Holding the boarding pass that had been issued without any trouble, Taeui walked toward the gate, where his uncle was waiting.

His uncle stood there, his gaze fixed on the quarantine notices scattered throughout the airport. Even as Taeui approached and stood quietly by his side, the man didn’t spare him a glance, his focus remaining on the notice with a somber intensity before he finally spoke.

“These people are misunderstanding something.” – His uncle said: “There are humans who are weapons in themselves, completely unrelated to knives, guns, or liquids. How do they plan to screen for that?”

“Even those kinds of people aren’t in weapon mode 24/7.” 

Taeui responded to his uncle’s words with a calm yet earnest tone. At that moment, it was clear they were both thinking about the same person—the one who had likely already been subjected to a summary trial by now.

“And how common do you think people like that are, anyway? If there were two of his kind in this world, I think I’d rather quietly leave for the next one.”

“But if you ask me, I think that guy will probably follow you all the way to the next world, my dear nephew.”

“…You’re probably right.” 

Taeui muttered, unsure whether to feel amused or disheartened. Seeing his nephew’s conflicted expression, his uncle shot him a knowing glance, his eyes curling into a faint smile.

“Well, at least he won’t be on the same flight as you. That’s a relief, isn’t it?” 

“I don’t really care,” – Taeui replied casually: “He’s not a weapon to me anyway.”

Taeui shrugged, refraining from adding: “If I die, he’ll die too.” His uncle’s face shifted into an expression that perfectly captured his ambivalence—uncertain whether to feel relieved or concerned. But, true to his optimistic nature, his uncle seemed to choose the brighter interpretation. With a faint smile, he gently patted Taeui on the shoulder, as if to reassure him.

“Welp, it won’t take too long. If it’s short, the conclusion will come within 1 or 2 weeks, and at most, it won’t take more than a month or two. So, don’t be too sad about being alone.”

“As if I would.”

As long as there was a promise that he would come back someday, there was no room for shadows to fall over his heart. He would live his life, and the other would live his, walking parallel paths just within reach. That was enough. Just like now.

“The circumstances are too obvious. Besides, the client who hired Rick is a military general. Horgan won’t escape unscathed, but that guy? He’ll walk out with his usual smug face.”

Taeui raised an eyebrow at him, a hint of skepticism in his gaze. “A general?” – He repeated, his tone questioning. Seeing Taeui’s reaction, his uncle gave a slight shrug, feigning a look of mild embarrassment as if he’d accidentally let something slip. “Oops”, he muttered with mock discomfort.

“You didn’t know? It’s a secret. Even the other Instructors don’t know about this.”

As his uncle stretched out the final word with a teasing lilt, Taeui’s expression darkened. A thought crept in, unbidden: No matter how hard he worked himself to the bone, how much of what he earned could compare to even a fraction of what that guy made? At the same time, it felt as though he’d caught a fleeting glimpse of the world’s hidden gears turning in places he couldn’t see.

…So that’s why it was New York. It made sense. After all, Washington wasn’t far from New York, and Horgan was military—if it was someone higher up the chain, it wasn’t hard to understand.

Taeui wasn’t sure how Horgan had managed to draw so much ire from his superiors—though, to be fair, he didn’t strike Taeui as someone particularly likable. Still, he found himself thinking it was fortunate that Ilay, at least, might have an easier time disentangling himself from the situation. Reflecting on this, Taeui suddenly realized how much he had been shaped by the grime of the world, and a wry smile tugged at his lips.

“This is bad. My bias keeps growing stronger. I’d really like to be a more objective and fair person, but it doesn’t seem to be working.”

“Is that so? That’s not a bad thought.” – His uncle replied: “…But sometimes, I think this: Having someone who stands by your side no matter what, without question, can be a pillar of support in life.”

“…I’ll be that person for you.” 

Taeui said, his voice quiet but firm. He didn’t look at his uncle as he spoke, though he could feel his uncle’s gaze shifting toward him. Taeui kept his eyes forward, a faint flush of embarrassment creeping up on him. It had been an impulsive remark, and while it wasn’t a lie, the sincerity of it made him feel unexpectedly self-conscious.

His uncle stared at Taeui for a moment before eventually smiling softly.

“And what will you do if I end up on bad terms with Rick?”

“Well——,——I trust your judgment, Uncle” 

Taeui replied after a brief moment of contemplation, his brow furrowing slightly. At that, his uncle burst out laughing, a clear and refreshing sound. “Ahaha” – He chuckled, nodding his head in agreement.

