Gomsuk, Namsek, Sehan, Oduun, and Bunhang simultaneously held their breath, their bodies stiff as if trapped in an unexpected moment.
The fact that had just come out of Frankenstein's mouth hit them hard, like a blow they had no time to avoid.
But among them, there was one figure whose reaction was stronger, more real, until it was difficult to hide.
Margaret.
Her eyes flew open, almost glaring, and her mouth dropped open unconsciously.
"What is the meaning of that?!"
Her voice was sharp, piercing the silence like an arrow released too quickly.
"What do you mean by saying something like that, huh?!"
"Why did Oppa say something that completely contradicts reality?!"
"Who would even want to be the fiancé of an annoying and whiny doctor like Oppa?! That will never happen! And even if it did happen… I would break up with you right then and there!"
The small exclamations tumbled out rapidly from Margaret's lips, one nearly unstoppable breath.
Frankenstein's ears immediately twitched—a tiny movement that appeared whenever Margaret's voice hit him too sharply.
He pulled back his hand, slipping it into his pocket, like someone intentionally suppressing a laughter so it wouldn't sound too obvious—a laughter too mischievous to be released in public.
His body rotated halfway, just enough to display his sharp jawline, and a slight smile appeared spontaneously, without permission.
"Wow, so Margaret is daring to defy me now, huh?"
His words flowed softly, akin to a tease wrapped in a sweet tone that he only used when talking to Margaret. Not anger, not reprimand—more like someone who enjoyed his opponent's reaction too much.
Margaret immediately raised an eyebrow.
"Defy?"
She repeated Frankenstein's word, but this time with a shade of astonishment.
"Since when is lying equated with defiance, huh?!"
Her irritated tone spiked again.
"Besides… we don't have that kind of relationship."
"And if I defy you, will Oppa punish me like when I was little?"
"Oppa should stop treating me like a child. I am no longer a little kid who is easily lied to, let alone teased by an old man like Oppa."
Margaret then turned her face to the side. Both her hands were folded tightly across her chest, creating a thin wall between herself and Frankenstein.
Her lips pouted slightly—a small movement that formed a mix of anger, embarrassment, and defiance that clung hard to her faintly red cheeks.
She was sulking. And everyone in that hallway could see it.
Frankenstein showed no sign of offense when the word old man slipped from Margaret's lips. There was no furrow on his brow, no flash of protest in his eyes.
Instead, a faint chuckle—only like a subtle rustle trapped between his teeth and throat—passed silently.
A thin smile returned to grace his lips as he watched Margaret pout, a tiny movement that cracked his defense like a small fracture on thin glass.
"Damn it," He cursed in his heart.
"Why are you pouting like that, Margaret? Are you doing it intentionally to tease me?"
"Unfortunately, I am indeed tempted… Not just by your lips—your voice alone is enough to make me want to kiss you right now in front of everyone. And about that 'old man' comment…"
"I guarantee you'll regret saying it. Because this old man you underestimate will soon pull you into his arms… and never let you go. Forever."
He chuckled softly again—a rustling that only he could hear—then turned his body completely, facing Gomsuk and the four others.
"I seem to have gone overboard."
He truly laughed softly this time.
With a reflex that seemed so human, he rubbed the back of his head—an awkward little rub usually done when someone doesn't know where to put their hands.
The gesture looked so natural, as if he was trying to ease an embarrassment he never truly admitted. In fact, there wasn't the slightest bit of awkwardness within him; he only wanted to create a pause.
"I sincerely apologize for my rude joke earlier."
After that, he extended his hand again toward Gomsuk.
"I'll repeat myself."
"Frankenstein Van Marriote. CEO of Bohanesa IV Jakarta Hospital. Junior and friend to Victor Visclonew of ASpire Entertainment. I am a doctor… and someone quite close to Margaret. Or more precisely…"
He lowered his voice, gentle yet containing an implied pressure, as if every word was deliberately lowered to flow slowly into everyone's ears.
