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    Chapter 107

    Tears began to flow again, blurring his vision. Only after they streamed down and cleared his view did the realization hit him like a wave—that he had to face reality, step out from the aftermath of the memories he had just relived. Jaeha struggled to regain his composure.

    Bang!

    He fired the gun again. But soon, Jaeha judged that shooting at the President was pointless and threw the gun aside. It was because the man had effortlessly dodged the bullets. Immediately afterward, their bodies collided with a metallic clang. He barely managed to raise his arm and block the man’s punch, but the powerful impact and pain that felt as if his arm had exploded made Jaeha grit his teeth.

    “Ugh…!”

    Jaeha’s body was flung toward the wall. The blow pierced through him as if such a flimsy defense meant nothing. It didn’t feel like any bones were broken, but beneath his skin, his muscles and ligaments twisted and screamed in agony.

    The breath knocked from his lungs stopped midway through a groan and broke off in his throat, leaving only a scratchy, unpleasant sound echoing in the space.

    Staggering, Jaeha tried to steady himself. But he couldn’t keep his balance. His chin trembled, and his fingers started to go numb and stiffen. The President still said nothing. He simply walked toward him silently with his intimidating frame.

    Was he like this back then too? Did he wear the same indifferent expression when he killed my parents?

    The distance between them closed easily, and the man swung his fist again.

    Thud!

    “Gah…!”

    This time, there wasn’t even a moment to react. The blow seemed aimed at his chin but instead struck just under it, glancing past his face. Jaeha lost his balance and collapsed to the side. His toes left the floor, and his body slammed hard into the rebar-lined inner wall.

    Thump!

    A sharp, tearing pain seared beneath his ribs. His fingertips went numb, and it became difficult even to straighten his back.

    His lips trembled. Every breath ignited a spark of pain inside his chest cavity, spreading like fire. He tried holding his breath, thinking maybe the pain would subside, but it crept out persistently with every breath, pressing against the inside of his mouth.

    Jaeha adjusted his posture again and pushed himself up. Though the pain near his ribs bent his body, he forced his back straight and met the man’s gaze. That, for Jaeha, was a fairly brave attempt. He was painfully aware of how pathetic that effort was, but still


    “

”

    His breathing grew ragged. And then the real clash began as the President charged at him again.

    This time, Jaeha struck first. He swung a low kick aimed at the man’s side. But the man didn’t dodge. Instead, he accepted the low kick and bent his upper body, slamming his knee ruthlessly into Jaeha’s abdomen. His body, which couldn’t feel pain, seemed built for combat, and even a successful hit only left Jaeha with a hollow sense of futility.

    The knee shattered into his stomach like a wrecking ball.

    “Urgh…!”

    His insides churned as though he was about to vomit. Jaeha instinctively tried to retreat, but the man didn’t let go. He grabbed the nape of Jaeha’s neck and slammed him down to the floor.

    “…!”

    Just before he hit the ground, Jaeha twisted his waist to regain balance. At the same time, he struck out with a knife-hand aimed at the man’s jaw. He clenched his teeth and hit, but the man’s head didn’t even flinch. He merely curled the corner of his lips in a sneer.

    The arm came again. This time, the President’s knife-hand struck Jaeha’s right cheekbone hard.

    Smack. Smack, smack!

    Three consecutive strikes—not punches, but knife-hands—precisely targeted nerve-dense areas with brutal accuracy. The pain made Jaeha’s eyes roll back. His head snapped sideways, and his vision scattered momentarily.

    The taste of blood spread in his mouth. His tongue, caught between his molars, seemed to have torn slightly.

    As Jaeha lay staggering on the floor, the President’s shadow loomed over him. As if it were the most natural thing in the world, the man pressed his knee onto Jaeha’s shoulder.

    Crack.

    He twisted Jaeha’s arm and pinned it down as if to ensure he wouldn’t get up again. The man’s body was neither hot nor cold, but it was firm and heavy. Not just through strength, but through sheer presence, he suppressed Jaeha. And what that meant to Jaeha was immense. It was more than physical pressure. It was the psychological dominance built from years of fear and submission. To Jaeha, that was even heavier and deeper


    “Pres… ident
”

    Had he been foolish to resist? Despite having fully betrayed the President, Jaeha irrationally feared what if the man hated him, found him disgusting. The shadow cast by his presence devoured Jaeha whole.

    That familiar fear and sense of submission crept over Jaeha again. And with it came a wave of self-loathing at the fact that he could feel such emotions toward the person who killed his parents. The sound of the gunshots still echoed vividly in his ears. Bang, bang. Just two shots. His ears rang. It hurt.

    “

”

    The fight had felt like an eternity to Jaeha, but in truth, it had lasted barely ten seconds.

    He had never even imagined that he could fight the President on equal terms. Still, the fact that his betrayal hadn’t even made a meaningful impact left him feeling wretched.

