'Zhenya.'
The skin under his eyes tightened, and the fine hairs on his ears stood on end.
'Zhenya.'
The sound of the gentle voice calmed his heightened senses, and the tension in his face eased.
A rough hand brushed his ear, massaging it softly.
He let out a quiet moan, instinctively
wrapping his arms around the figure beside him, craving more of that delicate, subtle pleasure.
His cheek brushed against the muscular thigh next to him.
A deep chuckle came from the man.
Zhenya loved the way the air vibrated with his laughter, the warm sound resonating in his ears.
'Idiot. Stop acting like a baby and get up already. It's noon.'
Even his annoyed scolding felt sweet to Zhenya.
He'd never let anyone speak to him like this before, but for some reason, he craved it when it came to Kwon Taekjoo.
He wanted so much more, wanted him to invade his space at will.
'Agh, idiot. I know you're pretending not to hear me. Have you eaten yet?'
Zhenya shook his head instead of answering.
He was afraid of ruining the gentle moment by speaking, though he had no real reason to.
'I figured as much. Ugh, lift your head already. I'll make you the black bean noodles you like. You're a big man, but you still don't feed yourself well, and you have the appetite of a kid.'
The man shook his leg, nudging Zhenya's head.
Zhenya cracked a smile, slowly opening his eyes.
"....."
He reached for the empty space beside him, but it was cold, as if no one had been there.
With a deep sigh, he sat up.
He must have fallen asleep studying the blueprints again.
After four days without rest, he'd pretty much passed out.
Whenever his mind became overwhelmed with thoughts that distracted him, Zhenya would retreat to his "island" and immerse himself in studying his weapons, just as he was now.
To bring his creations to life, he needed precise calculations and great skill, so he would clear his mind of everything else until he achieved a satisfying result.
But lately, even that had become hard.
It usually happened after arguing with Kwon Taekjoo.
No matter how much he tried to block it out, unanswered questions crowded his mind.
And they always circled back to the same thing...
why was Kwon Taekjoo angry, and what had he done wrong this time?
Why?
Why, exactly?
The questions piled up, turning his thoughts into a tangled mess.
There hadn't been a single problem in his life he couldn't solve.
He always found an answer, one way or another, and if not, he'd eliminate the problem entirely.
Even when his mind got caught up in complex thoughts, all he had to do was shut them out forever.
But that approach never worked with Kwon Taekjoo.
The questions about him never went
anywhere, and he couldn't erase him from his mind.
Maybe that was why Zhenya felt angrier
and more frustrated than ever.
With a soft click of his tongue, he opened the tracking app, as he often did.
"...Hm?"
The only target he was tracking was Kwon Taekjoo, but for some reason, his location wasn't marked on the map.
Zhenya restarted the app, but it was the same as before.
Only one message appeared on his screen, saying:
"The target does not exist."
But that was impossible.
The microchip Zhenya had secretly implanted in Kwon Taekjoo's body should have been constantly detecting his vital signs and transmitting his location to Zhenya in real-time.
Unless Kwon Taekjoo was in a no-signal zone or the device had been destroyed, there was no reason for that message to appear.
Zhenya was about to restart the device again when a familiar sound reached his ears.
It was the hum of a helicopter in the distance.
'As soon as I'm done, I'll come back for you, alright? Zhenya.'
Could it be Kwon Taekjoo?
Had he completed his mission already?
Maybe that was why he wasn't showing up on the tracker.
After deactivating the island's defense systems, Zhenya made his way to the living room.
He drew the curtains and looked out the window.
A helicopter was approaching from afar.
Its pink exterior made him question if it was really Kwon Taekjoo, but then again, entering Russia wouldn't have been easy for Kwon Taekjoo considering his situation.
Maybe he'd gotten help from Olga.
Zhenya headed up to the rooftop.
After a while, the helicopter descended slowly, the gusts from the blades rustling his robe.
He raised an arm to shield his eyes from the wind, peering intently into the helicopter cabin, but he didn't see the face he was expecting.
