His friend suddenly laughed, as if amused by some absurd comment. Then he added: 

[“You’ve gotten older, and now you’re starting to say all sorts of nonsense, aren’t you?”]

“Hmm…… I suppose you can’t say for sure it was the company card. Even if it was used during the weekend while I was out for work.”

[“What an odd thing to say. It’s almost like he’s suggesting that guy bought something for someone else.”]

“Well, I guess that could happen, right?”

[“No, it couldn’t. That guy’s never even bought a single rose for a woman, not once.”]

The voice continued confidently, almost as if boasting: [“The only thing he ever bought to win a woman over was a cocktail spiked with a muscle relaxant.”] Jeong Changin was momentarily at a loss for words. He already knew the guy’s personality and morals were rock bottom, but still……

Jeong Changin clicked his tongue bitterly and muttered,

“Yeah, I must have misheard. I mean, why would that guy buy a suit for my nephew?”

[“……Your nephew? Oh. The second one?”]

“Yeah. Have you met him before?”

[“No, I haven’t. ……Ilay bought a suit for your nephew? Did he actually say that himself?”]

“No, I heard it from my nephew……Though, now that I think about it, I might’ve misheard.”

Not wanting to be labeled a liar by his friend, and since even he found it hard to believe, Jeong Changin decided to doubt his own memory instead.

[“Now that you mention it, I do recall him mentioning in passing that he saw Jeong Jae-i’s younger brother.”]

“It’s not just that he saw him—Rick’s Assistant Instructor is that guy. Didn’t he say anything else?”

[“No, nothing. He’s not the type to go around talking about other people, is he? Why, did something happen?”]

“Of course not. My nephew is remarkably sharp and clever—he knows how to take care of himself.”

Jeong Changin shrugged, even though his friend on the other end of the line couldn’t see him. Truth be told, aside from luck and brains, the younger one was just as outstanding as the eldest. At least, that’s how Jeong Changin saw it. But then again, luck was indeed an incredibly important factor.

It was something that happened not too long ago.

Jeong Changin had met with Riegrow to discuss work-related matters, and at some point during their conversation, the topic of him meeting Taeui in Hong Kong came up. Before Jeong Changin even had the chance to bring up the suit, Riegrow seemed to recall something and spoke first, as if it had just occurred to him.

[“Hey, how on earth did you raise your nephew?”]

Jeong Changin fell silent. First, he had to figure out which nephew was being referred to. Second, it dawned on him that he wasn’t the one who had actually raised his nephews. Third, he needed to guess what exactly was meant by ‘how’. And fourth, he was genuinely surprised that the man in front of him could even laugh like that in the first place.

Suddenly, he gave a small chuckle, as if something amusing had crossed his mind. For a moment, his face looked almost…… normal. It was surprising to see. Jeong Changin thought to himself: ‘Huh, that’s odd’. He had seen this man smile plenty of times before. He’d even heard countless remarks like: ‘That guy’s even more dangerous when he smiles’, and had agreed with more than half of them. This was a man who could calmly commit insane acts while smiling, so letting one’s guard down just because he smiled was out of the question. But over time, after enough encounters, you learned to distinguish between his various smiles. And yet, this particular smile felt unfamiliar.

“Taeui? Why was he?”

Jeong Changin added with a chuckle: “Whatever he did, I’d appreciate it if you could go easy on him. He’s still my beloved nephew, after all.”

He smiled along, thinking that his clever nephew wouldn’t have done anything reckless to jeopardize his own life. Then again, what could have set this madman off this time? 

Looking back, it had already been well over 10 years since he first became acquainted with this man. Though, calling it an ‘acquaintance’ felt somewhat misleading. While it was true that more than a decade had passed since they first met, it hadn’t been that long since they began crossing paths like this through work-related matters.

However, through his interactions with mutual friends, occasional visits to the man’s house, and the rumors that often reached his ears, Jeong Changin had come to understand what kind of person this man truly was. He was a madman teetering dangerously close to the boundary of normalcy. Or, to put it more precisely, he was a lunatic who fell far outside the standards of normalcy but could easily fool a psychological evaluation—smiling his way through it and pretending to be perfectly sane.

