#25

Lukai cared more about Wei Chen’s safety than some miracle drug that turned humans into monsters.
He couldn’t care less about the astronomical amounts of money riding on Nexus.
Not a single cent of it came from his own pocket. And if, by chance, everything went up in flames and the organization collapsed, well—he believed the right people could always regroup and start anew.

It was the kind of thinking only a twenty-year-old could have.
Naïve. Bold. Reckless.
His lack of experience with the harshness of the world gave him a courage bordering on foolishness.

“There’s… nothing wrong, right?”

But reuniting a scattered organization was only possible when there was a leader strong enough to hold it together.
And in that sense, Wei Chen was ideal.
Unofficially recognized as the second-in-command, he had already earned the trust—and awe—of many.

The real problem was what would happen if things went wrong.
If anyone could snap and bash Wei Chen’s head in, it was Zhang Lihan.
That fear simmered through the ranks, and the whole organization had been holding its breath, anxiously waiting for news of Wei Chen.

Unlike the deeply worried Lukai, Wei Chen looked completely unconcerned—like none of this involved him at all.

“If something goes wrong, just walk away. Go to college. And stop throwing your entire paycheck into your house fund.”

“What’s the point of school? Waste of time and money.”

Lukai pouted, pushing back immediately.
Maybe it was because Wei Chen had watched him grow up—but even now, as an adult, it felt like he was still being treated like a snot-nosed kid.

“I only hire people with degrees.”

Lukai froze for a second, then shot back,

“…But you dropped out in elementary school.”

In the next instant, Wei Chen’s hand came down like lightning, grabbing Lukai’s round buzzcut like a bowling ball.
Lukai yelped and squirmed as the grip tightened.

“Ah—ahhh! I’m sorry! I messed up! I’m sorry, boss!”

Only when his eyes welled up did Wei Chen let go.
Lukai groaned and clutched his aching temple.
Wei Chen simply said, “See you,” and climbed into his car.

Lukai watched the car vanish into the distance, then slowly turned and went back up to the office.

As soon as he walked in, people swarmed around him like they’d been waiting.

“Lukai, how do you know that guy? Tell us something! They say he’s an exec, but there’s no info on him. What branch is he from?”

“He’s got serious presence. I can’t believe someone like that works here.”

“He’s hotter than our cruise campaign model.”

The office buzzed with excitement.
Surrounded by colleagues gushing over Wei Chen’s name, Lukai watched them with a subtly hardened expression.

Someone nudged his arm and asked,

“Come on, Lukai, you know something, don’t you? Spill it.”

Lukai gave a strained smile and muttered, “We’re not that close.”
He didn’t answer any more questions after that.

Instead, he turned away with a deep sigh.

Is he really going to be okay?

Outside the window, the roads were clogged with cars.
The man who had pulled him out of a dark, blood-scented pit reeking of rotting flesh—
that man was Wei Chen.

Wei Chen had scoffed at him, told him to get smarter, then had quietly arranged to transfer him to Baekwoon HQ.
Lukai knew now—it was his way of protecting him.

As the youngest in the group, Lukai had often hung out with Xiangyun, who was closer to his age.
And through that, he’d come to learn bits and pieces of the brothers’ personal story.

Wei Chen and Xiangyun were orphans.

No—they chose to become orphans.
After enduring their father’s abuse for years, Wei Chen ran away with his baby brother when he realized the beatings were about to fall on him too.
The kid couldn’t even walk yet.

They lived in a leaky tin shack, depending on each other for survival.
Despite the hunger and cold, Wei Chen took on the role of both parent and protector.
He’d long since given up on his own dreams, pouring everything into getting Xiangyun out of the slums.

Then Baekwoon started recruiting human test subjects from the slums—secretly.

Watching Wei Chen constantly out earning money on his own, Xiangyun had grown desperate to contribute.

“Number 113, 114, 115, 116!”

When those numbers were called, Xiangyun lined up and walked into the lab.
He had joined the trial behind Wei Chen’s back.

There, Xiangyun had happened to present a key hypothesis—one that caught Baekwoon’s attention.

They gave him a proper home, warm meals, and clean bathrooms.
Among people who acknowledged his value, Xiangyun felt like he was finally receiving the affection he’d always lacked.
He wanted to learn, to grow as a member of the organization.

Wei Chen was different.

He saw what the organization truly was.
He instinctively understood the lie behind their promise to “save poor kids.”

But he couldn’t talk Xiangyun out of it.
In the end, he had no choice but to follow his brother into Baekwoon.

Years passed.

As Baekwoon’s obsession with bio-weapons intensified, it was Xiangyun who led the development of the new experimental drug—
Nexus.

It was the innovation Baekwoon had pursued for years—
a dark ambition materialized into a weapon.

To Baekwoon, Nexus was a symbol of power and control.
And the brothers who knew its secrets were destined to become obstacles.

Xiangyun made his choice.
He ensured no one could fully control Nexus.
The compound could only be stabilized using the DNA of the brothers themselves.

“We can’t let them abuse Nexus.”

That’s what Xiangyun told Wei Chen, his voice trembling with fear.
The curious, innocent boy he once was—was long gone.

He had seen too much—watched as Baekwoon disposed of victims like garbage.
He could sense it—his and his brother’s end was drawing near.
Especially with Zhang Lihan, who saw Wei Chen as nothing more than a thorn in his side.

Then, one day, after the development of Nexus—

Xiangyun vanished without a trace.
He took all of his research with him, including the finished Nexus.

The incident shook Baekwoon to its core.
Zhang Lihan, who had been preparing to present the successful creation of Nexus to global leaders, saw it as a catastrophic betrayal.
His rage was immediate and unrestrained.

He began tracking Xiangyun without hesitation.
Wei Chen clenched his teeth in silence, picturing what kind of danger his brother might be in now that he’d escaped Zhang Lihan’s grasp.
Tension around Xiangyun’s disappearance grew like a storm cloud within the organization.

If Wei Chen failed to recover Xiangyun—and the only remaining Nexus…

Lukai squeezed his eyes shut, forcing the thought away.

* * *

I’d spent the entire weekend practically comatose.

I opened my laptop out of guilt for the pile of overdue assignments,
but a spike of heat rushed through my body, my head throbbed, and I shut it again.
The rest of the weekend slipped by with me sprawled across the bed, unmoving.

Was this really just a hangover?

That question only came to mind once I got to school.

My body still felt wrecked.
My limbs were heavy, and even walking was painful.
I had to fight to stay conscious, forcing myself to push through the fog clouding my mind.

“Dabi, did you hear about Jung-hoo sunbae?
I didn’t think he was like that, but he’s honestly messed up.”

“Yeah? What happened?”

“He lost his wallet and blamed someone else for it—turned out he just dropped it. Accused an innocent person.”

“What? Son Jung-hoo did that?”

Classmates came over, chatting away and gossiping about Jung-hoo sunbae.
Now that someone had cracked the dam, the flood of criticism surged, and their voices rose.

But to me, it was all just noise.
Muffled buzzing that I couldn’t even register.
I didn’t have the energy to agree or respond to anything.

I think I’m really dying.

Not in a dramatic, teenage hyperbole kind of way—
I genuinely felt like my body was shutting down.

Cold sweat slid down my forehead.

I regretted not going to the hospital over the weekend.
I’d brushed it off as a hangover—stupid.
Now I hated myself for it.

Should I go now?

With trembling fingers, I checked the time on my phone.

Class was about to begin.