Honbul: Flame of the Soul

Having finished explaining the plan, Yoon Taehee gathered up the documents and stood. Glancing at his watch, he saw it was already past three in the afternoon.

“Have you eaten?” he asked.

Jaegyeom, who had started getting up after him, shook his head.

“No. Not yet.”

Now that Taehee mentioned it, he realized he’d completely skipped lunch. He’d been too worried about Yoon Taehee to think about food and had rushed over without a second thought.

“Then let’s eat before we head to headquarters.”

Jaegyeom hesitated.

They were already late, so Taehee was probably suggesting they grab something simple before leaving. The idea of sitting down alone with him felt uncomfortable enough that Jaegyeom almost refused immediately.

But before he could answer, Yoon Taehee added lightly,

“If you’d rather not, then forget it.”

The way he cleanly stepped back somehow made refusing harder.

“......”

In the end, Jaegyeom gave a small nod.

Yoon Taehee opened the refrigerator and took out a few ingredients. Jaegyeom had assumed they would order delivery or eat out somewhere, but Taehee simply moved into the kitchen and started cooking without another word.

While he cooked, Jaegyeom had nothing to do.

If there had at least been a television, he could have pretended to watch it, but the apartment contained nothing except books. Wandering into the living room, he randomly pulled one from a shelf and flipped through it without really reading. From the kitchen came the steady rhythm of chopping. Yoon Taehee seemed surprisingly practiced at cooking.

Not long afterward, Taehee finished with alarming speed and set a plate down on the dining table.

Jaegyeom, who had been aimlessly pacing the living room, sat down.

Fried rice.

“Can you eat this?” Yoon Taehee asked.

Jaegyeom nodded.

It wasn’t just edible. It was good.

This was the first time he had ever eaten food Yoon Taehee cooked himself.

Come to think of it, it had also been a long time since they’d sat across from each other like this and talked properly over a meal.

And it was the first time they had eaten together in complete silence.

Other than the occasional clink of utensils, neither of them spoke. The awkwardness was suffocating.

Trying to ignore it, Jaegyeom focused on moving his spoon while mentally reviewing the plan Taehee had explained earlier. But halfway through the meal, a thought suddenly occurred to him.

“The timing’s bad.”

Poking absently at the rice, Jaegyeom spoke without looking up.

Yoon Taehee lifted his eyes.

“Headquarters has been tense lately because of Byeoksadan.”

At the unexpected mention of Byeoksadan coming from Jaegyeom, Yoon Taehee’s hand stopped briefly around his spoon.

But because his head was lowered, Jaegyeom failed to notice.

“Security’s tighter than before.”

Not long ago, Byeoksadan had attacked the Gyeongju branch in the middle of the night. Ever since then, the atmosphere throughout headquarters had become suffocatingly tense.

After wiping out an entire branch, Byeoksadan had openly declared war, announcing that they would destroy the Gongju branch during Chilseok.

As a result, security inside and outside headquarters had tightened dramatically.

“You’re right.”

As he spoke, Jaegyeom began to feel uneasy.

Was it really safe to steal the wooden tag at a time like this?

“Is it really okay to go ahead with the plan now?”

After a brief silence, Yoon Taehee answered as calmly as ever.

“Depending on how you look at it, this could actually be an opportunity.”

“An opportunity?”

“Yes. If all attention is focused on Byeoksadan, it may actually be easier to steal the wooden tag.”

Jaegyeom’s expression turned thoughtful.

“I guess that’s true.”

Hearing it phrased that way, it did make sense.

At some point, Jaegyeom himself had started paying close attention to Byeoksadan. Part of it was because everyone at headquarters talked about them constantly after the branch attack.

But the real beginning had been something else entirely.

Bima’s suggestion that he seek Byeoksadan out himself.

“But before, you said Byeoksadan wouldn’t ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) interfere with our plan.”

Ever since seeing the poster announcing the Bangsangsi’s return, Jaegyeom had wondered whether Byeoksadan and the Bangsangsi were connected somehow. He had brought it up once before, but Yoon Taehee had immediately dismissed the idea as impossible, so Jaegyeom had stopped thinking about it seriously.

But the situation had changed.

At some point, rumors had begun spreading both inside and outside the Office of Narye that the Bangsangsi was the true master of Byeoksadan.

Then, during the attack on the Gyeongju branch, Byeoksadan themselves had openly declared:

“Our master is the Bangsangsi. We will restore the Bangsangsi to its rightful place.”

“What if,” Jaegyeom asked slowly, “the Bangsangsi really is behind Byeoksadan?”

Yoon Taehee shook his head as though he’d expected the question.

“No. That’s impossible.”

“Why? They said it themselves this time.”

“Exactly. Which makes it even less believable.”