His concepts of friends and family were fundamentally different from those of ordinary people. To this man, the distinction between someone he met yesterday and someone he’d known since birth was nonexistent—time spent together held no bearing on how they were treated.

With someone like him, it was best to avoid any interaction unless absolutely necessary. Jeong Changin’s nephew was smart enough to understand that much. Yet, somehow, his luck had failed him, and he’d ended up crossing paths with this man. How unfortunate.

When he first heard that Riegrow had been on the phone with his nephew in his own room, Jeong Changin was surprised. But even then, he couldn’t imagine that a few conversations would be enough to spark Riegrow’s interest in someone. And, truthfully, this situation likely wasn’t just about that. It seemed like bad luck had thrown them together more often than not. What really made Jeong Changin’s stomach drop was when Riegrow, while casually discussing the process of moving to his new position as the incoming Instructor, had offhandedly remarked: “Your nephew would make a fine Assistant Instructor.”

At that moment, Jeong Changin had a serious thought: ‘Taeui, you unlucky child’. While he acknowledged that he bore some responsibility for the situation, he hadn’t expected things to escalate to this extent.

“That guy…… isn’t he a little unhinged?”

When Riegrow was rubbing his chin in thought, saying those words, Jeong Changin tilted his head slightly, inwardly lamenting: ‘My poor nephew—he’s really hit rock bottom, to be talked about like this by a lunatic like him.’

“Why? Did he try to pick a fight with you or something? If that’s the case, then yeah, maybe he has lost his mind.”

“No, it’s not that. How should I put it…… it’s like he doesn’t have a frontal lobe.”

“……You’re saying he doesn’t have a brain?”

Jeong Changin decided to make a mental note to tell Taeui about this later, suppressing a small laugh that was creeping onto his lips. But to his surprise, Riegrow frowned slightly, his expression serious, and waved a hand dismissively.

“No, no. It’s more like…… he doesn’t seem to have a sense of unease. It’s like he doesn’t really think about what’s ahead.”

“He does tend to live in the moment.” – Jeong Changin replied, nodding as if finally understanding. It was true—his nephew did have that particular trait.

What surprised Jeong Changin in this situation; however, was the fact that this man was actually talking about someone else’s personality.

Jeong Changin tilted his head slightly, gazing intently at Riegrow. However, the man didn’t say anything further; he merely chuckled softly, lost in his own thoughts. For some reason, that unfamiliar smile unsettled Jeong Changin more and more.

When he thought about it, his nephew had always had an unlucky streak in this regard. From way back, unsavory types tended to linger around him. In truth, Jeong Changin had spoken more often with the elder nephew than the younger, so he hadn’t heard much directly. But every now and then, the elder would stare blankly at the ceiling and mutter cryptically: “Taeui’s going to be trouble someday……” At the time, Jeong Changin couldn’t understand why he’d worry about someone like Taeui, who seemed capable of surviving even if thrown into the middle of a desert. But lately, he was beginning to see the point. The younger nephew, whether it was due to some innate quality or simply bad luck, had a tendency to cross paths with the wrong kind of people.

“Well, running into Xinlu right on the very day he arrived here…… that’s just typical.” – Jeong Changin muttered with a sigh. Out of nowhere, Riegrow’s gaze flickered toward him. What had seemed like a momentary, wandering thought now settled into a cold, sharp focus.

“Of all people to run into, it had to be someone like that lowlife. Seems like even that guy has terrible luck when it comes to people.”

Riegrow clicked his tongue and muttered sympathetically, as if genuinely feeling sorry. Jeong Changin agreed with the sentiment, but he subtly averted his gaze from the man who said it, choosing to stay silent.

“Well…… at least it seemed like Xinlu took a liking to him, so there’s that……”

“Which makes it even worse.”

“……”

Once again, Jeong Changin said nothing. After all, Riegrow’s words weren’t wrong this time either. Xinlu was smart and, in his own way, had a decent side to him. But every now and then, there was a certain recklessness about him—an air of instability that made one uneasy.

Suddenly, an idea occurred to Jeong Changin—a way that might be best for his nephew while still offering a chance for things to work out.

“That’s right. Come to think of it, wasn’t Xinlu quite your type? He’s got such a delicate, handsome face. Honestly, even Taeui could have fallen for him at first sight.”

