Horgan’s voice turned harsh as he shouted. Right after that cowardly cry, Ilay’s short, mocking laugh rang out. Then,

“It’s done.”

He gave a brief reply.

Right after that.

A terrifying scream sounded from behind Taeui. Horgan’s scream pierced through his eardrums. Ilay seemed to be murmuring something, but his low voice was buried in Horgan’s wailing, making it impossible to hear clearly. However, amidst the noise, the distinct sound of thin bones being crushed could still be heard. It seemed as though he’d shoved something into Horgan’s mouth, muffling the scream and turning it heavy.

‘――Pretend you don’t know. Pretend you didn’t hear. Even if you go, it’ll be of no use.’

The voice in his head was as tempting as if it wanted to seduce him; it sounded very much like Ilay’s voice, yet Taeui knew it was actually his own.

“…….―.”

The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek. The pain from the torn, soft tissue brought his hazy mind back into sharp focus.

Damn it.

‘Uncle, why did you assign me to this task?’

‘Hyung, you should have burned all that dangerous molecular data before disappearing.’

‘Ilay, if you’re planning to knock someone out, make sure you actually do it.’

‘Horgan, once this training is over, I’ll make sure to beat you to a pulp.’

Taeui bit down on his cheek two or three more times, and with each bite, he thought of each person, blaming them one by one. One cheek for his brother, the other for his uncle……. and then for names like Horgan, Ilay—those foreign men. And with this last, forceful bite, he bit down for himself, Jeong Taeui, as a way to fully awaken himself, as if to direct his frustration inward.

The one he truly ought to blame was himself—a man who never seemed to have it easy in life.

“Don’t come here, Taei.”

Ilay hadn’t yet turned around to look at Taeui – who was just getting to his feet, still unsteady and dizzy – but as if sensing him, he acknowledged his presence with a brief threat. And that almost-crazed part of Taeui’s mind compelled his feet to move toward him.

“Stop it.”

Taeui’s gaze fell on Horgan, who lay crumpled at Ilay’s feet. He instinctively held his breath for a moment.

Horgan’s face was twisted in monstrous agony, his eyes fixed on the empty space above. His gaze, filled with bitter resentment, roamed across the empty air before locking onto Taeui’s. For a fleeting moment, an unsettling chill crawled up Taeui’s spine. But just as it seemed like Horgan was glaring at him, his eyes rolled back, and he passed out.

Under Ilay’s foot was Horgan’s crushed hand. His fingers were twisted in unnatural directions, and below them, blood seeped out, forming a large pool.

Horgan appeared to be halfway unconscious. With his mouth stuffed with something like a paper towel, he made weak dog-like whimpers, his body twitching sporadically.

“Ilay.”

Taeui called him again. But Ilay didn’t turn around. He ignored the call, as if he hadn’t noticed Taeui’s presence at all. Ilay continued lifting his foot slightly, grazing over Horgan’s crushed fingers and mangled hand, stopping at his wrist.

Taeui pressed his lips together. At this point, he had no choice but to intervene. At the very least, he needed to save that arm—even though the chances of success were slim.

*Crunch*

The moment Ilay’s foot came down on Horgan’s wrist, Taeui lunged toward him. And as if he’d anticipated this, Ilay shifted his body to the side. Taeui had expected him to.

Just once.

Even if he couldn’t inflict direct harm on him, he only needed a single moment to interrupt his movement. Just enough time for Horgan to crawl away and escape from this room.

Perhaps, by some miracle, Taeui could grab Ilay’s arm, even as he was certain Ilay would turn his attack on him. Then he’d circle behind Ilay, twist his arm behind his back—or maybe even pull the knife from his pocket to threaten him. Just a few seconds, that’s all he needed. Just until Horgan could escape.

That was Taeui’s entire plan, even though he knew it was cowardly and the odds of success were close to zero. But he had no choice. This was his only option.

So.

Taeui threw himself directly toward Ilay, even as he saw the dangerous gleam in his eyes. And, just as he’d expected, he saw Ilay’s fist coming straight for him.

…….Damn it. In the end, he couldn’t avoid it. Although he’d predicted exactly how Ilay would strike, the speed of the punch was too fast to dodge entirely, and he didn’t have the strength to block it. All he could do was shift slightly to minimize the impact.

Taeui tried to dodge again, and this time, Ilay put even more force into the punch aimed straight at his chest, as if he genuinely wanted to knock him out. Taeui barely managed to twist his body in time, causing the punch to graze past him by a hair’s breadth.

The punch landed deeply just below his ribcage, sending a short involuntary gasp from Taeui—”Ugh!” A wave of nausea surged in his stomach.

“Got……. it…….”

