Taeui himself was well aware, but of course, Ilay Riegrow wasn’t someone to worry about, even if he disappeared into the forest in the middle of the night.

The next morning, Ilay returned to the camp with a calm demeanor. However, to say he was ‘calm’ might not be entirely accurate, because when he came back, fresh blood was still dripping from his body onto the ground, making it clear he had done something somewhere.

The first to find him were Instructor Jeong Changin and his instructor assistant as they were inspecting the camp at dawn. Someone mentioned that the instructor assistant had grimaced when he saw Ilay, as if he had just emerged from a pool of blood. Jeong Changin had intended to speak, but Ilay, with a weary expression, spoke first: “It’s not human blood”. Hearing this response, the story spread everywhere within half a day.

And Jeong Taeui.

As expected, he could clearly feel the sharper gazes sweeping over him.

Of course. It had been like this before. Memories of the cold stares he had received ever since he became Ilay’s instructor assistant flooded back into his mind.

But at the very least, there were a few members with whom Taeui had a relatively good relationship, who expressed their exasperation loudly: “That lunatic’s gone crazy again?” Then, they turned to shout at Taeui: “Why do you keep sticking around that maniac? Are you insane too?” Still, their attitudes didn’t shift too drastically, and that was the only small comfort he could cling to.

But what he couldn’t find comfort in was:

“In this situation, isn’t the one suffering the most damage me?”

Just after returning from the march, without even a moment to rest, he was summoned straight to the instructor’s office, where six instructors surrounded him as if they were interrogating him.

This was something he was all too familiar with. Back when he was Ilay’s instructor assistant, every time something happened – even when he was present at the scene of Ilay’s killings – they would call him in to question him about the situation. (It wasn’t just him; most of those present at the scene were called in like that as well.) They would ask a series of questions, their length depending on the severity of the situation.

And this time, he felt the interrogation dragging on longer than usual. Perhaps it was because the clock was behind him, so he couldn’t see it, but by his estimation, this session felt three to four times longer than usual.

Well, that made sense, considering the severity of the incident. Two people had been turned into corpses – or nearly so, just short of being put in coffins. When he thought about it, Ilay should have been locked up for a few days, but his work was deemed important, and after all, the situation was being regarded as legitimate self-defense.

…But why were they keeping him for questioning?

“I heard you live with Riegrow. Do incidents like this happen often?”

This question had actually been asked at the very beginning.

Taeui pressed his lips together bitterly, his expression stiff as he looked at Instructor Talban, who was wearing a stern look.

“I don’t know. If you’re referring to the time since I’ve lived in Berlin, I can’t recall many instances where I witnessed someone die right before my eyes. But according to the records, you probably already know that, aside from the times I had to travel for family matters in Dresden and the suppression of the rebel forces in Frankfurt… But these repeated questions—have you ever considered that I might be suffering from mental shock and physical distress myself?”

“Why would someone like you be living with a guy like that?”

McKin muttered from the side, almost as if talking to himself. After all, none of the instructors here showed the slightest hint of kindness.

“――Alright, that’ll do. It seems I’ve heard enough of what I need, and I still have to speak with others, so we’ll conclude instructor assistant Jeong Taeui’s questioning here for now.”

The one who spoke, tapping the end of his pen against the paper, was the uncle who had been silent all this time. No, now he should be called Instructor Jeong Changin.

“Anyway, the conclusion is just self-defense, so why bother others like this…”

“What did you just say, Taeui?”

“Nothing, I didn’t say anything.”

Taeui swallowed the words he had muttered, quickly raised his hand in a military salute, and turned to leave. He caught glimpses of the other instructors’ displeased expressions but decided to ignore them. As he walked toward the door, he glanced at the wall clock and realized that not as much time had passed as he had thought. This interrogation had lasted just as long as usual, but it felt as though it had stretched for a million years.

He shut the door behind him with a slight force, a small act of venting his frustration, then let out a long sigh.

When he returned to the branch, it was still earlier than usual. Normally, after returning from a march, he would get back a little past noon, but this time, he had been held in that room for about half an hour, and it was still before noon when he returned. Well, given that two people had to be taken away, it wasn’t surprising that he got back early.

“Good grief, what is this mess? I didn’t even get enough sleep.”

