Chapter 6: The Summoning’s Aftermath

Summoning felt akin to a scene change in a film or drama. In the blink of an eye, he found himself in a completely different location. The company lobby, once bathed in the bright midday sun, had vanished, replaced by the soft glow of a fading sunset. Bathed in the crimson light of the setting sun, the pale man’s complexion seemed to gain a touch of warmth. Their eyes met.

It was the man, Lee Doha’s contractor, Siohan Orphenos, whom he hadn’t seen in five days. Siohan offered a somewhat awkward smile.

“…Was my contractor a thief?”

“…”

“I don’t know what you were stealing, but if you were escaping, I could have helped—”

“No.”

‘No.’ The word sounded incredibly pathetic. Siohan’s knowing expression didn’t convey much belief, despite his quiet acknowledgment. This absurd misunderstanding had arisen because Lee Doha was bundled up like a common thief, with a mask and a hat.

To make matters worse, even his overcoat was black, completing a perfectly suspicious trio of dark attire.

“Damn it,” Lee Doha muttered, yanking off his hat and mask. Siohan’s gaze shifted subtly. That truly strange gaze—a mix of joy, complexity, and perhaps a hint of regret—settled on the corner of Lee Doha’s right eye.

“…Oh, dear.”

Yet, like the fleeting twilight that fades in a blink, that expression quickly vanished, replaced by a spark of mischief. If anyone had reacted with such a remark upon seeing the stark black letters etched like a tattoo beneath his right eye, Lee Doha would have been utterly mortified.

For the very person who had inscribed the contract name in such an unfortunate spot to remark on it with such dismay, it ignited a surge of both shame and indignation within Lee Doha.

“‘Oh, dear’? ‘Oh, deaaar’?”

“Ugh…”

Lee Doha, who had resigned himself to ‘whatever happens, happens’ even when summoned from his father’s company with a lunchbox in hand, his bewildered face exposed to the entire world, finally seized Siohan by the collar. As he shook him, Siohan swayed limply, like a broken-necked doll.

“I’m dizzy,” Siohan mumbled, his eyes closed. He offered no resistance. Lee Doha began to loosen his grip. Siohan’s complexion was unnervingly pale, even for someone inherently fair-skinned. His shaking body seemed utterly devoid of strength.

Though a solid punch to the face would have been immensely satisfying, he couldn’t very well waste a life he’d saved by draining his own blood, especially after forming a contract.

Moreover, now that he was thinking somewhat clearly, he could understand the absurd praise about Siohan being a ‘miracle incarnate.’ Looking at a face that seemed sculpted from the most perfect curves, he felt a strange reluctance to lay a hand on it. Just as Lee Doha was about to release him, his mind a peculiar tangle of annoyance and regret, a chill blade suddenly pressed against his jaw.

“…Let go,” a cold voice ground out, heavy with fury. Lee Doha was surprised for a brief moment, then utterly dumbfounded. It felt strangely familiar, which only deepened his bewilderment. He had intended to let go initially, but having a blade pressed to his throat, accompanied by such an absurd threat from Siohan’s perspective, made him stubbornly resist.

Lee Doha’s gaze flickered, following the glint of the cold steel. Siohan lay prone, and Lee Doha, having been summoned, was seated atop him. Neither Siohan nor Lee Doha seemed to care about their peculiar position, though it certainly looked odd to an outside observer.

Depending on the viewer, it could appear threatening, or perhaps terribly awkward and intimate. At least, to the man wielding the sword, it clearly seemed threatening.

“If I don’t let go—”

Lee Doha pulled Siohan closer, cradling the back of his neck. Siohan, perhaps truly dizzy, remained silent with his eyes closed. He had completely relaxed, leaning into Lee Doha’s hold. His head lolled, resting against Lee Doha’s shoulder.

His golden, silken hair, usually worn loose, cascaded over Lee Doha’s chest. Siohan appeared to have fainted, and it must have looked that way to the swordsman as well. A grinding sound of teeth clenching echoed. To put it elegantly, he was utterly enraged; to put it plainly, he looked as if he was about to completely lose his mind.

“How dare you…! Let him go!”

“And if I don’t? Will you chop off his head? What would happen to this man then?”

This was pure spite. Having been exposed in the company lobby for all to see, and feeling deeply embarrassed and ashamed by the contract name etched beneath his eye, Lee Doha was in a truly perverse mood. Despite his efforts to remain composed, having someone suddenly press a sword to his throat, threaten him, and shout in fury made him want to act like a petulant child.

Still holding Siohan, he shifted his gaze slightly. The cold blade grazed his chin. Standing in the now-darkened night was a knight clad in simple, jet-black armor. A knight, yes. Anyone would recognize him as such.

His jaw was rigid, so tightly clenched were his teeth, and his pale brown eyes glared at Lee Doha as if ready to plunge the sword into him at any moment. Lee Doha let out a small laugh.

