Chapter 118
The body of the fallen Utopia member lay beneath me, his crimson blood pooling at my feet.
He no longer moved. I remained rooted in place, unable to tear my gaze away from the death that lay before me.
Viewing death up close wasn’t something I found easy to accept. However, it felt different now. Before, it was like wearing a garment that didn’t fit—it wasn’t mine to begin with. But now, I had unconsciously accepted this as my reality, making the discomfort less overwhelming.
I realized that my consistently poor shooting skills were not only due to a lack of practice, but also because of that very discomfort.
With the barrier of hesitation lifted, my movements with the gun became noticeably lighter.
Without any interference, I would have killed him.
Though I might not have ended his life with a single shot, I would have inflicted a fatal wound.
A wounded opponent would always be at a disadvantage compared to me.
And with the ability to extract information, capturing him and making him speak would be more profitable than simply killing him.
A person capable of silently eliminating someone with a single bullet would surely know the most efficient path.
I watched the man who had killed the one pointing a gun at me.
“Boss.”
Our eyes locked, and his face revealed no emotion—just a still, endless void of black.
The wristwatch on his hand that gripped the gun was stained with blood. It was clear it wasn’t his own.
Due to the black shirt, it wasn’t obvious if there were stains elsewhere.
Baek Hawon moved the gun with an expressionless face, his gaze fixed on me from start to finish as he pulled the trigger.
Bang!
The single gunshot. I instantly knew the bullet had ended its target’s life as the sound rang out.
Yet again, no weak moan escaped the fallen man’s lips.
“…Why not just kill him?”
The unexpected question slipped from my lips, tinged with surprise and confusion.
Baek Hawon had lost his mother to betrayal from Uka, making him hypersensitive to betrayal. When he became boss, he mercilessly dismantled Uka, eradicating anyone remotely connected.
While most never dared to betray Baek Cheon, some brave souls still tried.
Each time, Baek Hawon tracked down everyone associated and rooted them out.
But killing someone right after capturing them was inefficient—it didn’t suit him.
Baek Hawon removed the blood-stained wristwatch. With a light motion, he let it fall to the ground.
Looking down at his hands stained with dried blood, he spoke without emotion.
“You might kill me too.”
His usual monotone voice held a different weight.
Yet, it was more distinct because of its plainness. That response froze my thoughts for a moment.
I couldn’t speak, my lips moving repeatedly without forming any words. Suddenly, a timid voice broke the silence.
“Um… I’ll go tell Boss and the lady that you’re here.”
Angel, trembling with uncertainty, vanished as quickly as a breeze.
Once Angel left, only the silence of the empty alley remained. I clenched and released my fists, struggling to speak.
“…If I were to be the first to die, those men wouldn’t have killed me.”
“Probability?”
Baek Hawon smiled faintly.
“You still don’t understand? Even a 1% chance makes no sense when measuring odds.”
He continued to smile coldly. That smile resembled someone standing on the edge of a cliff, teetering dangerously.
“Even someone who seems destined to live forever can suddenly die right before your eyes.”
I had a sudden understanding of who Baek Hawon was thinking of.
The woman who embraced him in his youth, only to vanish forever.
The mother he truly loved.
“Why did you kill him?”
I only moved my eyes to look down at the two dead men lying on the ground.
Until my gaze returned to Baek Hawon, he never once broke eye contact with me.
“I already asked you that before,” he said quietly.
In this dark alley connected to the back door, the constant noise of the city felt far away, as if submerged beneath water.
It was as if the world was being felt through the muted silence, dust-laden wind slicing through the darkness like a blade. The dim, flickering signboards screeched with each gust. This alley was entirely devoid of color.
The streetlamp attached to the exit door flickered irregularly.
“But you already know the answer,” he said.
Flicker.
The streetlamp blinked on and off, making his silhouette appear and disappear into the shadows.
Baek Hawon bent down and picked up my fallen gun from the ground. He then walked toward me at a steady pace.
Stopping in front of me, he extended his hand.
