March Novel (Completed) - Chapter 35

“What do you think this means?”

Gi Taejeong’s voice snapped Sehwa back to reality. Sehwa clenched and unclenched his fists, chasing away stray thoughts. He had resolved to know his place, yet here he was, thinking useless thoughts again. He hadn’t known it before, having never rested, but he was someone who shouldn’t be allowed any mental leeway.

As soon as a gap appeared, useless thoughts flooded in. Old, difficult times. The current situation, which hadn’t changed even a little from back then. The confidence he’d had that he was hardened, but in truth, the disdain and coldness of people couldn’t truly be nothing to him… Such thoughts, which constantly made him feel pathetic, slowly crept up, making Sehwa depressed.

Know your place, know your place. Sehwa diligently rolled his tongue inside his mouth. A few days of rest had completely loosened his screws. To feel hurt because no one recognized his injured foot. And of all people, from this man.

“Do these patterns have meaning? Like the ssangpi earlier?”

What he pointed to were badges covered in a thick layer of dust. The shelf in Sector 9-2, from which Z2 had been taken, held no sacks of drugs. Instead, it was filled with objects unfamiliar to Sehwa. Mortars that looked like miniature cannons, terrifying firearms whose names he didn’t know, old commendations, worn-out documents and albums… The rest were things he’d never seen before, so he couldn’t even guess what they were. He just assumed they were military items, given it was a military facility.

“They’re not patterns used in Hwatu. Doesn’t look like poker either.”

“Hmm…”

Gi Taejeong rested his chin on his thumb and tapped the tip of his nose with his index finger. His lips, pressed firmly by his middle finger, twisted askew. Over the unfamiliar exterior, Gi Taejeong’s true face, the one Sehwa knew, was superimposed. The yellow light, the madly buzzing red warning lamp, and the suitably dim secret room gave Gi Taejeong’s face a profound depth. Beautiful and melancholic. He had thought the same thing when he first saw this man. That he was someone better suited to the evening glow than the rising sun.

“Should we take them, just in case?”

It was a command, merely phrased as a question, telling him to take care of it himself. Sehwa opened the cross-body bag he wore like a fanny pack without a word. He carefully avoided the side where the syringe was, opened an empty front pocket, and stuffed the badges in.

“By the way, Director, this…”

Suddenly, something shattered with a kwadeuk sound from the ceiling. Sehwa, who was about to ask about the badges while closing the zipper, froze. Did the sound of him closing the zipper echo so terrifyingly? The timing was so uncanny that, absurdly, that was the first thought that came to mind. In truth, he wanted to desperately ignore the rising sense of dread, feeling as if he knew what it was but wanted to deny it.

No way. It can’t be. Nothing will happen. But as if mocking Sehwa, stone dust rained down on their shoulders with a hooduduk. He hunched his neck and glanced at the ceiling… fine cracks were appearing. With every blink, the fine cracks became thick lines, then expanded into larger areas.

“You fucking…!”

Gi Taejeong yanked Sehwa’s wrist. The ceiling was splitting open like a snake’s gaping maw. A horrifying sound of crunching and breaking, as if something was being devoured, echoed through the corridor.

“This, I, I didn’t do it…!”

Just as he was zipping up, something happened, and Sehwa immediately started making excuses. It was a habit. To deny, to say he didn’t know, to apologize first.

“I was just trying to put this in my bag…”

Sehwa, who had been shaking his head, suddenly stopped.

“What nonsense are you talking about? Your zipper is closing and…”

A metal grate crashed down exactly where Sehwa had been standing moments before.

“…what does that have to do with that falling?”

Unlike the black firewalls, it was literally a metal grate, tightly woven with iron bars. If he had stayed there, he would have been trapped without escape. No, he might have died from being hit by the iron bars falling on his head.

“…What in the world is that…?”

• Ahem, freeze. You are surrounded.

The siren faded, and a crackling voice emerged. It meant there were living enemies, so he should have been surprised… but instead, Sehwa felt relieved and clutched his chest. Someone had activated the system. Having experienced all sorts of bizarre things lately, he had momentarily imagined that this badge might be some kind of button.