But despite everything, he had managed to grab hold of Ilay’s powerful arm. Taeui clung tightly to that rough arm with both hands. Now, he only needed to slip behind him and twist his arm——

But.

An immediate icy chill ran down his spine. Before he could move behind Ilay, he felt the weight of an elbow about to come down on his back, aimed at a vulnerable spot.

A single hit to that precise spot could cause serious injury, possibly even instant death.

“…….―!”

This wasn’t just a punch—it was an elbow strike. If he was unlucky, it could cost him his life. And if he was lucky enough to survive, he’d likely end up in the hospital.

In that moment of panic, Taeui suddenly looked up. For an instant, he saw a flicker of surprise on Ilay’s face. And then, Taeui realized something.

Ilay hadn’t intended to hit that vulnerable spot. He’d only meant to land a punch on his chest, followed by a slightly off-center hit that would temporarily incapacitate him. What Ilay hadn’t anticipated was Taeui’s quick evasion from the punch aimed at his lower chest. And now, Ilay couldn’t stop his arm that was already moving toward Taeui.

Damn it.

If he’d known this would happen, it would have been better not to dodge at all. At least then, he might have just passed out instead of ending up with the potential need for hospitalization.

Taeui gritted his teeth and braced himself.

But just then——

A low frustrated click of the tongue sounded, and Ilay’s other arm, the one Taeui was holding onto, twisted unexpectedly. In the last fraction of a second, the elbow strike aimed at the weak point on Taeui’s back veered off course and crashed into his shoulder instead.

“…………..!!!!!!!!”

Pain exploded in his shoulder, but he’d narrowly avoided a potentially fatal blow.

He instinctively took a deep breath. The pain was excruciating, as if his shoulder had been crushed.

Yet his heightened tense state of mind pushed the pain aside. Taeui realized that, in this very moment, a chance had presented itself. Right in front of him, Ilay’s side was exposed, unprotected.

“ILAY!!”

Taeui shouted, diving beneath the arm he was clutching, slipping under Ilay’s armpit, and circling around to his back.

In that single moment.

He twisted Ilay’s arm forcefully behind him, as if trying to snap it, while his other arm wrapped tightly around Ilay’s neck. But ‘wrapped’ wasn’t entirely accurate, as in his hand, he gripped a sharp cold blade with a faint blue gleam.

“…….―.”

Taeui found himself gasping. He wasn’t sure if it was from the sheer relief of escaping immediate danger or from the strain and pain wracking his body.

However, in that instant, a wave of confusion flashed through his mind.

Ilay had pulled Taeui out of the path of his own deadly strike. He must have known that doing so would expose a vulnerability in himself, and he was surely aware that Taeui might seize this moment to counterattack.

But, even so.

He had abandoned the attack.

Though Taeui was still breathing heavily, he didn’t dare relax his grip on the knife pressed against Ilay’s neck. His entire body was tense to the extreme.

Perhaps it was this tension that made his mind feel almost out of control, as if his reason was burning up, struggling to break free from restraint. Yes, otherwise he would never have dared to stand so close behind Ilay, holding a knife right at his throat.

“――Stop it, Ilay. That’s enough.”

Below Horgan’s wrist was nothing but crushed flesh now—a mangled mess. And Ilay’s foot still pressed down on it. Left unchecked, he would continue, slowly and mercilessly grinding the life out of him piece by piecn; while Horgan with mouth stuffed, was left unable to beg for mercy or reveal anything that might make Ilay stop.

“…….If you don’t stop, will you use that knife to kill me? Will you really do it?”

Ilay’s voice remained calm. Despite the cold blade pressed against his neck, he showed no trace of fear, as if it were merely a toy. There was even a faint hint of a smirk in his tone.

“…….―.”

Taeui, himself……. didn’t have the courage to do it. He couldn’t bring himself to cut into Ilay’s neck with this knife. Both of them knew that. So, the threat held no weight.

Taeui’s hesitation was the answer.

Even with the blade at his throat, Ilay lifted his foot as if nothing were amiss. And then, without hesitation, he brought his foot down hard on Horgan’s elbow.

*Crack*

The sickening sound of large bones breaking, mixed with the shattering of smaller ones, echoed from under Ilay’s foot—a sound that sent chills through anyone who heard it. A muffled guttural groan came from Horgan’s mouth, which was still stuffed, preventing any clear plea for mercy.

“Ilay, stop it. If you don’t stop――.”

“If I don’t stop, then what?”

His low voice echoed back, carrying an unmistakable, subtle threat.

He was asking again. Would Taeui truly kill him? Could Taeui harm him to make him stop? And did Taeui have the courage to do it, even with a life slowly fading before him, even as he watched a body being crushed into a pulpy mess?

Cold sweat trickled down Taeui’s forehead and slid down his cheek.

