When Christoph reached the roof of the main building, the helicopter was just about to take off. It had likely just received the order over the radio, as the helicopter, which was trembling on the ground, began to slowly lift off.

Christoph was drenched in sweat. The bloodstains scattered on his body mixed with the sweat, making it seem as if blood was seeping out instead of sweat.

The limp body he carried over his shoulder like a sack kept slipping down. Christoph gently hoisted the body up again and pushed it back onto his shoulder. He clicked his tongue when he saw the helicopter pilot’s eyes on him.

There were hardly any guards on the roof. Only a few people were there, and they looked at Christoph with confusion, seemingly unable to comprehend what was happening. It wasn’t until the shout: “DON’T LET HIM ESCAPE!” echoed from the door Christoph had just burst through that their expressions changed, and they fumbled at their waists to draw their guns.

Christoph glanced at a foreigner who was clearly part of Al Faisal’s group and fired without hesitation. The bullets hit the chest and stomach, even though there was no need to aim precisely.

Christoph began running toward the helicopter, his body stained with sweat and blood. The pilot saw him, and in fear quickly pulled the lever.

The helicopter began to lift off the ground.

At that moment, Christoph fired at the cockpit, more precisely at the co-pilot’s seat. Unfortunately, the man who was trying to draw his gun in the co-pilot’s seat hadn’t closed the door in time and was shot right between the eyes.

Blood splattered around the co-pilot’s seat.

The helicopter, along with the pale pilot whose eyes were wide with fear, wobbled slightly before completely leaving the ground.

In the meantime, Christoph reached the helicopter and threw Jeong Taeui, whom he was carrying, into the cabin through the open door. Jeong Taeui, still unconscious, hit the seats and the cabin wall but didn’t wake up. Christoph grabbed the safety bar and climbed into the cabin, even though the helicopter was now hovering at head height.

The pilot panicked when he saw Christoph enter and tried to pull the control lever. His trembling hands fumbled with the control panels while his eyes darted nervously at Christoph.

The helicopter descended back to the ground. Powerful gusts from the helicopter blades blew around like a storm.

“TAKE OFF! FLY UP NOW!” – Christoph shouted, pointing his gun toward the sky. But the pilot, in a panic, just shook his head and refused to move, likely hoping that the group rushing toward the helicopter would pull Christoph out in time.

Christoph clicked his tongue.

He grabbed the corpse of the man he had just shot and propped it up next to the pilot. The pilot gasped when he saw the dead body, and Christoph fired another shot into the dead man’s head. Blood splattered onto the pilot’s face.

Christoph tossed the corpse onto the floor and this time pressed the barrel of the gun to the back of the pilot’s head.

“Now it’s your turn. If you want to live, fly up.”

Christoph’s deep voice mingled with the loud noise of the helicopter. However, the pilot understood the message from the warm corpse at his feet and the gun barrel against his neck.

Christoph roughly shoved the gun into the pilot’s neck, his face a mix of blood and cold sweat. Finally, the pilot’s trembling hands began to move.

The sound of the helicopter blades became more deafening than ever. The helicopter started to rise shakily.

Outside, people were shouting and scrambling, trying to grab hold of the helicopter. One person even managed to grip the skid, but Christoph kicked his hand hard with his boot, forcing him to let go. The light sensation of crushing a hand flashed through him. The screams were drowned out by the helicopter’s noise.

At that moment, the metal door was forcefully pushed open. Someone rushed out.

It was Richard.

He didn’t turn back, even forgetting to gasp for breath, and just ran toward the helicopter, which had just left the ground. Something heavy fell on his expression. He knew he couldn’t reach the helicopter, which had already risen out of reach. Christoph caught Richard’s gaze, and he understood that too.

“CHRISTOPH!!” – Richard shouted. Although the deafening noise of the helicopter blades drowned out everything, Richard’s shout still rang clear in Christoph’s ears.

Christoph looked down at him, his face somewhat pale, knowing that he could no longer be reached, standing beneath the helicopter as it took off, looking up at him.

It was a face he had never seen before.

He had never seen Richard’s face so clearly displaying worry – someone who was always calm and never showed emotion in any situation. A face full of urgency, lacking the usual composure.

He had arrived too late. The man who had rushed with all his haste to reclaim Taeui from Christoph’s hands had arrived one step too late.

Yet Richard only stared at Christoph, not even glancing at Jeong Taeui, and suddenly shouted.

