Soon, the mercenary noticed Joo-o’s presence. He sauntered up to the camera and quietly launched into the agreed line.―“Uh, hey. You still haven’t been to the party?”Silence followed. No answer from Joo-o.Muhae frowned and pressed the receiver to his mouth.“What are you doing? Don’t you remember your lines?”He couldn’t have forgotten them in that short time. Had he just been nervous?A likely guess—Muhae’s mind flashed back to Joo-o’s tearful face in that bar in Taeul District.Back then, with that panicked, helpless expression, he’d looked pitiful as hell.―“Um… I was going with you.”Fortunately, Joo-o’s voice came through the camera. Though still a bit wavering, it carried no hint of panic or fear.―“Good. Let’s go.”The mercenary signaled sharply, and the video feed switched backgrounds.Joo-o walked from a dark alley into an even darker backstreet, from a secluded spot to an ever more secretive one.―“By the way, why’d you dress like that to go to the party?”The man tried to stall with small talk. Joo-o didn’t seem the type to invent a plausible excuse.Silence might have been better—better than babbling.―“If you take off your hat, you’ll get in trouble. They said only at home.”But betraying expectations, Joo-o spoke plainly—perfectly honest, true only to himself.Boss Gil glanced at Muhae.“He got harassed,” Joo-o said flatly.“Who said what?” Boss Gil shrugged and gestured back at the video.―“Don’t go too far.”―“You can’t hold a party just anywhere.”―“True.”After more walking, the mercenary halted. He glanced around, then stepped close to Joo-o.So close that only his chest filled the screen. A rustle sounded in the mic as he placed the goods into Joo-o’s pocket.Now Joo-o only had to say where he left the cash and slip away—half the mission done.Muhae, inwardly relieved, suddenly heard the mercenary’s question again.―“Hey, I’ve been wondering.”―“Yeah?”―“Why do you always hide your face?”―“……”He spoke as if to an old acquaintance. Maybe it was the rendezvous act, but the vibe felt off.Muhae’s gut twisted; he gripped the receiver tight.―“You’re the one with Jin Muhae, right? Just changed your clothes?”“Damn.”It wasn’t a false alarm. Joo-o had covered his face so thoroughly, Muhae thought no one would recognize him.But of course—he always did that. Maybe that alone made him familiar.The mercenary’s bulk still filled the frame.He continued rustling Joo-o’s pocket, chuckling.―“Why not take your hand out?”―“If you tell me, I will.”―“Can’t do that.”―“Then neither can I.”Joo-o’s retorts took on a teasing tone.The mercenary had clearly sensed something odd in Joo-o’s speech.“Jesus.” Boss Gil spat, nudging Muhae. Finally Muhae clenched his teeth and pressed the receiver button.“Ignore him. Get out.”Now everyone would know Muhae was smuggling the part. He had no faith Joo-o would handle it deftly—better to extract the goods fast.―“Jin Muhae doesn’t know. He can’t know.”Yet again, Joo-o chose his own response.―“I stepped on what Muhae uses. He’ll be mad…”A sharp inhale rattled the mic—the sound of Joo-o fighting fear and shame.It sounded uncannily real—Muhae even recalled a vaguely similar moment in his memories.―“What did you break?”―“Don’t know. Something square. But they said we need this.”―“Planning to fix it on the sly?”―“Yeah… I don’t wanna get hit again.”Letting him talk felt wrong—the chat was veering further off-course.Feeling Boss Gil’s gaze, Muhae stiffened and shook his head.“I’m not gonna hit him.”“Who’s complaining?”“I did hit his head, but it wasn’t like… I just…”He’d struck him but not really hit him? The more he tried to clarify, the more absurd it sounded. Muhae sighed and gave up explaining.Luckily, the mercenary seemed to believe it—blurring the link to Muhae’s real backing.With that, Joo-o’s exchange wrapped up.―“I left your housewarming gift at the yellow house on the corner.”Finally, the camera swung back, and Joo-o, mission complete, strolled cheerfully.Once out of the alley, he hummed a tune—hard to believe he’d been so tentative before.If tension was only from the onlookers, Boss Gil, who’d insisted on running the op, slumped sideways as if sick.