Jin Muhae was, by nature, a busy man. If there was money to be made, he’d skimp on sleep and run himself ragged. Growing up in the slums with nothing saved up taught him that—but even after his income became more than enough, he never stopped.It was all to cover his father’s pawned heirlooms: a total of 204,000 dil. He’d been hustling since his late teens to scrape together that terrifying sum.[“I will show you the path you must take.”]He’d burned his father’s rambling will—on Boss Gil’s advice—but the single line of the actual testament still weighed heavily on his heart for some reason. It was odd. His father in memory was that quiet old man tucked away in a backroom—only after his death did Muhae learn of a grade-1 criminal record. What exactly he’d done, Muhae did not know. Only that, as a result, Muhae himself could never hold down a normal job and remained in the slums.Seven years had passed since he’d started grinding. He’d managed to save about 170,000 dil. With rent in a proper neighborhood running around 500 dil a month, most people would have used that money to escape the slums and open a little shop. He was so close to his goal. Muhae tightened his belt and worked even harder, yet the meager stipend he allowed himself each month never seemed to rise.“I’ve brought you here, but that doesn’t mean I’m taking responsibility for you.”“La-la, la-la-la.”“I told you, you’re healthy—get your head straight and figure out how to fend for yourself.”“Hee-hee-hee, la-la-la.”A deep crease formed between Muhae’s brows as he packed his bag. He’d fed Joo-o until he was full, yet Joo-o just kept humming and acting like—well, like this. Muhae took a deep breath to quell his irritation. This guy was obviously not in his right mind; truly engaging with him would only be a loss for Muhae. Moreover, he hadn’t yet confirmed whether a high reward missing-person report existed. It smelled fishy, but until he knew for sure, it was easier to humor him.Who knew—maybe a wealthy family or some “owner” would show up and pay his entire target amount. If that happened, he could even keep Joo-o with him. He wouldn’t joke about money.“Also, stay put while you’re here.”And with that firm warning, he rummaged through the clothes he’d laid out. He was gathering his work gear—he’d need at least two days’ worth to refill that hole in his budget, so it was best to prepare thoroughly.Suddenly, Joo-o’s humming stopped as if cut off by a ghost. Muhae’s senses sharpened; on the bed, the counternarrative figure sprang to his feet and stared at him.“Where are you going?”“…”“Come with me.”More nonsense. Muhae flatly ignored him and slipped on his special jacket. Clack, clack—the hooks on the back of the worn jacket clicked as he attached his firearms one by one. Feeling sufficiently armed eased his nerves somewhat.“I see… you haven’t upgraded your armor yet.”Muhae ignored Joo-o’s muttering and pulled on his gloves. He dashed out, hoping to clear the city’s gate before sundown.“What should I wear?”“You’re wearing clothes.”“Should I go out like this?”“…Don’t go. Just lie there and sleep.”The moment he said it, Joo-o’s mouth flew open. Muhae had thought him oblivious, yet he recognized the preparations for going out instantly. As if he believed they were about to go out together—absurd. Muhae slung his bag over his shoulder without a word.Then — pitter-patter!Joo-o, who’d been glued to the bed, hauled himself up and hurried after Muhae. His vivid red eyes looked up with a strangely pitiful, earnest expression.“Come with me. I’ll help.”“Don’t be ridiculous.”“I’ll behave.”“Yes, you’ll behave—right here.”Muhae cut off the ludicrous request, and Joo-o stamped his foot in protest. Sunlight filtering in made his pale face gleam—eyebrows knitted in confusion, his lashes dark and striking, a small pert nose tempting a poke. He was undeniably handsome, but Muhae remained unmoved.Unlocking the front door with a shrug, Muhae was met with — rip!A tearing sound from behind. He spun around to see Joo-o holding one of his boots by the sole, torn to shreds.“…What are you doing?”“…”“You just destroyed my boot.”“I won’t stay still.”That madman. Muhae gaped. Those sturdy boots, made of hardened beast leather purely for practicality—how had he torn them apart? Now that he thought back to the stolen noodle bowl, nothing Muhae did could budge it from Joo-o’s grip. Despite his ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) delicate appearance, the kid was surprisingly strong. Muhae’s mind drifted to his own messy apartment—what havoc this boy could wreak there.