Honbul: Flame of the Soul

“Hey. Why are you only eating the same side dishes?”

One reason Jaegyeom liked Dolsoe’s Baekban was that the rice portions were generous. Another was that they served six different side dishes.

Yet out of all those side dishes, Yoon Taehee had only touched two: stir-fried fish cake and seasoned squid. The black beans and vegetable side dishes were all sitting untouched.

Jaegyeom had noticed before that Yoon Taehee was a picky eater with a small appetite. A few days ago, when they ate together at Im Hyomun’s pork cutlet restaurant, Taehee had left several pieces behind and hadn’t touched the salad at all.

It wasn’t that Jaegyeom had been trying to observe him.

At some point, those things had simply started catching his eye.

“Stop picking at your food and eat properly. Eat a variety.”

“Mm.”

But Taehee’s answer was pure lip service. His chopsticks went straight back to the stir-fried fish cake.

“You keep eating only what you like and nothing good for you. That’s why your body’s so weak.”

Jaegyeom finally said what had been bothering him.

He had brought Taehee here on purpose because there were plenty of vegetable side dishes and the rice came in large portions. Yet Yoon Taehee was still picking and choosing, which irritated him.

“I’ve eaten plenty of things that were good for me.”

Yoon Taehee lifted one eyebrow as he answered.

“What? When? I’ve been watching, and you haven’t touched any of them.”

“Not now. Back then. When I was young.”

“You didn’t eat like this when you were young?”

“No.”

“Then why are you picky now?”

“I ate so much of it back then that I got sick of it.”

Taehee moved his chopsticks and added quietly, “Temple food is basically all greens.”

Jaegyeom’s eyes widened.

Temple food?

Did that mean he had lived at a temple?

This was the first time he was hearing about it.

Now that he thought about it, Yoon Taehee’s quiet table manners made sense. The way he never started talking first unless someone spoke to him, and the strangely composed way he handled meals, almost like a habit worn smooth over time.

Maybe it had come from living at a temple.

“Were you a monk?”

“...”

Yoon Taehee coughed lightly over his food.

“No. Nothing like that. I just had nowhere else to go, so I stayed at one for a few years.”

“When you were a kid?”

“Yeah. When I was young.”

Jaegyeom abruptly realized how little he knew about Yoon Taehee.

Taehee had told him before that he had no parents. He had also said he didn’t know when he was born, and that he had become independent at nineteen.

Now that Jaegyeom thought about it, he didn’t even know where Taehee lived.

“So where do you live now?”

“Highfelis Building B, Unit 1402.”

When Jaegyeom had texted asking for his address, Taehee hadn’t even replied. Yet now he gave the exact unit number without hesitation.

“The door code is 1333.”

At the added comment, Jaegyeom paused with his chopsticks in hand and stared at him.

“If I press that, I can get into your place?”

“Yeah.”

“Who else knows your door code?”

“No one.”

So I’m the only one who knows where Yoon Taehee lives.

It was true. Even the other team members didn’t know.

Thinking about it that way made something strange and faint stir in Jaegyeom’s chest.

He averted his eyes and pretended to stir his rice with his spoon.

Wait.

Did that mean he was the only person who could get inside Yoon Taehee’s home?

“When you get home after work, change the code.”

Jaegyeom suddenly spoke with a serious expression.

“Why?”

“If someone breaks into your place, I’ll look suspicious.”

“...”

“If you go home and everything’s been trashed and your valuables are gone, you’ll obviously suspect me. I’m the only one who knows the code.”

Yoon Taehee quietly rubbed his brow.

This was not what he had expected.

“No. That wouldn’t happen.”

“You never know.”

“I wouldn’t suspect you even if I were robbed.”

“No, I mean me.”

“...”

For a moment, Yoon Taehee was at a loss for words.

He had thought Jaegyeom was worried about being mistaken for a thief.

Apparently, Jaegyeom was saying, I might actually rob your place, so you’d better change it.

“Why? Are you planning to steal something?”

Taehee asked seriously.

“If Jeongju keeps getting no work, I use up all my savings, and I end up broke. Say I go a few days without eating. If I get that desperate, I might break into your place and steal rice or something.”

“...”

“And most importantly, I know you have a lot of money. Breaking into some random house and smashing windows would be a pain. Your place would be easier. I’d feel less bad about it too.”

“...”

After listening in silence, Yoon Taehee asked, “So did you used to steal things back in the day?”

“...”

Caught off guard, Jaegyeom hesitated for a moment before answering honestly.

“Yeah. Back then. But I only went after the biggest tile-roofed houses in the village.”

Yoon Taehee burst out laughing.

Jaegyeom quickly defended himself, saying he had been starving and had no choice. Then he suddenly got angry and added, “You think those rich bastards cared if one sack of rice disappeared from their storehouses? People with plenty should give more.”

