Honbul: Flame of the Soul

Jaegyeom stopped in his tracks and stood there blankly before finally parting his lips.

“Yoon Taehee.”

At the sound of his voice, Yoon Taehee looked up.

He had been slouched back in the chair with his head lowered, idly tapping his fingers. The moment he spotted Jaegyeom, he flinched slightly and straightened.

“......”

Yoon Taehee stared at him silently for a while before faintly furrowing his brows.

“Did you get caught in the rain?”

Jaegyeom said nothing.

The hospital corridor was quiet at this hour past midnight.

Yoon Taehee abruptly rose to his feet and approached him.

“Where did you go? Why weren’t you answering your phone?”

That was what Jaegyeom should have been asking.

He pulled his phone from his soaked clothes. Several missed calls from Yoon Taehee were lined up one after another only minutes apart. Judging by the time stamps, Taehee must have called while Jaegyeom was walking from headquarters back to the hospital.

After meeting Suhyang, his mind had been in such chaos that he had not even realized his phone was ringing.

“......”

Jaegyeom slowly looked Yoon Taehee over from head to toe.

Thankfully, he seemed unharmed.

Completely fine.

Exactly the same as always.

Still, dressed entirely in black, he looked more subdued and solemn than usual. At the same time, there was something strangely lonely about him.

Just then, Yoon Taehee lowered his head slightly to meet Jaegyeom’s eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

The moment their gazes met, Jaegyeom’s pupils shook violently.

An indescribable sense of devastation washed over him.

He did not know what to say.

Maybe it was because he was soaked through, but it felt as though he were trapped underwater inside a fishbowl. Breathing was difficult. His chest felt painfully tight.

His thoughts were a complete mess.

He felt nauseous.

Truths he had spent so long trying and failing to digest had risen all the way to the back of his throat. It felt like the moment he opened his mouth, he would vomit everything out.

There was so much he wanted to say.

Yet he could not say a single word.

How could he possibly say it?

That he had met the Director of the Office of Narye.

That the Director was Suhyang, someone who should have died long ago.

That she had lured Cho Youngwoo to her side.

That Suhyang knew everything, and their plan had already failed.

That Suhyang had offered to kill him.

And—

Isn’t it you who knows nothing?

That Yoon Taehee might be the master of the Byeoksadan.

“......”

Jaegyeom pressed his lips tightly together.

Suhyang’s voice echoed through his head like an auditory hallucination. He had tried desperately to shake it off, but the sly, snake-like voice clung to him relentlessly.

What do you know about that child?

Earlier, Suhyang had said:

Looking back, I wonder if there has ever been a time this chaotic. The Office of Narye was once as impregnable as a fortress. Yet now traitors have appeared both inside and outside it at the same time. Quite the coincidence, isn’t it?

At first, he had wondered where she was trying to lead the conversation.

More than anything, he had simply disliked hearing her speak about Yoon Taehee so carelessly.

Could it be... that child Taehee is behind all of this?

What nonsense are you talking about?

But what came after that had been truly absurd.

For some reason, I found myself wondering whether that child might be the one leading the Byeoksadan.

The claim had been so ridiculously outrageous that Jaegyeom unconsciously held his breath.

Sometimes, trying to think from another person’s perspective broadens your view. So I wondered... what if I were that child, Taehee?

After a brief pause, Suhyang lowered her voice conspiratorially, her eyes curving faintly.

You are an extremely desirable existence, aren’t you? You neither die nor age, and you possess power greater than anyone else’s. With someone like you, there is nothing in this world that cannot be accomplished. If I were that child, I would cling to you no matter what. How could anyone possibly let go of something with infinite value?

“......”

So I simply wondered whether that child might be deceiving you.

“......”

And besides, they say the master of the Byeoksadan always conceals his identity. Doesn’t that make the story sound plausible?

“......”

Haha. What a frightening expression. It is merely speculation on my part. I only brought it up in hopes that it might help you make your decision, so I hope you do not misunderstand.

Jaegyeom had tried not to let Suhyang’s words affect him.

He repeatedly told himself it was nothing more than a ploy to drive a wedge between him and Yoon Taehee through baseless suspicion.

But deep inside, fear had already begun to rise.

The reason things had fallen apart between him and Myojeong in the past was because Suhyang had told him the truth.

She never fabricated lies.

She simply exposed truths that had been hidden.

Cut the crap.

That was why, even after saying those words, Jaegyeom still could not dismiss Suhyang’s claims as complete nonsense.

In any case, my desire to grant you rest is sincere. I hope you will think about it carefully. Of course, your mind must be in turmoil right now. I’ll give you a week. Let us meet again once you have made your decision.

The experienced Suhyang had seen straight through Jaegyeom’s heart.

