By Zephyria 
Because the words were somewhat indirect, Tae-un didn’t seem to understand immediately; he merely blinked his eyebrows before letting out an “Ah,” his eyes narrowing into thin slits. His reaction was remarkably casual, making the nervousness Kim Si-baek had felt while asking seem pointless.
Tae-un plopped his backside down on the long sofa next to Kim Si-baek.
“I told you my shelter was Jae-woo University, right?”
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t move to Jae-woo University immediately; I hid in an orphanage for about two or three weeks. I hadn’t adjusted to the surroundings yet, and there were plenty of food supplies left.”
At that time, Tae-un had personally witnessed Kim Si-baek vanish into the gap of the rift. Immediately afterward, magical beasts appeared from the sky and the earth, yet there was no sign of Kim Si-baek anywhere.
“Back then, I had a vague premonition. That maybe… Hyung had simply ceased to exist in this place.”
After adapting to his suddenly awakened powers, repelling the magical beasts, and establishing a primitive defense system at the orphanage, Tae-un immediately scoured through photo albums. To get help in searching for Kim Si-baek, and perhaps, to remember the Kim Si-baek who might have disappeared.
What he found there was a Kim Si-baek who had vanished without a trace.
Tae-un tapped his chin, continuing his words slowly.
“Since I saw the photos where Hyung had disappeared first, I had time to process the shock. I thought that maybe it wasn’t just that Hyung was gone, but that his very existence had been erased.”
“…….”
“If I had spent my time wailing and searching for friends or family outside like the other kids, it would have remained a vivid memory. Something hard to forget even after twenty years.”
With that, he beamed a smile.
“But Hyung, you don’t even remember a random question asked during a meal after just a few days, right?”
“……That’s true.”
“That’s how it was for me, too.”
Chewing over Tae-un’s words in silence, Kim Si-baek smiled faintly.
“I brought up a pointless topic and made you recall bad memories. Sorry.”
His explanation—or rather, his answer—was understandable. Kim Si-baek decided to accept it that way. Above all…
“It’s better to clear the air if something feels unsettling. There isn’t much time left before Hyung has to go back, so spending it on other thoughts would be a waste of time.”
…As he said, since he didn’t know how much time was left, it would be more than enough just to be faithful to the time spent with him.
Kim Si-baek silently shifted his gaze. Thanks to consistent purification, the traces of magical energy that had once extended beyond the collar of his shirt had largely disappeared. The marks, which looked like a cross between veins and tattoos, now flowed near his collarbone instead of his cheeks, and his once pitch-black left hand was now mottled.
His goal was to complete the purification before the quest ended. That was the only thing that mattered. He decided to discard unnecessary thoughts.
Noticing where the gaze landed, the corners of Tae-un’s mouth loosened.
“Hyung, you know Pavlov’s dog, right?”
“What was that again?”
“The experiment where they rang a bell every time they fed the dog, so eventually, the dog would salivate just by hearing the bell. I feel like that lately.”
Kim Si-baek wondered if there was something repeated during their meals, but before he could think, a soft kiss landed on his ear.
Unlike the lips that brushed his earlobe as softly as a flower petal, the voice that flowed in low was drenched in a subtle heat. As if felt not just through the eardrums and cochlea but through the skin, the texture of the skin where the low voice lingered trembled. The reaction the dog showed in Pavlov’s experiment likely wasn’t unique to Tae-un.
“Every time I feel Hyung’s gaze on my neck or left hand, I get aroused.”
“……You’re probably not the only one.”
Tae-un, who didn’t hear the quiet answer that barely moved the lips, lowered his head. In response to the body language asking him to say it again, Kim Si-baek answered by overlapping their lips.
Tae-un’s lips, which had hesitated for a moment, opened softly, and their tongues entwined without knowing who started first. Just like that first night they shared tongues, Tae-un’s kisses always began urgently. Only after the process of sharing warmth, mixing saliva, and intertwining tongues to confirm each other’s presence did he begin to savor the act of kissing.
The movements, which had been hasty enough for their teeth to clash slightly, deepened into something dense. The intensity of swirling around the hot, red flesh and probing deep into the throat was familiar. To him, and to himself.
