Chapter 55: The Ghost of the Past

Sagyeol reconsidered his patience.

He had spent a grueling twenty years delving into the heart of the flood and searching for a returnee, only to find himself unable to wait. Merely hearing Yeowon’s location had driven him to the café’s immediate vicinity.

His fingers, gripping the steering wheel, tapped restlessly against its rim.

Fearing he might be noticed, Sagyeol had moved his parked car several times. Each time, he failed to realize he was creeping closer and closer to the café.

For the past two years, he had thought about it every single day. What would he do if he ever met Yeowon again?

Initially, he had resolved to treat Yeowon with unwavering kindness. Believing Yeowon was someone whose outward appearance belied his true nature, Sagyeol thought feigning pity would compel him to stay.

Regret soon twisted into a simmering rage. Yeowon had departed without a single backward glance, proving Sagyeol had meant so little to him. How could he have done that? Sagyeol, meanwhile, was suffering so intensely, searching for him with such heartbreaking desperation.

The fury blinded Sagyeol, corrupting his very thoughts.

From a certain point, his daily life became consumed with fantasies of how he would imprison and violate Yeowon.

In his imagination, Yeowon always wallowed in the mire, squirming beneath Sagyeol as he desperately tried to endure the pain and arousal inflicted upon him.

In the end, Yeowon would inevitably break, his tattered body clinging to Sagyeol’s ankles, pleading. ‘Please, don’t abandon me,’ he would beg. ‘Please, stay with me.’

Sagyeol failed to notice that something was profoundly wrong. He believed he no longer loved Yeowon. This was merely… refined desire. All that remained within his ribcage were ashes and dregs.

jingle.

The café door opened, and someone emerged. It wasn’t a customer. Though the person wore a hat and mask, Sagyeol couldn’t mistake them. It was Yeowon. Sagyeol’s breath caught in his throat, and he instinctively hunched his massive frame. He completely forgot that every car he drove had intensely dark tinted windows.

Yeowon headed towards a nearby supermarket. Sagyeol, creeping his car forward, accelerated like a racer once Yeowon disappeared from sight, pulling into the supermarket parking lot. He cut the engine, shoved his hands into his coat pockets, and felt a mask.

Lee Hyun-su must have put it there. Sagyeol, who usually concocted endless excuses to avoid wearing one, now hooked the mask straps over his ears with surprising naturalness. Stepping out of the car, he immediately descended to the basement.

Yeowon had come to the supermarket during his shift at the café. The answer had to be the food section. He was undoubtedly here to buy groceries, perhaps eggs for sandwiches or milk for coffee.

Sagyeol practically sprinted down the escalator. The food section was teeming with people.

‘A hat and a mask. A hat and a mask.’

Constantly scanning his surroundings, he soon spotted Yeowon standing in front of the dairy aisle. Sagyeol found himself unable to approach further, yet equally unable to tear his eyes away. For a moment, he even forgot why he was there.

Just as Sagyeol had turned twenty-nine this year, Yeowon had now reached thirty.

Yet, the man seemed unchanged. As if perfectly preserved two years prior, everything from his appearance to his aura remained exactly the same.

No, something *had* changed. Sagyeol realized it belatedly. Yeowon had cut his bangs short, no longer letting them fall to the tip of his nose. His calm, almost inorganic eyes were now fully exposed.

Sagyeol watched Yeowon for a long time, holding milk in both hands and seemingly deep in thought. It was much later that his attire registered. On such a cold day, Yeowon wore only a white shirt, no outer layer. He stood out starkly among the long padded coats of those milling about.

‘Why did he come out dressed like that? What if he catches a cold?’

Sagyeol’s brow furrowed.

‘Why is it so cold in here? Are they not running the heating? What kind of supermarket is this?’

The indoor air was warm, and the thermometer indicated 22 degrees Celsius. Given the weather outside, where lake surfaces were freezing, this was perfectly adequate. Yet, it failed to satisfy Sagyeol.

Then, Yeowon, still pondering, bent slightly at the waist. His shirt pulled taut, clearly revealing the musculature of his back.

Sagyeol unconsciously swallowed, taking a few more steps in Yeowon’s direction.

As if a decision had been made, Yeowon chose his milk. His bent back straightened, standing as erect as a pillar of steel. The only curve along it was the subtle indentation of his waist. Sagyeol found himself unable to tear his gaze from that shallow valley.

He knew that back was more flexible than it appeared. When Yeowon bent deeply, the muscles in his sides would loosen in tandem; when he tensed abruptly, the abdominal muscles would ripple distinctly.