The sharp knife-like stares aimed his way had made it impossible for him to rest peacefully. Rubbing his heavy eyes, Taeui grumbled. If he could go back to his room and take a nap, it would be great, but he had to follow Horgan in the afternoon. He wondered if he could manage to sneak in 20 or 30 minutes of sleep after lunch.

If he met Horgan, he was sure the man would already know about the incident and would look at him with those cold eyes. After all, Horgan had never been particularly friendly toward him, so he might even make a few harsh remarks.

“If stress could kill, I’d probably have died long ago.”

Taeui muttered while scratching his head. He didn’t feel very hungry, but knowing he’d be following Horgan around all afternoon, he figured he should eat something before attempting a nap. His stomach was usually fine, but at this rate, he figured it wouldn’t be long before it developed an ulcer.

“Just one more week to endure, just one more week…” – He muttered as he descended the stairs, but then he suddenly stopped.

Right below the staircase, a familiar figure was coming up. Just seeing the top of his head was enough for him to recognize the familiar man.

Ilay. After disappearing into the forest last night, he had only heard that Ilay reappeared at dawn, covered in blood. This was the first time he was seeing him in person since then.

He looked completely clean. The blood-stained hands and the body drenched in blood were now spotless, as if nothing had ever happened. Seeing him like this, Taeui could understand why that fool Jeongpil called him a desk clerk or office worker.

Ilay noticed him too and seemed to slow down for a moment. But in truth, he didn’t reduce his pace; he continued ascending the stairs steadily. His gaze locked directly onto Taeui.

Taeui glanced briefly at the thin bandage wrapped around Ilay’s hand. The bandage was so pristine that he doubted there was a knife wound underneath. Ilay’s eyes also shifted to Taeui’s arm. The bandage wrapped around his own hand was hidden beneath his sleeve, making it impossible to see.

“…….”

The distance between Taeui, descending the stairs, and Ilay, ascending the stairs, gradually closed. Their eyes remained fixed on each other. But even as the distance shortened, even when they were separated by only two steps and eventually stood on the same stair, neither of them spoke. No one broke the silence first.

The moment they passed each other on the same step, the backs of their hands brushed lightly against one another. He felt the rough texture of the bandage graze his skin, and he flinched, his fingers curling slightly. Ilay must have felt it too. But it was only a fleeting moment; right after, Taeui stood on the step below while Ilay was on the step above.

Taeui said nothing. Ilay remained silent as well.

Once they left the shared staircase, their eyes no longer met. He continued in his direction, and Taeui went his own way.

The sound of Ilay’s footsteps echoed distinctly on the stairs, a steady clack, clack, clack rhythm.

Soon, the sound of his footsteps faded into the floor above. It seemed he had walked down the hallway.

When Taeui could no longer sense his presence, he stopped walking. Right in front of him was the door leading to the cafeteria, but he did not open it. Instead, he stood still in place.

“…….”

A sudden wave of irritation surged within him.

He felt an overwhelming urge to turn back, chase after Ilay, and smack him hard on the back of his head. (If he could carry out even half of what he was imagining, it would likely escalate into a full-blown fight.)

“Now he has the nerve to ignore me like this.”

Taeui pushed aside the fact that he himself had ignored Ilay as well and muttered under his breath. Saying it out loud only made him angrier.

‘You bastard, because of you, I can’t sleep, can’t rest, and I’m so stressed my stomach hurts, yet you walk past with that indifferent face, without even saying a word, and just act like nothing happened, you insane jerk…’—a torrent of thoughts and curses ran through his mind.

He might just become the first case in the world to die from stress, Taeui thought as he took a deep breath. He pounded his chest lightly a few times, then inhaled deeply three or four more times until the burning heat in his chest began to cool.

First, he needed to eat. After eating, if possible, he would try to catch a quick nap; if that didn’t work, he’d go find that guy and settle the score by hitting him on the back of his head…

Just as he was thinking that and opened the door to step into the hallway…

“Hey. Jeong Taeui.”

A man sitting on the bench against the wall right next to the door stood up and blocked his path. It was Jeongpil.

Seeing the pale, almost frightening, look on his face made Taeui frown in surprise. ‘What’s he doing here?’ – He wondered, but he immediately understood. Jeongpil had been waiting for him.

In fact, this was the quickest route from the instructors’ office to the cafeteria. If he wanted to intercept him on his way out, this was the most logical place to wait. Moreover, this spot had little foot traffic, making it perfect for stirring up trouble.

