The underground bar reeked of booze and cigarette smoke. Dim lights flickered in rhythm with the heavy bass thumping through the room. Once, this had been their hangout spot with the gang, but these days it was nearly deserted. Only one broad-shouldered, sharp-featured man remained—half lounging, half sprawled across the crimson-red sofa in the center of a room designed like a planetarium, starfields glowing faintly across the ceiling.
His sharp, shadowed eyes looked almost hollow, dark circles beneath them making him seem like he hadn' t slept in days.
"Ray."
The soft call drifted through the gloom. Pyramid stepped closer, placing a small hand on the man' s wide shoulder—trying to pull his friend back from wherever his mind had sunk. Ray had been waiting. Waiting for Inspector R, who had said he was taking a week off to visit relatives up north. Ray hadn' t gone with him. It was already three days past that promised week. R never returned. Instead, he left behind a resignation letter. No calls. No trace. Nothing.
Which made no sense—R was a genius hacker. Even the police database wasn' t beyond him. And yet, when Ray broke into it, there was nothing. Just a bare entry: name, rank, age. Nothing else.
That was why Ray had ended up in this state.
"Mm," Ray grunted, not even glancing over.
"Why sit here in the dark alone?" Pyramid sank down beside him, wrinkling his nose at the sharp reek of alcohol. Ray' s half-lidded gaze flicked his way before shoving a bottle into his hands.
"Miss him. Drink with me."
Ray raised his glass and downed it, lips wet with liquor, eyes vacant.
"You… heard what' s going on outside?"
"No. All I know is my wife' s gone and I can' t reach him." His voice was heavy, threaded with rage. A fingertip tapped the glass in rhythm with the tick of his wristwatch. "Help me find him, Mid."
"You' re better at that than me. You' ve always made me the sidekick, remember?" Pyramid turned to face him fully. The man beside him didn' t look like the Ray he knew. "What' s wrong with you? You keep calling him…"
His gaze dropped. A silver chain glimmered faintly in the dim light, the pendant hanging in the shape of an R. For a moment, Pyramid' s short memory betrayed him, and then it struck—sometimes the smallest object was the key to everything.
"That necklace… who gave it to you?"
Ray chuckled under his breath, fingers twirling the pendant slowly. "Stole it from him."
Pyramid' s brows knotted. "Who?"
"Inspector R."
The answer sent a chill crawling down Pyramid' s spine. He swallowed hard.
"…Ray. I found something while digging."
"Mm? Shoot." Ray propped his chin in his hand, waiting.
"The guy who takes the gray bribes from government officials… he' s royal-blooded."
"I remember. We talked about that already. You really are a goldfish brain." Ray laughed, mocking.
Pyramid bit his lip but pushed on. "He' s had surgery. Five times. Every time his cover risks being blown, he changes his face, changes his identity. Nobody recognizes him. Not even iris scans, not fingerprints. Only DNA can expose him."
The words hit like a hammer to the chest. The air grew heavier. Ray didn' t answer right away. He turned just enough for the dim lights to glint in his eyes, dangerous and sharp.
The lights flickered. Ray slammed his glass down so hard the table shook. His eyes were bloodshot, fury boiling just beneath the surface.
"Why tell me that, huh?" His laugh was rough, unnatural. "Inspector R isn' t coming back. I hacked the silenced reports—he' s not a cop, not even ordinary. He' s the last son of the King before his illness. Born different. EQ, IQ, off the charts."
Pyramid' s small hands clenched his glass. He slumped back, drained. "Then why won' t he come back?"
Ray' s voice fell to a hoarse whisper, almost too soft for the pounding music around them. "His cop-game' s over. The billion' s already been found. He stripped our parents' assets until they' re half-ruined. And now his existence is leaking out. If people know, he can' t stay alive."
"…Then what am I supposed to do?" Ray' s fingers shook as he gripped his glass, head bowed, biting his lip until blood welled. His voice broke, raw, his broad shoulders trembling. Pyramid immediately pulled him close, pressing Ray' s head to his narrow shoulder, rubbing his back gently.
"I love him, Mid. If I knew I was part of why he' s gone, I' d have done nothing. I' d have stayed quiet. I' d have obeyed him—anything."