“True enough. I have absolutely no desire to make my life more complicated by clashing with that guy. Not now, not ever.”

His uncle paused for a moment, then made a faint grimace and offered a wry smile.

“But I might find myself at odds with Jaeui for a while. Our branch is going to have its hands full dealing with the fallout from his research for some time.”

“Hmm… I’ll stay neutral, for now.” – Taeui replied, choosing his words carefully.

If it came down to picking sides, Taeui knew he’d likely side with his brother. But he also believed it wouldn’t escalate to that point. Most importantly, when he’d spoken to his brother just the day before, it had been clear that Jaeui was completely unaware of the situation unfolding in Hong Kong.

With all this commotion, one would think Jaeui would have heard something, yet his response suggested otherwise, completely unaware of the situation. Taeui suspected someone higher up in Jaeui’s chain of command –  someone he could likely guess – was intentionally keeping him out of the loop to avoid unnecessary complications. When Jaeui did hear about it during their conversation, he paused briefly, seemingly lost in thought, before calmly remarking: “It doesn’t seem like that matter will reach me directly. I trust they’ll come to the best conclusion.”

When Taeui asked if it was really fine for such a volatile molecular formula to be floating around so dangerously, Jaeui gave a slightly awkward smile and replied: “That person will make sure it doesn’t go in a direction I wouldn’t want.” His voice was calm yet resolute, leaving no room for doubt about his confidence in the matter.

Ah, so that’s how it is.

At that moment, Taeui realized something.

There was no need—truly no need—to worry about his brother anymore.

His brother had never been someone he needed to worry about in the first place, but now, in a different sense, Taeui felt there was no longer any reason to worry about him at all.

Hanging up the phone with a mix of slight bitterness and relief, Taeui thought sincerely: ‘This is for the best.’ He didn’t know when they would meet again, but he believed that when the time came, his brother would still be under the protection of his lucky star.

…However.

His uncle, and the entire Asia branch, for that matter—would likely be unable to avoid a chaotic period for a while. After all, that so-called royal figure didn’t seem as generous toward others as he was toward Jaeui.

Taeui silently wished his uncle luck—or perhaps offered a small prayer for the man’s survival under the impending mountain of work.

At that moment, his uncle’s gaze shifted over Taeui’s shoulder, and with a slight lift of his eyebrows, he motioned with his chin.

“By the way, aren’t those your peers over there?”

Following his uncle’s gesture, Taeui turned his head and saw 3 or 4 people standing about a dozen steps away. They appeared to be external trainees with Korean citizenship, likely returning to Korea just as he was. Among them, Taeui recognized a few familiar faces. One of them, Yoon Changoh, caught Taeui’s eye and raised a hand slightly in a subtle greeting. Taeui responded with a light nod. 

Despite Yoon Changoh’s acknowledgment – and the obvious fact that Taeui was standing there – Kim Jeongpil stood beside him, didn’t so much as glance in his direction. Instead, Jeongpil turned away completely, his expression stoic and indifferent. Taeui felt a bitter discomfort, then clicked his tongue lightly in frustration.

“Are they on the same flight as you?” – His uncle asked.

“No.” – Taeui replied: “I talked to Changoh briefly earlier. Their flight is an hour later than mine.”

“Good thing, at least I won’t have to run into them on the plane.” – Taeui grumbled to himself. Most of the external trainees had left as soon as the training period ended, but those few had stayed behind for a few extra days. It was because one of their group, Kim Jeongpil, had sustained an injury, making it impossible for him to board a flight immediately.

To make matters worse, a few days ago, Kim Jeongpil had suddenly shown up with a large bandage on his jaw, seemingly out of nowhere. Rumor had it that he’d somehow fractured his jawbone.

‘He’s probably stuck on a liquid diet for a while. Poor guy. That stuff tastes awful.’ – Taeui thought spitefully.

“Hmm. Why don’t you go say goodbye? Once you part ways, who knows when you’ll see them again,” his uncle suggested.

“No, I’ll pass.” – Taeui replied, shaking his head. He had already exchanged brief greetings with Yoon Changoh earlier, and that was enough for him.

Taeui had actually crossed paths with Kim Jeongpil earlier that morning, in the hallway before leaving the base. Since Jeongpil had helped him in various ways during their time together, Taeui thought it would be proper to say something. So, he approached him, greeting him with a casual “Hey”, in the gentlest tone he could manage. But the moment the words left his mouth, Jeongpil had recoiled like he’d stepped on a dead rat, his shoulders jerking in an exaggerated flinch. Without even looking Taeui in the eye, he snapped his head away sharply and quickened his pace, as if he couldn’t bear to hear another word.

