In the meantime, Sion had shut himself inside his place.
No more light.
No more open curtains.
No more music.
Just the heavy smell of spilled alcohol and cold sweat lingering in the room like thick smoke.
He was lying on his bed, shirtless, hair a mess, bloodshot eyes.
Empty bottles piled around him: whiskey, vodka, anything he had found to numb the gaping hole Nari had left in his chest.
He wasn't sleeping anymore.
His body was abandoning him.
His mind was betraying him.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Nari stepping away from him, trembling lips, fear in her gaze — her fear.
Guilt was eating at his throat like acid.
He wanted to punch his own face.
Rip his skin off.
Scream until his voice broke.
Do anything to erase that image.
But it stayed.
He had hurt her.
He had terrified her.
And without her… he was nothing.
A wounded animal.
An abandoned child.
A lucid monster, aware of being a monster.
He lifted a bottle to his lips, his hand shaking, and swallowed another sip, hoping the alcohol would extinguish the pain in his chest.
He failed.
As always.
Suddenly—
DING.
The doorbell screamed through the silent apartment.
Sion jolted, nerves razor-sharp.
He growled, drunk, voice hoarse, aggressive:
— Get lost, Daewon!
No answer.
He sat up slowly, vision blurry, breath ragged.
— Daewon?
He ran a hand over his face.
— You here? Stop messing around.
Still nothing.
He walked to the door.
The closer he got, the harder his heart pounded — like a warning.
Something was wrong.
He lowered his eyes.
And there, under the door…
A white envelope.
No name.
No stamp.
Just placed there, like a whisper.
A shiver crawled up his spine.
A cold shiver.
He ripped the door open violently, as if to catch someone.
— HEY!
The hallway was empty.
But Sion didn't stay still for even one second.
He ran down the stairs two at a time, almost tripping, dashed through the lobby, and burst out the front door like a madman.
— FUCK!
He looked everywhere.
Left.
Right.
Down the street.
Between cars.
Nothing.
Nothing at all.
He didn't even know who he was looking for.
And that was the worst part.
That ignorance tortured him more than the letter he hadn't even opened yet.
He stormed into the front desk area.
— Who did you give my apartment number to?!
The man behind the counter flinched.
— Uh… a young man who was here a minute ago… he just left. Why, sir? Was I not supposed to?
Sion lunged at him, grabbed him by the collar, slammed him against the wall.
— WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT TO DO THAT?!
The receptionist turned pale.
— M-Mr. Sion, calm down or I… I'll call security!
He stuttered.
— He said he was your friend. Yours… and your girlfriend's.
He added, trembling:
— He even showed me a picture of him and your girlfriend…
Sion felt his stomach twist.
His veins freeze.
His hands shake.
— What did he look like?
His voice vibrated with pure rage.
The receptionist swallowed, hesitated.
— He was… tall.
Pretty muscular.
He had a cap, so I didn't see his hair well… I think it was dark.
Black, maybe.
A pause.
— And he had green eyes.
Sion froze.
Didn't move.
Not a muscle.
His face turned white.
Then red.
Then black.
Black with anger.
Black with fear.
Black with a primal instinct waking deep inside him.
A young man.
Muscular.
Green-eyed.
Who knows Nari.
Who knows HIS address.
Who knows HIS mother.
Who leaves letters under HIS door.
Someone coming back to Seoul.
Someone who smiled enough for a receptionist to trust him.
Someone walking around with a picture of him… and Nari.
Someone who didn't even need to hide.
Someone who was playing with him.
Someone who thought he could take Nari away.
The world tilted around Sion.
The ground crumbled under his feet.
A name he refused to think rose in his throat like poison.
Not yet.
Not fully.
But close.
Very close.
He clenched his fist.
So hard.
Too hard.
The rage in his chest wasn't human anymore.
Sion stormed out of the building running, like a hunted animal who suddenly decided to become the hunter.
Seoul's freezing air tore at his lungs, but he didn't give a damn.
He scanned every figure, every step, every breath in the street.
Cap.
Muscular.
Tall.
Green eyes.
He pounced on the first man wearing a black cap, slammed him against a wall, furious:
— IS THAT YOU?! HUH?! SAY IT!!
The man screamed, struggled, stuttered a "I don't understand!!"
Sion threw him to the ground like a trash bag before running again.
Then another.
Then another.
He grabbed passersby by the collar with inhuman violence, lifted them, threw them onto the sidewalk like rag dolls.
— ANSWER ME! IS IT YOU?!
He didn't even see their faces anymore.
Only the cap.
Only the possibility it was him.
People screamed.
Some ran.
Others filmed with their phones.
Sion kept going.
Again.
Again.
Until, after fifteen or twenty minutes spent terrorizing an entire neighborhood…
He stopped.
Heart on the verge of exploding.
Hands shaking.
Throat dry.
He wasn't going to find him.
At this hour… in a city this big…
It was hopeless.
He let out a strangled cry, an animal cry, then ripped open the envelope still in his hand.
He tore it harshly.
One paper.
One message.
A nervous handwriting, almost joyful.
He read it.
And his blood froze.