The conversation ended with Jaegyeom declaring that people with a lot ought to be more generous.

“Anyway, change the code when you get home.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I want to look forward to it.”

“Look forward to what?”

“That when I come home, maybe you’ll be there.”

Jaegyeom froze with his spoon halfway to his mouth and stared at Yoon Taehee.

Taehee, calm as ever, continued eating quietly with his eyes lowered, his expression unchanged.

“...”

For a moment, Jaegyeom had nothing to say.

He, too, «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» had lived alone once.

His home had always been cold and empty.

He knew too well what it meant for someone to be inside a house.

The conversation paused for a while, and for some reason, his heart started beating faster.

Jaegyeom stirred his rice absentmindedly, trying to change the subject.

“Hey, anyway...”

Maybe because it had been so long since they had spoken properly, Jaegyeom somehow wanted to keep talking to Yoon Taehee.

“What’s the deal with Byeoksadan?”

At the abrupt change of topic, Taehee lifted his eyes.

Jaegyeom still did not know that Taehee was the leader of Byeoksadan.

Nor did he know that Byeoksadan was part of Taehee’s attempt to disrupt the Office of Narye.

There was a simple reason Yoon Taehee had not told Jaegyeom about Byeoksadan.

He had originally sought a successor because he needed someone to steal his wooden tag. Once that successor retrieved it, their role would be over. They would leave the game.

From the beginning, what Yoon Taehee wanted was not a partner in his plan.

It was a piece.

Something to be used and discarded.

That had been clear from the moment he designed the plan.

Yoon Taehee did not trust people.

Jaegyeom was no exception.

He trusted Jaegyeom’s strength and ability. But as a human being inside this game, he could not trust him.

When Paehyeon had asked why he would not tell Jaegyeom, Taehee had answered, “With what trust?”

He had meant it.

On top of that, Jaegyeom was always an unpredictable variable.

He had hidden his meeting with Seok Juryeon.

He got along well with the Team 1 members he saw every day, and for some reason, he also seemed needlessly close to Im Hyomun. The fact that they met separately outside work meant they were already fairly close.

And Yoon Taehee knew well that Jaegyeom had a surprisingly soft side.

Even during their brief time at school, Jaegyeom had grown attached to Jo Youngwoo.

During the battle in the mountains, despite his deep hostility toward the Naja, Jaegyeom had hesitated at the decisive moment instead of firing his arrow at Taehee.

That was why Yoon Taehee could not trust him.

If Jaegyeom were a piece on a chessboard, he was a piece powerful enough to shake the entire board.

And now, he had even begun shaking Yoon Taehee himself.

That made him uneasy.

Still, it was true that Taehee was anxious.

To keep any more variables from moving, it might be better to tell Jaegyeom.

While Taehee sank into thought, Jaegyeom lowered his voice and added,

“You remember how the poster said the Bangsangsi was coming back? What happens if that’s true? What if he comes back and says, ‘This was mine all along,’ and returns to the Office of Narye?”

A few days earlier, when Im Hyomun had asked what Jaegyeom thought about Byeoksadan, Jaegyeom hadn’t had any real opinion.

Of course, when he first deciphered the poster, he had wondered what would happen if the Bangsangsi really came back. But soon enough, he had forgotten about it because he was more worried Seok Juryeon would discover his secret and question him about how he knew about the Bangsangsi.

That day, Seok Juryeon had ordered the posters destroyed and imposed a gag order.

Yet somehow, the rumor that “the Bangsangsi, the original owner of the Office of Narye, has returned” had already spread widely among the Naja.

They were unsettled, wondering what sort of plot the ghosts were hatching in such large numbers. But in the end, the prevailing opinion settled on one conclusion: the leader of Byeoksadan was impersonating the Bangsangsi to sow chaos.

Jaegyeom, however, was not especially interested.

After all, the Office of Narye hunted ghosts relentlessly. It made sense for ghosts to resent them. That was only natural.

Even if ghosts attacked the Office or came into conflict with it, it had nothing to do with him. He figured they could sort out their own problems.

But one thing had started bothering him.

If the Bangsangsi truly returned, what would happen to the mask that had originally belonged to the Bangsangsi, but was now in the director’s possession?

“That mask the director has... it used to belong to the Bangsangsi, right? Then if the Bangsangsi gets it back before we can do anything, wouldn’t that ruin our plan?”

Yoon Taehee froze with his spoon halfway raised.

He stared blankly at Jaegyeom, his eyes revealing nothing.

Jaegyeom asked again.

“Hey. Why aren’t you answering?”

“...There’s no way that’ll happen.”

The answer came much later.

“Probably.”