    Just as the President moved his lips, about to say something, it wasn’t his faint breathy voice that captured Jaeha’s ears—but the sharp crack of gunfire.

    Bang!

    With a flash of silence, something shattered against the wall. Sharp fragments scattered through the air.

    “…!”

    Hot blood suddenly splattered across Jaeha’s face, and he reflexively clenched his eyes shut. He knew instantly the President had been shot. Where was he hit? The shoulder?

    The funny thing was, just moments ago, his mind had been crumbling with helplessness and fear—but a single gunshot snapped it back into clarity. The fact that the President had been shot should have been a world-shaking event for Jaeha. But strangely, something else now felt more important.

    Strength returned to his half-lidded eyes. Aiden. It was Aiden. He must’ve been too close to shoot earlier and had finally seized the chance. How dangerous… It would’ve been better if he had just run away.

    “Stop messing with my boyfriend.”

    Jaeha rolled his eyes toward where Aiden was, trying to catch a glimpse. But Aiden’s face was obscured by the President’s shoulder. Jaeha wanted to see his face—but at the same time, guilt crept in for not being able to protect him, for forcing him to intervene in the end.

    “

”

    The President showed no reaction. When Jaeha, face smeared with blood, blinked his eyes open again, the first thing he saw was the man’s upper shoulder. The bullet seemed to have gone straight through. Blood dripped from his waist and collar, soaking his clothes, and the area around the hole spread with an ugly stain.

    The shoulder trembled slightly as a reflex, but that was all.

    “Baek Beomwoo. I told you to back off.”

    The President’s hand suddenly lunged forward. His movement wasn’t rough, but it was swift and firm. Staring at Jaeha’s blood-covered face, he brushed it as if to smooth it out, then grabbed Jaeha’s head. More blood spilled from the unstaunched wound on his shoulder, but since he didn’t feel pain, he moved without hesitation.

    “Urgh…!”

    “Damn it, you sure love gorging on that guiding!”

    From a distance, Aiden’s shout rang out. The voice cutting through Jaeha’s dulled ears sounded strangely unfamiliar. And so, Jaeha, in a rare moment, realized Aiden was flustered.

    Bang!

    Bang!

    Gunshots rang out again. This time, the bullet struck the wall, but only one hit. As blood slowly spread across the President’s lower back, it became clear that the second bullet hadn’t gone through but lodged inside him.

    Jaeha struggled to move his eyes. One of Aiden’s bullets, aimed precisely at the head, had missed slightly, grazing the temple and leaving a wound because the man had dodged easily.

    Jaeha inhaled sharply—but it was too late. The hand still gripping his head slammed it down without hesitation.

    Thud!

    “Ugh…!”

    The dull thud echoed through the entire room. Even though it wasn’t a marble floor, the impact sounded like a hammer strike. His forehead smashed directly into the floor. His vision immediately blackened and twisted. The scene before him warped like torn paper.

    He reflexively reached out to steady himself on the floor, but he couldn’t find balance and collapsed again. A ringing buzz echoed in his ears. A scream rose from his chest but didn’t escape through his throat. As if his breath had been knocked out, his mouth gasped noiselessly.

    The man’s hand still clutched Jaeha’s head. Jaeha was pinned to the floor, unable to lift his head. But for some reason, he could tell the President was putting considerable force into that hand.

    “You’re the one who needs to stop guiding so damn much.”

    Finally, words spilled from the President’s mouth. His rough voice, scratched by strain, was unlike anything Jaeha had ever heard from him. Frustrated, pained, tormented, worn down… Whatever it was, it was neither a command nor a plea.

    “Unless you want to see this kid’s head ripped off.”

    And somehow, that shocked Jaeha. Did that make him a hypocrite? The President had always pretended to care about him, and Jaeha had known it—and shamelessly taken advantage of that fact. Sure, there had been a time when the President had considered killing him, and Jaeha had read that thought. But now that the threat was real, it didn’t feel real.

    The pressure on his skull made him believe it might genuinely crack. Was the President serious? Was he really…?

    Aiden, just like he had done to Eunyul, seemed to be trying to put the President to sleep. Jaeha could feel it too—the overwhelming tide of guiding flowing through the President’s body, like a tsunami. But this wasn’t the gentle, perfect guiding Aiden usually gave him. This was violent and excruciating, painful just to receive.

    The President clenched his teeth as if being tortured. Despite being shot, he hadn’t flinched—but now he gripped Jaeha’s head as if to crush it, and stumbled slightly, unable to steady himself. That terrified Jaeha. He was so unlike his usual self that it became impossible to predict what he might do.

    “Even third-rate villains don’t go this far…”

    “

”

    “Fucking hell. Let go.”

    Instead of letting go, the President only gripped tighter, and Aiden, seeing this, loaded another round into his gun, ready to fire again.

    That was when it happened.

     

     

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