Jin Muhae was the kind of person who drew attention even on a normal day.His fierce expression kept people from staring or striking up conversations, but ever since he’d thickened his bones with mercenary work, all kinds of gazes followed him—for better or worse.That day, the makeshift station teemed with mercenaries. As we passed through them, Joo-o suddenly lifted his head and cheerfully greeted the nearest stranger.Of course it was one of Jackal’s crew. We’d never clashed seriously, but getting tangled up with them always spelled trouble. Joo-o swung his hand to wave—too late to stop him.Smack. My hand connected solidly with his skull. The impact echoed. He winced but didn’t apologize—he’d ignored my warning to behave.Later, when we were alone on the mobility bike, Joo-o took off his hood. And—I don’t know why—I found my eyes drawn to his scalp. Something about those stray tufts framing his round head bothered me. Maybe his expression was off. Without thinking, I reached out and brushed my fingers through his hair.Yeah. I petted him.“…”Up to that point, it felt fine. I wasn’t hitting him again. He wouldn’t have flipped out over a simple stroke.But Joo-o’s reaction surprised me. His eyes widened, then suddenly he squeezed them shut with a soft gasp. In an instant, his brow lifted in pleasure, and I caught a flash of his tongue peeking between his slightly parted, red, supple lips.A shiver ran from my fingertips down my spine. I froze, hand stilled. He cracked one eye open and looked right at me.“Kirrung.”He’d made that sound—like some secret vocal apparatus opening at his throat. Between his narrowed lids, pleasure gleamed in his gaze.I snapped back to my senses and withdrew my hand. The moment passed. Joo-o tilted his head and went back to staring out the window as if nothing had happened. I clenched my fist and checked the controls.I thought we’d gotten past it… but damn. The next day, he started slipping his head against me again—subtly, feigning ignorance while inching closer. Of course, I pretended not to notice. After a few days of that, he flashed a sudden look of realization.‘Maybe… you want me to hit you first?’‘…What?’The bastard. No matter what trauma he’d endured, he’d learned something profoundly wrong. I snapped at him to stop his nonsense, but then he added “Stroke me” and “Hit me, then stroke me” to his repertoire.“You. I swear, if you start spouting weird crap anywhere else, there won’t be any TV for you.”Already for the umpteenth time, I growled the warning. Even my steady nerves prickled at those words.As always, Joo-o only fussed about his own whims.“Wanna watch TV?”“If you talk bullshit, there is no TV.”“Mm. Okay!”After that roller coaster, I granted his late-night TV permission. He beamed. My temples throbbed with a headache.Damn it. Thinking about this is a waste. I forced my scattered thoughts onto work: I needed to see Gil Sajang early tomorrow. It’d be our first meeting since sharing the “emergency network” info a few days back.‘We’ll need an authentication module.’‘Authentication module?’‘Yeah. Slip it into a secured device and only the approved nodes can communicate.’I remembered that Gil’s eyes had looked a bit red when he scanned the network. After a silent moment, he handed me a comms component he said only certain collaborators had used.‘Then maybe…’‘Nope. I don’t have one. I scrapped them ages ago—didn’t want to dig through that mess.’‘Can we get another? You’re good at that.’‘Dunno. I didn’t develop it. If the schematics exist, I could try—but do they even survive?’He’d sipped his leaf tea all while on his feet. His usual bored expression was there, but his frown was set with resolve.‘The codes were engraved as tattoos, right?’‘Yeah. He said they etched them on the skin.’‘Then some must remain. He’d hide them somewhere.’He spoke almost as if sure. Whenever Gil Sajang answered that way, nine times out of ten he was right. Gear he “couldn’t” fix would return to working; contracts he deemed “impossible,” I’d botch. So finding either the schematics or the device became my top priority.From then on, I dug through every document I’d skimmed. No new leads on authentication modules—but hours later, Gil Sajang messaged: “Remember that folding knife you used sometimes?”‘Not really my father’s, though.’It was the first weapon I’d bought with my own money. In these parts, even kids carried a blade for peace of mind. That simple blade had endured several of Gil’s modifications before finally cracking, then sat abandoned in my drawer. When he made it—first manually, then semi-auto, then with an ultrasonic function—it had served us well.‘You want me to bring that?’Odd request—but I agreed. When I dug it out, it was powerless, the blade showing patches of rust.“Jin Muhae. Aren’t you eating more?”Someone pulled me back to the moment. Joo-o stood there, clean-faced as ever, tapping his fork.“Why? Is that not enough?”“No, I was just asking! I won’t steal yours anymore.”He snapped indignantly, shaking his head. Come to think of it, he hadn’t raided my plate lately. He was eating the same amount—but never a single bite of what I’d set aside.“Eat more yourself. And stop scavenging weird stuff at night.”I’d even bought that entire bird for him. He murmured doubtingly, then cut hefty slices and piled them on his plate.‘Must feel nice.’No home, no memories—yet he was carefree in everything. Did he even grasp the stratified society or the idea of reform? Judging by ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) the ungodly cereal budget and the fact he worked for free, he cared only about eating, sleeping, and playing.“Tomorrow morning… can I be alone for a bit?”“No.”“Right. Figured.”He was perfect company for my plans. A sane man who overheard too much would have to be disposed of under the guise of an accident. Joo-o hummed tunelessly, unaware of my darker thoughts. The melody sounded strangely familiar.Joo-o’s daily routine was simple and straightforward.At dawn, he’d wake and stare at the ceiling until he heard me outside his door: my breathing, the rustle as I shifted, the click as I opened the system window—and the date would update. He learned that the moment he’d first dropped into La Vida Blue was early morning this way. He’d bounce his foot, reread the quest list several times a day, marveling that his body now had ten fingers, ten toes, four limbs, one head, no tail. It was endlessly fascinating.Before falling into La Vida Blue, he must’ve looked like this. Though ages had passed, it felt strange and distant. Maybe because he had no memories. His consciousness had flickered like a firefly each time he nearly went mad inside Anomalies.After gathering his disoriented thoughts, he’d hear the sounds of life outside: me making the bed, checking watch messages, closing the bathroom door, water rushing as I showered—cracks of my knuckles echoing under the spray. Teeth brushing, clothes rustling over damp skin. Every tiny sound he could register—though he usually didn’t, to avoid distraction and avoid my annoyance.Then, a few moments later…Knock knock.A perfunctory knock woke him. Time to eat. He’d close all the system windows and spring up. Though he’d rush to the door, I’d already walked into the living room.“Today, something different.”“Why?”“Don’t you remember? You cleared out the last box yesterday.”“Yours didn’t taste good.”Breakfast was always cereal. After eating and washing up, following my schedule, he’d move on too. Today, at last, was the day to follow a quest. His heart thumped a bit.“We’re going to the electronics shop.”“Okay.”“We’re not buying gear today—sit and wait in a chair.”He answered vacantly and watched my wet hair drip. The player said I looked better in real life than as mere computer graphics.

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