In the quiet stillness, Uijae rubbed the sole of his shoe against the floor. *Screech, screech*... It was the only sound that could calm his mind. Meanwhile, he placed his hand over Lee Sa-young's heart through the fabric and checked Hong Yesung, who had collapsed, by placing his fingers under his nose. Nam Woojin, who had promised to bring tools, still hadn’t returned. There was no sign of life anywhere. Slowly, Uijae began to sink into a fear he thought he had forgotten.

Hong Yesung opened his eyes about 20 minutes later. A sharp, scraping noise filled the room as something dragged across the floor. Grasping his pounding head, Hong Yesung lifted his upper body. Sitting on a chair and dragging a long sword across the floor, J looked at him. Hong Yesung blinked blankly before suddenly speaking.

“…Murderer?”

He closed his eyes, anticipating an immediate rebuttal. But instead of denying it, J tossed aside the sword and crouched down in front of Hong Yesung, staring at him intently.

“Are you… okay?”

“Huh? Uh, yeah, why?”

“Your chest... No.”