A floor above, in the suite beneath the glass dome of the skyscraper, Ryu Seonyeong sat with his elbows on the table, fingers interlaced as if in prayer. His lips moved faintly.
— Creator, I'm not asking for help. Just don't get in the way.
He clutched Matteo's old cross — the one he'd carried since youth.
He only prayed in moments of true desperation. And right now, his heart pounded so violently that it seemed the sound could pierce the walls themselves.
Every time he tried to breathe calmly, Kang Jihan's face appeared before his eyes — closing in on Kael.
If Jihan caught him, it was over.
If Kael suffered because of him, Seonyeong would never forgive himself.
Ever since people began discovering his true nature, things had always ended the same way — the ones near him paid the price.
The strong were untouchable, so the weak were used as bait.
And Jihan was one of those who would go to the end for his goal. You couldn't lose focus for even a second against him.
He stayed like that until dawn — motionless, his mind fraying with a thousand sharp threads.
***
A little after ten in the morning, the phone screen blinked.
A message from Kael:
"I'm on a cargo ship heading toward the Eastern Archipelago. They almost caught me at a motel, but Jihan got an urgent call and pulled his men back."
— It worked…
Seonyeong exhaled, as if finally breathing for the first time in hours.
His fingers trembled, yet a faint smile spread across his lips.
"You didn't tell anyone where you were going? Not even Park Ki-cheol?"
"No."
He closed his eyes, feeling the weight that had built in his chest finally dissolve.
Only now did he allow himself to fall onto the bed.
Kael was safe.
Maybe not for long — but for now, that was enough.
He reached for the phone again.
"Good job. I'll contact you when it's over. Keep an eye on your tail."
"Roger."
Seonyeong chuckled.
"Quick learner. Guess those lessons paid off."
In a world where every movement was monitored by network surveillance, a cargo ship remained one of the few mythic ways to vanish.
He pulled out Kwak Du-won's business card from the night before.
If that ship's still in port, I've got a chance to leave before Jihan lands.
He didn't want this to turn into another hunt.
But the moment that thought solidified, his phone buzzed.
Kang Jihan.
He stared at the name for several seconds before answering.
— Yes?
— It's me. My flight's delayed — storm over the central corridor.
— I see.
Seonyeong gripped the phone until his knuckles turned white.
He's lying? Already caught Kael? Or just letting me know he's close?
— I think I'll still make it before the tournament ends, — Jihan said. — Arriving just in time.
— Good…
Seonyeong exhaled softly. If the storm was real, he had a few more hours.
Then Jihan's voice dropped lower, almost like a confession.
— I'll do everything until you become human. No — more than that. So we can stay together.
For a moment, Seonyeong's breath faltered.
— Thank you, — he said quietly and hung up.
***
The final day of the tournament arrived.
Ryu Seonyeong was unstoppable.
In just two days, he'd won so much that the rest could do nothing but watch in envy.
By the morning of the third day, most players were gone. Even the finalists had lost nearly everything.
His dominance had become a legend before the results were even announced.
On the screen in the Lotus Hall, the numbers flared:
1st Place — David Baek (Ryu Seonyeong). 35.47 billion credits.
Fanfares. Lights. A cascade of glitter raining from the ceiling projections.
Casino staff applauded with exaggerated enthusiasm; the remaining participants clapped with venomous indifference.
He felt their gazes — each like a blade.
Now it truly begins.
On the central screen, the holographic Emperor of the project appeared — the stand-in for Im Chinthe in all public broadcasts.
His perfect mask of courtesy smiled.
— Thank you for your participation. Congratulations to the winners. The rest — see you in two years.
The crowd murmured.
Guards in black coats entered the hall, anticipating outbursts from the losers.
Two attendants — a man and a woman in burgundy uniforms — approached Seonyeong.
— Mr. Baek, please come with us to receive your prize.
— Of course.
He nodded and followed.
At the exit, he caught Kwak Du-won's eye.
The older man pretended to talk on the phone and subtly raised two fingers — the signal that the ship was ready.
Seonyeong gave a faint nod in return.
But in the corner of the hall stood another man — Matteo.
He smiled with the same unsettling calm as yesterday, a smile alien to anything human.
Damn it. Not him again.
***
The prize room wasn't lavish — just a sterile office with a steel table and cold light.
Behind the desk sat a short man in a white coat, more doctor than administrator.
— Welcome, Mr. Baek. Congratulations.
His voice was even, emotionless, yet his smile carried that familiar discomfort — the kind of person who enjoyed watching reactions.
— Thirty-five billion… impressive, — he continued. — What will you choose — the money, or the ticket to immortality?
Seonyeong raised an eyebrow.
— And if I say "money"?
The man blinked.
— Pardon?..
— Seriously, if I ask for cash — would you actually give it?
— That's… — his tongue tripped against his teeth.
Seonyeong smiled faintly.
— Thought you'd at least lie for courtesy's sake. Fine, give me the ticket.
The man's cheeks flushed. He gestured to his assistant, who brought a black box tied with a red ribbon.
— Your ticket.
— Hm.
It was heavier than expected.
He untied the ribbon — and the world seemed to tilt.
Inside lay the same lavender flip phone, encrusted with diamonds.
— This is…
— Correct. A limited Aurora Systems model. Only five exist. Through it, you'll receive instructions. Duration — up to six months.
Panic flared in his mind.
The same phone Matteo gave me…
— So the ticket is the phone?
— Yes. It's the key to the program. All other models are returned before the next cycle.
Five… Then there aren't five. There are six. One outside the system.
He slipped the box into his pocket, keeping his face calm.
— Don't show it to anyone. Curiosity has cost lives before.
— Noted.
He stood and moved toward the door — then stopped.
— One thing. The person who handed out the tickets last cycle — did he happen to wear sapphire glasses?
— Hm? No, not that I recall.
Seonyeong nodded.
— I see. Thank you.
He left.
His heartbeat pounded like a chase drum.
One thought echoed through his head:
If Matteo's behind all this, then he already knows everything.
He pulled out both phones and powered them on.
Both screens flashed the same message:
"Congratulations. You are closer to your dream. Await further instructions."
Seonyeong froze.
The two devices were perfectly synchronized.
That meant the first one was genuine.
Damn it. He's watching me.
He gripped both phones, trying to decide whom to trust.
Tell Jihan? Or disappear while he still could?
Then one of the phones buzzed again.
"I'm downstairs. Fiftieth floor. Waiting."
Seonyeong stared at the message and whispered:
— No. I can't be dragged in again.
He slipped one phone into his pocket, the other into his suitcase.
Time to vanish.
He took out Kwak's card and dialed.
The man picked up almost instantly.
— Mr. Baek! Everything's ready!
Seonyeong looked out the window.
Far below, beyond the net of city lights, the port shimmered faintly — and it felt as though the whole of Lirean was holding its breath.