The boy had not immediately accepted her offer to kill him.

His hesitation had been obvious.

Most likely, he was worried about what would happen to Yoon Taehee after his revenge failed.

If they were merely partners joined together for mutual benefit, then each should simply pursue their own goal and separate without regret.

Feelings like this were troublesome.

Just as she expected, the boy was soft-hearted and weak.

Considering how deeply shaken he had become over Cho Youngwoo—a boy he had known only a few months—it was hardly surprising.

If Yoon Taehee was the reason Jaegyeom hesitated to die, then all she needed to do was remove that obstacle.

Of course, eliminating him immediately would only earn Jaegyeom’s ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) hatred.

So instead, she would make the boy abandon Yoon Taehee himself.

She only needed to cast the bait and wait for him to turn away on his own.

Now that the seed of doubt had been planted, it would naturally grow and crumble everything over time.

Suhyang was certain Jaegyeom would waver.

And her prediction had been perfectly accurate.

Just as Yoon Taehee had once struggled between revenge and Jaegyeom, Jaegyeom now found himself hesitating between Yoon Taehee’s revenge and his own death.

Truthfully, he would be lying if he claimed Suhyang’s offer had not tempted him.

The Bangsangsi mask was already in Suhyang’s possession.

An entirely unexpected path had opened before him.

The reason he had taken Yoon Taehee’s hand in the first place was because Taehee had promised him death in return.

Since they had joined forces for their own separate goals, it would not have been strange for him to accept immediately.

And yet—

Suhyang’s offer felt sudden.

Unsettling.

In truth, if he thought about it calmly, there was no reason for him to care what happened after his death.

Which was exactly why he himself could not understand it.

Why didn’t I agree to die right there?

After leaving the Director’s office, Jaegyeom had wandered aimlessly through the rain.

He wanted to escape the chaos inside his head.

But one thing continued to bother him.

I wondered whether that child might be leading the Byeoksadan.

At first, he thought it was absurd.

But something about it kept catching in his mind.

The Leader he met in Gongju had reacted strangely to the veil covering his face.

And now that he thought about it, he had always found it odd that Yoon Taehee—a man obsessively meticulous by nature—was strangely lax whenever the Byeoksadan were involved.

Then another memory surfaced.

The intelligent ghost he had encountered in the library.

At the time, Yoon Taehee had casually mentioned that he knew an intelligent ghost personally.

“......”

Jaegyeom pressed his lips together hard.

The moment he saw Yoon Taehee, his heart inevitably wavered.

At this rate, he was no different from how he used to be with Myojeong.

After a long silence, Jaegyeom finally spoke.

“When did you get here?”

At the question, Yoon Taehee casually checked the time on his wristwatch.

“About an hour ago.”

When he arrived, Jaegyeom was gone.

A nurse had told him Jaegyeom stepped out briefly, but after that he stopped answering his phone, so Taehee had simply waited outside the room the entire time.

“Why didn’t you answer your phone all day?”

“I left it in the car.”

Before Yoon Taehee could even finish answering, Jaegyeom immediately pressed him again, almost interrogating him.

“Then where were you? What were you doing until now?”

Sensing something strange, Yoon Taehee quietly studied him.

“I was at headquarters dealing with the cleanup afterward.”

As he answered, he slid his hands into his pockets.

“Why did you come here?”

“You weren’t answering your phone. I thought something might’ve happened.”

A brief silence fell between them.

Then Jaegyeom spoke again.

“What about you?”

“What?”

“Why did you come? To Gongju.”

Yoon Taehee’s face remained expressionless.

“......”

After a moment, Jaegyeom slowly lifted his head.

“I told you already. I wanted to see for myself what kind of people the Byeoksadan are.”

As he said it, Jaegyeom stared directly at him.

“......”

Yoon Taehee’s eyes narrowed slightly.

The gaze fixed on him felt unfamiliar.

As though he were looking at an entirely different person.

Something was wrong.

Jaegyeom was being strangely persistent today, and his expression was impossible to read.

“Come with me for a minute. I need to talk to you.”

Jaegyeom tilted his chin slightly as he spoke, then walked right past him.

Yoon Taehee silently followed.

The place Jaegyeom headed toward was an empty hospital room.

As soon as Yoon Taehee stepped inside, Jaegyeom closed the door behind them.

The room was dark.

No lights were on.

Without a word, Yoon Taehee reached toward the wall, searching for the switch.

Before he could turn the lights on, Jaegyeom grabbed his wrist.

As though telling him not to.

Yoon Taehee paused briefly and turned to look back at him.

The two stood there silently in the darkness, staring at one another.

Then, after a long moment, Jaegyeom finally spoke in a low voice.

“Take off your clothes.”