Exactly. Trouble. Was this guy really waiting here to pick a fight?

Taeui felt his heart, which had just calmed down, grow hot and heavy again, and he clicked his tongue lightly. Just like every other time, he knew he was in for another unpleasant encounter.

“Jeong Taeui. That Yankee* guy people are gossiping about, the one they say has some shady relationship with you—is it him?”

(*Yankee: used in a mocking sense, referring to Ilay as a foreigner (specifically an American) with a derogatory tone.)

That was the first thing Jeongpil blurted out.

Taeui had anticipated the question. But he hadn’t expected Jeongpil to dive straight into the topic right from the start. He looked down at the floor and let out a sigh. However, when he lifted his head to meet Jeongpil’s gaze, there wasn’t a hint of hesitation.

“Yes.”

He answered firmly, causing the one who had asked to freeze. Jeongpil’s eyes widened, his mouth gaping in disbelief, before he let out a scoffing laugh and asked again.

“Is it really him? Rick?”

“Yes.”

Huffing, Jeongpil sneered through his nose, his eyes glaring intensely at Taeui. Taeui stared back, refusing to back down.

“You’re insane, you damn pervert gay! Out of all the people, you choose to do that kind of thing with him? ――Oh, right, I saw it yesterday. That thing of his looked huge. So, how was it? Was it so good that you just had to do that with him?”

“Yeah, it was amazing. I’m not kidding, his thing could kill someone, you bastard!”

Taeui suddenly snapped, feeling like his weak spot had been hit directly. No, in truth, he did harbor a bit of insecurity, though for different reasons than others might assume.

At the same time, although Jeongpil often threw around the term ‘pervert gay’ like a habit, the way he bluntly targeted a specific person and spewed such crude words only fueled Taeui’s anger further. It had nothing to do with him or anyone else; it was just between him and Ilay.

Normally, Taeui could stay calm enough to smile and retort mockingly: ‘Yeah, it was great. What, you want to try it too? Or are you insecure because yours is nothing like his? Don’t be so down—maybe see a doctor about it’. But not this time. This time, he didn’t have the energy to joke around like that. He was nearing the edge of his mental exhaustion.

‘Don’t do this,  Jeongpil. You’re like someone slapping a kid on the back when they’re about to cry. Just stop. I’m really not in the mood today. I don’t want to be the jerk who punches someone unrelated just to vent my anger.’

“……Ha. Are you really losing it, Jeong Taeui?”

Jeongpil’s sharp gaze pierced through him. Maybe he hadn’t slept last night either. The whites of his eyes were slightly red, and the stubble on his chin made his face look worn and haggard.

The corners of Jeongpil’s mouth curled up, a sneer mixed with contempt etched clearly on his face.

“Those homosexuals are truly disgusting. As long as they want to do it, it doesn’t matter who the other person is, right? As long as they’re good at it, it doesn’t matter if he’s a butcher who kills people or a beast who swings a knife around, right? Ha, that’s just perfect, isn’t it? That’s why people hate them. It’s not a coincidence when people say homosexuals should just die, is it? Human morals don’t matter at all, as long as that need is satisfied, right? As long as they know how to dig their own hole the right way?”

“…―.”

For a moment, Taeui was at a loss for words.

Kim Jeongpil, this bastard, his filthy mouth was nothing new, but this time he had crossed a line. Even if you stuffed a rag into his mouth, it wouldn’t be as dirty as the words he was spewing. Or maybe it was because Taeui was at the end of his patience that these words felt even more grating, like a direct punch to his eardrums.

“You loudmouth, what did you just say?”

Taeui let out a sharp laugh, a single “Ha” in response. His head buzzed from the absurdity of the words, so ridiculous that laughter escaped him before his anger could fully ignite.

“I said those perverts should just die already, didn’t you hear? Didn’t catch it? Let me say it again for you, you pervert! Get lost and die along with that crazy murderer!”

Jeongpil hissed, lifting his chin, eyes full of challenge as he stepped closer to Taeui, one deliberate step at a time.

“You, huh? Yeah, who would stay by your side if they were decent? Only a lunatic like that would stick with you and do that kind of thing with you! That guy’s insane! He’s out of his mind! Don’t you see it?! He’s a deranged butcher, a mad killer!”

Jeongpil stood right in front of Taeui, just a step away. Close enough that if Taeui reached out, he could touch him. The twisted, angry expression on Jeongpil’s face was clear in his view.