“Yeah…… he’s pretty. A beautiful face and a body with just the right allure. ……Now that I think about it, your nephew saw us in the middle of things back then, didn’t he?”

Riegrow nodded slowly, as if reminiscing, and muttered in a languid tone. ‘This quick-handed bastard’ – Jeong Changin thought with a bitter smile, silently mourning his nephew’s misfortune. Still, part of him felt it might not be all bad. If Riegrow got tangled up with Shinru and the two of them ended up sidelined, Taeui might end up benefitting from the situation without lifting a finger.

But then, Riegrow spoke again.

“That said, the way that kid looked at me back then…… I really didn’t like it.”

Riegrow frowned slightly, muttering to himself. Jeong Changin let out a sigh and replied,

“Who would look kindly on a rival when the person they like is tangled up with someone else? Don’t get mad—just laugh it off. That’s normal.”

“It’s not that I was angry…… it just left a bad taste in my mouth. And yet, he still says he likes that little brat……What an idiot.”

Riegrow scoffed lightly. Jeong Changin gazed at him, his expression calm but his thoughts unsettled.

‘This doesn’t feel good…… not at all.’ – Feigning a smile, he tapped his fingers lightly on the desk.

“He’s had a rough time lately, getting knocked around from all sides. So go easy on him, will you? Treat my nephew a little better.”

Jeong Changin thought to himself: ‘It’s like entrusting a fish to a cat’; but still, he decided to stick up for his nephew. He didn’t expect this guy to treat Taeui any better just because of a few words. After all, Riegrow was the kind of person who wouldn’t hesitate to turn on his own family if it suited him. Still, talking didn’t cost a thing, so he gave it a try. Riegrow raised an eyebrow, as if considering something for a moment, then let out a small chuckle again.

“I haven’t really been hard on him. Sometimes he gets a bit defiant, but when I see that laid-back, clueless expression of his, I just lose all motivation.” 

“……Looks like you’ve mellowed out with age.” – Jeong Changin replied with a hint of irony.

Riegrow burst into laughter, seemingly taking Jeong Changin’s muttered remark as a joke. The sound of such carefree, cheerful laughter was so unfamiliar that Jeong Changin found himself staring at Riegrow with a curious expression.

As he listened to his friend’s voice over the phone, Jeong Changin wondered if this friend had ever seen such a side of his younger brother. Despite constantly lamenting: “That guy is a lost cause”, this friend had likely witnessed some semblance of Riegrow’s humanity at some point—after all, they were family. It was something Jeong Changin himself couldn’t even begin to imagine.

Jeong Changin sighed and shrugged his shoulders. He found himself feeling a twinge of regret. I shouldn’t have brought Taeui here, he thought, a sentiment that crossed his mind from time to time. It wasn’t because of anything unexpected. He had anticipated that Taeui might end up sulking from being overworked due to branch matters, or that there could be conflicts with colleagues, or even that he might get hurt and face hardships. He had considered all of that when deciding to bring him here.

……But he hadn’t expected him to end up tangled with someone as rotten as that.

[“I guessed. While Ilay was out of commission, your nephew must be having an easier time now.”] – His friend remarked over the phone.

Jeong Changin shook his head internally but replied: “Well, not really.” With that, he tucked away his wandering thoughts.

‘He’s my beloved nephew. Of course, how could I not love those kids?’

Jeong Changin smiled faintly. But even so, he had other matters to attend to.

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

The room was dark. As the door opened, the light from the hallway spilled in, forming a square patch that illuminated the interior.

Apart from the long strip of light stretching in from the doorway, the rest of the room was swallowed in deep darkness, and within that darkness, silence lingered heavily. When he stopped moving, a faint sound of breathing quietly reached his ears.

“Still alive, I see.” – Taeui muttered abruptly as he stepped inside.

When he closed the door behind him, the impenetrable darkness returned, swallowing the room. He reached for the small yellow lamp near the door, its faint glow illuminating just enough to scan the room without difficulty.

On the bed, Ilay lay as still as if he were dead. It was almost eerie to see a man so sharp that he could sense movement from a hundred li away remain completely motionless even as someone entered the room. What made it stranger was that he looked exactly the same as when Taeui had checked on him earlier—not a single wrinkle in the blanket covering him had shifted.

