Free Web NovelBefore he knew it, two weeks had already passed since Jaegyeom entered the Office of Narye.
Life at headquarters was going smoothly.
By now, Jaegyeom was familiar with most of the main building’s layout. He even knew where the supply room was and could run errands like delivering documents to other departments without getting lost.
Since the fight in the restroom that day, Yoon Taehee and Jaegyeom had treated each other like invisible people.
Or, more accurately, Yoon Taehee had stopped provoking him.
The two no longer exchanged pointless barbs, and outside of work, they hardly crossed paths at all. Naturally, there had been no more kissing incidents either.
In the meantime, Jaegyeom had gone out on several field assignments and submitted reports afterward each time.
Even when they ended up alone together in the chief’s office while turning in paperwork—
“Good work.”
Those were the only words Yoon Taehee ever said.
So unless it was work-related, Jaegyeom also avoided speaking to him.
Still, Taehee continued sending him heart requests on Friends Pang with absurd consistency.
Jaegyeom had considered blocking him, just like Im Hyomun suggested, but some stubborn part of him refused. Blocking Taehee felt like admitting defeat somehow. He wanted to prove—to Taehee and to himself—that Yoon Taehee did not have that much influence over him.
The atmosphere between them had settled into something strangely muted.
During that quiet stretch of time, Yoon Taehee seemed calm, subdued, and oddly spiritless. He looked slightly worn down as well. Even when drinking tea with the team or joining their conversations, he only smiled faintly once in a while.
Jaegyeom tried very hard not to pay attention to any of it.
***
That morning, they received a dispatch order.
Jaegyeom was assigned to an external call with Kang Ibin.
Their mission was to fix a traffic light.
When they arrived at the scene, a ghost was dangling from the traffic signal, shrieking at the top of its lungs. Of course, ordinary people couldn’t see it.
The ghost clinging to the traffic light was the source of the malfunction. Even after the signal turned green, it would suddenly switch back to red only a few seconds later, causing complete chaos. Pedestrians crossing the street were constantly put in danger.
Several minor accidents had already happened, and the entire intersection was in total gridlock.
“Ugh. That fucking bastard.”
Kang Ibin looked up at the traffic light and cursed openly.
Because it was broad daylight in a crowded public area, they couldn’t wear field masks. Instead, Kang Ibin and Jaegyeom climbed onto a crane truck disguised as maintenance workers in fluorescent safety vests and hard hats.
Rather than screwdrivers, Kang Ibin pulled talismans and ghost-binding implements from her tool bag.
Jaegyeom, meanwhile, served as her assistant.
Although he had already gone on several field missions, most of the time he still played a supporting role rather than handling cases personally. Today was no different.
The number of dispatched Naja varied depending on the severity of the incident, and senior Naja often handled smaller cases alone. But since Jaegyeom was still a probationary Naja, it was standard practice for him to accompany a senior and learn through observation.
This particular case wasn’t difficult—just annoying.
Cases like this happened several times a month.
“Hey, wasn’t this damn thing broken last time too? If they’re gonna fix it, they should fix it properly. Miss, do you even know how much tax I pay every year?”
While ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) waiting at the intersection, a driver who had rolled down his window started complaining irritably.
Honestly, people like this were often more exhausting than the ghosts themselves.
And Kang Ibin’s temper was absolutely not suited for quietly enduring complaints.
“Hey, mister. Why’re you taking it out on me?”
The middle-aged driver immediately flared up.
“What? Ta-taking it out on you? You think talking back like that’s okay?”
“If you’ve got that much free time, go home and do your laundry!”
“Wh-what the hell did you just say?! Hey! Don’t you have parents?!”
“Nope! Don’t got any! And this is obstruction of official duties, by the way!”
Eyes blazing, Kang Ibin glanced toward her assistant.
“Jaegyeom. Got pliers in the bag? Take them out and drop them right here.”
Expressionless, Jaegyeom obediently pulled out a pair of heavy pliers from the tool bag.
Fortunately—or unfortunately—before things could escalate any further, a nearby traffic officer noticed the shouting and hurried over to intervene.
The officer wearing the fluorescent vest labeled TRAFFIC was actually a Naja from the Covert Division. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com
“Seriously. Making a living’s hard these days.”
Kang Ibin grumbled after finally fixing the traffic light—or rather, after driving off the ghost.
Since the entire point of bringing the rookie was observation and training, there had been little reason for Jaegyeom to step in.
“This kind of thing happens all the time. Watch carefully and learn.”
“Yes...”
To Jaegyeom, though, the crane itself was far more interesting.
It was his first time riding one.
***
Yoon Taehee had been suffering from a lingering cold for several days.
“That’s strange. The fever should’ve gone down by now...”
The Purification Unit Naja who checked his temperature tilted their head with a worried look.
The low fever refused to disappear, leaving Taehee feeling hazy and drained. He had already visited the infirmary in the annex several times, but his condition barely improved. It would seem better for a day or two before worsening again, and even the medicine did little.
“It’s probably not just a cold. This looks more like internal heat.”
Internal heat.
Yoon Taehee narrowed his eyes slightly.
“In modern terms, you can think of it as stress.”
The Purification Unit Naja spoke calmly.
“If it were an ordinary cold, your fever would’ve broken already.”
Medicine from the Purification Unit was far more effective than anything from an ordinary hospital, yet the fever clung stubbornly to him. It always felt as though it was just about to break, only to linger again.
“In short, the fever’s being caused by emotional strain. Heat produced by unresolved stress or dissatisfaction.”
The other Naja studied him carefully.
“Have you been under a lot of pressure lately?”
Yoon Taehee didn’t answer.
