me that I was wearing an oxygen mask. The wall clock in the distance showed that it was past three in the afternoon.

Was it a hospital?

The hospital room was quiet. There were no signs of movement outside the door. One thing was certain: Lord Manen was in great trouble right now.

How did Snake know my whereabouts? So, was Lord Manen the one protecting me now? Had he rushed to catch up and taken me to the hospital?

A chilling sensation soon engulfed me, as if I had bitten into ice. Only Lord Manen knew that I was seeking Marata’s grave that day. Yet, at that very location, I was shot by Snake. This implied that Lord Manen’s current troubles were beyond imagination.

It was a cycle of eternal return.

I closed my eyes with a bitter smile. I felt sorry for Messara, who had been waiting for me. The guilt tore at my heart. If I had known such a thing would happen, I wouldn’t have uttered those words of love to him.

I had painfully learned from the incident in Whitebirch Forest that I shouldn’t say things I couldn’t take responsibility for…

At that moment, the torturers approached.

“Then we will begin, Your Majesty.”

They turned Whitebirch around. Immediately, the whip dug into her body.

I bit my lip. Whitebirch. Do you still think fondly of the king after all this? Is that really true?

Cold sweat poured from every pore of my body. I knew it. My body wouldn’t be directly harmed. Even so, I shivered at the vividly transmitted sensation through my senses.

Stay calm, Ray Arisa. This is just a hallucination. Just an illusion.

Suddenly, my left chest felt incredibly tight. I could barely breathe. It didn’t seem to be solely because of Whitebirch. I realized in the next moment that I had been shot in the chest. This meant it was a very bad situation for enduring a hallucination.

My body convulsed like a fish speared through the gills. I felt like I was going crazy from the pain. It was a familiar act. Whether it was Whitebirch in the 16th century or Ray Arisa in the 22nd, both of us ended up like this due to abusing magic.

Whitebirch sobbed. My king, were you sincere?

The door to the hospital room burst open. Doctors rushed in through the blood-stained hallucination. As I lost consciousness, I thought one last time.

What do I know?

꙳•❅*ִ

It was eight o’clock at night when I arrived at the hospital. Ray, who had been in a coma for ten days, suddenly went into convulsions. It was four o’clock in the afternoon, yet it was only at seven in the evening that Lizard informed me of the situation.

I knew exactly what the department heads were thinking. They hoped Ray would die.

It was both fortunate and unfortunate that I had Cooperhead with me that day. Cooperhead, who recognized Ray immediately, watched my actions closely and kicked my gun away the moment I pulled the trigger against my temple. Then he instructed his team members to restrain my flailing self, checked Ray’s condition, and reported that he had not died. I barely regained my senses and transferred Ray to a nearby hospital.

The bullet had narrowly missed his heart, causing a penetrating wound. After a major surgery, Ray was moved to the intensive care unit. Meanwhile, I experienced hell.

While I watched over Ray’s surgery, Cooperhead met with the department heads. It was the worst situation. The woodpecker spilled everything to the heads. My suicide attempt shocked them greatly. As soon as Ray was moved to the ICU, Cooperhead and Leopard came to find me. Cooperhead offered me a cigarette.

“I understand your feelings, but you know this isn’t the time for that, right?”

Leopard then spoke.

“I’ve explained everything to the heads. The relationship with Ryeong was coincidental. You and I happened to meet Ryeong at the gay bar, and I was the one who approached first.”

I only gazed at Ray. Only one question echoed in my mind. “Why?”

Why?

I had been certain that I held everything in my grasp. I enjoyed the sweetest moments of my life during that trip. I had confirmed his love and experienced the pinnacle of ecstasy. In that instant, my wings were clipped, and I plummeted into hell. I was thrown away in no time.

Why?

Why.

Why did we end up like this?

“Get a grip, Chief. The heads are in a terrible mood. How does it make sense that you attempted suicide? What will become of us? Huh? Speak up.”

Leopard shook my shoulder. Cooperhead extinguished the cigarette.

“Chief, stay calm. I’ll keep talking, so listen carefully. The reason I brought Ryeong to the hospital wasn’t out of affection or respect. All the heads are in agreement to eliminate Ryeong. He’s the one who manipulated Manen with just a cell phone.”

With a pause, Cooperhead added emphatically.

“However, I opposed killing Ryeong. Want to know why? It’s because of you, Chief. You led us without revealing your future plans, and we trusted you alone and followed quietly. Just you.”

Cooperhead’s tone turned into blatant mockery.

“Right now, Lotus is trapped in the torture chamber, turned into a blood puddle. Lord Wolfscott still knows nothing. You, Chief, know very well that the people involved in this exceed a single division. What are you going to do? What will you do? Is it okay to just kill yourself like this? If you want to commit suicide, at least spill your plans before you go. I won’t stop you.”

Leopard then said.

“Do you even know what you’re doing? You’re renting an entire floor of the hospital at night and having the members guard you. What do you think will happen if the tattooed nobility finds out about this? The heads are furious about that too. Hey, Chief. Are you listening?”

I heard everything clearly. It was half intimidation, half persuasion.

I tried to regain my composure. Ray was not dead yet. He was just in a coma.

“Just let me stay here today.”

“Only until seven in the morning. All the heads have reached a consensus. As for Ryeong, we need to control you. You can’t argue about that. Your suicide attempt shocked us. You can’t guard the ward alone. The heads agreed to have one person follow you in turns. Lizard will take care of the communications from the hospital. Today, it’s Leopard.”

Cooperhead’s words were a unilateral notification. I tried to hold back my anger.

Leopard shook the ashes off his cigarette into the ashtray.

“Chief, you need to create a justification. You need to come up with a reason to protect and save Ryeong to persuade the heads. What will you do?”