NT - EPILOGUE 1

Tring… Tring…

The dial tone rang on endlessly, to the point of irritation. Lee Ho-beom clicked his tongue in silence and hung up. Without missing a beat, he redialed and pressed the phone back to his ear, all while gazing out the car window.

The world outside was engulfed in darkness—quiet and still. At some point, the night had reached its deepest hour.

Is she already asleep?

It was quite late, after all. He glanced at the screen after yet another unanswered call.

[Did you eat?]

The brief message he had sent earlier had yet to receive a reply. That wasn’t particularly unusual. She had always been on the thin side, but after enduring so many hardships, she had grown even more frail. Making sure that girl ate properly had become his responsibility. And really, he had long since stopped expecting sweet, eager replies.

But she usually picked up his calls.

Ho-beom tapped the corner of his phone against his chin in thought. By then, the sedan he was in had sliced through the night and arrived at the underground parking lot.

“Please head inside, boss.”

Leaving behind Chul-woo, who always carried himself with rigid formality, Ho-beom stepped into the elevator leading up to his home. He watched the numbers change on the display, waiting, as an unplaceable sensation spread through his hands and feet like a dull tremor.

Has it been four months now? Since we started living together?

Even so, the fact that she was waiting at the end of this hallway still didn’t feel real. The surrealness of it gnawed at him, squeezing and releasing his heart in an unsettling rhythm, as if he were about to face something truly shocking. The feeling was both uncomfortable and strangely difficult to let go of, leaving him with the nagging sense that he was making a fool of himself.

A faint heat flickered within his dark, indifferent gaze.

Ding.

His steps crossed the threshold without hesitation.

As soon as he stepped inside, a lingering warmth met his face—a clear sign that someone had been there. In the days he had lived alone, this space had been filled with nothing but cold air.

Ho-beom made his way straight to the bathroom first. His line of work required him to wade through bloody crime scenes, so washing up had become a top priority the moment he stepped inside his home. Usually, he would take a shower, but tonight, he simply washed his hands, adjusted his appearance, and headed directly to the bedroom.

“……”

But contrary to his expectations, the bed was empty.

He had assumed she would be there, curled up under the covers, her back turned to him.

The unease he had been forcibly suppressing since the parking lot began gnawing at his nerves, rising in jagged waves. His pace quickened, his heavy footsteps losing their earlier leisure. He threw open every closed door—his study, the spare room—before slamming them shut again. Creak. Bang. Creak. Thud. His frantic search yielded nothing. Not a single trace of her.

A hollow grinding sound echoed inside his skull. His teeth clenched.

He pulled out his phone as he rushed toward the front door.

— “Yes, boss?”

“Who was on duty today?”

— “Huh?”

The sharp, rapid-fire question caught Chul-woo off guard. Ho-beom shoved his feet back into his polished black dress shoes, his gaze flickering up to the small security camera mounted above the entrance.

“Hurry up and check the front door footage.”

— “Wait, boss… you’re not home?”

“If she was here, do you think I’d be calling you like this, huh?”

The line immediately erupted into a flurry of activity.

Even after moving into this house, Hae-soo had remained as elusive as sand. If he held her tightly in both hands, he could just barely maintain her shape, but the moment he loosened his grip even slightly, she felt as though she would slip right through his fingers.

That was why his men took turns keeping watch.

This call wasn’t just about checking security footage—it was about tracking down whichever idiot had failed their job tonight.

A moment later, Chul-woo reported back.

— “Dugil and Hyun-oh were on duty today. But… boss, are you sure? They’re saying she hasn’t left the house at all.”

Just as those words passed through his ears, Ho-beom suddenly felt something catch his gaze.

His body turned instinctively.

Across from the master bedroom—the room he had just ransacked in his search—stood a small door, cracked open ever so slightly.

The moment he spotted it, he abruptly ended the call and strode over.

The gap was so narrow that barely a sliver of light could slip through. He stared at it for a second before pressing his palm against the door and pushing it open.

Creeeak.

A faint noise, barely there, accompanied the slow spread of the hallway’s glow into the darkened space.

And there, at last, he found her.

A tiny, cramped room, reminiscent of a single-room apartment.

In the corner, a small figure sat curled up, her head buried between her knees.

