Swishhhh—.

In the forest clearing, where only the sound of the enormous waterfall echoed, an unexpected banquet had been set up. While it seemed out of place, it surprisingly blended well with the scene.

The soft yellow glow of fireflies flitted between the gently swaying blades of grass, while the sparkling scales of underwater monsters swam gracefully beneath the falling water, creating a romantic atmosphere.

"Why aren’t you eating? You don’t like seafood?"

Choi Kanghu, who had been carefully preparing crab meat for Ryu Seoha, paused for a moment, puzzled by how she only looked around and wasn’t eating. His face radiated calmness, as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

"We don’t have much time…"

"We both eat quickly. We’ll finish and leave soon enough."

"Still…"

Even as she listened to his gentle reassurances, a part of her felt uneasy. It was hard not to think that, while they lingered here, people were suffering somewhere unseen.

"What good is it for me to save others if I starve to death?"

"You won’t die from skipping a meal for a day."

"And a few minutes won’t change much about the situation outside."

"Right now, the number of infected is increasing."

"That’s a problem we’ll have to handle all at once, no matter how many are infected."

He was absolutely right. The goal of the cult that spread the "Puppet Virus" wasn’t the extinction of humanity but rather to infect people with fear and anxiety. That was why the infected experienced cycles of active symptoms followed by periods of dormancy.

Even if someone was bitten and lost their sanity, eventually, they would regain their senses. The entire plan was orchestrated to make the world fearfully anticipate the moment everyone would fall under the puppeteer’s control.

"But Dr. Han must be hungry too. He’s still outside…"

"I’ll deliver him a meal when we move to the next gate."

Even when she brought up another reason that troubled her, Choi Kanghu easily countered it. His determination to ensure she ate was evident.

"...Fine. I’ll eat."

Resigned, Ryu Seoha finally picked up her chopsticks, which brought a bright smile to Choi Kanghu’s face, as though he had just completed a beautiful painting. It was a smile that perfectly suited the picturesque surroundings.

"Ah—."

Choi Kanghu skillfully cracked open a crab claw, presenting its tender, white meat to her. This had been his behavior ever since they were stranded on the island.

Without protest, Ryu Seoha opened her mouth like a baby bird being fed by its mother. She had learned from experience that resisting would only lead to a longer struggle.

She didn’t refuse the spicy fish stew he ladled into her mouth. Nor the rice he mixed in the crab shell, nor the hand that wiped the corners of her mouth. Becoming accustomed to such care was truly a frightening thing.

"You should eat too, Choi Kanghu."

"I am eating."

He smiled warmly, as though her concern made him happy. Even though she knew he hadn’t eaten a single bite while taking care of her, he brazenly lied.

After a moment of hesitation, Ryu Seoha reached for one of the king crab legs piled up at the corner of the table. Clumsily, she pulled the meat from the shell and brought it to his lips.

With a playful grin, Choi Kanghu laughed out loud and bit down on the food, playfully chomping on her fingers in the process. Startled, she pushed his forehead with her other hand, making him laugh even harder.

"What are you doing?"

"Tasting the main course."

"...Please, stop."

She was about to scold him for his over-the-top joke, but then hesitated. Just moments earlier, she had been on the verge of making the same type of nonsensical joke herself.

"I guess I’ve been influenced…"

"Hm?"

Choi Kanghu raised an eyebrow, curious about the muttered words that he didn’t fully understand, all while continuing to idly twirl her fingers around in his mouth as though he were savoring the taste.

Shaking her head, Ryu Seoha looked down at the pile of empty shells now accumulating on the ground. It had been ages since she had eaten seafood so freely. Perhaps not since childhood.

"My sister loves seafood too."

She mumbled absentmindedly, her thoughts drifting to Ryu Jeong-ah, who had been out of contact for some time. With no phone on her to check in, an odd sense of unease crept up, one she couldn’t easily shake off.

"What are you thinking about?"

Choi Kanghu’s voice lowered slightly as he watched her intently.

"My sister... do you think she’s doing okay?"

"You know how secure the house in Hannam-dong is."

"I do, but... I can’t help but worry since she’s stopped reaching out first. You’re sure everything’s fine, right?"

When her lover didn’t respond immediately, instead lightly tapping his fingers on the table, Ryu Seoha’s eyes widened in alarm. Then, Choi Kanghu slowly shook his head.

