Mu Yichen blinked.

  Seo MinHyun’s jaw nearly dropped.

  Sitting lazily before them was someone who didn’t look like he belonged in a place like this no, someone who didn’t look like he belonged in this world at all.

  The stranger looked absurdly young, like a high school student who had yet to be worn down by the world. His complexion was impossibly pale, a clean ivory like fresh snow untouched by wind.

  His long lashes framed a pair of sleepy, half-lidded eyes the color of reddish-brown garnet, rare and mesmerizing beneath the dim, flickering light. His lips were thin, the natural pink hue softening the edge of his otherwise cool aura.

  His long, slightly tangled black hair only added to his unique beauty, messy, yet elegant in a way that was completely unintentional. His slim body, dressed in nothing but a casual oversized grey shirt and sweatpants, gave off an air of languid detachment.

  There was something in the way he sat, shoulders relaxed, chin slightly tilted, eyes barely giving them a glance, that made him look more like a disinterested noble watching court jesters than a stranger confronted by armed S-rank hunters in his home.

  And worst of all… he didn’t look scared.

  He didn’t even look confused.

  He looked bored.

  “…You’ve got to be kidding me,” Seo MinHyun finally whispered, eyes still wide.

  Mu Yichen’s gaze deepened as he observed the figure sprawled across the sofa.

  The boy, no, the young man looked to be no older than eighteen or nineteen, but there was something oddly timeless about him.

  Pale skin like porcelain. A straight, elegant nose. Full, slightly downturned lips that gave him a naturally solemn look. And those eyes, rare reddish-brown and heavy-lidded, held a strange, melancholic depth.

  His expression didn’t change, but the air around him did. It was weighty, like dusk settling over a silent street. A lazy sort of gloom clung to him, not threatening, but… detached. As though the world moved too quickly for him to care.

  And he didn’t look surprised by their presence.

  If anything, he looked like he was waiting for them to leave.

  Seconds passed in silence.

  Lee Aseok leaned slightly to the side, resting his elbow on the sofa arm, chin in hand. His reddish-brown eyes flicked toward the intruders again, emotionless, unreadable, unbothered.

  Mu Yichen and Lee Aseok’s eyes briefly met.

  It lasted only a moment, but something passed between them, something Mu Yichen couldn’t quite explain. A ripple of familiarity. A strange weight in his chest.

  Before he could speak, the silence was broken, not by Lee Aseok, but by Seo MinHyun.

  “Okay,” he said, crossing his arms with theatrical flair, “Are you mute? Or just rude?”

  Mu Yichen sighed, but said nothing.

  Seo MinHyun continued, his voice laced with irritation and dramatic flair. “Let’s start from the top. Who are you? Are you a hunter? If so, are you legally registered with HQ? Why the hell are you staying in a dead zone like this? Are you a squatter? Did your parents kick you out? Or are you just crazy and think this is a luxury resort?”

  Each question hit the air like a slap, loud and sharp.

  He paused, one hand dramatically on his hip as he waited, clearly expecting a flood of explanations.

  Mu Yichen remained where he was, arms relaxed, a faint smile on his lips as if humoring Seo MinHyun’s antics, though his eyes never left the boy on the couch.

  But no answer came.

  The strange boy simply… stared at them.

  He blinked, slow and indifferent.

  No change in posture. No sound. Just steady, half-lidded eyes that looked through them more than at them. As if he was only tolerating their presence out of politeness.

  Seo MinHyun’s mouth dropped slightly open. “...What, are you a doll? Can you talk or what?”

  Lee Aseok remained motionless. His breathing was soft and shallow, so still that if not for that small motion, they might have truly mistaken him for a highly realistic sculpture carved from cold marble.

  Mu Yichen tilted his head slightly. “...MinHyun.”

  “What? He’s being weird!”

  “He’s just not used to people,” Mu Yichen said gently, though his eyes lingered sharply on Lee Aseok’s face.

  Something’s off, he thought. Not just in the way the boy acted but in the way he felt.

  There was no mana signature they could clearly read. No sense of hostility.

  But… there was something else. A quiet pressure, like standing at the edge of a cliff at night, not dangerous, but overwhelming.

  The room was unusually quiet.

  Rain continued to beat heavily against the cracked windows, the gray light from the sky casting shadows across the dusty but orderly hall.

  The television continued to hum softly in the background, playing some mid-tier drama about a hunter and a healer falling in love.

  But no one in the room was watching it.

  All eyes were on the boy on the sofa.

  He blinked slowly once, then again, gazing at Mu Yichen and Seo MinHyun without emotion. His breath was calm. Too calm.

  So much so, that for a moment, they truly considered the possibility that he wasn’t entirely human.

  Seo MinHyun frowned.

  “I’m being ignored…” he muttered under his breath. His brows twitched. “Me. Ignored.”

  It was a rare event.

  An impossible one.