“……Could he actually be dead?”

Taeui muttered seriously to himself as he took a step closer to the bed. Setting the bowl of porridge he was holding onto the bedside table, he leaned down, bringing his ear close to Ilay’s face. As expected, he could hear faint but steady breathing.

After a moment’s hesitation, Taeui reached out and gently placed his hand on Ilay’s forehead. It was hot—so hot that he wondered if it might be better to check with a thermometer. Yet, despite the fever, Ilay lay there quietly, peacefully, his eyes closed. He had always been startlingly pale, but now he looked almost ghostly. Still, aside from his pallor, he could have easily been mistaken for someone simply lost in sleep.

“A guy with a weaker constitution might not survive something like this—it’s a poison that could make worrying about their life reasonable. ……Well, someone like that monster probably won’t die, but still, check in on him occasionally. If he suddenly ends up cold and lifeless, make sure to call the body disposal unit and let them know.”

The image of the medical unit Kyoho casually muttering with a grimace crossed Taeui’s mind. Even for a monster like him, it’s no surprise he’d end up like this……Taeui thought. After all, as much as Ilay might seem beyond human, he was still, at his core, just a man. A fever this high, leaving him bedridden and motionless, was to be expected. Perhaps Taeui should even feel a sense of amazement at the fact that Ilay was exhibiting such a human response at all—’So, he really is human after all’. Come to think of it, would there ever again be a day in his life when he’d see Ilay lying like this, feverish and seemingly at death’s door? It might just be a once-in-a-lifetime sight.

“That’s why people should stop making enemies left and right. I knew something like this would happen someday.” – Taeui muttered. He considered whether another dose of fever medicine might be necessary, but Ilay had already been given some earlier in the afternoon when he was in a similar state. Giving more than the prescribed amount didn’t seem like a good idea either. Perhaps if Ilay could get up and move around a little, his body might start to regain some balance on its own. But looking at him now, lying there with his eyes closed as if dead, it was hard to imagine him summoning the strength to even stir.

“Hey…… how about waking up and taking a few sips of porridge……?”

Taeui spoke softly, just in case, but as expected, there was no response. It was as if Ilay’s consciousness had completely vanished. ‘If some scoundrel were to sneak in and take a swing with a knife right now, he’d be done for’ – Taeui thought. And yet, leaving the door unlocked and wide open—well, that was just so Ilay. On the other hand, it was almost pitiful for the countless would-be assailants downstairs, missing out on such a perfect opportunity. Not that Taeui had any intention of stepping up to play the villain himself. Muttering: “Guess he’ll just have to get through this on his own”, he grumbled while filling a plastic bag with ice, wrapping it in a thin towel, and gently placing it on Ilay’s forehead. Had one of his colleagues been around to witness this, they might have suggested he go the extra mile—drench the towel and cover Ilay’s entire face with it. That way, Taeui could have been hailed as a hero by them all, basking in cheers instead of grumbles.

But lately, even those damned colleagues were nothing but a nuisance. Taeui shrugged off his shirt, tossing it carelessly aside, and headed into the bathroom. At least the Instructor’s quarters had an attached bathroom—that was one small mercy. As he was unbuttoning his pants, his eyes caught his reflection in the full-length mirror fixed to the shower booth. His face…… it was becoming more colorful by the day. The bruises, blooming in vivid hues, made his face look like a canvas. Every time one bruise started to fade, he’d get hit again. Every time a wound began to heal, it would split open anew. There wasn’t a single day his face looked clean and unmarked. It had been going on for so long now that he was starting to forget what his own face used to look like.

Standing under the stream of hot water cascading over his head, Taeui let out a long sigh. At least the day’s work was done. Another day completed, another mark to cross off the calendar when he returned to his room. Still, the thought crossed his mind: ‘Surely, when I check in tomorrow morning after a night’s sleep, that man won’t still be lying there, except this time as a cold corpse, will he?’

It wouldn’t be surprising, really. Even when he was sick, Ilay made it almost impossible to tell. If he were to die just as quietly, without any warning, it would feel oddly fitting.

Ilay Riegrow’s death.

