Chapter 208

Baekgyeong had dragged a one-seater sofa up to the window and sat like a loyal dog guarding its master, staring at Room 215 where Siron was staying. For three hours he hadn’t moved.

No light seeped out from behind the drawn curtains. Siron must have been asleep.

Nearby, in Room 218 where Isaac was staying, the lights were still on. Like Baekgyeong, he too was keeping vigil, listening for any sign of Siron through the night. Isaac’s presence was irritating and uncomfortable, but when it came to protecting Siron, he was—unavoidably—a solid line of defense.

“Tonight will pass safely.”

Sleepiness tugged at him, and Baekgyeong forced his eyelids open, trying to hold on. Still, the drowsiness clung stubbornly. He dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

I was wrong.

The moment he entered his password, a cold wind seemed to rise from the ruins inside his chest. Lowering his gaze, he struggled to smother the chill that seeped into him like frost. He opened the message app, scrolling down to the point where he had stopped reading.

#By now you must be wondering why I made you solve eleven difficult riddles. Why such a cumbersome process? Surely because the reward must be something extraordinary. You must have hoped for that.

Yes. I left you an inheritance quite impressive. Something no one else in this world could give you—only Choi Baekhee.

#Through those eleven codes, I confessed to you that even though I bore you with pain, I could not love you. And I begged your forgiveness.

As indifferent as I was to you all my life, be just as indifferent to me.

I only hope you received my death with coldness. But if you felt even a little sorrow, then perhaps our mother-son bond was not wholly bad.

The letter from his mother ended there.

For years, the emotion that had ruled Baekgyeong was anger. Now, faced with this alien feeling, he had no idea what to call it. All he could truly feel was the loss of any chance to understand her, to seek forgiveness.

He knew instinctively that his feelings toward his mother would remain unresolved for the rest of his life. Staring blankly at his phone, dulled into a numbness like the power had been shut off inside him, he glanced again at Room 215. Still no change. No suspicious figures loitered nearby. If things continued like this, it would all pass without incident until morning. And yet, unless he heard Siron’s quiet breathing with his own ears, he could not rest easy.

He got up and walked outside.

Taking the outdoor iron stairs up to the second floor, he was twenty meters from Room 215 when he heard noise. Furniture being dragged. The sound came from inside 215. Then came a muffled cry, smothered as if beneath a blanket.

Baekgyeong felt his blood run cold.

He sprinted at full speed to Room 215. The door was locked. He didn’t hesitate—he lunged at the window, smashed the glass with his elbow, reached in, and unlatched it.

Inside, the bed was empty. The door was barricaded from within by the sofa.

Heart pounding, he rushed to the bathroom. The door wouldn’t budge. Something blocked it.

“Fuck!”

He inhaled sharply, then slammed his shoulder against the door with his full weight. Twice he struck, and on the third hit the wood cracked, buckled, and burst inward.

From beyond the wide-open window came the slam of a car door. Baekgyeong, plunging into darkness, caught sight of a black pickup speeding away. He smashed the window frame with his fist.

“Isaac! You son of a bitch!”

He charged out like a madman, kicking open the door of Room 218 where Isaac was.

But Isaac was sprawled on the floor. He must have collapsed suddenly, hitting the coffee table on the way down—the small speaker resting on it was shattered. That speaker had been connected to the bug in Siron’s room.

“What the hell is this... I’m going insane!”

No time for this. He frantically searched the room. No car keys. Snarling, Baekgyeong shoved his hand into Isaac’s jacket. His fingers brushed not keys, but the body of a pistol—when suddenly a steel grip clamped onto his wrist.

In the blink of an eye his arm was twisted back and he was slammed face-first into the floor.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing.”

Isaac straddled him, hand at his throat, irritation sharp in his voice. Baekgyeong struggled, rasping out words between choked breaths.

“F... fuck—he... kidnapped... Siron!”

Isaac’s grip released. Baekgyeong shoved him off, leaping to his feet, and kicked him savagely.

“Haah... the car keys! Give me the damn keys, bastard!”