Ho-beom let out a quiet breath of relief.

The coil of tension that had been suffocating him like tightly wound rubber bands finally loosened—just a little.

“An Hae-soo.”

He called her name in a low, flat tone, devoid of emotion.

No response.

Ho-beom stood at the threshold for a moment before stepping inside. He perched himself on the unused mattress and reached into his pocket, pulling out a cigarette.

Even as he did, his gaze never left her.

She was like this sometimes.

Most of the time, she functioned well enough. But then, every so often, there would be moments like this—moments where she was swallowed whole by an endless wave of sorrow.

It seemed to happen frequently, though Ho-beom had only personally witnessed it three times.

The first time, she had ended up in front of the elevator.

The second, by the front door.

But despite those changes in location, one thing had remained the same—this time, she hadn’t left.

This time, she had stayed.

Since the first time this situation had occurred, Lee Ho-beom’s subordinates, who were tasked with keeping an eye on Hae-soo, had extended their surveillance from the external hallway to inside the residence. The small camera installed above the front door was also a measure taken after that incident—an unmistakable manifestation of anxiety.

And then, the second time.

When she had been consumed by relentless melancholy and reached the front door, she simply stood there, gripping the doorknob for a long time. Lee Ho-beom had confirmed this scene through the recorded footage from the camera. He had fixated on the unclear screen, obsessively pondering and pondering again—what exactly was Hae-soo thinking at that moment?

He had a rough idea.

Hae-soo hadn’t chosen him simply because she wanted to.

This love was nothing more than the consequence of her reluctantly grasping the thread he had forcibly placed before her. To Hae-soo, Lee Ho-beom was not the best choice, merely the lesser evil. That was why, from time to time, she couldn’t suppress the urge to run away. The chaotic and turbulent mess they had been through wasn’t something of the distant past.

Yet, despite that, Hae-soo had never truly acted on that urge.

She was, undoubtedly, held back by the reality she was entangled in.

Not only was Lee Ho-beom the least terrible option for her, but now, even her father’s fate was bound to him. That was why using her father as his final bargaining chip had been an exceptional choice. He hadn’t intended it as a threat, but whether he meant to or not, it had become an unshakable weight pressing upon her subconscious.

And that was fine.

He didn’t care if people condemned him as despicable. As long as it stopped Hae-soo from thinking about leaving him—no matter the method.

Hae-soo’s melancholy faded with time.

Emotions were, in essence, like impulses. No matter how much she might have despised him in certain moments, the more she dwelled on her invisible shackles, the calmer she inevitably became.

Lee Ho-beom was willing to wait for that.

As long as she remained within his reach, rather than in the grasp of some other bastard, he could endure it—even if it took an excruciatingly slow pace.

He had no intention of offering her comfort. Hae-soo would likely see it as nothing more than hypocrisy.

Under the pretense of love, he had done more than his fair share of cruel things. He, too, was one of the people who had left wounds on her that could never be erased.

Rolling the unlit cigarette between his lips, he sank into deep thought alongside her.

As his mind delved into the past, hazy memories rose like smoke in place of the unlit cigarette.

Lee Ho-beom had kept a grim expression the entire time he was inside the room, as if something was bothering him.

In truth, he wasn’t in a good mood. To be precise, he was irritated.

And facing him was a man with a smug, insufferably polished expression. The way he sipped from the small glass of sorghum liquor, unaffected by Lee Ho-beom’s mood, only made things worse.

Lee Ho-beom, exuding frustration, occasionally fiddled with the open collar of his shirt. Despite their blatantly antagonistic positions, he still couldn’t figure out why he had been summoned here.

“What do you want?”

“Want a drink?”

Kang Muk-hyeon, sitting across from him, easily brushed aside the sharp edge in Lee Ho-beom’s tone and offered casually.

Lee Ho-beom had held his patience for quite a while now. He waved a hand dismissively over the lavishly set table.

“Just get to the point.”

Whatever it was, as soon as they got through the main topic, this meeting would be over.

His attitude was as sharp as a knife, making it clear he had no intention of indulging in small talk. Yet, Kang Muk-hyeon simply took another sip from his glass, completely unfazed.

“This doesn’t taste as good as I expected,” he muttered, as if the only thing on his mind was the quality of the liquor.

