A/N: Starting now, I will be updating twice a week with slightly longer chapters. Update days are Wednesday and Saturday CT. I might switch to three times a week later on if it seems sustainable. Last few days were full of internet problems, so I apologize for that.
Min-jun awoke to the sound of the doors to their room sliding open. In the slit of the door, the man from before stood with a solemn expression, head low, watching him. Heart pounding, Min-jun shot up in the bed. The man jumped and shut the door with a quiet thump. His feet struck the wooden floors as he ran, like a soul fearing for its life.
Had he . . . had he been watching them sleep? The damned little pervert.
Wait.
Min-jun glanced behind himself, noting the absence of his bedfellow. He touched the spot beside him. Not a trace of warmth lingered there. The King must’ve left long ago. And now that man had ventured outside of his prison cell. It felt too convenient to be a coincidence.
Min-jun tied his hair up into a quick ponytail and shrugged on his coat. Then he ran out into the hallway. At his feet, there was a note stuck under a pebble. With a sigh, he bent down to pick it up.
“My darling,
I am aware you probably have no desire to see me right now. A man has helped me escape from the prison and is planning to lead me out of the city through the forest. My absence might reflect badly on my family, so I must ask you to defend them should the King turn his wrath toward them.
Sincerely,
Wook Sanhae”
It didn’t take long for Min-jun to piece together what had happened. After all that stupid man had spewed, the King had probably gotten curious about where the information came from. How much did that fool know? Min-jun had no way of knowing either way.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
He let out a quiet groan, running a hand through his hair. Foolish King waking up in the middle of the night to go interrogate people. Was getting a good night’s sleep too much to ask for?
No matter. He’d just have to follow the man (Sanhae, was it?) to the forest and stop the questioning before it could get any further.
Slipping on his shoes, he carried his sleep-deprived body away from their apartment building and into the streets. As expected, there was not a trace of Sanhae here, so Min-jun took his own path to the forest, between alleyways and gated houses. Shortcuts were plentiful in this maze of a city, and Min-jun had memorized each one long ago for various purposes.
. . .
The forest was as thick and labyrinthine as he remembered it, a fitting accompaniment to Wolgwang City. Up above, a waxing gibbous peeked out from behind the clouds. Right, the moon festival would be tomorrow, celebrating the autumn moon. It also meant all of the good alcohol would be brought out into the open. Oh, how wonderful it was to be a free man, capable of drinking himself silly. He could use a drink right now.
No, he had to focus. Entering the forest like this would be dangerous. The place was likely crawling with animals. Leopards, wild boars, bears, ready to shred a beautiful man like him limb from limb. That would just be a shame.
He raised the lantern in his hand, urging it to illuminate more of his path. The King had probably taken the man deeper into the forest, where his screams would be muffled and unintelligible. Any random passerby would think he’d been mauled by an animal. Well, the King certainly was a different type of beast.
A harrowing sound made him pause. For a moment, he wasn’t sure the poor thing was even human. But then it screamed again and he could hear something distinctly human in its pain. He raced toward the sound, like an abandoned gwisin, a specter screaming for aid from the land of the living. Jumping over roots and fallen trees, he ran to where the specter seemed to be. Once or twice, he ended up in the wrong spot, the trees creating a sort of echo chamber. All he could do was run and hope that no prowling carnivores would suddenly jump out at him. Min-jun followed the shrieking until it was just beyond a grove of pines. He slowed down to a creeping walk, peeking around the trunk of a large, fragrant pine tree. The scene unfolding before him was enough to drag him out from his hiding spot.
It was Min-jun’s turn to shriek.
“What are you doing?” Strangely, as he passed Sanhae and marched up to the King, he felt no fear, just seething anger. Sanhae stayed on the ground, gasping for breath, bleeding from the wounds where the vines had sunk into the skin. They forced him into a kneeling position, holding him there. What a mess they’d made. Well, as much as Min-jun disliked Sanhae, he couldn’t let the idiot die.
“Huibin –” Cheol’s eyes had glazed over, empty, emotionless. Well, Min-jun was having none of this nonsense.
“Oh, now you’re using my title?” Min-jun flipped his hair back over his shoulder. “What has he told you?” The King said not a word, his expression cold. Min-jun looked back at Sanhae. “What have you told him?” Ah, Sanhae was in no condition to reply. “Nevermind.”
“Are you not afraid?” the King asked, and the question struck Min-jun as sudden, inexplicable.
“Afraid? Of you?” Min-jun crossed his arms. “I’ve known you were a monster since before we met. What would being afraid do?”
The King parted his lips, but nothing came out, so he stood there, gaping at Min-jun. He looked nothing like the beast who had been twisting Sanhae’s body into a bloody mess a few moments ago.
“Anyway, you need to let him go,” Min-jun said. “He’ll serve his time in prison. I’m not about to let him get a free pass and die.”
The King considered, his eyes rolling to the sky, as if he was checking for the answer in the heavens. “Hmm, no.”
“Why not?”
“He knows about my Gift now,” the King replied. “I can’t let him live.”
“He’s not going to say anything.” Min-jun pointed at Sanhae, who managed to shake his head in agreement. “He’s terrified of you.”
“There are ways to get around a man’s heart and bring out the truth.”
Min-jun stiffened, remembering the intense desire to reveal anything his clients might want to know. The symptoms mirrored that of withdrawal symptoms: chills, nausea, muscle cramps, fever. Even worse were the hallucinations. They lasted until you were given the antidote by their captor. Sanhae wouldn’t last long before he broke and told them everything.
“You seem to understand.”
“What can they really do, knowing you have such great power?” Min-jun asked.
The King didn’t answer, his lips pulled into a neutral frown. They could do something then. Something bad enough that the King didn’t dare tell him, even though so much has already been revealed.
“Why have you kept me alive then?” Min-jun hissed, stepping closer.
“Because killing you would be a shame. I’d rather keep you by my side.” He looked over Min-jun’s shoulder, toward the struggling Sanhae. “I cannot say the same for that man.”
Min-jun snorted. “That’s exactly the sort of answer I’d expect from someone as low as you.”
The King did nothing to react to his statement. Not even that little infuriating smile he put on whenever Min-jun tried to rile him up. Instead, Min-jun could only see the vestiges of anger on his face, a slight furrow in his brow, a sharpness in his eyes. And though Min-jun knew it was a ridiculous question, he asked it.
“Why did you go to all this trouble?” He glanced back at Sanhae, who had fallen unconscious by now. At this rate, he’d bleed out before he could be saved. “This seems a bit excessive.”
“How so? Did he not hurt you?”
Hurt him? “Oh, that. I’ve heard worse. People can get nasty in the brothel houses. What, do you want to go out and wring their necks as well?”
“Do you have their names?”
Min-jun rolled his eyes. “Funny.”
“You want to save him?” the King asked, his eyes half-lidded as he gazed down at him. It made Min-jun feel smaller than he was, and his fear caught up to him, growing in his chest.
“What do you want?”
“Information. About your leader. If you answer all of my questions, I’ll let him go. I’ll even get a doctor to see to his wounds, though I’m afraid at this rate, he’ll be permanently disfigured and disabled. But alive, as you wish him to be.” The King tilted his head to the side. “So, what will it be, my consort?”
Oooh, dang. What’cha gonna do, Min-jun?