Resting his chin lightly against one hand, Yoon Taehee spoke in an indifferent tone.

“The Bangsangsi is essentially a god. Why would something like that need to gather ghosts and stir up trouble this way? More likely, the ghosts in Byeoksadan simply resent humans or the Office of Narye. Invoking the Bangsangsi is probably just a way to create unrest inside the Office.”

Deliberately, Yoon Taehee made himself sound unconcerned.

Later, when he used Byeoksadan to spirit away the mask, he needed people to believe he had been caught off guard and overwhelmed. To make that believable, he first had to establish the image that he had underestimated them from the start.

“Then what do you think Byeoksadan actually wants?”

“They probably want to destroy the Office of Narye and take humanity’s place.”

Jaegyeom frowned faintly at how unconcerned Taehee sounded.

Destroying the Office of Narye was supposed to be Yoon Taehee’s role.

Not Byeoksadan’s.

“Fine. I understand what you mean. But if their goal is really to destroy the Office, then that overlaps with ours. What if they move first?”

“The Office of Narye won’t collapse that easily.”

Yoon Taehee’s tone remained perfectly level.

“Especially not to ghosts.”

Even if Byeoksadan attacked headquarters directly, they would never be able to truly breach the Office itself.

“So you don’t need to worry about Byeoksadan.”

Jaegyeom said nothing.

Watching his face carefully, Yoon Taehee tilted his head slightly and asked with a faint smile,

“Why? Are you nervous?”

After a long pause, Jaegyeom shook his head.

But Yoon Taehee noticed it anyway.

Jaegyeom still hadn’t completely shaken the sense of unease lodged in the back of his mind.

Exactly as intended.

Attacking the Gyeongju branch had been a good decision.

Good because it had made Jaegyeom conscious of Byeoksadan.

Compared to before, he was clearly paying attention to them now.

Yoon Taehee wanted him anxious.

He wanted Jaegyeom to continue thinking of Byeoksadan as a dangerous variable.

With a troubled expression, Jaegyeom silently continued eating.

And so their first meal together in a long time ended beneath a heavy silence. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

“That was good.”

Just as Jaegyeom pushed his chair back to stand, a phone suddenly rang somewhere in the apartment.

“One moment.”

It was Yoon Taehee’s phone.

Taking it with him, Taehee disappeared into the bedroom to answer the call.

Left alone at the cleared dining table, Jaegyeom moved over to the sofa to wait. But several minutes passed, and Yoon Taehee still didn’t come back out. The call seemed to be dragging on.

Flipping absently through a book on the sofa, Jaegyeom sank into thought.

If everything failed and he ended up trapped in a state where he couldn’t die, then he intended to seek out Byeoksadan and ask them to seal away this life of his.

But that was separate from the current problem.

If Byeoksadan interfered with Yoon Taehee’s revenge, that would be an issue.

Right now, the important thing was ensuring that everything proceeded according to Taehee’s plan.

But Yoon Taehee himself seemed strangely unconcerned about Byeoksadan.

It felt unlike him.

At the same time, Jaegyeom understood that with the plan finally approaching its conclusion, Taehee probably couldn’t afford to divert attention elsewhere.

Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

His thoughts tangled together chaotically.

Resting the book against his stomach, Jaegyeom closed his eyes.

“The call took longer than I expected...”

When Yoon Taehee finally emerged from the bedroom, Jaegyeom had fallen asleep leaning against the sofa.

Taehee stopped mid-sentence.

Without realizing it himself, Jaegyeom must have drifted off while waiting. His head had tilted sideways, and one of Taehee’s books remained loosely caught between his fingers. He had looked tired earlier, and apparently he truly had been.

“......”

Yoon Taehee stood motionless, staring at the sleeping Jaegyeom.

For a long while he remained there without moving, as though rooted in place.

Then his gaze slowly shifted toward the broad glass windows.

Outside, evening twilight had begun settling over the city.

Only after confirming Jaegyeom was fully asleep did Yoon Taehee finally approach him.

He had spent all this time carefully maintaining distance between them.

Now, quietly sitting beside him, Taehee gently removed the book from Jaegyeom’s hand so he wouldn’t wake him.

His eyes lingered on the page Jaegyeom had stopped at.

Then, almost like preserving a keepsake, he slid the ribbon marker carefully into place before closing the book.

“Jaegyeom.”

At some point, while staring at the sleeping man’s face, Yoon Taehee quietly spoke.

“This is deception.”

His voice was barely above a whisper.

The words never reached Jaegyeom.

It didn’t matter if Jaegyeom eventually broke.

Yoon Taehee wanted him to remain forever at his side, ignorant and unhappy.

And until the sun fully disappeared and the shadows of twilight stretched long across the room, Yoon Taehee continued watching him sleep.