The blades finally stopped, and the door opened.
Standing on the other side was Olga, who gave her brother an odd look as he stood on the rooftop.
"What's gotten into you all of a sudden? You came out personally to greet me? Wow, I'm so moved I might even shed a tear."
"Are you alone?"
"Who else would I be with? What? Were you that eager to see our father?"
Her nose wrinkled in irritation as she responded sarcastically, pretending not to know who he was really asking about.
"Get lost."
"So harsh. I just got here. I'm exhausted from the long flight. I need a little rest inside."
"Go ahead, if you don't mind that thing being reduced to ashes,"
Zhenya replied, casting a frosty glance at the helicopter.
Then he went back inside.
Olga followed close behind, unfazed.
Her voice was laced with intentional mockery as she walked, as if wanting him to hear.
"There it is—now that's the 'Psych' I know. For a moment, I thought you were on your deathbed, acting so strangely."
Zhenya didn't even bother to respond to Olga's comments.
He ignored her, telling himself it wasn't worth the effort to crush such an annoying insect.
She, in turn, didn't mind his silence.
She headed to the kitchen to set some water boiling for tea.
Her eyes stayed glued to the phone in her hand the whole time.
From the way he was acting, Olga was sure he was tracking someone again, and it was likely Kwon Taekjoo.
They made a dream pair... one openly stalking his partner while the other found it adorable.
Shaking her head, Olga moved to the dining table.
"I want milk tea,"
she called out as Zhenya began pouring tea.
Ignoring her, he prepared only a cup of black tea for himself and sat down.
His eyes stayed fixed on his phone, even as he sipped his hot tea.
"The outside world is pure chaos, and here you are, living happily ever after now that you're dating. It must be nice to live like that."
Though she provoked him on purpose, Zhenya didn't even blink.
He'd always treated those around him as if they were invisible.
She still marveled at how a man like him could completely change his behavior in front of Kwon Taekjoo or their mother.
While Olga fetched milk from the fridge, she murmured under her breath,
"Or are you sulking, getting a silent punishment after your lover scolded you?"
"What do you mean?"
At the mention of Kwon Taekjoo, Zhenya's response was immediate.
A broad smile tugged at the corners of Olga's lips.
She moved lightly to the table and took a seat across from him.
"You two fought, didn't you?"
"I asked what you meant."
Zhenya's expression turned cold, a clear warning that he wouldn't ask politely again.
Olga shrugged and answered in an indifferent tone.
"Taekjoo called me. He asked me to check in on you."
"Did he?"
"Why else would I be here? He was practically begging, so I figured you two had one of your explosive fights again. I came to help patch things up, but it seems I came for nothing, considering how you've been ignoring me."
"… Did he say anything else?"
"Who knows?"
Olga replied dismissively, as she slid her black tea across the table and poured milk in, transforming it into milk tea.
Her refined tastes demanded that anything she consumed carry an aroma of the highest quality.
She sipped her tea, unfazed by the icy glare Zhenya threw her way.
As she toyed with the cup in her hands, she examined her brother.
"Honestly, why does Taekjoo even like you? Two years is more than enough time for his 'honeymoon phase' to be over."
Olga's gaze was meticulous and probing, yet it lacked any malice.
Her eyes showed only genuine curiosity.
"I can't believe he worries about you, of all people."
She shook her head as though the very thought was absurd.
The carefree way she'd stolen his tea and thrown cutting remarks should have irritated him, but Zhenya didn't react in the slightest.
The dark, threatening aura that had been building around him seemed to ease.
His feelings of frustration had calmed somewhat upon hearing that Kwon Taekjoo was concerned about him.
He must have wanted to know more, as he got up and made himself another cup of black tea.
His unhurried movements were wearing on Olga's patience when she suddenly let out a soft
"Oh."
"By the way, Bazim is safe and sound. I have to say, the men in our family are truly blessed with resilient lives."
"Bazim?"
Zhenya turned with a frown, wondering why she would disrupt the pleasant news by bringing up Bazim.
