Chapter 99
In a hopeless gamble, putting everything on the line was a foolish, futile act.
But Yeonbyeol chose to believe in something else instead of weighing the logic and reason.
Even though she knew that this assumption she chose to believe in was a cruel, deep wound inflicted on Hawon.
“Are you giving me a choice? Whether to hold you here and kill you now, or let you go to die soon after.”
Hawon laughed hollowly, then burst into a winded laugh that rattled his chest.
His shoulders, still shaking as he covered his mouth, trembled slightly.
Yeonbyeol tightly gripped the gun pointed at her own heart.
Slowly, Hawon lifted his head, their dark eyes colliding.
The heavy, hollow laugh had ceased. Hawon spat out his words with fury, his gaze sharp and unyielding.
“You promised you wouldn’t kill me.”
His expression was one of the most vivid emotions he had ever shown.
A storm-like intensity in his gaze threatened to consume everything.
Even though no physical touch connected them, Yeonbyeol felt bound tightly, helplessly to his gaze.
“I, you…”
Hawon reached out toward Yeonbyeol, but stopped midway. His hand clenched into a fist in the air.
Since turning twenty alone, he had never found a decision so difficult.
Without priorities, any choice was made in favor of the organization.
But now, what truly mattered to him?
Hawon knew the answer, yet was terrified to admit it. He couldn’t afford to acknowledge it.
Admitting it would be a losing game.
“…I made my choice.”
Yeonbyeol spoke with a pale face. She didn’t avert her gaze, biting her lip once before continuing.
“This time, I’m betting everything on this.”
Yeonbyeol was determined to end it.
The nightmare she called it, and the final game everyone was pushed toward, all of her resolve remained unwavering.
Hawon felt as though he had become a fool. Even as he tried to think of what could be done, nothing came to mind.
A memory surfaced—of Yeonbyeol snatching the gun from his hand and throwing it away.
She was that kind of person. The kind who could pull the trigger on herself.
That truth was as clear as the image of her collapsing after being shot.
Then, her gaze shifted somewhere.
When Hawon read her movement, he realized how detached from reality he had become.
It was too late. Once he grasped that fact, Yeonbyeol moved.
Bang!
The gunshot rang out as Yeonbyeol pulled Hawon close with force.
They fell together, Hawon ensuring not to let her head hit the ground.
But before he could fully process the situation, her hair slipped from his grasp. He couldn’t hold onto her.
Taaang—!
The next gunshot was unusually slow. Everything in that moment felt sluggish.
Hawon stared at the figure blocking his view.
A crimson stain spread down her white sleeve onto his shirt. The black fabric darkened further.
“H… ha! Ha!”
The laughter tore through the silence. Hawon finally saw Taejun standing at the end of the corridor.
Between his red jacket, his white shirt was equally soaked in red.
Taejun continued to laugh uncontrollably as he approached Yeonbyeol, still aiming his gun at her.
“This is really fun.”
With each unsteady step, red footprints were left behind.
“Did you shoot me? You did….”
Taejun collapsed forward, falling onto one knee and bracing himself against the wall.
Blood dripped from his pierced waist onto the floor.
He laughed for a while with his head bowed before suddenly snapping upright.
“You shot me…!”
Taejun yelled, his laugh turning into a scream. His snake-like eyes stretched wide in fury. Reactively, Yeonbyeol pulled the trigger.
But there were no bullets left.
Her shoulder was seared from the shot Taejun fired.
As she collapsed onto the cold floor, she realized that the shot she had taken was her last.
“I guess I’ll just die here.”
Taejun grinned widely.
The gun aimed at him was pulled repeatedly, the trigger squeezed without pause.
Yeonbyeol stood frozen, staring at the gun barrel pointed at her.
If she dodged, Hawon would take the hit, and that thought crossed her mind in that fleeting moment.
Then, with a sudden jerk, she was pulled back harshly. The sensation of falling chilled her nape to the bone.
Two gunshots rang out simultaneously.
Pushed onto the cold floor, Yeonbyeol couldn’t even make a sound. Her eyes flickered weakly, the heavy shadow looming over her.