“DON’T GO!…… CHRISTOPH, COME BACK!! RETURN RIGHT NOW!!”

But all he could do was shout, unable to do anything else. Richard remained on the ground, while Christoph was now up in the air, truly beyond his reach.

Christoph looked down at him quietly. He looked at Richard, who was glaring up at him, unable to do anything, and it made him want to laugh. He tried to smile, but despite his efforts for a long while, the smile never materialized.

“…Congratulations, Richard Tarten.”

The words slipped from Christoph’s lips, spoken softly. Even though the sound was drowned out by the helicopter’s noise and even Christoph himself couldn’t hear it, he was certain that the man below understood. And just as he expected, as soon as Christoph finished speaking, Richard’s eyes widened slightly. His tightly pressed lips trembled.

“So, the promise between us is now fulfilled.”

Richard had inherited Tarten. And now, Christoph would leave Tarten. That had been the original promise.

Having said that, Christoph closed the helicopter door. He gently shook the gun next to the pilot, and the helicopter began to ascend, moving away from the estate.

Without looking back and without glancing down, Christoph kept his gaze fixed straight ahead. As if from the start, he had never known that a pair of fiery eyes were relentlessly watching from below.

“Where to…”

The pilot asked hesitantly. In the helicopter, which was flying aimlessly over the skies of Dresden, Christoph looked down at Jeong Taeui. The unconscious young man leaned back in the seat, looking as though he were peacefully asleep. Below, there were frenzied screams, while up here, the helicopter blades spun as if trying to tear through the eardrums, but he remained serene.

It was as if that place belonged to another world.

From the beginning, he had never really belonged to their world.

“…Berlin. Head to Berlin.”

Finally, Christoph spoke quietly. His voice was so soft that the pilot had to ask again to confirm the destination.

The helicopter made a wide turn toward the north of Dresden.

An external communication signal began to flash red in the upper left corner of the control panel. The pilot deliberately ignored it and used his elbow to cover the signal.

Christoph glanced briefly at the signal, then sat down in a seat. His limbs hung limply, like a puppet with its strings cut.

He looked to the side once more. Silently, he watched Jeong Taeui, who had his eyes closed and was breathing evenly as if dreaming a peaceful dream. Christoph leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.

“It’s cold…”

The sigh that escaped his lips was like a faint moan, quickly dissipating into the noisy space.

**************

It didn’t take long for the news about Christoph kidnapping Jeong Taeui and hijacking the helicopter of a distinguished guest from the Middle East to spread through Tarten.

The notion that – “Christoph Tarten kidnapped Jeong Taeui” – left those remaining at Tarten in doubt, but the trivial accuracy of that detail was irrelevant. What mattered was that, from Tarten’s perspective, Christoph had kidnapped an important person and disappeared.

“That lunatic.”

Benson spoke bluntly. In front of him, Jansen—the one who delivered the news—shrugged and silently agreed.

Benson didn’t particularly like Christoph, but he didn’t hate him either. As for the brutal acts Christoph had committed so far, Benson sometimes thought they were understandable if one considered the circumstances.

But this time, Benson sided with Tarten. No, even if that weren’t the case, Christoph’s actions were entirely unreasonable in his mind.

“Of all the days, why did he choose today to do this? This isn’t just an insult to Richard; it’s an insult to all of Tarten. Truly a madman.”

Benson muttered, curling his lip. Jansen, who had always disliked Christoph, frowned even deeper.

“I’ve been uneasy ever since he stepped up to protect that Asian guy. In the end, he really caused trouble. Damn it, this could’ve ended smoothly just by handing the Asian guy over to Saudi Arabia. Now, that lunatic has ruined everything!”

“They seemed close, but he chose the worst possible way. I can’t entirely blame him, but his method was unacceptable.”

“It’s not that hard to understand, though; the other side wasn’t making unreasonable demands. Look, I’ve heard that Asian guy was involved in that terrorist incident with the lunatic. How bad must it have been for them to overlook the lunatic and demand the Asian guy instead?!”

“Is there anyone worse than that lunatic?” – Benson muttered skeptically, then glanced at the so-called ‘lunatic’ lying unconscious on the temporary bed with a metal cuff on his wrist.

A man more commonly known by the nickname ‘Crazy Rick’ than by his real name. In fact, he was a monster, one whose real name no one dared to utter, lying there with his eyes tightly shut.

While everyone else was outside, busy dealing with this unprecedented chaos, the room was left with only Benson, Jansen, and three younger men. The three were discussing various things about Christoph and Taeui, speculating on what might happen next.

