He caught a glimpse of Secretary Jang, shivering from the cold, hurriedly leaving. Choi Gang-hu attached a windbreaker item to Ryu Seo-ha’s shirt collar.

Suddenly, pleasant memories from the desert came back to life. It was amazing how even such a small connection could make him fully feel those happy emotions from back then.

“I heard atmosphere is important for serious conversations.”

“It’s a serious atmosphere… but not quite right.”

He shook his head with an awkward smile. It seemed Secretary Jang had been in charge of preparations, but he had greatly misunderstood the purpose. He’ll probably get scolded quite severely later.

He definitely thought that. At least until he heard a gentle, romantic melody coming from somewhere. It was Chopin’s piano concerto.

The piece written by a poet singing of farewell, filled with passionate feelings for his first love, quietly flowed and moistened his ears under the moonlight. It sounded like a famous live recording.

“I considered playing it myself, but I didn’t like the composer’s view of love.”

The voice reciting with classical music from the Romantic era as background made the hairs on his neck stand up from its excessive sweetness. The situation itself was so ticklish it made him shudder.

Amusingly, it was also touching in a way. For a man with the motto of being too busy doing only what he wants to do, to have prepared music after such deliberation.

“But these flowers, I raised myself.”

With hundreds of heart balloons hanging on the railing as a backdrop, Choi Gang-hu pulled out a large bouquet from [Subspace]. Purple roses. It was a color he had never seen before.

Ryu Seo-ha counted the flowers with his eyes, each petal fresh without a single blemish. A thousand? Ten thousand? It was hard to estimate.

“What… are you doing right now?”

Unable to readily accept the flowers, he barely managed to ask after opening and closing his mouth. He thought this was arranged to ask about the past life memories seen in the S-class dungeon.

“I’ll make you walk only on flower paths.”

“…Pardon?”

“I heard there’s such a saying.”

He was about to think ‘Did you really need to look that up?’, but belatedly remembered that not much time had passed since Choi Gang-hu returned to this world.

“I’ll make this world into a flower garden for you.”

The relaxed attitude, body well-suited to suits, high social status, and powerful strength often made him forget. That he was in the process of relearning society.

The humor that occasionally goes off in unpredictable directions, the inability to maintain appropriate distance in human relationships – could all these be manifestations of his awkwardness?

“Even if I have to kill everything that gets in the way.”

Choi Gang-hu, who had insisted on placing the bouquet too large to comfortably hold in his arms, smiled languidly.

“So stay by my side forever.”

Inhaling the thick floral scent that was almost suffocating, Ryu Seo-ha quietly looked down at the bouquet of roses.

“There’s no use in running away.”

As clouds covered the moonlight and darkness fell, the color of the purple roses turned black.

“I’ll make you return to my side somehow. Even if I have to chase you to the ends of hell.”

If he said the touch caressing his cheek along with the chillingly affectionate voice made him feel at peace, would his sister click her tongue again saying it’s severe?

“What if you get tired of me?”

Perhaps encouraged by the light-swallowing clouds, his tongue moved on its own beyond control, carelessly revealing the anxiety he had long harbored.

He still didn’t know why Choi Gang-hu became interested in him. If that catalyst disappeared, his affection might cool as well.

There was no guarantee it wouldn’t leave for other reasons either. Nothing in the world is eternal. The faster it heats up, the higher the chance it will cool down just as quickly.

“Do you know what this is?”

Choi Gang-hu chuckled and suddenly opened his palm. As if summoning something from [Subspace], a small round object appeared on his empty palm.

The spiral shell, moist mucous body, and flexible antennae like horns – it was a taxidermy so lifelike one might mistake it for being alive even when seen up close.

“…An Exaggeration Snail.”

It was a species that once caused a hunting frenzy by swallowing magic stones and excreting exactly twice the amount, creating scarcity due to its extremely small population and short lifespan.

“It’s the first monster I ever tamed in my life.”

Choi Gang-hu nodded and gently stroked the head of the taxidermied snail. It was a touch that felt like remnants of affection.

“As you can see, it’s still by my side even after passing away.”

As far as he knew, all of Choi Gang-hu’s summoning skills were abilities obtained in the early stages of entering the Abyss. It meant he had kept this taxidermy piece for nearly 300 years.

“That’s the kind of person I am.”

As Ryu Seo-ha stared at a loss for words, Choi Gang-hu smiled coolly while tucking his disheveled hair behind his ear. Had he really gone crazy? Absurdly, it was reassuring. As his sister said, there was no worse case than this.