• Reinforcements will arrive soon. We also know that you are A-class criminals. Our military will not forgive you…

It seemed this was the first time they had issued such a warning; the voice stammered and even cracked in places. The person themselves seemed terrified. Only then did Sehwa feel a slight easing of tension and relaxed his stiff shoulders.

“Even if they said they’d spare us if we surrendered, we’d barely listen, but that bastard is talking about immediate execution if we’re caught.”

Gi Taejeong scoffed bitterly and reached for the shelf.

“The military discipline these days is a mess.”

What he picked up was a bazooka so massive that it was incomprehensible how he held it with one hand.

“Sweetheart. If I carry you again this time, can you promise not to drop this?”

Gi Taejeong held out the Z2, which was in his other hand, to Sehwa.

“Me, me?”

“Yeah. But if you drop it, it’ll explode right away.”

Then you and I will be blown to bits right there, together, amicably. Hearing that, Sehwa turned pale and shook his head, and Gi Taejeong, as if he expected it, withdrew his hand.

“Then there’s no choice. We’ll have to test your luck in another way.”

Gi Taejeong tapped the shelf with the bazooka. With just a few taps, the thick metal groaned and warped. He didn’t know if it was due to the bazooka’s weight or his strength. Gi Taejeong gripped the bent part like a handle and rotated the heavy shelf halfway. The opposite corridor was almost blocked, leaving only a tiny gap.

“Director…”

He didn’t know what it was, but it didn’t seem like a good sign. As he stammered his name, Gi Taejeong grabbed Sehwa by the nape of his neck. Like taming a disobedient young animal.

“Run as far as you can.”

Then he roughly threw Sehwa a few steps away.

“I’m going to take care of this.”

Gi Taejeong subtly showed him the Z2 he held in his hand. Sehwa squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them. A strong dizziness made him nearly stumble. A flurry of words surged up, wanting to be said to him. So many words, so many screams, hung on the tip of his tongue, making his throat ache even though he couldn’t utter a single sound to Gi Taejeong.

“I’ve done many drills similar to this, it’s fine.”

“I haven’t!”

His voice, cried out in fear, was a high-pitched near-scream.

“Instead of saying that, it’d be better to run a little farther.”

Gi Taejeong pointed behind him as if annoyed.

“If my foot were in that state, I’d definitely do that.”

Ah… Sehwa couldn’t say anything. He knew. He knew his foot was badly injured, bleeding profusely… Gi Taejeong had known all along but pretended not to.

Indeed, he was the kind of person who found and shot dead soldiers hiding behind him to ambush them. There was no way he wouldn’t have known. He had no reason to care for or look after him, so he ignored it even when he saw it. And now they weren’t even having sex, no, even if they were in the middle of sex, he probably wouldn’t have cared about the bleeding foot and would have just swung his dick around. Because there was nothing wrong with the hole.

Sehwa held his cross-body bag and waddled away. Fortunately, he didn’t cry. It just… felt like another brand had been stamped on his pathetic situation, and it made him feel bad. To Gi Taejeong, he was just someone whose hole shouldn’t be injured, someone who should be fine during sex.

Was Gi Taejeong doing this to make him lose all affection? Not that there was any affection to build between them… If this was to make him have not a single shred of lingering attachment to the world before he was torn apart by a bomb, then God was truly cruel to him.

“Hah, haah…”

Even as he urged his broken body, the exit was still impossibly far. He thought he could at least run slowly after catching his breath, but Sehwa’s body, which had already used all its strength, wouldn’t obey. He was completely worn out.

A rumbling sound, like thunder, echoed from above. He wondered if the shelter would really collapse, but then he thought that since Lieutenant Kim had neglected it enough to hide drugs there, it wouldn’t be safe. Especially with the system, which had probably never been activated since the building was built, now excitedly running…

Now, instead of stone dust, fist-sized concrete debris was falling from the ceiling. The old building twisted and screamed. His tightly pressed lips trembled uncontrollably from the chilling fear.