“――So what? What does that have to do with you?”

Taeui’s voice dropped, becoming deeper and calmer, in stark contrast to Jeongpil’s, which grew louder as if driven by agitation.

As soon as the cold, firm words left his lips – “…what does that have to do with you?” – Jeongpil’s mouth twisted.

“Because I can’t stand it; it makes me sick!”

His voice broke, trembling with rage and agitation.

“A gay ass sleeping with a deranged killer, only to eventually end up murdered by him—just hearing it is enough to make anyone nauseous, isn’t it? Don’t you feel anything? Huh? Can’t you see it? That’s your future if you keep getting involved with that lunatic, you bastard!”

The moment Jeongpil’s tirade ended, a loud smack echoed as Taeui’s fist crashed into his face. Jeongpil slammed against the hallway wall and crumpled to the floor, while Taeui stepped forward, shaking his fist.

There was no longer a hint of a smile on Taeui’s face, not even a forced one. He had no patience left for any of it. The anger burned so fiercely that his mind went blank; he no longer cared who the person before him was.

“Fine. Maybe you’re right, or maybe you’re not. Either way, it’s my business, not yours. But since I’m pissed off right now, you’re going to have to take a few punches first.”

Taeui muttered calmly. After a moment of stunned blinking, Jeongpil let out an enraged, scornful laugh and gritted his teeth. He sprang up and lunged at him. Taeui didn’t hesitate; he grabbed Jeongpil’s collar as Jeongpil grabbed his, and they both tumbled onto the dusty hallway floor.

In that moment, he felt like he understood the mindset of someone intent on killing.

Some of what Jeongpil said wasn’t entirely wrong. At least, part of it held some truth. The path ahead certainly wasn’t going to be smooth or filled with flowers. Perhaps, as Jeongpil suggested, he really might die at Ilay’s hands one day.

But.

At the very least, he didn’t want to hear insults about Ilay from this man’s mouth.

Just the thought of someone he despised as much as Jeongpil daring to mention Ilay made him feel sick, and hearing him insult Ilay only fueled his rage. Even when those close to him said anything about Ilay, it was enough to upset him—let alone Jeongpil. That was unacceptable.

Perhaps it was precisely because some of Jeongpil’s words weren’t entirely wrong that Taeui felt even angrier. If someone asked if he was reacting because his own pain had been touched upon, he wouldn’t be able to deny it.

If it were someone else, Taeui might have brushed it off, thinking: ‘Yeah, Ilay deserves that kind of criticism’. After all, those words weren’t completely false. Even if he was biased toward Ilay, it would be hard to argue back when someone was criticizing him with some measure of truth.

But Jeongpil, this guy—no. Especially not in this moment, when Taeui was in this state of mind.

Maybe it was just a way to vent. He didn’t care if it made him seem petty or spiteful. But hearing Ilay insulted by this man was something he could not accept.

“Homosexuals? What does it matter if someone’s a homo?――Yeah, that’s right. I slept with him. So what are you going to do about it? You’re nothing but a pathetic coward—so low that even the homo perverts you despise wouldn’t give you the time of day!” 

“What did you say, you bastard?!”

They lunged at each other, fists flying wildly.

Punches landed indiscriminately – on faces, stomachs, sides, anywhere they could reach – and Taeui responded with blows of his own. His mind was numbed by fury, so much so that he couldn’t even feel the pain. Jeongpil seemed just as crazed, swinging his fists madly without any thought of defense, leaving his body wide open.

It was nothing more than a meaningless brawl, with both sides wildly throwing punches at each other.

“What do you want, huh? Why are you always lurking around, just waiting for a chance to tear people apart? Does it make you happy to see others struggle in pain when you target their weaknesses?”

Taeui’s voice was filled with years of pent-up anger. The frustrations and grievances accumulated over the years spilled out with every word he spoke.

He was always like this. In Taeui’s memory, Jeongpil had always been that way. Every time he found a weak spot, he’d latch onto it and twist the knife with malice. He had a particular hatred for Taeui, and in return, Taeui felt such revulsion toward him that it made his skin crawl.

――*Thud*

A heavy sound echoed as his fist struck Jeongpil’s stomach.

When Jeongpil exposed his midsection while aiming for Taeui’s chin, Taeui landed a precise blow right below his sternum, deep into his stomach, with full force.

For a moment, Jeongpil’s movement halted.