  Seo MinHyun, the future successor of Flame Serpent Guild, a face on billboards, a hunter constantly bathed in the spotlight, was being… treated like background noise?

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  He leaned forward, voice sharp and tinged with disbelief. “Oi. Are you mentally stable or what?”

  The boy on the sofa didn’t answer right away.

  He simply turned his gaze toward Seo MinHyun, eyes still half-lidded, posture still lazy, as if even sitting upright would take too much effort.

  Then quietly, he shook his head.

  Seo MinHyun stared at him. “You mean you’re not mentally okay?”

  Another blink. But this time, it wasn’t clear if it was a yes or no.

  Seo MinHyun scoffed and jabbed a finger in his direction. “You? You’ve been staring at us like we’re paint on a wall and not saying a word! What is this, a silent horror film?!”

  Still… no response.

  The only movement was the slow rise and fall of Lee Aseok’s chest.

  Seo MinHyun made a strangled sound of frustration and turned to Mu Yichen, his hands flailing. “He’s messing with me. He has to be messing with me.”

  But Mu Yichen didn’t share his annoyance.

  He was still seated gracefully on the nearby couch, long legs crossed, a small smile playing at his lips.

  He looked calm.

  Too calm.

  “Maybe he’s just overwhelmed,” Mu Yichen said gently. “He looks… very young. Possibly a high schooler? Maybe he ran away. Maybe things weren’t good at home.”

  Seo MinHyun stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “Why are you defending this brick wall of a person?”

  Mu Yichen ignored him and turned back to the silent boy. “Are you having financial troubles?” he asked, voice low and kind. “Is that why you’re staying here?”

  Still, no answer.

  Not a nod. Not a shake of the head. Just the soft hum of the television and the sound of the rain outside.

  But Lee Aseok… was listening.

  Every word.

  Every expression.

  He was aware of it all.

  And still, he said nothing.

  He didn’t want to.

  Seo MinHyun stood abruptly, looking like he might combust from sheer indignation. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, ruffling his own hair. “He’s acting like this to test me. Is this some kind of prank? A dare? "Let's see how long Seo MinHyun can hold in his temper before he explodes!’?”

  Mu Yichen sat on the sofa and leaned towards Lee Aseok.

  There was no pressure in his movements. No force. Only a gentle calmness that carried with it the weight of someone used to commanding attention, not with volume, but presence.

  “You don’t have to say anything,” Mu Yichen said softly. “But I don’t think you should stay here.”

  He paused, then offered the faintest smile, kind and distant, the kind of smile someone offered a frightened animal.

  “You can come with us. I’ll find a better place for you. Something warm. Quiet. Safe.”

  Seo MinHyun’s jaw dropped. “When did you become a bleeding-heart social worker?”

  Mu Yichen ignored him.

  His eyes were focused only on Lee Aseok, and his voice remained steady. “You don’t have to pay me. Not now. Not ever, if you don’t want to. I don’t need money.”

  He said it not with arrogance, but simple truth.

  A young man born with talent, background, and fame, Mu Yichen had never needed to struggle for material things. And now, he was offering some of that privilege to a stranger sitting on a sofa in the middle of a ruin.

  But Lee Aseok….

  Lee Aseok’s eyes narrowed slightly.

  His fingers twitched once where they rested on the couch cushion.

  Kindness.

  He didn’t doubt Mu Yichen’s sincerity.

  That was the problem.

  He had seen this smile before. Had watched this man give warmth, protection, and gentle words in another lifetime to someone else.

  To a different version of the world.

  And that version had died.

  Now, this very same warmth… was offered to him.

  But Lee Aseok didn’t want it.

  He didn’t want anything that came from Mu Yichen.

  No matter how genuine it looked.

  He leaned back again, the same lazy, expressionless posture returning. His gaze slipped away from Mu Yichen’s face and drifted to the flickering TV.

  He said nothing.

  Did nothing.

  But inside…

  Inside, he resisted.

  He wouldn’t follow.

  He wouldn’t obey.

  Especially not this man.

  The soft hum of rain outside continued, steady as breath.

  Inside the room, time seemed to freeze again.

  Lee Aseok didn’t say a word.

  He simply moved.

  Slowly…painfully slowly. like an old machine coming back to life.

  Under the curious eyes of Mu Yichen and the increasingly impatient glares of Seo MinHyun, he leaned forward. His movements were silent, almost eerie in their lack of urgency.

  Then, from beneath the folds of a blanket on the sofa, he pulled out a phone.

  The screen lit up as he tapped it a few times with his thumb lazily, carelessly, almost as if even that effort was too much.

  Then, wordlessly, he held the phone up toward them.

  Seo MinHyun blinked. “What’s this?”

  He stomped forward, snatched the phone, and glanced at the screen.

  And froze.

  “…You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

  His voice had lost its usual arrogance, replaced now by something baffled and unreadable.