“…Boss.”
Yeonbyeol slowly lifted her head, her face blank. The shadow consuming her left no room for anything else to be seen.
The face standing above her, looking down with the barrel of a gun pressed against her back, was the only image in her view.
Somehow, he felt so distant, causing Yeonbyeol to reach out and grab the edge of his shirt. Her fingertips stained red as they touched the fabric.
The blood from the bullet lodged in his back dripped forward, falling onto her hand as his body leaned down toward her.
Yeonbyeol’s eyes widened.
“Why…”
Hawon lowered his head slightly and chuckled bitterly.
Why, indeed. He had now figured out the answer to that question.
In the fleeting moment the trigger was pulled, countless options flashed through his mind. There was no need for this level of sacrifice.
A gentle tug would have avoided the bullet.
Now that the gun was empty, she couldn’t threaten him with her life anymore.
Dragging her out against her will would have been possible—whether she begged or cried. That was how it should have been done.
But in the end, he couldn’t.
He chose the most certain way to ensure she didn’t get hurt.
The moment her figure blocking his view overlapped with the memory of him embracing her in his arms, shielding her from harm long ago—it became too much to face.
“I’m just choosing too.”
Hawon said it with a sigh, keeping his gaze fixed on Yeonbyeol, extending his hand.
Yeonbyeol couldn’t bear to look at the gun tightly held in his hand. She merely clenched her own fist gently, feeling the soft release of his touch.
Hawon, releasing Yeonbyeol, gave a faint, hazy smile.
“To keep you alive.”
—
Breath reached the very edge of her chest.
With every step, the smoke-filled corridor thickened until it felt like she would soon be unable to see ahead.
I ran frantically through the seemingly endless corridor.
My dry throat burned. I feared I might suffocate.
Suddenly, through a partially opened door at the end of the hall, a gray haze seeped out.
I sprinted straight for it, grabbing the door without hesitation.
“…”
It was like a stormy sea. A vast red ocean filled my vision, stretching endlessly.
The fiery heat surged with such ferocity, it felt as though it could swallow me whole.
The intense heat sank deep into my skin. The thought of suffocating was imminent.
Instinctively, I knew—once immersed, escape would be impossible.
Yet, I willingly dove into the unknown depths of this sea.
“Yugyeom!”
Flames rose up to the ceiling, almost reaching the heavens.
If the ceiling and pillars were to collapse, it wouldn’t have been surprising. Time was running out.
I covered my mouth and nose with my arm, scanning the surroundings desperately. The flames were too intense to even open my eyes fully.
This fire was nothing like the one I faced in Utopia.
Here, it felt more likely I’d be consumed by the ashes than safely escape.
“Yugyeom! If you can hear me, please answer! Anything is fine, just… please!”
I cried out frantically.
The heat felt like it was melting my insides, clouding my thoughts and movements.
My body resisted, refusing to move according to my will.
Instinct and desire pulled in opposite directions.
I resisted the instinct, forcing my legs to move step by step, collapsing under the pressure.
My voice, torn from my throat, was drowned out by the roaring flames.
Time stretched endlessly, and the hope that Yugeum was here felt like a lie.
Maybe I was deceived again.
Crash!
The futile wish crumbled with the collapsing pillars before me.
I fell to my knees, unable to rise or lift my head, clutching my chest as my breath grew shallow. The oppressive heat stole my air away.
I clenched my fist tightly, gripping the cold, hard barrel. My trembling fingers locked onto it.
As I tried to stand again, a sharp ringing pierced my head.
Despite covering my ears, the ringing didn’t stop.
It sounded like a siren, or perhaps a distorted whisper, echoing through my mind.
My heartbeat thudded painfully in my head. I trembled uncontrollably under the unbearable pressure.
“Guh…!”
I expelled a ragged breath, lifting my head. Through my tear-streaked vision, a faint figure appeared.
The ringing faded slightly, and the voice became clearer.
It was strange. Not distant calls, but a whisper in my ear—a memory brought to life.
Then, I recognized the voice.
Before I could react, the ceiling collapsed.
