JD 136

The familiar scent that wrapped around him was tinged with the sharp, metallic smell of blood. And as the brutal scene unfolded before his eyes, Hakyung’s face contorted in anguish.

The knife Kim Taeyoung had swung had pierced Muheon’s shoulder, not his own. His hands trembled uncontrollably in disbelief.

Why… why did that terrifying knife end up in his husband’s shoulder? How did he even get in here? How… how…?

Hakyung’s breathing grew ragged, overwhelmed by a storm of thoughts and the fear that Muheon might be seriously hurt.

He wrapped his arms around Muheon’s shoulder. With his small hands, he pressed down on the wound as if trying to stop the bleeding. His fingers trembled even harder than before. What was he supposed to do now?

They had to escape before Kim Taeyoung raised the knife again. Or should he… should he stab Kim Taeyoung first? If he just moved fast enough…

Hakyung’s eyes locked on the bloodied knife that had fallen to the floor. He started to shift his body toward it.

“Hakyung, are you okay?”

A low, yet gentle voice whispered in his ear. Hakyung whipped his head around to meet Muheon’s gaze. His brows were drawn in pain, but the corners of his mouth lifted into a smile.

Seeing that smile shattered Hakyung’s heart. It felt like his insides had completely melted away. Looking at the blood that now stained his own hands, Hakyung stood frozen.

“K-Kim Taeyoung…! You’re hurt… it hurts, doesn’t it? What do we do…?”

“Shhh, I’m okay. As long as you’re not hurt, that’s all that matters. Don’t cry.”

He hadn’t even realized he was crying. Muheon, with his uninjured hand, gently wiped the tears from Hakyung’s cheeks. A quiet sob escaped him, growing louder with each breath.

Muheon wrapped one arm around the back of Hakyung’s small head and rested it gently against his good shoulder. Then, he turned to look behind him.

Just as if he’d been waiting, Beom Urim met his gaze. Their eyes exchanged a few silent messages. And in the next moment, Beom Urim had already clamped his large hand over Kim Taeyoung’s face, knocking him unconscious.

Despite the trouble, Beom Urim was in a good mood, both because he’d finally captured his prey and because he’d had the rare privilege of witnessing the West Sea imigu’s all-consuming love with his own eyes.

Three minutes earlier, Beom Urim had furrowed his brow in disbelief at the dreadful scene before him.

“…Shit.”

It looked like this mission was going to end in failure.

But there was a big difference between a regular failure and a catastrophic one. If even a single strand of Kang Hakyung’s hair was harmed… well, even Beom Urim was afraid of the consequences.

Just as he started moving to prevent that outcome, a pitch-black figure had darted forward faster than he could react.

He hadn’t even had time to say, “Wait a second.” Beom Urim blinked as he saw Muheon throw himself in front of Hakyung.

Why the hell is Muheon over there…?

Even someone like Beom Urim, known among the beastmen of the sea as a lunatic, couldn’t keep his usual smile in a moment like this.

He could’ve just flicked his fingers. There was no need to throw himself in front of the blade. What the hell was he thinking?

Beom Urim felt his blood boil. He now looked like the incompetent subordinate who let his master get hurt.

“What the hell are you doing?” he whispered. So quietly, no human could have heard.

Muheon answered just as quietly, barely audible to Beom Urim alone.

“What?”

“I said, what the hell are you doing! You said you didn’t want to let Hakyung see blood!”

Beom Urim’s eyes flicked toward Hakyung, then back. The implication was clear: you think it’s okay for him to see you with a knife wound and blood pouring out?

Muheon opened his mouth, looking momentarily taken aback. Of course he knew using his powers would’ve been cleaner than throwing himself in the way. But by the time he came to his senses, he was already shielding Hakyung.

Even now, he kept a firm hold on the back of Hakyung’s head, trying to keep him from seeing any more.

Beom Urim made a sour face. The legendary West Sea imugi, known for being cold and logical, had acted purely on instinct?

He could’ve ended a human like Kim Taeyoung effortlessly, without a scratch. Yet just because Kang Hakyung was in front of him, he’d chosen to be the shield. It was laughable… and heartbreakingly sincere.

Beom Urim wasn’t even surprised anymore that Muheon had gone this far to avoid letting Hakyung witness violence.