“What do you want?”

Lee Ho-beom’s patience had already reached its limit. It was infuriating to sit across from a man like this, making him feel as though he had already done something wrong before anything had even happened.

Kang Muk-hyeon finally set his glass down and looked at him properly for the first time since their meeting began.

“What do you think?”

“You think I have time to play word games with you?”

“If we’re going to play at all, I’d rather play with a woman than with words.”

Even as he spat out his nonsense, Kang Muk-hyeon’s attitude remained lighthearted.

Lee Ho-beom ground his teeth in frustration.

Kang Muk-hyeon.

The man who had suddenly requested this meeting was none other than the half-brother of Kang San-jo, the man Lee Ho-beom called “hyungnim.”

Within their organization, the power struggle between these two brothers was cutthroat.

After all, this was a battle for dominance within the organization, much like the succession wars in major corporations. The winner would secure a position among the top executives of Daeyoung Holdings—a title that would solidify their rule.

This wasn’t just any ordinary business feud.

In this world, where knives and guns were common tools of negotiation, losing an arm today and a leg tomorrow wasn’t out of the ordinary. This was the brutal law of the jungle.

Naturally, the hostility between the two factions was bound to be severe.

“This is why I find ex-boxers to be such a pain,” Kang Muk-hyeon mused, his voice laced with amusement.

Lee Ho-beom remained silent, but his eyes sharpened.

“They only know how to take a beating, and none of them have an ounce of manners.”

Kang Muk-hyeon smirked as he poured more sorghum liquor into Lee Ho-beom’s untouched glass. The liquid filled to the very brim, nearly spilling over.

And just as it threatened to overflow, he dropped his real purpose into the conversation like a stone into water.

“Why don’t you come work for me?”

The moment those words hit his ears and settled into his mind, Lee Ho-beom’s lips twisted into a smirk.

“Listening to you spout nonsense, you must be drunk off a single drink.”

“So you’re just going to keep holding onto that rotten rope?”

At those words, Lee Ho-beom’s eyes twitched slightly. Kang Muk-hyeon took another sip of the gaoliang liquor without any unnecessary movements. Apparently, it suited his taste more than expected, as he emptied the glass without leaving a drop this time.

“You’re the sharpest one among the guys under Hyungnim, aren’t you?”

Kang Muk-hyeon tapped his own temple as he said “this.”

“That means you must understand the current situation better than anyone.”

Ho-beom, who had been confronting him without any hesitation, now bit his tongue, as if mocking his own previous self. Seeing this, a deeper smirk formed on Kang Muk-hyeon’s lips.

“Hyungnim is on the verge of completely falling out of the chairman’s favor. I thought he was handling things well, but who would’ve guessed he’d screw up such an important business venture so pathetically? Well, I don’t need to explain it to you. You know better than anyone.”

“…….”

“Lee Ho-beom, you’ve been in this world long enough. Doesn’t it piss you off to be stuck as nothing more than a debt collector?”

Unfortunately, there was nothing false in Kang Muk-hyeon’s words.

Kang San-jo was already a sinking ship. His younger half-brother’s words only reaffirmed what Ho-beom already knew—his own current position was proof of that. The fact that Ho-beom, who once had a role in overseeing business deals assigned by Chairman Kang, had been demoted to a mere collections officer was no different from being cast aside. In a typical company, it would be the equivalent of a forced transfer to some backwater department.

In this world, your line was everything. It was all about whose shadow you stood behind. Depending on who you followed, your fate could skyrocket or plummet to the ground. If Ho-beom was falling, it meant Kang San-jo’s standing was also declining. In other words, even if Ho-beom hadn’t done anything wrong, he was still being punished for Kang San-jo’s failures.

That was why he had spent more and more days feeling uneasy lately. The ground he stood on was cracking little by little, signaling an imminent downfall. Yet, the man he served, Kang San-jo, was oblivious to the danger. He continued to waste his days drinking, fooling around with women, and acting as if nothing was wrong. If he truly wanted his father’s recognition, he should’ve been putting in blood, sweat, and tears. But all he had was a useless ego and empty words.

Ho-beom had once considered Kang San-jo family, having been pulled into this world by him after ending his impoverished boxing career. Yet, seeing how he was acting these days, it was impossible not to sigh.