These men grumbled that there was no need to keep five valuable personnel just to guard someone who had been overdosed with propofol and was unconscious. Yet Richard had shaken his head and insisted, even as he hurried off. They had to administer the drug at regular intervals.

“…Should we give him another dose?”

Benson muttered as he lightly tapped the metal box on the table. Inside were a few more vials of sedatives along with some syringes.

Jansen hesitated, looking back and forth between the box and Rick, then shrugged.

“No matter how much of a monster he is, if we give him another dose now, he could really die for good. Even if he’s crazy, he’s still a member of the Riegrow family. If anything happens to him, we’re in trouble.”

“But Richard…”

“Listen, we’ve already given him 800mg of propofol. 800mg! Even if he wakes up tonight, he’ll be crawling on the floor. If we’re unlucky, his brain might get damaged too.”

“Well,” Benson thought, nodding slightly while still looking at Rick with some unease.

Even while unconscious with his eyes closed, this man was still intimidating. If he weren’t in this condition, Benson would never want to be anywhere near him.

“Ah, damn it, just sitting around here waiting is boring as hell. What the hell are we doing, guarding someone who can’t move for a long time?”

One of the young men walked over, clicking his tongue. He muttered harsh curses and sat on the back of the sofa where Jansen was seated.

“I wonder what sky those two are flying under right now. Christoph, that crazy bastard. What the hell was he thinking?”

“Who knows? Maybe they’re sightseeing over the skies of Hong Kong by now.”

Another young man sitting not far away grinned and said mockingly. That made Jansen burst into laughter.

“Yeah, right. If they weren’t special, they wouldn’t go this far, no matter how close they were. So, is this the infamous love-fueled escape?”

While the others laughed and made nonsensical comments, Benson only shook his head with a bitter smile.

Though he didn’t believe their jokes, he still knew this escape wouldn’t last long. No, they would surely be caught the moment they stepped off the helicopter. The place they intended to go had probably been informed, and people were likely already in position.

That meant this was just a struggle that would last an hour, or at most, a few hours.

“No matter how much you think about it, this was a stupid move.”

As Benson muttered with a dissatisfied sigh, something unimaginable, something that couldn’t be thought of or envisioned, happened.

It was like a nightmare.

As if in response to Benson’s muttering, a strange voice – one Benson wished was unfamiliar – spoke up: “Is that so… Christoph took Taei?”

A voice full of weariness.

A voice that sounded tired, as if in a daze, almost like sleep-talking. Benson didn’t immediately recognize whose voice it was.

In truth, it was a very familiar voice. But that voice shouldn’t, and couldn’t, be heard at this moment.

“Rie—.”

However, when Benson turned around reflexively, he couldn’t utter another word.

Riegrow was sitting up in bed as if he had just taken a short nap. He sat up on the bed and slowly shook his head a few times, as if his head were still heavy. He frowned slightly, and his long, pale fingers gently pressed against his temple. It seemed like he had a headache.

No… it wasn’t just a headache… No, it couldn’t just be a headache; he couldn’t possibly be awake this soon. He couldn’t possibly be sitting up on his own…

Benson stood there, dumbfounded, staring at him, and Jansen was equally wide-eyed as he gaped at Riegrow. The three young men also fell silent.

In that eerie silence, Riegrow noticed the cuff on his wrist as he tried to get out of bed. He looked down at the cuff on his wrist as if it were something he had never seen before and then smiled faintly.

“It seems Richard has lost his mind. What a pointless waste.”

As soon as he finished speaking, there was a small but distinct sound. In the next moment, the cuff, no longer attached to anything, fell off and hit the wall.

Riegrow didn’t blink as he adjusted his thumb back into place and flexed his hand a few times – an act that showed he had never truly been restrained.

“Ri ……. Rick…”

Jansen mumbled with a pale face, but Riegrow didn’t pay him any attention. He glanced around the room and stopped at the table where the three young men were sitting.

“Ah. There they are. Hand me my gloves.”

With a tone slightly slower than usual, Riegrow pointed to the navy blue gloves on the table and snapped his fingers at one of the young men. Reflexively without realizing it, the young man picked up the gloves and took a step toward Riegrow but stopped short when Benson screamed in shock.

“DON’T GIVE THEM TO HIM!”

The air became thick with tension.

Riegrow, who had raised his hand, slowly turned to look at Benson. Benson’s eyes were wide as he stared at Riegrow.