Taeui quietly mouthed those words, letting them linger in his mind. He couldn’t think of a more mismatched combination of words. Could someone like that monster of a man even die? Especially a death brought about by something as anticlimactic as poison from a wild beast—so unremarkable that it was surprising in its sheer lack of surprise.

‘Surely he won’t die just like that’ – Taeui thought, but he couldn’t help wondering when Ilay would finally get up. As much as the man was a living threat to others when he was on his feet, having him bedridden like this brought its own share of inconveniences. Even putting aside his role as an Instructor, there seemed to be plenty of issues piling up when it came to him helping with the family business.

Taeui knew that if this man were to die, things would certainly become simpler in some ways. But if he lived, there would still be a certain peace of mind in knowing he had survived.

“At the very least…… I’m not hoping for his death.” – Taeui muttered to himself.

After rinsing off the soap suds, Taeui shivered as the moisture on his skin began to evaporate, leaving a cool sensation. He wrapped a bath towel over his head and stepped out of the bathroom. The room, warmed by the heater, felt noticeably cozier than the bathroom. Drying himself off first, he rubbed the towel over his hair as he walked back toward the bed. The bowl of porridge on the bedside table remained untouched, and Ilay’s position on the bed was just as unchanged.

“Hey. When do you plan on getting up? ……You look so close to death, it’s unsettling.”

Taeui muttered to himself, draping the towel he had been using to dry his hair around his neck. If everything had its natural place or state, then this man lying in bed like this felt fundamentally wrong. He was far more suited to twisting someone’s neck than to this. Whether that aligned with societal notions of right or wrong was beside the point.

“If we’re talking about strange things, the fact that you wander into my room so carelessly isn’t exactly ordinary either.”

A low and languid voice drifted out. Startled, Taeui instinctively tightened his grip on the towel. He looked down at Ilay, who still lay motionless with his eyes closed, as if he hadn’t spoken a word. His body remained as still and unyielding as a piece of wood, completely unchanged.

It had been three days.

The voice, though hoarse and far weaker than Taeui remembered, was unmistakably Ilay’s.

“What the—when did you wake up?”

“……”

“If you’re awake, at least try to get some porridge down. I made it thin, so you can just drink it without much effort.”

But there was no reply. Ilay remained lying there, pale and still with his eyes closed, looking exactly as he had before. For a moment, Taeui wondered if he had simply imagined hearing the voice.

“Hey…… Ilay.”

Taeui quietly called his name, leaning over Ilay’s head to peer down at him from just a few hand spans away. His face, even paler than usual, offered no response except for the faint sound of his steady breathing.

“And you’re in no position to talk about people carelessly wandering into someone else’s room when you’re the one lying here helpless like this.”

“What happened to that guy?”

It seemed he hadn’t misheard after all. Ilay still didn’t move a muscle or open his eyes, but his lips shifted briefly, and a voice emerged. Though languid and weary, it was clearer and more distinct than Taeui had expected.

Taeui hesitated for a moment but quickly realized what Ilay was asking. The first thing he wanted to know upon waking – before even checking on his own condition – was news about the person who stabbed him. It was so typical of Ilay that Taeui couldn’t help but sigh.

“His eye was damaged, so he was sent to Hong Kong. They say he likely won’t go completely blind, but it’s still serious. I haven’t checked for updates since, but…… he probably won’t be able to come back.”

“Really? Then I guess I’ll have to look him up later.”

“……And what exactly are you planning to do when you find him?”

“Stick a knife in his side too, of course. The one I soaked in toxin, just like he did to me.”

With a voice as languid as if still drunk on sleep, Ilay muttered his words as if recounting a dream. Hearing him, Taeui couldn’t help but feel exasperated. Taeui thought: ‘Even if he’s weak right now, he’s still the same damn person!’

“If that’s what you want to do, why don’t you focus on regaining your strength first? You’ve been surviving on IV drips for three days, so you probably don’t have a shred of energy left. How about starting with a few sips of porridge to wet your lips?”

Still, hearing the man who had been teetering on the brink of life and death speak brought a measure of relief. ‘Maybe, deep down, I really did want him to survive’ – Taeui thought as he sat on the edge of the bed. His gaze drifted and landed on Ilay’s hand. In the dim light, the hand appeared so pale it almost seemed bluish, resting palm down on the blanket. The fingers at the very tips moved slightly, sporadically. With no other part of him stirring, the irregular twitching of just his fingertips gave off an oddly unsettling feeling, as if only the fingers were alive and moving on their own.