“Why don’t you go in and rest?” Joo-o suggested in the footage.“No. I’ve got to watch until it’s in my hands.”His voice sounded weaker, sweat beading on his forehead as he stared at the screen.Joo-o marched through the empty late-night grocery store, camera bobbing on his chest.―“Jin Muhae.”Joo-o called, as if Muhae were right there.―“I’m gonna look around here now.”He announced his next steps, inspecting rows of cereal and snacks Joo-o had scammed, then the sparse chunks of red meat.―“You know, you can order this stuff at home.”Crinkle, crinkle.―“I wondered how a shop like this survived.”No reply, yet Joo-o continued chatting as if Muhae were his audience.―“But I get it. Watching food is more fun in person.”Muhae held his receiver near his mouth, but didn’t reply—didn’t want to encourage more aimless chatter.Even though joining in wasn’t hard, it felt wrong—Boss Gil was watching, and this acceptance of Joo-o’s rambling felt off.―“Tornado costs this much. Which meat should I get?”“……”―“Never knew beast meat was cheaper than fake meat. This is really cheap.”As closing time neared, Joo-o’s monologue echoed even in the empty store.Maybe the camera’s mic made it sound emptier, but his indifferent tone hit strangely hollow.―“Oh, right, Muhae.”Joo-o poked a packaged meat slab and suddenly whispered—the video stilled.―“Did I do well?”At that question, Muhae felt his fingers twitch on the receiver. He turned to look but scowled and stayed silent.“Yeah.”He pressed the receiver button and finally answered.The video froze in silence so long Muhae worried something glitched—then—―“Ha ha… hah.”Joo-o laughed confidently, grabbed the largest slab, and headed for the register.Beep! The cart items scanned themselves as they passed the sensor—his watch chimed payment.Ding—.Muhae’s watch displayed the payment confirmation. As he checked each item, Boss Gil rustled beside him.“I need to rest.”The man who had forced himself upright now rose, unnerved, and left for the bedroom with a queasy look.“Come to the electronics shop.”Muhae hadn’t felt overly watched by Boss Gil, but those words loosened his tongue.“I’ll meet you there.”―“Ha ha. Okay!”“Be careful who follows you.”―“Got it.”The familiar streets appeared on screen: dark alleys of Star Avenue, then an uphill to a shuttered electronics shop.Because of Boss Gil’s health, the store had closed for days—and in that time, three obscene graffiti tags had appeared on the shutters.Bang, bang.“Jin Muhae.”―“Jin Muhae.”The same calls echoed inside and out.Muhae set aside the receiver, pushed through the door, and slowly raised the shutter.His black boots, snug jumper, and the large envelope in his hand came into view, then—A glint: Joo-o lowered his mask, revealing a faint smile.Muhae closed the shutter and reached out. The cap he’d refused to remove slipped back, pulling his hair off his forehead.“I brought it safely.”Joo-o rummaged in his pocket and ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) produced the packaged part—complete with serial number, unquestionably genuine.He stepped forward and slipped the part into Muhae’s pocket, reenacting the earlier deal.A soft scent drifted as his dark hair brushed Muhae’s hand, prompting Muhae to check the knot on his sleeve.At that moment, Joo-o hadn’t shown any hint of pain—yet he’d mustered the courage to say so much.Hand warmed from clenching the receiver, Muhae brushed Joo-o’s hair, lifting strands at his forehead with his thumb, then let his long fingers drift along the side.Click. Joo-o set down the heavy envelope and closed his eyes in pleasure.As if asking for more, he tilted his head—ears and cheeks soft under Muhae’s touch.The smooth skin felt addictive. Impulsively, Muhae stroked Joo-o’s face, then drew his hand back, knuckles white.“You did well.”At that unheard praise, Joo-o’s eyes flew open in surprise.

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