"Don’t tell me she’s been kidnapped again..."

"Ryu Jeong-ah is safe."

The words froze her mid-motion as she started to stand up. She was safe? The phrasing was oddly specific, as if he was implying there was a problem, just not with her safety.

"Then... what’s wrong?"

"She’s just deep in thought. Finally."

Before Ryu Seoha could press further, Choi Kanghu continued, and his words only deepened her confusion. What could her sister possibly be reflecting on, confined to the house in Hannam-dong? If he had said she was feeling stifled, that would have made more sense.

"I told her everything."

After using a skill to clean up the area in an instant, Choi Kanghu wiped his hands meticulously and spoke calmly.

"I told her what threats you’ve been facing and why you’ve been distancing yourself from her."

His expression was blank as he explained, but the way his eyes studied her face sent a chill down her spine.

"No..."

Ryu Seoha’s gaze faltered.

She had deliberately kept many things from her sister. The treatment she received at YH Capital, the suffocating countdown of her terminal condition, her past life, and the cult’s attempts to kidnap her—all of it had been concealed.

Even the things she had reluctantly shared were only surface-level. She had avoided going into detail, knowing her older sister would put on a brave face but secretly push herself too hard.

"Why... Why would you do that?"

It wasn’t the first time Choi Kanghu had acted this way. Back when they were stuck in the initial quarantine zone, Ryu Jeong-ah had often recklessly taken the lead in dangerous situations. She was the one who had jumped at the chance to enter dungeons as a combat hunter, while Ryu Seoha had vehemently opposed it.

But eventually, Ryu Jeong-ah had learned that her actions only heightened Ryu Seoha’s anxiety. So, she had gradually changed her behavior, accepting her younger brother’s sharp judgment and becoming the one who quietly gathered information and passed it along while maintaining an air of carefreeness.

"Because she was becoming a nuisance."

Choi Kanghu’s simple response was blunt.

"What did she do wrong?"

"She was happily living her life, completely unaware of the hardship you’ve been through. I couldn’t stand to watch it any longer."

He spoke as if he had been holding back for a long time, his voice low and chilling.

"She didn’t know…"

"And now she does."

"She must’ve been devastated. Knowing doesn’t change anything..."

"If she has any sense, she’ll take steps to stand on her own."

"How can I let that happen? The cult—"

"Why do you insist on sacrificing yourself? She’s older than you. Why do you keep protecting her like this?"

Ryu Seoha bit her lip, standing up in frustration as Choi Kanghu’s voice, laced with quiet anger, pierced through her thoughts. It was true—he hadn’t lived through that time with them, so he couldn’t understand her sister’s survival methods. To him, it probably looked like she had been aimlessly lounging around without a care in the world.

"…My sister."

Ryu Seoha took a deep breath, trying to sort out her tangled thoughts.

"We’ve learned to package ourselves differently on the outside."

Choi Kanghu frowned at the phrase, clearly irked by how she grouped herself and her sister together, but she couldn’t stop explaining now.

"Our packaging might be different, but both my sister and I express ourselves based on the survival habits we’ve picked up."

From Ryu Seoha’s perspective, his sister had been acting like someone constantly under threat since she woke from her coma. She masked her sharp warnings in jokes and hid her anxiety behind an exaggerated, carefree facade.

It was no different from how she had deceived and manipulated the thugs in the quarantine zone back then, hiding their fear and vulnerabilities behind a guise of triviality.

"Her way of expressing herself bothers me."

"And from her perspective…"

"I don’t want to hear any excuses on her behalf."

Choi Kanghu’s cold voice made Ryu Seoha fall silent. She knew full well that understanding and acceptance were two entirely different things.

"I understand why you’re so attached to your sister."

Choi Kanghu let out a soft sigh, his gaze fixed on her lowered lashes. When he spoke again, his voice had softened.

"She’s the only family left who gave you happy memories. It’s not easy to let go of that."

His gentle words felt like a conclusion—as though he were saying that, eventually, Ryu Seoha would have to let go.

"So now, I’ll be your new family."

Startled by his sudden declaration, Ryu Seoha slowly lifted her head. The glowing fireflies swirling in the air lit up Choi Kanghu’s face, creating a breathtakingly surreal scene.

"Whether we get married, or I adopt you."

In the midst of that enchanting view, the absurdity of his words melted into sweetness.