"I sent them somewhere farther. Far enough they won’t even be able to show their faces around Gu Hongju again."

"Farther… where?"

Hongju’s confusion only deepened at the evasive answer. The grip on his hand tightened. The pressure from the ring began to hurt the bones in his fingers, but Hongju didn’t let out a single groan.

"Where else would bastards like that go if not hell?"

His eyes, which had been blinking slowly, opened wide. Mu-gyeong abruptly intertwined their fingers. The forceful grip, laced tight between them, pressed so hard that the back of Hongju’s hand turned pale.

"…Are they dead?"

Mu-gyeong looked down at the frail hand caught in his own, not struggling in the slightest, and finally opened his mouth. He had no choice but to acknowledge this was the moment he couldn’t avoid.