Ilay studied Jeongpil intently for a moment, then glanced over at Taeui. He looked down at Taeui, whose hands were bound behind his back, and raised an eyebrow.

“So, there are times when you get into trouble that’s not my doing, Taeui.”

Hearing that slow, casual tone, Taeui blinked in surprise. But then he remembered. That time, when he’d lost his temper and swung a punch at Ilay’s face, he’d shouted, “It’s all because of you that I’m living this miserable life!”

“………”

“You really are petty……. Still holding on to things like that even now?”

Thinking back, Ilay had always been a bit like that from the beginning. If, in a moment of drowsiness, Taeui let slip a curse, Ilay would remember it precisely and later bring it up at some crucial moment, even with a knowing smile. Once, during a conversation, Taeui had carelessly misspoken, and when he glanced over, Ilay pretended not to have heard. But later, Ilay would bring it up with a mocking smile, precisely when it mattered most.

“Indeed, number 18.” – Taeui grumbled while frowning.

“But this time it’s not exactly a life-threatening situation……. Ah, hurry up and untie me!” Taeui shouted, frowning. Ilay looked at him for a moment, then glanced at Jeongpil, who was sitting on his lap, before turning back to Taeui. Ilay’s tone grew slightly colder.

“Beg for it. Do it in a way that pleases me. Then I’ll help you.”

“What?”

Taeui stared at Ilay in shock, unable to believe his ears.

Beg!?! It was the first time since that incident that he felt so deeply unsettled.

Taeui’s expression gradually turned cold as well.

“If I don’t beg……. you’ll just stand there and watch, waiting until I do?”

“Exactly. I want to hear it, Taeui. I need to hear you say that no matter what happens, you’ll never leave me.”

“You have a charming way of maneuvering to get what you want, but once you say something, you’re rather good at keeping your word.” Ilay added slowly, folding his arms and leaning against the wall as if he truly intended to just stand there and watch it all play out.

As for Taeui…….

He felt more frustrated than ever.

Even begging a complete stranger wouldn’t make him feel this humiliated.

“Jeongpil. GET OFF ME!!!”

With his gaze fixed in furious defiance at Ilay, Taeui gritted his teeth and muttered sharply at Jeongpil. Jeongpil, who had been sitting on his legs the whole time, furrowed his brow slightly but made no move to get off. Taeui suddenly half-rose, slamming his head forcefully into Jeongpil’s nose.*Thud* The impact was so strong that Taeui himself felt a sharp numbing pain in his head, leaving little chance that Jeongpil’s nose was still intact.

“When someone says get lost, you should listen, you idiot!”

As Jeongpil let out a yell and clutched his nose, Taeui gathered his strength and rammed into him, trying to shove him off. Jeongpil seemed ready to resist, but faced with Taeui’s blinding, furious rage, he was thrown backward. Damn it—his hands were tied, and even standing up made him stumble.

“No matter what happens, I’ll never leave you…….?”

Taeui muttered bitterly through clenched teeth. The rope binding his wrists wouldn’t budge. He could feel blood seeping from the torn skin on his wrists. The rope was wet now——but no matter, it was a small thing.

Taeui gripped his left thumb with his right hand—at least he had enough clarity to choose his left hand. No, actually, despite the fury clouding his mind, his reason remained surprisingly intact. In the next instant, he twisted sharply. *Crack* A short decisive sound echoed, and Taeui held his breath for a moment. Damn, the anger dulled the pain, but it still hurt deeply.

Under Ilay’s indifferent gaze, who had been watching silently but wiped his expression as soon as he heard the sound, Taeui faced him, trembling as he pulled his hand free from the restraints, his thumb dangling after he’d dislocated it. Blood trickled down from his raw wrist, scraped by the rope, to the back of his hand.

Finally free, Taeui slowly flexed his newly liberated hand and stepped forward. He glared at Jeongpil in front of him with intense hatred and kicked him away, shouting: “GET LOST, YOU BASTARD!”

But right now, Ilay made him feel even more hatred than Jeongpil. Honestly, there was no one on earth he could detest more at this moment.