“There are situations where even 1% probability is unbearable,” he said.
His touch was firm, with no hesitation. Yet, it felt fragile, like handling a glass sphere ready to shatter with the slightest pressure.
The heat from his hand was unbearable amidst the relentless wind.
Baek Hawon placed the gun into my hand, closing it tightly.
When our eyes met again, I realized.
“You’re saying my death is the same as yours right now,” I said softly.
That unbearable heat wasn’t from his hand, but from his gaze that held mine. That look left me unable to endure, forcing my eyes downward as I tightly gripped the gun he had given me.
The cold, firm feel of the gun reminded me of the casino moment—the rush to pull someone away, not thinking, just reacting.
I spoke through heavy breaths, my voice trembling.
“I,”
“Don’t say anything.”
His firm voice cut me off. Baek Hawon released my hand deliberately.
I raised my head to meet his gaze again. His lips curved into a shadowy smile.
“That word you’re about to say? If you say it, I won’t let you go.”
His words lingered as my hand fell helplessly, releasing the gun.
“Go back first. Jihoon will be waiting for you at the end of the alley by now.”
Baek Hawon turned away from me. In the short moments he walked away, countless thoughts jumbled in my mind, like an unending storm.
Eventually, I followed, taking a few hurried steps until I grabbed his wrist.
“Wait. Just wait, Boss.”
Holding onto him tightly, I shook my head.
“I can’t. I have to speak this time.”
I clenched the edge of his black shirt tighter, my desperation making my grip unyielding.
Though he allowed my grip, he didn’t turn toward me.
“You’re saying you don’t want me to die,” I whispered.
I bit down on my lower lip, my voice trembling as I continued.
“I feel the same way. I don’t want you to die. So, I stepped in front of you with a gun when the situation called for it.”
Was it the day I fled from Yugyeom and intervened between him and the gun pointed at him in the forest?
Or the moment in the casino, grabbing Kang Taejun who was holding a gun, pulling him toward me without a second thought?
I couldn’t unravel the choices that led him to stand here today.
But all of them were for me—selfish decisions. To ease my own heart. To avoid seeing those I care about perish.
“But we both hate it when someone else takes the place of our own death.”
So, it was time to end this. A toxic relationship needs to stop before it spirals further.
Perhaps, this too is my selfishness.
Fearing an unpaid debt—an unbearable burden that I would carry forever.
The weight of unreciprocated feelings suffocates. Such relationships only oppress both parties further.
“So let’s make a promise now,” I said with restrained longing and desperation.
The pressure in my hand from gripping his was almost unbearable. I let out a breath and said:
“Even if I’m walking into a situation where I’m bound to die, don’t shield me. Don’t take a bullet for me.”
As I swallowed a shaky breath and raised my head, our eyes locked once again.
“Don’t put your life on the line for me.”
Behind him, the night sky was pitch black, devoid of stars. Yet, his gaze felt darker than that vast darkness.
“Just stop here,” I said softly.
“….”
“And I’ll never do it again.”
I spoke into the darkness, where no moonlight could reach.
It was a promise to myself, a silent declaration that had lingered throughout the time I met his gaze.
“… I’m not sure.”
A whisper-like laugh escaped from Baek Hawon’s shadowy lips.
“If it were really that easy to just stop…”
His voice became darker with each word.
He didn’t push away my hand gripping his, nor did he clasp it back. Instead, he spoke as though lost in thought.
“It wouldn’t have come this far.”
Despite the curve of his lips, there was a chilling stillness in his dark eyes. They seemed on the verge of sinking into darkness, fragile as though ready to disappear beneath the surface.
“Neither would I.”
His gaze shifted, avoiding mine and falling on something far beyond. I slowly turned my head toward the direction his eyes had fixed upon.
“And neither would you.”
From behind, Baek Hawon’s voice echoed faintly, sending a cold shiver through my heart.
Beneath the flickering streetlamp, Yugyeom stood with a blood-soaked white jacket in his hand.