Isaac’s face hardened. For the first time, Baekgyeong saw something stir in those ice-cold eyes. Without a word, Isaac snatched up his bag and bolted. Moments later, an engine roared to life before the car door even shut. Baekgyeong climbed into the passenger seat just as Isaac floored the accelerator. The car screamed down the road.

Isaac pushed the narrow back road past 100 km/h. Baekgyeong had no breath left for accusations. The silence between them was suffocating, every nerve straining to locate the vehicle that had taken Siron.

Finally, far ahead on the endless eastbound highway, they saw a point of light.

Humans could only see car lights at around 2 km in the dark. Alphas—perhaps 4 km. And at their speed, it grew nearer shockingly fast.

“The lights aren’t moving.”

“I see that!”

Isaac slowed down cautiously. A pickup truck had run off the road into a harvested cornfield. And on the highway ahead, staggering toward their headlights, came a figure.

Siron.

“Yoon Siron!”

Baekgyeong leapt out before the car fully stopped, running to him.

Siron’s state was shocking—blood ran from his forehead, his tear-swollen eyes were puffed red, his mouth and arms bound tight with tape.

“You—what the hell happened to you!”

Tears of rage shone at the corners of Baekgyeong’s eyes. His face was torn with fear so raw he couldn’t even think thank God you’re alive. Siron stumbled and collapsed into his arms, then, suddenly frantic, pointed behind him.

“Behind...?”

Baekgyeong followed his gaze. In the fringe of their headlights, a body lay sprawled by the roadside embankment.

“That bastard did this to you?”

Siron’s eyes were wide, bewildered, but he managed a nod. The man who had kidnapped him was crumpled on the ground, unmoving, as if dead.

Siron’s heart lurched. Just moments ago the man had been bellowing, charging after him like a beast.

When he wrenched the wheel in the car, Siron hadn’t cared if the man lived or died. But had he truly intended to kill him? No. Not really.

Baekgyeong studied Siron’s terrified face, dissecting it, then said firmly:

“Stay here. Wait.”

Siron wanted to follow, to see with his own eyes whether the man was dead, but he had no courage left. He could only stare blankly as Baekgyeong bent over the body.

Then footsteps approached. Siron turned. Isaac stood there, haloed in their headlights, his features blurred by shadow until he stepped close.

With a knife, he slipped the blade under the tape on Siron’s wrists and cut outward carefully. Freed, Siron tore off the bindings on his arms and face, heedless of the pain.

“You’re late. I failed to protect you. I’m sorry.”

Isaac’s eyes were faintly shaded, but otherwise he looked utterly unharmed. Siron froze in disbelief. They’d only been two rooms apart. There had even been a bug beside his bed.

You made me an omega. You owed it to me to protect me with everything you had!

Rage flared inside him like fire, unbearable unless he unleashed it on him.

But then—

“That man reeked of death.”

The words the kidnapper had muttered still echoed. And because of them, even now, Siron couldn’t bring himself to hate Isaac completely.

“Forget it. I’m alive.”

His cold words silenced Isaac, who had opened his mouth as if to speak. Passing him, Isaac walked to the collapsed man. He flicked on a flashlight, scanning the scene carefully, then knelt and checked the man’s breath. After a long moment, he straightened and looked back at Siron. His expression was grim.

Reluctantly, Siron edged closer.

“He’s dead.”

Siron’s eyes widened. A strangled gasp escaped him.

“He... he’s not breathing? Really?”

“Too clean a death. What do we do with the body? Burn the truck first?”

Baekgyeong’s question drew a curt warning from Isaac.

“Both of you, stay here.”

Isaac climbed down into the field. He squatted in front of the wrecked pickup, peering inside. White smoke hissed through the cracked hood, the air thick with fuel stench.

He moved to the truck’s side, picked up a severed corn stalk, set it alight, and tossed it onto the oil-soaked ground. Fire raced across the dirt in an instant, swallowing the vehicle. The hymns still echoing from within choked and died, leaving only the crackle of flames in the silent night.

Just two days ago, Siron had been scratching Baekgyeong’s back by a campfire, drowsy in peace. Now he felt hurled onto a completely different path of life. The future ahead of him was nothing but darkness.