“How amusing” – Taeui muttered under his breath, then strode quickly toward Ilay, his eyes locked onto the silent, dark gaze fixed on him.

“In this situation, you’re still saying things like that? If it were you, would you stay by someone like yourself no matter what happens? Even a statue would turn away, and even a Buddha would shatter to pieces, wouldn’t they?!”

As he spoke those words, Taeui clenched his hand and drove his right fist straight into Ilay’s abdomen. He knew full well that a blow to the solar plexus wouldn’t faze someone like Ilay much. This punch wouldn’t make any real impact, but he simply couldn’t hold back his fury.

As expected, Ilay merely coughed a short faint sound, then barely reacted. “Move” – Taeui growled, turning toward the door.

He was genuinely so furious he didn’t want to see anyone’s face—neither Ilay’s nor Jeongpil’s. Right now, he just wanted to find a place to be alone.

“Taei, your hand.”

Even that calm voice made his blood boil.

“I’ll handle it myself without begging you, so stay out of it!”

Taeui deliberately kicked the half-open door, sending it swinging as he stormed into the hallway. His heavy angry footsteps echoed as he made his way toward the stairs, but then he stopped halfway. His shirt hung loosely, with buttons torn off, and though his pants were pulled up, the zipper was still undone, leaving him feeling disheveled and uncomfortable.

Then it hit him……. he hadn’t dealt with that bastard Jeongpil.

His mind was a chaotic mess, but that thought suddenly flared up. His anger toward Ilay had momentarily made him forget, but handling Jeongpil was a task he couldn’t overlook.

Taeui immediately turned around, striding quickly toward the training room, his footsteps echoing loudly.

“Kim Jeongpil, you!”

He kicked open the half-closed door with enough force to make it swing wide again, nearly coming off its hinges.

But what he saw as he entered the training room, along with the shout that echoed louder than the door’s impact, made him stop in his tracks.

Jeongpil had stood up, brushing dust from his clothes with a look of irritation and anger, glaring at Ilay. As for Ilay, he displayed no emotion whatsoever, calmly slipping on a pair of gloves right in front of Jeongpil.

“…………………!!!”

A chill ran down Taeui’s spine, as if cold water had been poured down his back.

“Hey, hold on! That one’s mine! Don’t lay a hand on him!”

“What?! I haven’t even touched him! Are you out of your mind?!”

Who knows what twisted thoughts were running through Jeongpil’s rotten mind as he jumped up in response. Truly beyond words. Ilay, who had just finished putting on his gloves, merely raised an eyebrow, as if silently asking why Taeui had returned.

“Kim Jeongpil, get out of my sight this instant, you idiot, before this time next year becomes the anniversary of your death! No, no, actually—die by my hands first.”

Taeui rolled up his sleeves and strode into the room. As the cuff brushed against his wrist, a sharp pain made him wince. Only now did he notice that his sleeve was stained with blood from his torn wrist……. which only fueled his hatred for Jeongpil even more!

At that exact moment, Ilay, who had been silently clenching and unclenching his fists in his gloves, spoke in a low voice:

“Taei, I think I have a stake in this too. This man tried to touch something he shouldn’t have. He attempted to lay his hands on what’s mine.”

“I’m not begging you! You missed that chance! If you want to interfere, wait for the next round, because this one’s mine!”

“Oh, I don’t think I’ll be waiting.”

Damn it. It was clear that Ilay wasn’t planning to back down. And this wasn’t a joke—he genuinely looked like he was ready to kill that arrogant bastard Kim.

Of course, Taeui hated Jeongpil. He was ready to give him a serious beating, maybe even break his skull. But he had no intention of killing anyone. Not like……. someone else.

“…….Kim Jeongpil, you bastard, at least die at my hands first. Halfway, at least.”

Recklessly, Taeui stepped forward and pushed Ilay aside. The first thing his eyes landed on was something he instinctively picked up.

A heavy iron chair, so weighty that even lifting it took all his strength.

Jeongpil, who had been watching the exchange between the two with a mixture of suspicion, and a hint of dissatisfaction, suddenly looked alarmed—his eyes widening as he saw Taeui raise the chair.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing with that――?”