San-jo was convinced that his bloodline alone would secure his future. Since he was the chairman’s legitimate firstborn son, while Kang Muk-hyeon was the child of a mistress, he believed that no matter what foolish things he did, their father would still choose him as his successor. It was a delusion—one so foolish that it was almost laughable.

Of course, Chairman Kang had likely prioritized San-jo at first, since he was the legitimate heir. However, how could he entrust the future to a man who kept digging himself deeper into the mud with every mistake? From what Ho-beom had gathered, the chairman’s favor had already shifted significantly toward Kang Muk-hyeon. That was what made this situation so frustrating. And that was why he couldn’t just dismiss Kang Muk-hyeon’s words as a dog barking at the wind.

“Honestly, I’m surprised Hyungnim even managed to take that business deal as far as he did. Everyone knows he has no head for business. The only thing he’s good at is wasting time with women.”

Kang Muk-hyeon casually insulted Ho-beom’s boss—his so-called family—right to his face.

“But that deal? I hear it only got that far because of you.”

He placed his now-empty glass down with a soft clink and met Ho-beom’s eyes properly for the first time since they sat down. Gone was the playful expression from before—his gaze now carried a sharp, calculating intensity.

“And not just that deal. From what I hear, every successful venture Hyungnim has had so far was all thanks to your ideas.”

That was an undeniable truth.

Any business Kang San-jo had succeeded in was largely due to Ho-beom’s influence. Without making it obvious, Ho-beom had subtly guided him in more profitable directions, presenting suggestions that led to beneficial decisions. He had always wanted Kang San-jo to gain a stronger foothold in the organization.

“You have a mind for business.”

Ho-beom found himself wavering between two conflicting thoughts—Why am I even sitting here listening to this crap? and Why does this sound more and more tempting?

“I just don’t understand why someone as smart as you is wasting your talent under that idiot.”

Kang Muk-hyeon likely understood why, though. That was just the nature of this world. Once you swore loyalty to a line, you followed it to the grave. Especially in Ho-beom’s case—since Kang San-jo had been the one to bring him into this underworld, betraying him was something he had never even considered.

“So, come to me instead.”

“…….”

“Unlike him, I’ll pay you what you’re worth.”

Kang Muk-hyeon leaned back slightly, arms crossed, letting the silence stretch between them. The weight of unspoken tension pressed down on Ho-beom’s skin.

“I’ve already prepared a position for you.”

“Ha.”

Ho-beom scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. He hadn’t even considered this, yet here was Kang Muk-hyeon, already making plans as if it were a done deal.

And yet, the truly maddening part?

A part of him was tempted.

Because he knew—better than anyone—that the future alongside Kang San-jo was bleak.

Kang Muk-hyeon’s confidence wasn’t without reason.

As San-jo’s influence waned, someone else was bound to rise in his place. Unlike his foolish brother, Muk-hyeon wasn’t the type to just settle for scraps. With his sharp mind and calculating nature, he had already begun securing his position. And when it came to their father’s favor and the internal power rankings, there was no question who had the upper hand.

“You want something from me.”

“Of course. That’s what makes this fun.”

Muk-hyeon’s smirk widened as he leaned forward slightly.

“It’s only a matter of time before Hyungnim completely crumbles.”

“…….”

“But knowing him, he won’t go down quietly. He’s the type to struggle till the bitter end, dragging down everyone around him in the process.”

He knew his older half-brother well.

“So, I need you to help speed things up.”

Even Ho-beom Lee, who had never missed a subtle signal before, couldn’t catch this one immediately. It was only after a brief moment that he grasped the true meaning behind it. His face gradually stiffened. Kang Mook-hyun drove the final nail in with a voice as casual as if he were merely suggesting they grab a meal.

“Kill Hyung-nim for me.”

The direct order slithered toward Ho-beom like a viper. If he let his guard down for even a moment, it would sink its fangs into his neck and drag him straight to death. That was how dangerous and reckless the proposal was.

“Don’t make that face. It’s a beneficial deal for both of us.”

“You’re insane.”

“At least I’m saner than Kang San-jo.”

Even as Ho-beom stiffly spat out his criticism, Kang Mook-hyun remained composed.