‘A ha’ – Taeui thought, nodding as understanding dawned. He had a pretty good idea of what Ilay was doing—testing himself.

“You’ve been lying in bed without moving for days. Can you even move properly now? Your muscles might’ve stiffened up.”

Taeui flicked Ilay’s twitching fingertips lightly as he spoke. *Pisik* Ilay let out a faint, wheezing chuckle, a ghost of a smile appearing at the corners of his lips before quickly fading. 

“Well…… I suppose I’m weaker than usual. Even holding a spoon might be too much right now. Since you’ve already gone to the trouble of bringing the porridge, why don’t you feed me yourself?”

It seemed his consciousness had fully returned, as he spoke quite clearly now, though his voice lacked its usual strength. While it didn’t sound like it would give out at any moment, it was tired and cracked, betraying his exhaustion.

Taeui frowned slightly, clearly reluctant, and paused to think for a moment. But as he glanced down at Ilay’s pale face, eyes still closed, he let out a resigned sigh. Hmph. Picking up the bowl of porridge, he prepared himself for the task.

“Yes, yes. When the Instructor speaks, a powerless Assistant must obediently comply.” – Taeui muttered sarcastically.

The saying Maurer had once mentioned – something about sticking your head into a tiger’s mouth – flashed briefly through his mind. Still, seeing Ilay in such a weakened state, he let his guard down a little. He hadn’t forgotten that a tiger remains a tiger, even when it’s dying, but if push came to shove, he figured he could summon every ounce of strength he had to shove that pale face straight into the bowl of porridge and make a run for it. Of course, that would probably mean fleeing not just the room but the entire island, disappearing into some remote corner of the wilderness.

Thinking along those lines, Taeui sighed again. It wasn’t a joke. If he hadn’t already known that Ilay’s complexion was naturally this pale, he might have genuinely mistaken him for a corpse lying there. Only someone like Ilay would downplay his condition with a casual: ‘I’m a little weaker than usual.’ If it were Taeui himself, lying there after days of barely eating and battling a raging fever – still burning even now – he would undoubtedly have said: ‘It wouldn’t be surprising if I dropped dead this very moment.’

When Taeui picked up the bowl of porridge and turned back, Ilay opened his eyes at that very moment, as if perfectly timing his action. His deep dark pupils, like a void with no end, stared at the ceiling for a while before shifting slightly downward to look at Taeui. The way only his eyes moved, like a wax figure coming to life, sent a shiver down his spine.

“……Your face is so pale. Honestly, if someone called you Dracula, I’d believe it.”

Taeui spoke curtly, and Ilay chuckled, this time for slightly longer than before.

“Ah, so you’re being so cautious because you’re afraid I might sink my teeth into your neck, like a proper Dracula?”

“Me?”

“Isn’t that it?”

“……If you were me, what would you do?”

For a moment, Taeui considered bluffing and denying it, but he quickly dismissed the idea. After all, a tiger is still a tiger, even when it’s on the verge of death. Acting cocky now would only come back to haunt him once this monster was fully recovered. Best to watch his mouth and play it safe.

Ilay chuckled again.

“Sometimes, you handle things far more wisely than I do. Like right now.”

‘So, this must mean I’m good at knowing when not to act out’ – Taeui thought wryly.

Even though it sounded like a compliment, it didn’t feel like one, and he swirled the porridge around with the spoon in mild irritation. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Ilay’s hand again. The fingers, which had been twitching earlier, were now slowly clenching into a fist and relaxing. Though the movements still seemed weak and unsteady, Taeui clicked his tongue in mild frustration and scooped up a spoonful of porridge. It was lukewarm, with faint steam rising from it. After tasting it lightly, he decided it was warm enough.

“Perfect. Here, take this.” – Taeui said as he brought a spoonful of clear porridge toward Ilay.

Ilay, who had been keeping his gaze fixed on Taeui ever since opening his eyes, let his eyes curve faintly with amusement.

“Even with food from the same bowl, I know 7 ways to poison just 1 person.”