Still, it was a hundred times more merciful than those gloved fists.

Taeui poured all his seething anger, along with the last shred of mercy he had left – the thought that, at the very least, Jeongpil should keep his life – into the swing as he brought the chair down.

*Crash* The impact reverberated through the chair, the vibration traveling from its frame up to Taeui’s hands. It was a satisfying blow. At the same time, Jeongpil screamed and fell backward, the sound of his body hitting the wooden floor echoing around the room.

Taeui tossed the chair aside haphazardly. Unfortunately, it landed near Ilay—no doubt something he’d use as an excuse to complain later. But Ilay merely kicked the chair aside like a rolling ball, his gaze cold and detached as he watched Taeui, which only made Taeui’s irritation grow.

“You filthy bastard, where did you pick up such disgusting habits?! It’s not just that you look down on me, it’s that vile personality of yours, you worthless dog—you deserve nothing but to rot! If you’re going to pull that kind of garbage, then cut that thing off altogether! Keeping it is a waste, you lunatic!”

Taeui furiously kicked Jeongpil over and over as he curled up on the floor, clutching his head. His back, arms, legs—nothing was spared. Even though Jeongpil groaned and tried to find an opening to fight back, he couldn’t keep up with Taeui’s unrestrained rage. Few could overcome someone in a frenzy.

The more Taeui thought about it, the more he continued kicking until his anger began to subside. As Jeongpil started to weaken, Taeui crouched down and delivered a final forceful kick to his groin. *Thud*

Taking a deep breath, he looked down at the now-trembling, barely-moving figure of Jeongpil and finally felt a hint of relief. At the same time, he glanced over toward Ilay.

Ilay stood with his arms crossed, observing coldly, his gaze unflinching, as if there was nothing noteworthy about seeing someone on the verge of being beaten to death. When Taeui’s eyes met his, Ilay raised an eyebrow slightly.

“Finished? Feel any better now?”

“…….Yeah, a bit, with this one.”

“Good. Then it’s my turn. Step aside.”

Ilay pushed himself off the wall, clenching and releasing his fists as if preparing for action. It seemed he had no intention of removing those gloves.

“………………………… On second thought, maybe I’m not quite done yet” – Taeui muttered.

He glanced back at Jeongpil. But upon seeing him sprawled out like a corpse, his scalp torn, and his face a bloody mess of split lips and a broken nose, Taeui lost any urge to strike him further. He knew, though, that if he stepped back, the person waiting behind him wouldn’t hesitate to finish off him.

“Let him live for now; there’ll be time to deal with him later.”

Taeui spoke loudly, making sure Ilay could hear, then grabbed Jeongpil by the scruff of his neck and hauled him up. He dragged him out of the training room like a sack of grain, leaving Ilay to watch in silence.

Ilay stood by the door, watching with an icy gaze, but Taeui met that look calmly before continuing to drag Jeongpil’s barely conscious body into the hallway. He had expected Ilay to block his path and demand he hand over Jeongpil, but to his surprise, Ilay only shot Jeongpil a menacing glare without making a move to interfere.

Taeui didn’t dare look back, quickening his pace toward the elevator, uncertain of when Ilay might change his mind.

Jeongpil seemed completely unconscious now, his body limp and unbearably heavy as Taeui dragged him along. Why did he even bother saving this idiot’s life? He himself wanted to crush this bastard. Muttering curses under his breath, Taeui still couldn’t bring himself to abandon him and resolutely continued pulling him toward the elevator.

The walk from the training room, located near the end of the hallway, to the elevator was a long one, and by the time Taeui reached it, he was drenched in sweat.

Standing before the elevator doors, their metallic surface reflecting like a mirror, he caught a glimpse of his own sorry state. Bruised and swollen around his eyes, his lip split and crusted with dried blood, his wrists scraped raw, and his left thumb joint swollen. He figured that even the parts hidden under his clothes were likely covered in bruises as well.

…….What a ridiculous sight. And yet, here he was, having just faced off against Ilay looking like this.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake…….”

