“His talent may be mediocre, but a gwijae is still a gwijae. At his age, his vitality is excellent.”
Jaegyeom’s face stiffened and drained of color.
Suhyang had prolonged her life by using gwijae as ingredients for her spells. The moment he realized Cho Youngwoo was one of them, something surged up from the depths of his chest.
Rage.
“Yes, I wonder what it feels like to reunite with an old friend after so long.”
Only then did Jaegyeom understand. Running into Cho Youngwoo in a place like this had never been a coincidence. She had known Youngwoo was connected to him and had deliberately kept the boy nearby.
His breathing stopped.
Something inside his head snapped.
“......”
At last, the muscle beneath Jaegyeom’s eye twitched.
Before he could even think, his body moved first.
As if possessed, Jaegyeom reached out and grabbed the kettle sitting on the table.
CRASH—!
Clutching the earthenware teapot, Jaegyeom smashed it down against the table with all his strength. The teapot exploded into pieces, shards scattering everywhere. Blood ran down his hand. He seized the sharpest fragment and drove it straight toward Suhyang’s throat.
It happened in an instant.
But the shard stopped just short of her neck.
At a distance close enough to graze her skin, a hand shot out and caught Jaegyeom’s wrist.
A grim look crossed his face as he slowly turned his eyes sideways.
Dozens of masked figures surrounded him in a circle.
They had appeared without a sound.
Every one of them had a sword pointed at Jaegyeom.
The Commissioner’s personal guard.
The guards wore plain white masks without a single marking on them. They looked like faceless ghosts—grotesque and deeply unsettling.
Encircled, Jaegyeom ground his teeth together and scanned his surroundings.
“......”
After a brief assessment, he suddenly twisted his body.
He sharply bent back the wrist restraining him and drove the shard straight into the guard’s chest.
But instead of blood spraying out, only a dry rustling sound followed.
Straw poked out from the wound and fluttered through the air.
Jaegyeom’s eyes widened.
“Stop. It won’t work. They are not human.”
Suhyang spoke evenly.
“That habit of striking first with your hands hasn’t changed at all. They exist solely to protect me. So unless you want to witness something unpleasant, stop wasting your strength.”
Only then did Jaegyeom understand what the personal guards truly were.
They were not human.
They were straw men created through Suhyang’s sorcery.
Long ago, at the village shrine, Suhyang had fought him with straw dolls just like these.
“Even courage becomes poison when carried too far.”
Despite the sudden attack, she did not so much as blink.
“You should calm yourself for a moment. Of course, with your undying body, you have nothing to lose. I understand why you act so recklessly. But the people around you are not the same, are they?”
Jaegyeom flinched for only a moment before glaring at her as though he wanted to tear her apart.
Her words were both a threat and a warning.
It had already been more than two months since he entered the Office of Narye. More than enough time to investigate his background or obtain complete access to his personal records.
Which meant Jeongju and Mesan could also be in danger.
As the boiling fury slowly drained from Jaegyeom’s body, the straw guard behind him immediately forced him down.
CLATTER!
Jaegyeom was slammed to the floor.
Grinding his teeth, he looked up at Suhyang.
If he could, he would snap her neck this instant.
“My, my. You must have been quite shocked.”
At that moment, the cat hiding behind Suhyang hissed at Jaegyeom.
Suhyang calmly soothed it.
A faint smile rested on her lips.
She looked utterly relaxed.
Jaegyeom stared at her murderously.
“Let him go.”
Still breathing hard, Jaegyeom muttered in a low voice.
“Who are you referring to?”
“Cho Youngwoo. He has nothing to do with me.”
Suhyang scoffed as she stroked the cat’s head.
“Haha, is that so? You pity Cho Youngwoo. But impulsive pity and compassion are worse than useless. There’s no need to feel sorry for him. That child chose this path himself.”
“Cut the bullshit. What did you do to a kid who doesn’t know anything?”
“You think I deceived him?”
Suhyang frowned faintly before slowly shaking her head.
“My, aren’t you the one being deceived?”
Jaegyeom stared at her, clearly demanding an explanation.
“At this rate, you’ll simply repeat the mistakes of the past.”
Clicking her tongue, Suhyang looked at him with what seemed like genuine pity.
“Let me offer you one sincere piece of advice. Do you know how I managed to rise to this position?”
Her smile gradually faded.
Her expression turned serious.
“It is because I genuinely cared for humans, but never trusted them.”
“I do not trust people. Everyone believes what they see with their own eyes is the truth. I needed no parents, no friends, no master. The only person worth believing in or relying on is myself.”
As she spoke, Suhyang gently stroked the cat’s back several times with unmistakable affection.
This cat was her teacher, companion, and colleague.
Even though it could not speak, she could understand everything simply by looking into its eyes.
An animal’s eyes never wavered.
“Mutual understanding and trust are illusions. In the end, everyone is bound by purpose and self-interest. But because humans fail to realize that and recklessly hand over their hearts, they inevitably become weak.”
Suhyang paused briefly before murmuring quietly,
“So the wise thing is to discard what should be discarded, and take what should be taken.”
After silently studying Jaegyeom for a while, she finally spoke again.
“So. What will you choose?”
A faint smile curved her lips.
“That child, Taehee, was wrong. He can no longer give you what you want. At this point, he’s no different from a rotten rope. And yet, seeing you hesitate like this... you must be worried about him.”
Suhyang gazed somewhere far away and added quietly, almost to herself,
“But is he truly someone worth that ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) much?”
The moment she finished speaking, murderous intent flashed through Jaegyeom’s eyes.
“Watch your mouth.”
“I mean you should judge calmly whether he is truly trustworthy. Whether he is truly someone worth protecting. After being betrayed by the master you trusted and followed so faithfully, you still place your trust in others so easily.”
Suhyang slowly turned her head and looked directly at Jaegyeom.
“Even if everything had gone according to your plan, you still would not have obtained what you wanted in the end. If that child had truly trusted and cared for you as a comrade...”
He would not have hidden the fact that he was moving the Byeoksadan separately.
But Yoon Taehee was hiding that from Jaegyeom.
What did that mean?
Suhyang stopped there and smirked.
“What do you really know about that child?”
The method Suhyang chose was doubt.
From experience, she knew the most effective way to break someone’s spirit was to shake the bonds tying them together.
After leaving the Commissioner’s office, Jaegyeom stood blankly on the dark street.
A light rain was still falling outside.
The night sky he had seen from the Commissioner’s office felt like a completely different world. As though he had briefly crossed into another realm before returning to reality.
Maybe everything had been a dream.
Jaegyeom wandered aimlessly down the rain-soaked street.
People carrying umbrellas glanced at him as he walked through the rain, but Jaegyeom paid them no attention. He simply kept walking, letting the drizzle drench him completely.
By the time he returned to the hospital over an hour later, he looked like a drowned rat.
Soaked to the bone, he staggered down the hallway toward the hospital room—
Then abruptly stopped.
Someone familiar sat in front of the room.
“......”
Jaegyeom stood there blankly for a moment before his lips finally moved.
“Yoon Taehee.”
Yoon Taehee, who had been sitting in the chair with his legs crossed, slowly lifted his head.
