Gil was only a street away from his place when it hit him again.
That presence.
That gaze.
It was just that this time—there was no doubt. It was coming from straight ahead.
So they know where I live… of course.
Gil clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stay calm.
He took a step back.
The feeling shifted.
There was something else in it now—interest and...
Amusement.
Like a hunter watching its prey hesitate.
Gil hated that impression.
Running wouldn't work, it seemed.
Not this time.
And honestly, he was fine with it.
Gil exhaled slowly. "…I'm done running."
And then—he walked forward.
"Hey, El," he said, his voice suddenly light. "Can you do me a favor?"
On the other side,
El answered immediately. "…What is it?" His tone was heavy.
He already knew.
Something on his friend's side must have gone wrong.
Horribly so.
Gil continued walking.
"First," he said, "don't come here."
He paused, letting his words sink in. "I mean it."
"…Gil—" El's concerned voice rose on the other side.
"Listen to what I have to say first," Gil cut in.
"Whoever's after me went through a lot to get here. I'll be fine…"
At least i think so,he added inwardly.
He was not too sure himself, but he did not think he was wrong, though he would be unable to tell where this confidence came from.
Pausing a bit, he continued: "But you? I don't think they'll be as 'nice'."
Silence.
"…Got it," El said quietly.
"Hey," Gil added with a grin, "it's not like you've ever beaten me anyway."
"…Tch."
Good. That was enough.
Gil's expression turned serious. "And more importantly..."
El held his breath.
Ideas of what Gil could ask so seriously ran through his mind.
Business left unfinished ?
Clues on who's behind all of this?
Asking me to avenge him in case the worst happens?
No, knowing Gil, he would rather handle it himself and forbid anyone else to meddle.
Did he have a girlfriend hidden somewhere that I didn't know about, and he wants me to look after her?
So many guesses flashed in El's mind from the most possible to the nonsensical ones.
Then he heard:
"I'm leaving my things temporarily in your care."
"…What?"
"At our spot. Where we first met." Gil's voice was firm now. "I don't know what's about to happen… but I'm not risking them."
A pause.
Then, despite everything—El smiled.
"…Of course that's what you'd worry about," he muttered.
"Take good care of them," Gil insisted. "Or I won't forgive you."
"…Yeah," El responded, half-annoyed, half-helpless.
Gil stopped walking. He was almost there. "Well… that's it."
A small pause. "See you later, El."
"…Yeah." El's voice tightened. "See you later,Gil."
The call ended.
Gil tore a large piece of his shirt and carefully wrapped his phone and earbuds inside.
He slipped into an alley and hid them in a corner.
Hope he finds them first.
Then—he stepped back onto the street.
The closer he got, the stronger it became.
That presence, that weight. But now, it had changed. It wasn't just watching anymore. It wanted him. Heat bled through the invisible pressure—not warmth, but something else.
Something… possessive.
Gil froze for a split second.
Chains.
For a brief instant, he saw them.
Wrapping around him.
Trapping him.
Tightening.
Waiting.
Then, as brusquely as they had come—they were gone.
Only the gaze remained.
"…Huh." Gil frowned. That's new. He shook his head.
Doesn't matter.
He stepped forward again.
He had decided. Whether it was about "that" or his mysterious pursuers...
"I'm done avoiding this."
His hand reached for the door. And he pushed it open. Whatever was waiting inside... a faint smile formed on his lips.
Whatever comes my way... I won't go out without a fight.Gil thought as he got inside.
As soon as Gil stepped in, he knew something was wrong.
Firstly, the lights were off.
At this hour?
Secondly, there was no one in sight.
The hallway was empty; even the ever-nagging clerk was gone.
It was quiet, too quiet.
Unsettlingly so.
And it wasn't just nervousness talking. It was Friday night, almost the weekend. Usually, the building was alive with noise—kids running around everywhere, housewives gossiping in hushed voices, men heading out or standing around talking.
There was none of that tonight.
Recalling the death at the site, Gil felt a faint unease creeping in as he walked, but he pushed it aside for now; he had enough worries of his own.
The sound of his footsteps was the only noise to be heard.
Gil kept walking, but there was no one.
Not a soul.
He was alone.
For a moment, it felt true. The next second—he was not. Not anymore.
He felt it as soon as the change took place.
Further in, something shifted.
He wouldn't know how to put it into words. It was like knowing without being aware of why. Gil could not explain it; he just... knew.
He was not alone.
Gil tensed up and scanned the hallway, trying to find the source of that gaze.
Nothing.
He saw no one. There was no sound besides his own, yet he was sure of it.
Someone was there.
Hidden.
Then—a sound echoed in the previously quiet space.
Clang.
He heard it. The clanging of chains.
First he heard them, then he saw them.
All around him, without him knowing when they had appeared, chains manifested.
Black as night, heavy and oppressive.
And the worst partb?
They moved, closing in inch by inch.
Gil froze, his breath caught in his throat.
The hallway resounded with the noise of the chains, Gil's furiously beating heart, and his labored breathing.
Steadying his breath, he scanned his surroundings.
Those chains... again?
Where did they come from?
Gil followed them back, deep into the shadows toward an empty corner.
At first, just some shadowy corner—then, two figures stepped out of it
Masked and cloaked.
Watching.
Measuring him.
The taller one raised his hands and began to clap slowly, with a hint of approval. "You noticed. Impressive," he said lightly. He pointed to himself with his thumb and added calmly: "The name is Hector, and you are coming with me."
His tone was steady; it wasn't a request, but a matter of fact.
He was simply informing Gil of his fate.
The second figure kept quiet, merely observing, but Gil could feel a faint animosity radiating from him.
Though he was sure they were seeing each other for the first time, the other party seemed to hate his guts.
Gil kept his guard up against him all the same.
But in the face of the weight of the taller man's gaze, Gil didn't pay the second figure too much mind.
Even without an introduction, Gil knew from the eyes peering behind the mask that the gaze from earlier belonged to Hector.
Gil kept quiet, unmoving, locking eyes with him.
Behind his mask, Hector smiled, not minding Gil's attitude. He looked relaxed, as if they had all the time in the world.
But the chains grew restless.
They tightened, twisted, and closed in, blocking every path.
Seeing this, Gil's chest grew tight. He didn't like where this was going.
This was not normal.
Silence settled in as neither Hector nor his companion said another word.
They didn't need to.
Claaang!
The chains thrashed more and more violently. They were almost upon him.
No more time.
Lowering his stance, Gil exhaled. He brought his hands in front of his chest, fists clenched.
Locking onto the two in front of him, he settled his gaze on Hector.
Gil dashed at him at full speed and—threw his fist at his face.