“Urgh… ugh……..”

The next moment, Jeongpil doubled over as if he’d been punched straight in the gut. His mouth opened as if he were about to vomit. It seemed he hadn’t eaten anything since the night before, so even after several dry heaves, nothing came out except a bit of stomach acid and sticky saliva.

As Jeongpil collapsed to the floor, retching, Taeui stood on his unsteady legs. He wiped the wetness around his mouth – he wasn’t sure if it was sweat or blood. The adrenaline rush numbed him to the pain, but blood had smeared across the back of his hand. His lip might have split, or maybe his nose was bleeding. His mind was hazy, and his senses felt dulled.

“Kim Jeongpil, you have no right to curse that ‘mad killer.’ You use your poisonous tongue to tear people apart, and then you have the nerve to act all innocent, saying: ‘I didn’t do anything, I didn’t cause any real harm. If you’re in this much pain, maybe it’s because you felt your own wounds being touched’ and you pretend like you’re not at fault, like you’re the one in the right, don’t you?”

Taeui panted, his words spilling out, laden with fury. Each deep breath made his chest throb. He couldn’t feel it clearly now, the sensation dulled by the adrenaline, but he was certain it was badly bruised. He thought to himself that as soon as the anger subsided, the pain would come crashing down all over his body.

But at that moment, he couldn’t even feel the pain. His head was still burning hot, the rage refusing to die down.

The man before him, with his twisted, vicious expression after retching, made Taeui feel such hatred that he almost wanted to kill him.

Yes, this was just a way to vent. His anger went beyond the irritation Jeongpil’s words had caused. It was an eruption of everything he’d endured, all the filth that had driven him to this wretched state.

Still, the most important thing was that standing in front of him was the person he had loathed for so many years, the one who had pushed him to the breaking point.

Taeui spat a glob of blood-mixed saliva onto the hallway floor. His teeth felt loose. Even the inside of his mouth throbbed in pain.

“You bastard…”

Jeongpil staggered to his feet, his legs trembling. His face was contorted, grotesque as he wiped his mouth. He grabbed Taeui by the collar, pulling him close as if to start another fight. But Taeui, standing face-to-face with him, looked him straight in the eyes and unleashed all the pent-up emotions he’d harbored for years, articulating each word clearly.

“To me, the most disgusting person I’ve ever met is you. Do you understand? Out of everyone I’ve ever known, you are the one who makes me sick, the one I truly want to throw up over, Jeongpil.”

Kim Jeongpil froze.

Jeongpil, his face so close that their noses almost touched as he yanked Taeui’s collar, stared at him unblinking. Taeui could see how his eyes seemed to freeze, as if Taeui’s words had cast a spell that left him immobile. Only his eyes remained cold and piercing, locked onto Taeui.

Taeui muttered a curse under his breath, not directed at anyone in particular. He grabbed Jeongpil’s wrist, prying off the hand gripping his collar, and shoved it aside forcefully. To his surprise, Jeongpil’s hand let go easily, falling limply in midair.

He pushed Jeongpil aside, who stood there frozen like a statue, and resumed walking in the direction he had intended to go.

His appetite was completely gone. Instead, he thought it might be better to find some corner to catch a quick nap, though he wasn’t sure if his head, boiling with agitation like he’d just disturbed a hornet’s nest, could settle enough for sleep.

“JEONG TAEUI!!”

He had only taken a few steps when a shrill, almost desperate, shout called his name from behind.

Taeui halted, turning to look back.

Jeongpil was still standing in the same spot, his eyes fixed on him. But this time, his gaze was fierce. It was no longer the look of disdain and mockery he used to give; now, his eyes were filled with genuine hatred, burning with resentment.

Even though he had called out to him, Jeongpil said nothing more, only biting down hard on his pale lips. In front of him, Taeui spoke coldly.

“Don’t say my name. Just hearing it come out of your mouth makes me sick.”

Taeui turned and walked away. This time, no matter how much Jeongpil might shout or scream behind him, he wasn’t going to stop or look back again.

But contrary to Taeui’s expectation that Jeongpil might call after him or rush forward to grab his shoulder and throw a punch, there was no response. No footsteps approached, and no voice called out to make him stop.

All he could hear was the sound of ragged breathing, struggling to stay controlled, and he felt the searing gaze like flames burning into his back, trailing him until he turned the corner of the hallway, never once pausing for even a second.