The body he had held in the airship had twitched rhythmically, like a music box crafted by a master artisan. From his lips had come sounds that grated on the peripheral nerves.

Sagyeol’s patience reached its absolute limit.

He moved towards Yeowon. Midway, their eyes finally met. The eyes, visible between the black mask and hat, slowly widened.

“…!”

Sagyeol harbored a glimmer of hope, a faint expectation.

Perhaps Yeowon had missed him too. Perhaps there had been an unavoidable reason for his departure. Whatever it was, wasn’t it possible he regretted it now?

Thump.

This was his answer. A milk carton had fallen to the floor and burst. Where the white liquid pooled, Yeowon was already gone. Sagyeol watched him sprint away, yet remained unmoving.

Clang!

The café door burst open violently. The bell above it shrieked. Startled, everyone’s gazes converged. Upon recognizing the figure, Dongjun’s eyes widened even further.

“What is it? What happened?”

Yeowon panted, offering no reply. He had gone out without a coat in this weather, and now he was drenched in sweat upon his return. Had he encountered a street robber in broad daylight?

Dongjun’s heart sank at the thought.

He started to move past Yeowon, intending to go outside. Yeowon snatched Dongjun’s wrist, gripping it tightly and shaking his head, which only solidified Dongjun’s conviction that a robbery had occurred.

“It’s fine. He won’t follow me here.”

Yeowon flinched, his pupils trembling faintly. The man, despite his powerful physique, was visibly agitated. It was more pitiful than unsightly. This was a severe case. Dongjun hid a wry smile.

“For now, go into the back room. I’ll bring you a warm milk tea. You should rest and calm down.”

Normally, Yeowon would have declined, insisting he was fine, but he merely nodded. He must have been truly shaken.

As pity intensified, Dongjun’s anger flared, wondering which lunatic dared to commit robbery in the city center in broad daylight.

Dongjun fumed as he prepared the milk tea. His hands, which had been moving smoothly, hesitated belatedly.

He reconsidered his initial thoughts. This was a city of Hunters. Figuratively speaking, if you stopped people on the street, two out of three would be Hunters. Consequently, the crime rate was low. Most crimes were impulsive and perpetrators were apprehended without significant harm.

‘Was the robber a Hunter too?’

Even so, it was equally strange. While the defense squad members were typically C to D-rank, the captain was always an A-rank Hunter. This was precisely to prevent Hunter-on-civilian crimes, as Dongjun had considered.

The system was designed so that lower-ranked Hunters could be subdued by a single defense squad, while higher-ranked Hunters would be confronted by a gathering of squad captains.

Even an S-rank Hunter could be dealt with by simply requesting support from the Guild Masters. Those with loved ones in Grisha were unforgiving of troublemakers. While everyone was currently preoccupied with the flood, remaining quiet for now, it was unlikely that anyone audacious enough to provoke a seemingly docile beast still existed.

More importantly, regardless of any threat from a Hunter, Yeowon’s personality simply didn’t align with being so terrified. The Yeowon Dongjun knew was a deep, tranquil blue hole. He would swallow anything thrown at him, unmoved by even the fiercest storms.

‘Then what could it have been?’

Perhaps it was because he couldn’t even guess what Yeowon had truly encountered.

Dongjun felt an inexplicable unease. Yet, he couldn’t show it. There was someone else who was far more anxious than he was right now.

“Are you feeling any better?”

Thankfully, Yeowon seemed to have returned to his usual self.

Slowly, Yeowon lifted his head and nodded. As Dongjun handed him the milk tea, something nagged at him. It felt like belatedly realizing his sweater had snagged on a protruding latch.

Receiving the mug, Yeowon cupped it with both hands and lowered his head again. He offered no words.

This was not his usual demeanor. It was as if Dongjun was seeing the Yeowon from two years ago. Dongjun unconsciously squeezed Yeowon’s shoulder.

“No, you’re not. Why are you lying?”

“…”

Yeowon’s firm lips pressed into a thin line. He replied slowly.

“I’m fine.”

His gaze remained fixed downwards, his dry eyes staring at the steaming surface of the milk tea.

Dongjun realized he had made a grave mistake. This was not the expression of someone who had simply encountered a robber. A mere robber wouldn’t have shaken Yeowon to such an extent.

Though Dongjun had feigned composure in front of Yeowon since their first meeting, having been considerably surprised by how similar Yeowon felt to himself, he now easily understood. What Yeowon had confronted was his past.

Dongjun’s heart plummeted. The image of Yeowon, looking like a discarded rag, walking down a snowy country road, flashed through his mind.

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