This was a one-sided choice. Taeui didn’t even fully understand what that choice was, only that it was a decision he had to make.

“…………..”

His lips moved slightly, but no answer came out. He couldn’t reply. Whether it was ‘I’ll hurt you to stop you’ or’“In the end, I’ll give up and step back’—he couldn’t say either.

Ilay didn’t wait long. After a few seconds of silence, allowing Taeui’s hand to remain on his neck, he glanced downward. Then he lifted his foot once more. This time, his target was Horgan’s shoulder—a spot that could potentially sever the remaining threads of Horgan’s life.

And Taeui was forced to make a choice.

A strained groan escaped through Taeui’s gritted teeth. For a moment, his vision felt as if it were burning. But then…….

“…………..――.”

*Crunch*

A short, heavy sound echoed. It came from a shoulder—from Ilay’s shoulder.

Taeui’s hands had twisted Ilay’s arm back, pulling it tighter and tighter. Ilay’s arm was bent to the limit behind his back, completely dislocating his shoulder.

A metallic clink rang out as the knife slipped from Taeui’s hand, falling to the floor not far away.

“……………”

Taeui slowly released his grip on Ilay’s arm. He stared at Ilay’s now limp, dangling arm, his own face drained of color. His expression was blank, showing no emotion as he gradually took a step back.

Ilay calmly lowered his foot, which had been hovering in midair, down to the floor, and then turned to look at Taeui. His gaze fixed downward, meeting Taeui’s eyes.

Suddenly, he seemed to smile—a smile that looked almost incredulous, perhaps bitter, or even amused. But that twisted and unreadable expression quickly faded, and without any sign of pain, he merely looked down at his shoulder.

Ilay slowly raised his hand, gently rubbing his dislocated shoulder, then glanced at Taeui. His narrow eyes held an unreadable expression—whether a hint of humor or anger, Taeui couldn’t tell. Whatever it was, Taeui remained silent, facing him steadily.

“Instead of aiming that knife at my neck, why didn’t you aim it at your own? Threaten that if I didn’t stop, you’d end your own life.”

Ilay glanced at the knife lying on the floor as he spoke, his voice as slow and deep as ever.

“…….Because I have no intention of harming myself. I don’t make threats I can’t carry out.”

Taeui’s heavy lips parted in a quiet whisper. A brief restrained chuckle escaped from Ilay as he responded, his tone heavier than usual.

“But I’ll stop anyway.”

Ilay took a slow step, turning away from Horgan as if he’d lost interest, then angled his gaze toward Taeui. He looked at Taeui, who still silently met his eyes, and smirked.

“It’s me who’s injured, but it seems like you’re the one in pain.”

“…………..”

“Alright. As you said, let’s stop here. Let’s call it a day.”

Ilay raised his hand casually, his tone indifferent, and then turned to leave the records room. His slow, steady footsteps echoed down the hallway, gradually fading away.

Behind him, Taeui stood motionless, watching Ilay’s figure until it completely disappeared from view.

Finally, when the sound of his footsteps had fully faded, Horgan, still curled up and weakly writhing, slowly lifted his head to look at Taeui. His lips, twisted with fear and pain, moved slightly as he murmured,

Will you betray me? Or will you help me? Whose side are you on?

Taeui read the suspicion and resentment in Horgan’s eyes, and he let out a soft laugh—a laugh on the verge of tears.

For someone like this.

“No way. I simply kept you alive. I protected your life, but not to support your actions. I’ve always been on Ilay’s side.”

How pitiful his voice sounded. A sad and weak voice, as if he might break down and cry at any moment.

Taeui’s lips twisted into a bitter smile.

Then, he lifted his foot and crushed the memory card that had fallen from Horgan’s pocket onto the floor. *Crunch*—the small sound of the tiny device shattering echoed beneath his foot.

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

Without warning, the door burst open, and the eyes of the room’s occupant darted toward it.

Jeong Changin was seated at his desk, typing on the keyboard, looked up in surprise as Taeui entered the room abruptly. With a slight expression of surprise, he hit the save button, seemingly deciding to pause his work, then closed the laptop and removed his glasses, setting them on the desk.

“Taeui, is that you? Showing up unannounced at this hour—what’s going on?”

Changin gestured toward the sofa, inviting him to sit, and glanced at the wall clock. Even if it were midnight, he wouldn’t mind, but it wasn’t so late that this would be considered impolite.

However, since it wasn’t that late, Taeui should typically be with Horgan at this time. Usually, Horgan would just be wrapping up his work around now, letting out a sigh of relief. And Taeui, who seldom left Horgan’s side until he went to bed, had no real reason to be here at this hour.

“Did Horgan turn in early tonight? Or did you have something to help him with? Since you’re already here, if you’re not in a rush, why don’t you stay for a beer?”