It couldn’t be. This was impossible. There was no way he could wake up and stand so quickly. No, even if he woke up, he shouldn’t be able to move so easily. He should only be able to sit there……

At that moment, Jansen seemed to realize what Benson was thinking.

“It’s just a bluff… just a bluff…. There’s no way he could move. Just sitting up is too much already. Besides, look, he doesn’t have a weapon. He’s unarmed. And we have weapons. And there are five of us.”

Jansen’s voice was soft, but his eyes never left Riegrow.

Those pitch-black eyes, hiding whatever thoughts, were observing them. Not long after, those black eyes narrowed slightly. He smiled.

“Hurry up and give me the gloves.”

“NO, YOU CAN’T GIVE THEM TO HIM!”

Jansen responded before Riegrow could finish speaking. Then he reached for his waist, drew his gun, and pointed it at Riegrow. Just as Benson clicked his tongue and muttered something in displeasure at this rash reaction, Riegrow burst out laughing. It was a light laugh, but it lingered, filled with satisfaction. Faced with such a seemingly carefree laugh, Benson grew increasingly uneasy. Though the situation gave them no reason to be, an unsettling anxiety gnawed at him, rising from deep within.

The laughter seemed to fade gradually. Riegrow continued to stare at them, his eyes still carrying a hint of a smile. One by one. One by one. Very slowly, as if seeing through them. And after he had looked at them all, a smile reappeared on his lips. That smile sealed Benson’s real fear.

“Jansen, I think you’ve misunderstood. The gloves are just a symbol of mine. They’re not weapons. But… fine. One won’t be enough anyway, so I’ll wash my hands later.”

As soon as he finished saying that in a calm tone.

The hand that had been gently pressing against his temple as if he had a headache now rested on the mattress. And in the next moment, Riegrow leaped off the bed and lunged at Jansen.

Before Jansen could react, Riegrow’s hand swiftly grabbed Jansen’s wrist, the one gripping the gun, and twisted it. At the same time, he aimed precisely at the neck of the young man who had just drawn his gun.

In that instant, the young man was shot through the neck and collapsed without even a scream. Riegrow continued to twist Jansen’s wrist in a full circle, snatching the gun away, then looked down at Jansen – whose eyes were wide with terror. Rick smiled faintly.

“What a pity, Jansen. As you said, it seems my mind is broken. Right now, I feel incredibly uncomfortable and can’t control myself. I don’t even want to control it anymore.”

“Goodbye.” – He said briefly, pressing the gun to Jansen’s forehead and pulling the trigger without hesitation.

*Bang* – Black-red blood splattered across Riegrow’s pale face.

But it wasn’t over.

Riegrow turned the gun and shot the remaining two young men, who were frantically firing at him. Then he calmly pushed the heavy sofa that had been riddled with bullets and stood up.

The room, which had been as noisy as a stirred-up beehive, suddenly fell silent as quickly as it had erupted.

In the middle of the room now filled with corpses, Riegrow frowned, clicked his tongue, and pressed his hand against his forehead. He shook his head a few times as if he had a headache. His recent actions showed no sign of someone suffering from a headache.

Benson stood frozen, staring blankly at Riegrow with lifeless eyes. He didn’t even have the presence of mind to think that this was impossible.

Riegrow turned to look at Benson one last time. Benson swallowed, his throat dry.

“If possible, I’d still like to maintain a good relationship until I leave Tarten, Benson.”

“…”

“I’ve never had luck doing things that don’t suit my nature. See, it’s the same this time.”

“Ri ….. Riegrow…”

Riegrow suddenly frowned. He tapped his head lightly and muttered a curse.

“Damn it, still dizzy… Hey, Benson. How long have I been asleep?”

Benson looked at Riegrow with empty eyes, his lips barely moving. His mind was almost blank, unable to utter a word. At the very least… Clearly, enough time had passed that a normal person would never wake up again.

Riegrow looked at Benson, who couldn’t respond properly. He began clicking his tongue and asked again.

“Hey. Tell me what I missed while I was out. What’s the situation now? Huh?”

“…I…I…don’t…”

Benson’s stiff tongue could only utter a few short words. He had been in this room the entire time, so he didn’t know what was happening outside. Even if he did know, he wasn’t coherent enough to explain it.

“Hmph.” – Riegrow massaged his neck and shook his head slightly. He twirled the gun around.

“All right then, you’re useless too.”

Those were the last words Benson heard.