“Phew…”
The tongue, which had been storming without giving him a moment to catch his breath, barely pulled away while licking the skin inside the oral cavity. The heated, undulating air rushed into his mouth, and then their red tongues tangled in the air again, as if Tae-un found even the brief moment of overlapping lips to be a waste. And once more, they clung to each other urgently with feverish breaths.
What mixed inside the mouth were tongues, wet breaths, sticky saliva, and a shared longing. Amidst a consciousness blurring with heat, Kim Si-baek suddenly thought: How many more times can I share warmth with this boy? How many days and nights do we have left?
The fingers that had been stroking his back slid down smoothly to fumble with his waist. While the kisses that bit and sucked the lower lip continued toward the jawline and neck, Kim Si-baek’s head naturally tilted back and touched the sofa pad. Lying on the sofa, Kim Si-baek’s gaze took in Tae-un. It was the familiar face of a boy seen beneath an unfamiliar ceiling.
As he touched his left cheek, where a scar remained that even he could not heal, Tae-un smiled beautifully and enveloped his hand.
At the end of the kisses that landed one by one on his palm, a rough tongue licked long, as if scratching his lifeline. Just as a low moan was about to escape from that sticky heat, the sound of splashing water was heard from the bathroom.
“……!”
It was Biyendwe. As Kim Si-baek quickly regained his sense of reality, Tae-un sighed and buried his face in his shoulder.
“I’ve never even done anything to create a child, but I already feel like I have one.”
Kim Si-baek also swallowed a bitter smile and patted his back.
“It’s practically like being on a business trip for work, so even if it’s free time, doing ‘something else,’ hmm, is that a bit much?”
“Ah, I want to go home already…”
Tae-un muttered complainingly and nibbled on the nape of Kim Si-baek’s neck. He bit and sucked hard enough for the skin to tingle, quickly leaving a reddish mark on the nape. Only then, with a somewhat satisfied look, Tae-un licked the flushed skin with his tongue.
“Before this mark disappears, let’s go home and do that ‘something else’ Hyung mentioned.”
“……Yeah.”
Exhaling a languid breath steeped in uncooled heat, he hugged the firm back. He wanted to go back.
To Tae-un’s home.
✽ ✽ ✽
The next day, the hunters moved to Kaesong. Upon arriving in Kaesong after two hours, the entire city felt like Zone 0 outside the barrier. It was a unique vibrancy that hadn’t been seen in Korea, let alone in Mak Slecht.
Half were tourists and ordinary residents, and the other half appeared to be hunters or people in related professions. The languages heard everywhere were diverse. There were not only Koreans but also quite a few Russians, Japanese, and Chinese. They were all hunters here to hunt in the Kaesong field.
“The number of hunters has probably decreased quite a bit because access was restricted to cull the magical beasts in the southern field of Kaesong. Since it’s close to Pyongyang, it’s developing into a kind of forward base for field hunting.”
Upon arriving at the lodging, hunters from the Supernatural Phenomenon Response Agency came to greet them. Since they had to fill the void left by the core forces of the large guilds, only a small number of Agency hunters had been dispatched to Kaesong.
The person in charge of leading the dragonfish raid team—consisting of the 7777 Guild, the Tobazhush Hussars Guild, and the Gabyeolcho Guild—was, of course, Gwak Yun-sang.
“I haven’t seen Section Chief Gwak around much lately.”
At Seo Gae-un’s greeting, Gwak Yun-sang laughed affably.
“Am I not the dedicated secretary for Hunter Kim Si-baek, personally guaranteed by our Agency Head?”
The hunters brushed it off as a light joke, but Gwak Yun-sang was 120 percent serious. After arriving at the lodging and unpacking, the Guild Masters and attack squad leaders gathered one by one in the meeting room.
Kim Si-baek, who was neither a Guild Master nor an attack squad leader, intended to rest in his room, but Gwak Yun-sang had already prepared a seat next to Tae-un for the person holding the leash. Since no one objected to his joining, Kim Si-baek attended the meeting by default.
Soon, employees from the Field Management Division entered the meeting room carrying stacks of documents.
“Sorry we’re late!”
Perhaps having analyzed until the very last moment, they bowed repeatedly and quickly distributed the fresh printouts. Then, one of them stood at the podium to give a briefing.
“Hello. I am Gu Yeong-min from the Field Analysis Division.”