Changin stood and walked over to the minibar. He always kept a few beers in the fridge, even though he didn’t usually drink them himself—they were kept for Taeui, who wasn’t picky about which beer he drank.

“Now that you mention it, I think I saw Horgan on his own tonight. Seems like you were a bit later than usual. Nothing happened, right?”

As he spoke, Changin picked up a beer can and a bottle of water, turning around—only to freeze in place and fall silent.

Taeui stood in the middle of the room, tossing something onto the sofa. But it wasn’t just the action that made Changin stop talking. Taeui was silent, his face heavy with a rigid somber expression. His shoulders drooped, as if weighed down by exhaustion.

After staring at Taeui for a moment, Changin’s gaze shifted to the object he had thrown. Though he’d thrown it with force, it landed on a soft pillow, undamaged. It was a small device, slightly smaller than the palm of a hand. Realizing what it was, Changin raised his eyebrows. A data storage drive. The markings on it indicated it was from the main computer system in the records room.

There was blood on the storage drive. And now, as Changin took a closer look, he noticed that Taeui’s clothes were wrinkled and disheveled. It hadn’t been obvious at first because of the dark fabric, but upon closer inspection, his shirt appeared damp with what looked like a deep red stain.

“Are you hurt?”

Changin frowned slightly and asked. Taeui’s lips moved, and he slowly replied.

“No. It’s not me.”

Changin was about to ask: ‘Then who iis’ but the words caught in his throat. Taeui looked like a child—like a child on the verge of tears.

“Horgan is in the medical room. He probably won’t be able to use his right arm for a few months. His arm below the elbow has been completely crushed.”

So Horgan was the one injured. Yet Taeui’s tone as he relayed this information was steady, even somewhat cold, contrasting sharply with the expression on his face.

Changin picked up the storage drive, wiping the blood from it with his thumb.

“You shouldn’t take these things out of the records room without permission. Did Horgan remove it?”

“No, I took it out. If this is so important, they should have locked it up and protected it properly.”

Changin looked at Taeui, who spoke in a quiet, subdued voice. A data drive removed, Horgan in the medical room, and Taeui with a face that looked utterly exhausted.

Changin quickly realized the missing piece is. It was: Riegrow. It was the crucial element needed to connect everything. Yet, instead of bringing it up, he quietly looked at Taeui, who continued speaking.

“They should have hidden it from the start, so no one could touch it, so no one could retrieve any data from it” – Taeui said, his voice growing louder without him seeming to notice. But when he stopped, Changin tapped his finger lightly on the drive he held.

“You know, just taking this one drive won’t change anything. There are plenty of backups.”

“I don’t care. You can deal with the rest however you want—take them out and lock them up, or whatever you think best.”

Taeui’s tone was rigid. It was clear he was intensely angry. But, since he rarely got this angry, he bit his lip and stared at the floor, as if unsure how to handle these emotions.

“I……. I’m furious, Uncle. I knew, right from the start, what this job entailed, and I knew I wouldn’t back out no matter what I’d face. So blaming you now would be absurd. But I still feel angry—at you and at myself.”

“Why did I have to hurt Ilay with my own hands just to save someone like that? Out of all the things I’ve been through, this is one of the top five worst experiences of my life.”

Taeui’s lips twisted slightly as he let out the resentment that had nowhere to go. And now, Changin began to understand the real source of his anger.

Why was Taeui so bitter? Why did he seem so dark and burdened? And what the other pieces of this situation might be.

“Taeui…….”

“Don’t worry, I’m not abandoning the mission,” – Taeui cut off Changin’s attempt to speak. – “Besides, with things as they are, it’s almost over anyway.”

It was clear he didn’t want to hear anything. His gaze fixed on Changin, silently warning that any words now would only fuel his anger further.

Those tired eyes, filled with a quiet resentment, weren’t directed solely at Changin but also, unmistakably, at himself. He was looking inward, confronting his own reflection, weighed down by everything he couldn’t accept.

“At least for tonight, I don’t want to know anything else. Horgan won’t be able to do much in his state, but tonight, I’m going to rest. Even if that data ends up in someone else’s hands, or goes who knows where—for tonight, I just won’t care anymore.”

Taeui’s voice gradually softened. A look of torment crossed his face, as if all his resentment, chaos, and fury – having no outlet – had ultimately turned back inward.

“…….Taeui…….”

“Get some rest, Uncle. I only came here to vent……. Though the one I should truly be angry with is myself.”

His words dripped with bitterness. Changin called his name one last time as Taeui turned away, shoulders heavy with fatigue. But Taeui didn’t look back. His figure, seeming smaller than usual, disappeared as the door quietly closed behind him.