The Purification Unit Naja prescribed a stronger herbal pill along with a cup of clear medicinal water.
After swallowing the medicine in one gulp, Taehee left the infirmary.
As he walked down the hallway wearing his Fool mask, people recognized Chief Yoon and greeted him one after another.
“Oh? Chief!”
Yoon Taehee barely nodded at the flood of greetings as he passed.
At the end of the corridor, the members of Team 1 spotted him and waved.
“Chief, how’re you feeling? What’d they say?”
“Nothing serious. Just a cold.”
Go Junhyung looked genuinely sympathetic.
“Ah, Chief... they say even dogs don’t catch colds in summer...”
Kang Ibin immediately jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow.
Sometimes Go Junhyung truly had no sense of what he should and shouldn’t say.
By now, the weather had already shifted into early summer.
“We’re about to go eat. Want us to bring back some porridge for you?”
“No, it’s fine. Go enjoy your lunch.”
“Don’t push yourself too hard. Maybe you should head home early today?”
Yoon Taehee let out a quiet laugh at the concern in their voices.
“I’ll think about it.”
After chatting briefly in the hallway, the members of Team 1 started heading off in different directions.
Yoon Taehee took a few steps toward the office before suddenly stopping.
“Oh, right.”
The others turned back toward him.
After hesitating briefly, Taehee asked,
“...Where’s Jaegyeom?”
Jaegyeom, who should have been with the rest of the team, was nowhere in sight.
“He stayed up all night playing Friends Pang and said he was sleepy, so he’s eating later.”
Kang Ibin shrugged as if there was nothing to be done about it.
Yoon Taehee knew very well that Jaegyeom had become obsessed with Friends Pang lately.
After all, he received heart requests from him twice a day.
“I see.”
Without another comment, Taehee nodded and resumed walking.
Back inside Team 1’s office, he picked up the ID card hanging from his neck. The opaque automatic glass door slid open with a soft mechanical buzz.
The office was quiet.
Yoon Taehee’s gaze drifted toward one corner of the room.
A large table sat there, the one Team 1 usually used for snacks or casual meetings.
Jaegyeom was sprawled across it asleep, his head resting on one arm.
Sunlight poured through the windows, washing the tabletop in warm gold, though the place where Jaegyeom slept still lay in shadow. It looked like he had deliberately chosen the shaded spot to avoid the sunlight.
But slowly, the light was creeping toward him.
Yoon Taehee glanced at him once before walking past.
Step by step, he headed toward the chief’s office.
Then he stopped.
Slowly, he turned back.
Removing his mask, he stood looking down at Jaegyeom’s sleeping face.
Back at school, he used to see him like this all the time.
Whenever the library grew quiet, Taehee would glance over and find Jaegyeom asleep with his cheek pressed against his arm just like this.
And every time, he would quietly watch him sleep.
His cheek was slightly squashed beneath the weight of his arm.
Yoon Taehee silently studied Jaegyeom’s profile.
Then, watching him sleep with one arm stretched out across the table, Taehee slowly raised a hand.
By now, the sunlight had started nibbling at Jaegyeom’s fingers.
Taehee lifted his hand as though to shield him from the light.
The shadow cast by his fingers flickered over Jaegyeom’s hand and overlapped it.
“...”
Then he reached toward Jaegyeom’s face.
With slow, careful movements, he brushed back Jaegyeom’s forehead exactly as he had done countless times before.
At the touch, Jaegyeom’s brow twitched faintly.
Yoon Taehee remembered something Sisi had once said.
‘...Should I tell you how to make a ghost your servant? You carry the mark of hometown. If you choose to, you can command spirits. Bleed your hand and draw a straight line across the ghost’s forehead. Call its name, and that ghost will belong to you...’
But the boy before him was not a ghost.
So Sisi’s method would never work on him.
Even so, Yoon Taehee had touched this boy’s forehead countless times before.
We both know what we want from each other.
I’ll stake my eternal life to make you win.
Yoon Taehee bit down lightly on his lip.
Something heavy and burning suddenly swelled inside his chest.
As he forced it back down, an icy coldness settled into one corner of his heart and made it hard to breathe.
A weight seemed lodged deep in his stomach, dragging downward.
And every time that weight swayed, Yoon Taehee’s heart swayed with it.
Quietly, he stared at the sleeping Jaegyeom.
His eyes traced the lines of his face and slid slowly down the length of his neck.
For one brief moment, his chest tightened painfully.
Suddenly, he wanted to grab that neck and snap it.
At the same time, he wanted to bury his face against it and breathe him in.
Something kept making Yoon Taehee unbearably restless.
You’re nothing to me.
Maybe the Naja from the Purification Unit had been right.
Maybe this fever truly wasn’t from a cold, but from emotions that refused to settle.
Because it was true.
Yoon Taehee was angry.
Angry that Jaegyeom had said he meant nothing.
And angry that, in the end, he really was nothing to him.
Slowly, Yoon Taehee closed his eyes.
At some point, a seed planted deep inside him had already begun to sprout roots.
Something kept feeding it.
Silently, it grew.
Like tangled vines, it wrapped itself around his heart.
It grew without nourishment, feeding only on him from the inside.
Someday, all of this would end.
Yoon Taehee had waited a very long time for that day.
Right.
Jaegyeom’s death would be the proof of their victory.
So let this heart rot away and disappear.
Let it become some insignificant thing, uprooted by the storm and blown away without a trace.
Let it become a heart that vanished like a mirage the moment he opened his eyes.
Let it become a love that passed quietly by without leaving anything behind.
With exhausted steps, Yoon Taehee silently returned to the chief’s office.