  Seo MinHyun looked at the boy. Looked back at the screen. Looked again at the worn clothes, the plain t-shirt clinging to his damp frame, the sparse food still half-eaten on the coffee table, instant noodles, a half-sliced apple, and some biscuits.

  Then he slowly turned back to Mu Yichen, and shoved the phone into his hands without a word.

  Mu Yichen tilted his head slightly, curious.

  And then he saw it.

  A bank app.

  The screen displayed one thing.

  ?378,214,823,000.

  Mu Yichen stared for a second longer than usual.

  Even for someone of his stature, with wealth and prestige behind his name, this number was… abnormal.

  Not because of the zeros.

  But because of the boy in front of him.

  A silent figure who hadn’t spoken more than a gesture, sitting in a collapsing building in the most dangerous zone, wearing clothes that wouldn’t cost more than ten thousand won altogether.

  The only illumination in the room was the TV screen and the cold light of that absurd bank balance.

  Mu Yichen looked at thw silent stranger with the deep gaze.

  His brows furrowed just slightly, but the smile never left his lips.

  “…I see.”

  Seo MinHyun sat down heavily, folding one leg over the other with a frown. “You see?” he repeated. “That’s all you’ve got to say?”

  Mu Yichen turned his head to look at him, calm. “Yes.”

  Seo MinHyun stared at Lee Aseok again. “Okay, explain this to me,” he said, waving his arms toward the figure on the couch. “You’re telling me this guy is richer than most small countries and he’s living here? With dusty couches, instant ramen, and a TV older than my grandma’s taste in fashion?”

  Lee Aseok didn’t flinch at any of the words.

  The sound of rain hadn’t stopped. It echoed through the broken streets of the west zone like whispers from ghosts long gone.

  Inside the dim building, under the flickering light of the TV and the low hum of power still somehow flowing through old wires, the silence was much louder than any storm.

  Mu Yichen placed the phone gently back onto the table. His expression was calm, his tone polite but there was weight in his words.

  “You shouldn’t stay here,” he said, his voice carrying a softness that could almost be mistaken for concern. “The gates may be dormant now, but the west zone is unstable. If the government finds out someone’s living here, especially illegally, they’ll send agents.”

  He let that sink in before continuing.

  “You should get to a safer place. You have the means to do that.”

  Seo MinHyun finally leaned back into the old leather sofa, one leg crossed over the other with dramatic flair. His expression, however, was serious for once.

  “Yeah. I mean, even if you’re eccentric, filthy rich people usually are living in the middle of a ghost town with monsters wandering around? Not smart. Not safe. Not stylish.”

  He gestured around with theatrical disgust. “This place doesn’t even have heating. My hair’s going to frizz if we stay too long.”

  Still, the boy on the sofa, Lee Aseok, didn't respond.

  He didn’t nod. Didn’t shrug.

  His red-brown eyes, framed by long black lashes, simply watched them. Silent. Unmoved.

  Mu Yichen didn’t appear bothered. He simply waited, as if silence were part of the conversation.

  Then, when he saw Lee Aseok’s hand slowly move again, toward the phone, he leaned forward and gently passed it to him.

  But Lee Aseok didn’t take it.

  He looked at Mu Yichen with that same empty gaze and retracted his hand like a cat deciding the effort wasn’t worth it.

  Mu Yichen let out a soft chuckle. His smile remained, but his gaze sharpened slightly as he returned the phone to the table.

  This boy was strange. Distant. Cold.

  But there was something magnetic about his indifference.

  Seo MinHyun groaned dramatically. “Do you even know who we are?”

  Nothing.

  Not even a blink.

  “…Wow,” Seo MinHyun muttered, running a hand through his hair. “This is truly a new experience. I’ve never been this patient in my life. It physically hurts.”

  But as he spoke, Lee Aseok moved again.

  With that same slow, measured pace, he picked up the phone, this time on his own, and began tapping on the screen.

  Tap.

  Tap.

  Tap.

  Then silence again.

  The soft hum of the rain tapping against the cracked windows was the only sound that filled the room… until the slow, deliberate tapping of fingers against a phone screen broke it.

  Seo MinHyun crossed his arms, brows twitching. His patience was wearing thinner than his designer socks.

  Lee Aseok, the strange boy on the couch, finally finished typing and lifted the phone with that same snail-paced, indifferent motion. He didn’t even look like he cared if anyone read it.

  Before Seo MinHyun could lunge forward to snatch it, Mu Yichen, as always one step ahead, gently took the phone from Lee Aseok’s hand.

  With his usual soft smile, Mu Yichen glanced down at the screen, expecting perhaps a sarcastic comment or something.

  Instead, what he saw made even his refined features pause.

  The gentle smile on his lips froze ever so slightly.

  His gaze remained calm, but his fingers tightened imperceptibly on the phone.

  “…Yichen?” Seo MinHyun called, squinting. “What? What’s written on it now? Don’t tell me he texted a poem.”

  Still receiving no answer, Seo MinHyun snatched the phone.

  And then he went silent.

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