Tears soaked through Pyramid' s shirt as the usually unbreakable Ray shook like a child. He' d never seen him cry from grief before—only ever faked tears for laughs. But now, this was too big, too real.
"Ray…" Pyramid whispered, afraid his friend might vanish if he didn' t keep calling his name.
"Mm." Ray swiped at his tears roughly, looking back with eyes that didn' t feel like his own anymore.
Pyramid lowered his head, forced a strained laugh. "Remember the game we used to play? You always picked the white garbage truck to haul money."
Ray' s eyes dropped to the corner of his lips, aching to smile but too heavy to manage. In the dim reflection on his glass, his handsome face looked empty, expressionless.
"…"
Pyramid drew a sharp breath, forcing the words out. "R.Y. 2499. I saw it. The plate number on the garbage truck. Same as the one on the bike you bought me."
The silence that fell was absolute—like a world-ending game where every bomb had gone off, and nothing was left standing.
One Year Later
Rome glanced at Ray with a faint smirk.
"So, Ray, where' d you run off to work this time?"
Pyramid leaned back, eyes drifting out the window at the sweltering Bangkok heat, sunlight burning into his gaze.
"Too damn hot here. Probably went off to the North Pole."
Versailles chuckled under his breath, thumbs busy tapping away at a mobile game.
"Got a lead on that guy yet? Been a year already since we started playing politician… except Ray, of course."
Pyramid let out a long sigh.
"Forget it. Love' s like that. You can' t design it."
Rome tilted his head with a sly grin, watching Pyramid closely.
"Strange hearing you talk about love. Guess a night or two in jail made you enlightened, huh?"
Pyramid flicked a nicotine gum wrapper at Rome' s tall frame, the same asshole he' d always been, no matter how much time passed.
"How the hell are we the 'beloved politicians of the people' ? You' re still a pain in the ass. Not like our parents' generation—they got cursed every single day."
Pyramid nodded in agreement.
"Good enough, I guess. But do we have to start paying bribes or what?" His raspy voice carried a teasing lilt.
Versailles raised a hand, cutting him off.
"No bullshit payments. I' m done with that crap."
Pyramid' s gaze drifted toward the project documents spread across the table. Infrastructure, construction, public works—the numbers were staggering.
"These projects… the money' s insane. Just trimming down the size 'cause of land issues left enough surplus to drown in." Versailles arched a brow, pleased.
"Yeah, some contractors even cut prices and threw in extras. Leaves a fat margin, huh, V? You' re in charge of this stuff now. Who the hell voted you into that seat—are you even adding shit up right?"
Versailles flashed a wide grin, teeth gleaming.
"I' m rich. Doesn' t matter if I add wrong or right—it' s never ugly. Call me Boss Versailles of Shenzhen from now on."
The laughter of three men, older now but not much wiser, echoed through the room.
"Haha! Hahaha!"
Just then, Versailles' phone buzzed. Brrt. Brrt. He glanced down at the screen, lips curling into that same mocking smile.
"Oh, message from Dad. I' ll go talk to him."
Pyramid' s eyes lingered on his phone. Rome waved lazily, attention shifting back to his own device, which lit up almost at the same time.
"Yeah, see you at the club."
"Pyramid, I' ve got dinner plans. You' re heading back with Yu, right?"
"Mm."
"Catch you later."
Versailles: Message sent to Dread Father…
"Transferred the crypto. One billion."
Rome: Message sent to Pisa…
"Same restaurant. Twenty minutes."
(Ray)
"Damn… snow' s heavy as hell."
One year later, he had long withdrawn from being the son of a politician. Resigned permanently from the game, cut all ties, made himself unreachable. The only people still able to contact Ray were Pyramid and two other friends.
The tall young man drifted without direction, telling them he just wanted to escape the cage and see the outside world. Money for travel came partly from nature photography in hard-to-reach, unseen places.
Truthfully, though, it didn' t make much. More often he gambled with friends, mooched cash off them—or sometimes shot nude photos of himself and sent them to Rome to sell off for quick money.
Pathetic, maybe. But fun. And sometimes it led him to places where he felt just a little closer to someone.
A year had passed since they' d last met. Ray wondered what face that person was wearing now, what mask, what life. Would he still smile the same? Still be kind, warm, gentle?
He missed him.
Missed him so damn much.