The blatant rejection stung.

‘Right. You saw me in the middle of that ‘homo stuff,’ and it disgusted you so much you can’t even look at me now, huh?’ – Taeui thought bitterly.

‘Seriously, I’m the one who should feel embarrassed here—me! I even swallowed my pride to say hello, and he just blatantly ignores me like that!?’ – Taeui fumed internally. 

He silently cursed Jeong-pil: ‘I kind of like Captain Kim, the one not bad in his own way! But to me, he’s still the petty Lieutenant Kim from back in the day.’

Noticing Yoon Changoh awkwardly smiling and attempting to greet him despite the tension, Taeui returned the gesture with a brief nod. Then, as the group began to leave, Taeui watched their retreating figures for a moment before slowly shifting his gaze away. The frustration that had flared up inside him gradually subsided, leaving him to exhale a light sigh, as though letting go of a weight.

This was probably the end of his connection with them.

And that wasn’t a bad thing.

It felt as though a tangled knot that had stubbornly refused to loosen was finally undone. While he had failed to improve their relationship – not that he’d really intended to – it no longer felt like anything was unresolved or left hanging.

“…Still, I think it was good that I saw them again.”

When Taeui murmured to himself, his uncle responded with a silent smile, his eyes crinkling in amusement. Seeing that expression, Taeui briefly wondered if running into those people here might have been his uncle’s doing. But he decided not to ask.

There were no lingering regrets or unresolved feelings left behind. Regardless of how things had turned out, he felt oddly satisfied with the result.

Taeui let out a soft chuckle, almost like a sigh, as the tension in his shoulders melted away.

“Guess it’s about time I get going.” – When Taeui glanced at the wall clock and spoke, his uncle checked his wristwatch as well.

“I see…It’s about time Ilay’s hearing wrapped up. Why don’t you give Rick a call before your flight?”

As his uncle suggested, it was indeed around the time Ilay, who had gone into the internal judiciary office just before Taeui left, should be finishing up. He might have even been released already. Whatever decision came out of the hearing was unlikely to change—once the judgment was made, it would probably hold to the end.

Taeui paused in thought for a moment but quickly shook his head.

“No, it’s fine. We’re supposed to meet in Korea next month anyway, so I can talk to him then.”

“He said he’s coming next month?” – His uncle asked, his expression amused, as though picturing Rick making such a statement despite the unresolved situation. 

“Yes.” – Taeui replied with a shrug, nonchalant.

“He seemed absolutely certain about it,” Taeui said.

“Hmm. If Rick said so, then it’ll probably happen.” – His uncle replied, letting out a chuckle as though the thought amused him endlessly. Watching the soft wrinkles form at the corners of his uncle’s eyes, Taeui couldn’t help but smile faintly as well. “Probably so. He’s never been one for empty promises.” – He replied.

Yes, Rick had never made empty promises. He would undoubtedly meet Taeui again next month, just as he had said, and he would keep the words he had spoken to him—words tinged with a bittersweet undertone.

As the uniformed man standing at the gate took Taeui’s passport and boarding pass to inspect them, his uncle stopped at the last step of their farewell.

“Take care and stay healthy until we meet again.” 

Taeui said, turning to face his uncle just before stepping through the gate. Whether that meeting would come tomorrow or in the distant future was a promise left to an uncertain fate.

But just as Taeui showed no sign of regret or sadness, his uncle also smiled calmly and nodded.

“Alright. Come again. Contact me if there’s anything you need to pass by.”

“Even if I don’t, you’ll just find a way to hold me up along the way, won’t you?” 

Taeui quipped, waving his ticket playfully as if to emphasize his point. His uncle chuckled briefly at the remark, the amusement lighting up his face.

“Exactly. So if you know that, make sure you stop by first,” his uncle replied with a grin.

“I’ll try.” – Taeui said with a shrug, his tone light.

For a moment, he stood there in silence, facing his uncle. With that ever-present smile on his face, his uncle looked like someone who would always be right there, unwavering and steady.

And perhaps because of that, Taeui was able to turn away without any heaviness in his heart.

With the promise of soon-to-be-reunited faces and days yet to come, Taeui stepped forward, a quiet sense of contentment accompanying his steps.