He hadn’t even sung of eternal love pleasantly saying there’s no chance of getting tired. Yet the thought occurred that even if he lost his usefulness, he wouldn’t be cast aside right away.

That didn’t mean courage to confess about his terminal illness suddenly welled up. He didn’t want to be coldly taxidermied as a byproduct of old memories like the Exaggeration Snail.

“…Was the Swiss account one of the methods to block my escape?”

Fiddling with the bouquet in his arms, Ryu Seo-ha asked with difficulty.

“At first.”

Choi Gang-hu readily affirmed while making him walk on the path of red rose petals surrounded by candles.

“On the day we first met, I got it from Go Younghun.”

Led to a large heart-shaped pile of candles, he was seated on a soft sofa prepared in the middle of the helipad.

“Later, I thought about paying it off for you.”

Choi Gang-hu, who had been standing opposite, bent one knee to match eye level with him sitting on the sofa.

“At some point, I wanted to help. To allow Ryu Seo-ha to clear the debt on your own.”

Then he pressed his lips firmly to the inside of his slender white wrist. The intention to question and interrogate everything quickly evaporated.

“…Why?”

The only question he managed to spit out was a single flimsy word.

“Because I realized. That you would be more satisfied that way.”

“…”

Amusingly, he couldn’t blame Choi Gang-hu, who smiled while languidly caressing with his thumb the wrist he had just been nibbling with his lips.

Had anyone ever considered his feelings so carefully before? Except for the family he met after reincarnation, it was definitely the first time. His heart greatly stirred.

“…In the S-class dungeon.”

He hesitated as he tried to bring up the topic he had been avoiding after mustering courage. It was because cold raindrops shyly tapped on his skin with a pitter-patter.

A drizzle began to fall. Choi Gang-hu clicked his tongue softly and stood up. Just as he was about to say they should probably move somewhere else.

“Ugh.”

The wind surged upwards fiercely. As he frowned at the sudden updraft and tried to cover his face, he had to stop again.

It was because he witnessed an unbelievable scene. The wind, twisting and coiling like a writhing dragon, pushing away the mass of rain clouds that had been covering overhead.

Before long, the rain stopped. The sight of a heavy downpour accompanied by strong winds pouring down over the night view spread below the railing caught his eye.

“Maybe I should have attached a water resistance item too.”

As he blankly stared at the flooded downtown, Choi Gang-hu’s hand gently brushed his now damp hair.

You are exposed to the effect of the skill ‘Flame Storm’.

His wet hair quickly dried to a fluffy state. He could freshly appreciate how amazing the original protagonist’s mana control was.

To turn an attack skill normally used to burn enemies to death into something like a hair dryer. Is this what they call a waste of talent? He couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity.

“As expected. Ryu Seo-ha looks prettiest when smiling.”

Choi Gang-hu, who had bent down with his hand on the sofa backrest, kissed the tip of Ryu Seo-ha’s nose with a smack and gave an unexpected compliment. It was a kindness that disarmed tension in one breath, as always.

“Why don’t you ask?”

Perhaps thanks to that, he was able to bring up the awkward topic more comfortably than expected.

“About what?”

He fixed his gaze on Choi Gang-hu’s face as he plopped down in the seat next to him and asked back.

“About my memories you saw in the S-class dungeon.”

“I am curious.”

Whatever he recalled, his pitch-black eyes sank coolly.

“Was it very hard?”

The first question that followed made his heart well up for no reason. The surrounding environment covered in candles and roses in the quiet night seemed to encourage sentimental thoughts.

“…Just enough to save myself.”

Memories of growing up abused, the label of being a serial killer’s son, the guilt of standing by as victims died… He couldn’t break all those shackles.

But it seems it wasn’t hard enough to give up on life. Because he stubbornly endured those hellish times and lived on pretending to be fine.

“There were no adoption records.”

Though he probably had some idea already, Choi Gang-hu led the conversation in a common-sense flow. As if giving him the choice of whether to confess honestly or not.

“They’re memories from a past life.”

As expected, he just nodded lightly without showing any signs of surprise.

“Who was it? The person who hurt Ryu Seo-ha.”

“My father. The killer being reported on the news.”

“And your mother?”

“She ran far away. When I was about seven years old.”

Choi Gang-hu frowned at the calm answer without a hint of trembling.

“Shall I find those two and take revenge for you?”

His demeanor, as if he would cross dimensions right away to track them down, felt comforting. When he just smiled silently,

“I also came from wandering another world. For 300 years.”

A new confession followed.