“I feed you and you repay me like this?”“If I come, I’ll behave.”“Do you think we’re going on a trip?”“I know—it’s work.”Even that was an interruption. Muhae snatched up the flayed leather and growled, “I don’t have the luxury to worry about you, too.”“You don’t have to. I can manage alone.”“If you’re going to die, at least earn some money first.”“I won’t die. I won’t die.”Then the bravado evaporated. His pronunciation was fine, but the performance felt childish. …He really wasn’t right in the head. Take this guy outside the city? He’d be lucky not to wander off and get lost. Yet those red eyes brimmed with unshakeable resolve. Through seven years in the slums, Muhae had seen every kind of person, and those eyes were the kind you simply couldn’t persuade.“Damn.”Muhae realized instinctively that if he wanted no more interruptions, he’d have to take Joo-o at least to the gate and leave him there. He tapped his forehead, muttering, “I should’ve just dumped him at the clinic.” Of course, Dr. Jeong wouldn’t have let him, but it was a forlorn wish.He sighed deeply and turned back.“…Drawer on the left, second slot.”“Huh?”“Take the hooded jacket from there and put it on.”“Oh—okay!”“There’s no shoe your size. Pick any pair on the rack, tighten them up, and follow me.”“Got it.”“And again—this is not a pleasure trip. If you cause trouble, I’ll leave you behind. Understood?”“I understand!”No sooner had the permission fallen than his face brightened. Joo-o scampered off into the house. Muhae stared at the shredded boot pieces, closed his eyes, then opened them again. He had to endure it—this guy wasn’t right. A few days with him, and he could hand him over to his family or wherever. The makeshift vow echoed empty in his mind.Vroom—.The battered transport hovercar growled irregularly, jostling him uncomfortably. This was always how it was leaving through the city’s back gate—only city officials and slum laborers commuting to dangerous jobs went this way. Daily security checks were a hassle, so the higher-ups let the gate run light. After all, the proper residential areas were locked down with extra safeguards.“Can I take this off now?”“No. Keep it on. If you take it off, I’ll leave you here.”Joo-o buried his head beneath the hood of the jacket. His face was so hidden that Muhae doubted anyone could recognize him unless they were pressed right up to him. That was exactly how he intended to keep him hidden for now. Muhae pictured that sleek, glossy face beneath the hood—arched lashes, healthy lips, perfect white teeth, overall delicate yet soft features.“Unmissably well-managed looks,” he mused. He’d wager that selling him on some black market would cover the few tens of thousands of dil he still needed.“I won’t take it off.”If Muhae hadn’t picked him up, he’d probably be wandering some back-alley market by now. The thought made him feel oddly sorry for the boy—maybe his broken mind stirred Muhae’s sympathy after all.“When we get off, stay right behind me.”“Okay.”“Do exactly as I say. If I tell you to hide, you hide.”“Understood.”Still, was this really the right move? Muhae patted the bag at his side, sighing. He’d brought him along to prevent greater disaster, but they weren’t on a pleasure trip—nor was this a combat mission.“I’ll help.”Joo-o’s voice rose, completely unperturbed, as if he didn’t even know where he’d come from, brimming with bright confidence.Clank, hiss—.After about ten minutes past the dome, the sparse hovercar slowed. Ding-dong! A scratchy alert sounded and the view outside froze. They’d arrived at the “outside” of Goryeo City.“Buy me a hot dog.”As he disembarked, Joo-o whispered the request. Muhae raised one eyebrow and pretended not to hear, turning on his heel. Since the Comfort Zone depended on Crystal Blue, there were usually makeshift stops for miners just beyond the city limits. How this scatterbrained kid even knew about them to ask for food was beyond Muhae.“Hot dog.”“Eating that stuff will kill you early.”“It’s okay.”“My wallet’s not okay—just follow me quietly.”Fortunately, he wasn’t as insistent as he’d been about noodles. Muhae strode off and Joo-o trailed silently behind. He walked as if something far more exciting than food awaited him—so lively that from a distance, no one would guess he was anything but a normal passerby. The only giveaway was how thrilled he looked to be on his way to “work.”

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