"…to me, Margaret is like an adorable little sister."
That tone—almost like a murmur of possession delivered with a polite smile—flowed unhurriedly.
What made Gomsuk hold his entire body frozen in place was...
It wasn't the man's position, nor his closeness to Margaret—but the name that had just slipped into his ear, jarring an old memory.
The name flashed, vanished again, then left a subtle vibration that pierced his chest like the ripple of a wave hitting the beach late at night.
Gomsuk's gaze was fixed on Frankenstein's outstretched hand.
"Frankenstein Van Marriote?"
"Did I mishear?"
"Or does he just coincidentally have a name resembling that man's?"
He then glanced toward Frankenstein's face, who was still looking at him with that smile—a smile that was difficult to read, the meaning of which he didn't know.
But Gomsuk could sense it, could distinguish something that couldn't be expressed in words: the smile was clearly not a genuine smile, not a friendly smile. It was a deceptive smile, a smile he had seen countless times on humans disguised as angels, yet behind the mask hid a devil.
His gaze then swept to Margaret's figure—the girl who was still turning her face away, her lips still folded in a pout.
"That girl is similar to 'her'."
"If that girl is truly 'her', then I should lose control if I touch her."
"Because when 'she' touched me before, I felt a warmth I had never felt, and it made me constantly want to be near her."
"The way 'she' hugged me back then made me think I shouldn't eliminate her. And in that very second, I felt something strange… something that made me like 'her'."
"Or maybe I fell in love with 'her' right then? Before finally…"
His gaze returned to Frankenstein, assessing the man more deeply.
"If that girl is truly 'her', then this man should be the one who could recognize that I am a shapeshifter. This man should also be the reason why I was separated from 'her'."
Gomsuk lowered his gaze, looking at Frankenstein's hand still suspended in front of him.
Slowly, he raised his hand—a cautious movement, like someone opening a door to a truth he absolutely did not want to hear—and before touching the outstretched hand,
"I must find out more."
Frankenstein realized everything.
He realized the hesitation implicit in Gomsuk's movement as his hand was about to meet the outstretched one, realizing the held breath, the heartbeat that seemed to momentarily stop.
He also realized how Gomsuk's eyes seemed to trace his face longer than they should have, like someone carefully assessing something—assessing something too familiar to be called a coincidence.
There was a slight sensation in his heart, something that made him smirk in silence.
That smirk was not meant to be shown to anyone; it wasn't visible on his lips, unreadable in his eyes, and couldn't even be felt by anyone else but himself.
"It seems you haven't given up yet, huh… little black cat?"
"After I went to such lengths to make sure Margaret didn't pay too much attention to you, now you dare to show up as a human?"
"Are you planning to take Margaret's attention away from me again? Do you think I'll let that happen?"
He glanced at Namsek, Sehan, Oduun, and even Bunhang out of the corner of his eye.
"They must be shapeshifters too, right?"
"Cats? Puppies? Rabbits? Ferrets? Or maybe wolves…?"
He narrowed both his eyes.
"Whatever they are… I must find out. And I won't let any of you touch Margaret."
But before their palms could touch, the hallway, which was previously only filled with the echo of their breaths, was suddenly eroded by the sound of shoes hitting the floor with a hurried rhythm.
The sound reverberated off the narrow walls, creating layered echoes, as if every step was amplified by a panic that spread itself in the air.
Then the voice came—clear yet rushed, as if thrown out by someone chasing time.
"Miss Margaret!"
Simultaneously, all heads turned.
An adult woman emerged from the hallway bend—her round glasses bobbed because her steps were too quick, her long curly hair waved like waves churned by the wind.
She stopped right in front of Margaret, holding her labored breath as if she had just climbed stairs without looking down.
From her hands, she held up a bouquet of red roses and a black tote bag that looked heavy with untold contents.
"This… someone… someone... claimed to be your school friend… asked me to give it to you."