"Didn't you know? He accompanied the president to Iran."
Iran.
That was the last place where he'd tracked Kwon Taekjoo.
Could Kwon Taekjoo's mission be connected to Bazim's work?
Was that why Kwon Taekjoo had insisted Zhenya stay out of it this time?
And what did Olga mean by Bazim being safe?
A sense of unease started creeping over him.
"There was apparently a large terrorist explosion in Tehran,"
Olga continued, her tone light and casual.
Zhenya sprang to his feet, his hand gripping her collar with such force that Olga was instantly yanked from her seat.
She let out a startled cry, half-dragged across the table.
Her body dangled awkwardly, barely balanced on her tiptoes.
"You psychotic lunatic! What do you think you're doing?!"
"A large explosion caused by terrorists? What are you talking about?"
"Ugh, let go of me!"
Olga pounded his arm repeatedly, trying to free herself from his grip, but it was useless.
Without hesitation, she drew a gun and pointed it straight at Zhenya's forehead.
Zhenya didn't even flinch.
His icy blue eyes locked onto hers, veins pulsing in his dilated pupils.
The frigid rage in his gaze was sharp enough to stab.
"I asked you—what are you talking about?!"
he roared.
Olga's breathing turned ragged, her throat tightening under the choking pressure of his hold.
Gasping for air, she tried to pull the trigger, but before she could, Zhenya struck her hand, knocking the gun from her grip.
The gun fired as it fell, shattering the chandelier above them.
Zhenya didn't even flinch, keeping his gaze fixed on Olga.
His pupils narrowed tightly, and every hair on his body stood on end, even more than if he'd encountered a hidden beast in the wild.
Olga struggled to speak, her voice barely a rasp.
"Ugh, there were multiple simultaneous terrorist attacks recently in Tehran. Agh, they still don't know if any of the presidents were the target, what the purpose was… haa, or who was behind it. The country is… ugh, under a national state of emergency, so it's been difficult to reach anyone there… I barely got any information about Bazim while I was on my way here, too. That's all I know!"
Zhenya threw Olga out of his reach.
Now on the floor, Olga clutched her reddened neck and coughed violently for a long while.
Even as she gasped in pain, she muttered,
"Damn bastard,"
with resentment.
After several minutes, she finally regained control, glaring up at Zhenya but staying still.
He stood there, looking stunned.
"Taekjoo…"
The way Zhenya said his name—distant and uneven—felt all wrong.
A feeling of dread overtook Olga as a thought crossed her mind:
Don't tell me…
"What? What is it? Was Taekjoo there, too? Can't you get in touch with him?"
Zhenya didn't respond, and Olga's worry only grew.
"Taekjoo's safe, right? You've always kept track of him. Where is he now? Have you checked?"
she demanded, shaking his leg urgently.
But her voice didn't seem to reach him at
all.
Zhenya stood there like a broken machine, frozen, before suddenly grabbing his phone.
He restarted the tracking system over and over, trying to find any trace of Kwon Taekjoo, but each attempt returned the same message:
"The target does not exist."
In frustration, he threw the phone.
Olga hurried to pick it up, quickly noticing the blank coordinates where Kwon Taekjoo's signal had vanished.
Below, it showed his last recorded
location: Iran, Tehran.
It was, in fact, the exact site of the terrorist attack.
"No… this can't be right. It must be wrong… right?"
Olga shook her head, refusing to accept the reality.
She looked desperately to Zhenya for
reassurance, clinging to a last hope, but he remained silent, his hand covering his eyes.
"It can't be,"
she whispered, restarting the tracking app.
But no matter how many times she tried, she couldn't find a new signal.
Her hands trembled, and her breath came in ragged gasps, a sob breaking through.
Suddenly, Zhenya grabbed the phone from her hands and stormed off without a word.
Just before he left, Olga caught a glimpse of his eyes, now burning with a strange, murderous light.
"Hey! Where are you going?"
she yelled after him.
But her words once again didn't reach
him.
Zhenya was already gone, and nothing seemed capable of stopping him now.