“You’re his right-hand man, aren’t you? That means you’d know best when he lets his guard down. Sure, we could just send our own guys to handle it, but I don’t want to waste resources on something so trivial.”

His attitude—treating a man he had fought alongside for years as nothing more than a disposable piece—was either rooted in absolute confidence or sheer arrogance. Ho-beom wasn’t sure which. More than that, he was growing frustrated by the fact that he had wasted this much time listening to someone who clearly saw him as nothing more than a pawn. He had given too much attention to the barking of a dog.

“Let’s just pretend this meeting never happened.”

Without hesitation, Ho-beom pushed his chair back and stood up. Just as he was about to open the door, Kang Mook-hyun suddenly threw out a name.

“Ahn Hae-soo.”

The name that had been controlling him lately.

The hand gripping the door handle tensed for a fraction of a second. In the next instant—faster than the blink of an eye—Ho-beom lunged at Kang Mook-hyun.

Crash!

The neatly arranged table overturned in a mess. Ho-beom didn’t care that food was staining his clothes. He grabbed Kang Mook-hyun by the collar.

“You son of a bitch… Did you investigate me?”

“You like that little girl that much? I hear you’ve been going crazy over her lately. Visiting her every single night.”

Kang Mook-hyun grinned wickedly.

With his free hands, he made an obscene gesture, mimicking the motions of sex with his fingers. His intentions were crystal clear—mocking what Ho-beom did with Hae-soo every night.

“You even transferred all the debt into her name… Never took you for a romantic.”

The grip on Kang Mook-hyun’s collar tightened. It was a silent demand for answers. Thick veins bulged along the back of Ho-beom’s hand. Kang Mook-hyun lightly patted the hand strangling his collar, as if to calm him down. Then, he uttered words that left Ho-beom utterly baffled.

“But do you really think it was my side that started digging into her first?”

Another cryptic remark.

Ho-beom almost wished he were too stupid to understand what it meant. But unfortunately, he did. Kang Mook-hyun had said it knowing full well Ho-beom would grasp its implications.

The trembling strength in his hands loosened.

“…Hyung-nim?”

Kang Mook-hyun’s smiling face filled his dilated pupils. The way his lips curled higher was practically a confirmation. Ho-beom unconsciously let go of his collar. His mind was reeling.

“This time, you were the fool. How many years have you spent under Kang San-jo? And you still don’t know what kind of bastard he is?”

“…”

“Of course he was feeling paranoid. What if his subordinates betrayed him? What if one of them suddenly decided to side with me and kill him off? He needed leverage. Who should he start with? His most loyal follower, Lee Ho-beom. He needed a way to hold you by the throat. So he dug into your life, searching for something. And lo and behold, he found that girl.”

Kang Mook-hyun didn’t even bother straightening his disheveled shirt and tie. Instead, he pulled out a cigarette. The metallic clink of a Zippo lighter sounded, followed by the flicker of a flame. He took a drag and exhaled a slow stream of smoke near Ho-beom, who was lost in thought.

“If you don’t believe me, go check for yourself.”

Kang Mook-hyun remained unshaken, exuding confidence as he stood up.

“This info? I got it from one of your own men.”

The bastard was clever, no doubt about that. Even in this mess, he subtly planted the idea that there were others ready to betray Kang San-jo and align with him.

With a smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth, Kang Mook-hyun walked out of the room.

Left alone, Ho-beom barely had time to collect himself before he was in his car, heading straight to Kang San-jo’s house.

He had already confirmed over the phone that Kang San-jo was out. As his right-hand man, it wasn’t unusual for him to drop by unannounced, so the guards didn’t stop him.

Kang San-jo was fundamentally an idiot.

If he considered someone “his person,” he saw no need for caution. That was why Ho-beom, who had been by his side the longest, even knew the passcodes to his bank accounts. Rummaging through his office was child’s play.

Finally, in the third safe hidden behind the bookshelf, Ho-beom found what he had been dreading but secretly hoped wouldn’t exist.

A photo of Hae-soo in her school uniform. Documents detailing her personal information. Surveillance pictures of him entering and leaving her tiny, rundown apartment.

Hae-soo had debt tied to this organization, but strictly speaking, she was not the debtor—her father was. Even the fraudulent contract forcing the debt onto her didn’t contain much of her personal information. Just her name, at most.