Taeui ruffled his hair, then instinctively glanced back. A long trail of blood stretched down the hallway where he had dragged Jeongpil, eerily resembling a scene from a horror movie he’d once watched. At the time, he’d thought such sights were horrifying. But with his head throbbing in anger, he felt nothing now.

Soon enough, the elevator doors opened, and Taeui groaned as he hauled Jeongpil inside. As he pulled him in, the doors closed on Jeongpil’s leg. The unconscious man let out a faint groan, his body reflexively curling, and the doors opened again.

“Not like your legs are that long, yet you still manage to get stuck” – Taeui muttered, shoving Jeongpil’s leg fully inside. The doors finally closed.

When the elevator reached the floor of the medical room, Taeui sighed in relief. His tense shoulders finally started to relax.

“Consider yourself lucky to have escaped with your life today.”

Taeui muttered, almost as if sighing, as he looked down at Jeongpil, who slumped lifelessly like a corpse. He doubted Jeongpil was conscious enough to hear him, but Taeui figured that today might actually be one of the luckiest days in the man’s life.

He still wanted to land a few more punches, but he was drained—physically and mentally. So much so that he could collapse from sheer exhaustion right there. And more than anything, his mood had plummeted thanks to Ilay. With a weary sigh, Taeui exhaled heavily, feeling utterly drained.

“Hmph……. you actually associate with someone like that…….? You really have no taste…….”

At that moment, the supposedly unconscious Jeongpil began to mumble deliriously, his usual mocking tone slipping through even in his pitiful state.

Taeui glared at him furiously. When the elevator stopped on the next floor and the doors opened, he gave Jeongpil a solid knock on the head before straining to drag him out. Once again, the elevator doors caught on Jeongpil’s leg, making him yelp in pain, and Taeui couldn’t help but think, with a touch of dark satisfaction, that the sound was rather satisfying.

“I’m dragging you to the infirmary, so you’d better be grateful. Just wait till you’ve recovered this battered body of yours—then get ready to take a few more hits.”

Taeui continued to drag Jeongpil down the hallway toward the infirmary. A thin trail of blood stretched along the floor behind them. Later, when Luther saw this mess, he’d undoubtedly explode with anger. But if Taeui managed to slip away before Luther arrived, he’d likely make Jeongpil clean up the hallway himself. Luther never had an ounce of sympathy for patients. The idea of Jeongpil as the hallway janitor brought a wicked smile to Taeui’s face.

“Jeong Taeui, you unlucky bastard……. Your teammates hurl insults at you, even the supervising instructor hates you enough to tell me not to bother with you if you’re late—to just let you do whatever you want……. And the person you call a lover? That thing?”

As Taeui dragged Jeongpil toward the infirmary, the mocking tone of Jeongpil’s voice, loud enough to reach his ears, made him pause.

He stopped dead in his tracks.

The smile vanished from Taeui’s face.

“What did you say?”

“So you’re dating someone who sets conditions for everything and never really helps you with anything——”

“Not that! Before that! What did the supervising instructor say?!”

Taeui grabbed Jeongpil by the collar and pulled him closer. Jeongpil’s bloodied face and swollen eyes stared back at him, widening slightly, before a smirk twisted the corners of his bruised eyes in a look of contempt.

“He said that if you don’t show up on time, he won’t bother looking for you or informing anyone else. Just let you do whatever you want. He gave me that instruction as if he’d completely washed his hands of you. You must have pissed off the higher-ups pretty badly for them to…….—”

Taeui didn’t let him finish his stammering taunts.

His face went rigid as he abruptly shoved Jeongpil aside and bolted out of the room.

Damn it.

No matter how shaken he was, how could he have forgotten something this crucial?

The time Taeui was supposed to meet Horgan had already passed. Any instructors who had been with Horgan likely would have dispersed by now, leaving only Horgan there. Alone,  somewhere.

――Damn it.

It was strange, inexplicably so. Back then, he’d been suspicious when Ilay, with his usual possessiveness, had let him go so easily. Perhaps Ilay already knew—knew that he’d missed his appointment long ago. And perhaps, right at this moment, Ilay was headed there, to where Horgan was now, all alone.

Taeui had thought he just needed to endure today and tomorrow, but in the end, this moment had come sooner than he expected.