At Ilay’s slow, murmured words, Taeui froze. He’s unusually talkative for Ilay…… must really be sick, Taeui thought for a brief moment. But before that thought could settle, a wave of irritation surged through him.

‘This bastard…… did he really just say that……?’

Taeui shot Ilay a glare, his displeasure plainly written across his face. He pulled the spoon back, no longer offering it to him, and his voice turned cold and firm.

“If I wanted to kill you, in this situation, I wouldn’t bother dirtying my own hands—I’d have had someone else do it and you’d already be dead three days ago. Or, if I didn’t care whether you lived or died, I wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of making this porridge myself. I’d have just asked anyone to make it for me.”

“……Ah, so what you’re saying is, you actually want me to live……?”

“Until 30 seconds ago, yes. I did. I’ve always kind of liked you, despite everything.”

Taeui clicked his tongue, the word ‘ingratitude’ flashing briefly in his mind. He had just heard one of the most unpleasant types of remarks, the kind that made you feel disgusted when you heard it from others. Who would ever feel good about hearing their kindness tossed aside like that, thrown into the mud?

Thinking about it, Ilay was the kind of person who, not just other people’s kindness, but even affection, could casually throw away like dirty water without a second thought. Yet, with his usual sharp wit, he never openly expressed such things. It was clear, though, that the fever had him slightly delirious.

Taeui muttered: “Once you’re feeling better, you can either eat it or throw it away yourself”, and set the bowl of porridge down before getting up from the bed. But just then, a hand reached out and gripped his wrist. The same hand that had been weakly clenching and unclenching into a fist moments before now held onto his wrist with surprising strength. Taken aback, Taeui flinched. When he turned his head, he found Ilay’s dark eyes staring at him silently. There was something unreadable in his gaze, perhaps a mix of hesitation or the hint of a mistake, as if unsure of what to do next.

“……”

Ilay’s lips parted slightly, as if he was about to say something, but he paused, seemingly unable to find the right words. After a brief moment, his lips closed again. For a fleeting second, Taeui forgot his irritation entirely, taken aback by this rare, unexpected sight. Could it be that this man, who had always been so far from human, was actually having something resembling human thoughts?

Taeui lowered his gaze, focusing on the large hand gripping his wrist. It looked weak, but surprisingly, it was a hand that was difficult to shake off. After staring at the hand for a moment, Taeui shifted his gaze to Ilay. Ilay, still wearing an expression that suggested discomfort, sighed quietly and let go of his wrist.

“I misspoke. I made a mistake…… Please don’t go. If I don’t eat this porridge right now, I feel like I’m going to die.”

“……So?”

“……I’m sorry, Taei.”

It was clear now that the fever had completely clouded Ilay’s mind. His voice was still somewhat languid, but it remained relatively clear, so Taeui had thought he was back to his senses. But that wasn’t the case. Ilay’s rationality was still lost somewhere beyond the chaos of his consciousness.

Taeui made a conscious effort to keep his expression neutral as he silently picked up the bowl of porridge. For a moment, he even wondered if the fever had somehow affected his hearing. He gently brought the spoon filled with porridge to Ilay’s lips. Without hesitation, Ilay opened his mouth and drank it down. This obedient behavior from him was so unexpected that it made Taeui feel uneasy, almost like something bad was about to happen. But, at the same time, it wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

“It’s bland.” – Ilay muttered after a slow swallow, letting the taste settle for a moment.

“If you were to eat something salty in that condition and end up with dehydration on top of it, even you would really die.”

“Aha, even I would, huh?”

Ilay gave a subtle smile. Taeui felt a flicker of regret but kept it to himself, quickly scooping up more porridge and forcefully spooning it into Ilay’s mouth, trying to shut him up. Despite his efforts, Ilay drank the second spoonful without a word and then, without missing a beat, continued.

“Do you think I won’t die?”

“Well…… if you’re able to talk this clearly despite the fever, it seems like you won’t be slipping into a feverish delirium anytime soon.”

Taeui, still holding the empty spoon, gently placed the back of his hand on Ilay’s forehead and quickly pulled it away. The heat he felt was still far beyond normal. With this kind of fever, most people would be in a semi-comatose state, unable to think straight and babbling nonsense. But once again, Ilay proved to be no ordinary man. Truly, an extraordinary one.