More importantly, details about a debtor were typically handled at Ho-beom’s level. There was no reason for their leader, Kang San-jo, to personally have this information in his private office.

In short, Kang San-jo had looked into her himself.

Kang Mook-hyun had been telling the truth.

Kang San-jo had been watching him, paranoid that he might betray him at any moment.

If it had been anyone else involved, Ho-beom wouldn’t have felt this rattled. But it was Ahn Hae-soo. That was the problem.

The fact that she had caught Kang San-jo’s attention ignited a storm of emotions inside him.

If he even so much as considered working with Kang Mook-hyun… and Kang San-jo found out—

“Fuck!”

The photo crumpled carelessly in his grip.

The first person to be in danger would be Hae-soo. Just because he liked her and expressed it, she had become a target for threats. In other words, she had become Lee Ho-beom’s weakness. The betrayal of Kang San-jo, whom he had trusted and followed all his life, the suspicious approach of Kang Mook-hyun, and Hae-soo’s safety—all these things had tangled together into a chaotic mess.

“What happens if I die?”

Lee Ho-beom flinched.

It was the memory of Hae-soo asking that question, her face and tone utterly devoid of any will to live, that suddenly came to mind.

If she fell under Kang San-jo’s control, she would likely end up in an even worse state than she was before. Having spent so much time by his side, Lee Ho-beom had witnessed countless women destroyed beyond repair under Kang San-jo’s rule—women so broken that even someone as hardened as him couldn’t help but grimace at the sight. Those horrific memories became the most undeniable threat of all.

Lee Ho-beom clenched the photo in his hand and turned away. It only took an instant for his mind to be made up. All the turmoil that had been festering inside him had finally reached its peak. It was time to let go of the rotten rope he had been holding on to all this time.

Aligning with Kang Mook-hyun happened more rapidly yet methodically than expected. The most effective way to scatter a group was to remove its leader.

“This is too easy. It’s actually disappointing.”

Lee Ho-beom eliminated Kang San-jo more easily than anyone could have imagined. Since the man’s greatest indulgences were alcohol and women, all it took was sending in a barmaid and slipping him a stimulant that induced cardiac arrest. It was a simple matter, and because Lee Ho-beom’s betrayal had yet to be exposed, he was still able to approach without suspicion. Kang Mook-hyun was genuinely impressed by how effortlessly he had sent his longtime superior to the grave in a single night.

Afterward, Lee Ho-beom led Kang Mook-hyun’s men, using the information he had gathered to launch an attack on Kang San-jo’s base. He himself remained in hiding, focusing on extracting as much information as possible before dismantling everything Kang San-jo had built.

“I’ll be laying low for a while.”

That was why he had told Hae-soo those words. He had barely had time to sleep, let alone anything else. But the busier he became, the clearer the future seemed. And in that future, Hae-soo was naturally present. In fact, everything he was doing stemmed from her—the rest was just details.

Yes, he had perfectly become Kang Mook-hyun’s man.

After securing an even firmer position than before, he returned—only to find that Hae-soo was gone.

Kang Mook-hyun had kept his promise. He handed over the construction company CEO position as agreed and even threw in a riverside home just for him. Lee Ho-beom couldn’t care less about a house—he could live anywhere, as long as Hae-soo was there. The riverside location was chosen purely because she liked it.

“Live with me.”

He knew the timing of his words had been terrible.

Seeing Hae-soo so heartbroken over the fact that someone had caught them in bed had sent him into a fit of frustration. Especially since every exhausting thing he had been doing lately was all because of her.

What the hell am I even going through all this for?

What do you think I risked everything for?

The dim, ownerless one-room apartment.

A glowing ember flickered in the dark. The cigarette in his fingers had burned down to a stub, barely long enough to hold. With a rough flick, he tossed it into the ashtray. The tray, used exclusively by him, was already overflowing with discarded cigarette butts. Black ash was scattered all around.

As he rose to his feet, his broad chest expanded, pulling the open buttons of his shirt taut. Running an irritated hand through his hair, he unraveled the effort he had put into tidying it. His sharp, rugged features emerged from beneath his tousled bangs, exuding a wild intensity.