Still, he couldn’t help wondering: Would Hakyung really think, thank God Muheon was stabbed instead of me? He doubted it. From what he knew of Hakyung, that was the last thing he’d think.

But it was too late. The moment had already passed. The event had already unfolded.

So Beom Urim did what he had to do. He moved behind Kim Taeyoung.

Kim Taeyoung was so shocked by what he’d done that he hadn’t even noticed anyone approaching. No, he wouldn’t have been this stunned if he’d stabbed Hakyung. He was frozen in place because someone unexpected had interfered.

Still not grasping the situation, Kim Taeyoung stood dumbfounded. Beom Urim reached out and clamped a hand over his mouth.

Startled, Kim Taeyoung’s eyes flew open and his legs flailed, but the resistance was feeble. It was like a bug wriggling, pathetic.

Beom Urim sneered. To think he’d lost credibility with the West Sea imugi over this pathetic human.

He applied light pressure to Kim Taeyoung’s face and carotid artery. The man’s wildly trembling pupils rolled back almost instantly, and he collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. Not even a scream escaped him.

Thunk—something fell out of Kim Taeyoung’s pocket. His phone. The screen showed he’d been trying to call Moon Chiwoon.

“Up we go.”

Beom Urim casually picked up the phone and looked back at Muheon. The West Sea imugi, still soothing a sobbing Hakyung, gestured silently: Get lost.

Yes, yes. As you command, Beom Urim thought as he quickly left the scene. Then he called Ki Sang-oh.

“Sang-oh, I’ve got Kim Taeyoung. But… I need help.”

— You caught him? Where are you? I’m coming now!

He could hear the clatter as Sang-oh rushed off. Beom Urim hoisted the unconscious man onto his back.

It wasn’t every day you saw someone piggybacking a grown man in broad daylight, but no one stopped him. No one was nosy enough to get involved in this chaos.

Beom Urim exited the stadium more easily than expected and waved when he saw Ki Sang-oh sprinting toward him.

Beads of sweat sparkled on Sang-oh’s dark skin, and Beom Urim licked his lips. A tiny clicking sound, like that of a hungry predator, rumbled in his throat.

“How’d you catch him?”

“Mmm, I’ll tell you later. For now, help me load him in the car?”

“Got it!”

Sang-oh reached to take Kim Taeyoung, but Beom Urim refused. His hand swiped awkwardly at empty air, then he cleared his throat and headed for the car.

When he opened the rear door, Moon Chiwoon was already crumpled inside, unconscious. Even if Kim Taeyoung had managed to call, the guy wouldn’t have made it.

Beom Urim dumped Kim Taeyoung beside him. He had plans for these two. His cozy little place was going to be busy tonight. In peaceful times like these, good prey was hard to come by, he wasn’t about to let them go to waste.

He felt full without even eating. Smiling, Beom Urim snapped his fingers as if he’d just remembered something.

“Oh right. Sang-oh, Muheon got hurt catching Kim Taeyoung.”

“…What?”

“He got stabbed. You should go—”

“You should’ve started with that, asshole!”

Sang-oh roared like a train engine and spun toward the stadium.

Then he stopped. He didn’t know the exact location.

So he stomped back toward Beom Urim, footsteps booming with frustration.

Feigning guilt, Beom Urim wiped his sweat for him.

“Sorry, I was flustered. It’s the bathroom near the staff corridor.”

“Got it.”

Sang-oh growled and took off. Even his anger was kind of cute, in its way.

Beom Urim shrugged, watching Sang-oh storm away. Looked like he’d have to work hard to stay on his good side for a while.

Sang-oh sprinted into the stadium the moment he heard Muheon had been stabbed, frantically scanning his surroundings.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, he didn’t need to ask where the bathroom was. The chaos had already drawn a crowd.

He shoved his way through the people clustered around the bathroom door, and saw Hakyung clutching Muheon’s wounded shoulder, face contorted in pain.

“Muheon!”

Sang-oh’s face turned pale as he shouted. Hakyung looked up at the familiar voice, eyes brimming with tears.

“Mister…!”

Muheon, more worried about Hakyung’s tears than his own pain, kept stroking his small face to calm him down. Sang-oh hurried over and helped support him.

“There’s an ambulance waiting outside!”

One of the team staff stepped in to help, and as they walked, the crowd parted like the Red Sea.