“Put that sword away.”

“This is your final warning. If you don’t release him—”

“I said, put it away.”

A strange, cerulean light shimmered in Lee Doha’s eyes, spreading to cover his dark irises like a burgeoning glow. The swordsman’s blade began to vibrate, emitting a ringing sound like tinnitus. The man’s eyes widened. He seemed to try to move the sword, but the fixed blade remained immobile.

With a resonant hum that vibrated in one’s head, the sword trembled like an aspen, then abruptly stopped—and with a deafening clang, it shattered into hundreds of fragments. Hundreds of shattered blade fragments hung suspended in mid-air.

Like stars scattered in the darkness, the fragments each reflected a faint, chilling light. Every tiny piece was aimed directly at the swordsman. The horrified man’s mouth fell open.

“It’s mine anyway, so why are you telling me to let go or not?”

The man’s mouth gaped slightly. His fury had vanished, replaced by sheer astonishment. His silly, dumbfounded expression somewhat quelled Lee Doha’s pique. Just as he was about to smirk, a hand gently rested on his shoulder. A small cough broke the silence. It was Siohan.

“…Enough.”

Lee Doha blinked. The strange blue light in his eyes extinguished, leaving them black once more. The oppressive resonance that had filled the space instantly dissipated. The suspended blade fragments clattered to the ground, creating a noisy cascade.

Lee Doha felt his heart plummet. His mood sank instantly. He reached out and swept Siohan’s cascading hair back from his chest, behind his shoulders. Siohan was wiping his mouth. A distinct smear of blood stained his sleeve. Lee Doha was utterly speechless.

“What…”

“Hwairam.”

It was a name Lee Doha had never heard before. As the party to the contract, he had naturally been able to read the name in a mirror, but this was the first time Siohan, his contractor, had spoken it aloud. Lee Doha was seized by a strange, inexplicable emotion. He couldn’t quite identify the feeling, but his mind went blank.

“Next time, try summoning me a little sooner.”

“…”

“Then… try not to use your power. I’m still overwhelmed by you…”

Looking up at him with golden eyes, now softened to a warm, honeyed glow in the dimness, Siohan offered a faint smile.

“I wish to see you for a little longer.”

Then, the surroundings brightened. The warmth that had seemed to carry a slight fever vanished, leaving only a hollow breeze caressing his fingertips. The soft bed disappeared. Lee Doha stood in the familiar lobby. A murmur rippled through the gathered crowd like a wave, and countless phone screens were pointed at him. His father stood there, holding a lunchbox, staring at him in bewilderment.

“Doha?”

Stunned, Lee Doha merely blinked. He raised a hand. Staring blankly first at his palm, then at his father, and then back at his palm, Lee Doha muttered, lost in thought:

“…What in the world is happening?”

“What in the world is happening?”

Kim Yoon-hye thrust her phone screen forward. A cascade of news headlines, each more sensational than the last, scrolled across the screen:

Only a couple of genuinely useful articles, like withered bean sprouts, were interspersed among them, discussing the risks of civilians getting caught in reverse summons and summons, or the principles behind reverse summoning.

“Mr. Lee Doha, you’re actually an attention-seeker, aren’t you? You say you find it annoying and dislike it, but deep down, you’re enjoying it, aren’t you?”

Lee Doha, his mind elsewhere, paid no attention. He was sprawled on the sofa, clutching a thick whale-shaped plushie. Kim Yoon-hye, seated in a plush armchair opposite him, sipped her coffee.

“Ms. Kim Yoon-hye. You said you don’t know the difference between a Covenant and a regular contract, right? Write this down. It seems like a second ego is forming.”

“Why? Did meeting your contractor suddenly make love and affection well up inside you?”

Lee Doha’s eyes widened in surprise, and his mouth fell open. He looked genuinely shocked. Kim Yoon-hye burst into laughter.

“Oh, really? Tell me, what did you do? Did you, like, hug them?”

“…You, shouldn’t you be out there setting up a fortune-telling stall? What are you doing here?”

“You actually hugged them? Well, that’s pretty mild.”

“…No.”

‘No.’ Having said it, Lee Doha clamped his mouth shut, feeling incredibly pathetic. Over the past two days, memories of that moment kept resurfacing. Whenever a memory ambushed him, Lee Doha couldn’t bear it and had to kick his blankets, punch a wall, or hit something, anything. This morning, while eating breakfast, he had suddenly slammed his knee into the table, sending water and side dishes spilling everywhere. The fierce smack he’d received on his back for it still ached.

If he were to try and explain, recalling those popcorn-like memories, it wasn’t really a hug. He had merely grabbed Siohan by the collar and pulled. It was more like his contractor, Siohan, had simply collapsed onto him due to a complete lack of strength in his body. However, explaining it in such detail would only make his already pathetic situation even more so.