Lee Ho-beom ducked his head slightly as he stepped through the rusted gate. His patience had only lasted a few steps. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes. A sure sign that he had reached his limit. As he approached a sleek black sedan, he flicked a cigarette free and placed it between his lips. The man waiting by the car moved without hesitation, producing a lighter with a precise motion.

As the wheel turned, the flame ignited, casting a reddish glow over Lee Ho-beom’s pitch-dark irises, making them flicker like embers.

“Cheolwoo.”

“Yes.”

“Did she run?”

Before inhaling to light his cigarette, Lee Ho-beom muttered under his breath.

“Do you think she ran?”

“…”

“Why do you think she ran?”

The flickering flame crackled as it caught on the tip of the cigarette. He slowly exhaled, releasing a stream of smoke into the air. Watching the drifting tendrils of smoke, his thoughts wavered.

At this point, did it even matter?

“Finding her is what matters.”

“…”

“Look for her.”

A week. That was the time he had given himself—the time he was willing to wait.

At first, he had clung to a sliver of hope. The fact that everything in the room remained untouched made him believe she hadn’t truly left for good. But time had shattered that illusion. The growing number of days without her presence was proof enough. And in the corner of the room, tossed aside like an afterthought, was his card—a silent testament to the truth.

Another thick plume of smoke drifted upward.

Even the acrid taste in his mouth was no longer welcome.

Lee Ho-beom dropped the barely smoked cigarette to the ground.

“Who the fuck do you think I’ve been running around like a damn idiot for…?”

A grim tone settled heavily, as if it could tear through the acrid smoke. Lee Ho-beom’s shoe ruthlessly crushed the faintly glowing cigarette.

“If she ran, we have to catch her.”

Shin Chul-woo nodded and opened the backseat door, signaling him to get in. Lee Ho-beom was about to step inside but suddenly paused.

“Come to think of it.”

“Yes.”

“Ahn Sungwon. Ahn Hae-soo’s father.”

Shin Chul-woo, who had been bowing respectfully, lifted his face. In the darkness, Lee Ho-beom’s sharp gaze glimmered, reminiscent of a prowling leopard.

“He wasn’t declared dead—just missing, right?”

“That’s correct.”

“…Look into that as well.”

Once was enough for losing someone like this.

If he managed to get her back, he would make sure she never left his side again. His eyes, now stripped of their purpose at the moment of fulfilling his long-sought goal, flickered with a determination filled with a sorrowful glint.

Thud.

Hae-soo’s head tilted to the side.

It was around that moment that Lee Ho-beom snapped out of his thoughts. He took the cigarette he had been holding the whole time and stepped toward the corner. The small body, which had been curled up in a state of tense gloom, now seemed to have loosened slightly.

He cautiously reached out and brushed her hair aside. Finally, she was showing him the face he had longed to see. Though, rather than her willingly revealing it, it was he who had lifted the veil.

Lee Ho-beom gently scooped her up into his arms. Her head lightly tapped against his shoulder and chest, making him wonder endlessly about how she had spent her entire day. Hae-soo was the one leaning into him, but it was he who felt the deepest sense of peace settle inside.

Nothing had changed, yet everything had.

First, it was the elevator in the hallway. Then, in front of the front door. And today, a small corner inside the house. Faced with overwhelming gloom that relentlessly crushed every nerve, tormented by an uncontrollable tide of trauma, the space where she chose to retreat was shrinking bit by bit. The change was clear, and that alone was enough to bring Lee Ho-beom immense joy and comfort.

But even so, it didn’t necessarily mean she would ever come to consider this place a home. Perhaps his love would forever be his penance—soothing Hae-soo’s shadow, bearing the weight of her rage and sorrow, and atoning for his sins.

And yet, he welcomed it.

Whatever it was, having anything of hers within his reach was enough.

Returning to the bedroom, he pulled back the blanket and laid her down on the bed. After brushing away her disheveled hair, he leaned in close to her face. Her deep, steady breaths reached him. Slowly, he pressed down on her chin, parting her lips as he slipped his tongue inside. The soft, languid sensation of her mouth sent shivers of pleasure down his spine.

The broad body leaning toward the bed straightened after a moment.

Shadows flickered across the hazy window.

No longer did his eyes hold any trace of sorrow from reminiscing about the past.