With that, the communication ended abruptly. Kwang Il glanced at the black screen and twisted his lips.

Oh Geun Seok, the chief of the KIS (Korea Intelligence Service) and overseer of the Sparrow Project, was also Kwang Il’s mentor during his rookie years. He had a knack for pushing people to their limits.

Wishing to be free from seeing him again, Kwang Il drove on.

Arriving at Chairman Song Myung Hwan’s residence, he found himself walking alongside Kwon Ki Joo to the annex where the guest rooms were located.

It was a good opportunity. Lately, Ki Joo was excessively diligent, and Kwang Il felt the need to relax him a bit.

Kwang Il, annoyed by Ki Joo’s disregard, spoke as he followed him.

“Will you go in first, or should I?”

Ki Joo, walking towards his room, turned to look at him briefly. Without a word, he opened the door and entered.

To kill or to spare him? Kwang Il pushed the door and entered.

Ki Joo, indifferent to Kwang Il’s presence, took off his shirt. His large, muscular body flexed even with the slightest movement.

“We’re not the only ones in this project. Don’t go creating problems where there aren’t any.”

Kwang Il was referring to tasks outside Chairman Song’s orders, like overly guarding Han Seung Yoon, interfering too much in Eun Chae’s matters, among others. Listing them all would be exhausting, so he succinctly summarized.

Despite the generous advice, Ki Joo did not react much but instead asked a question.
“You came quickly. I didn’t see Song Myung Hwan around.”

“He went to Heukseok-dong. As you know, he doesn’t take me along.”

Kwon Ki Joo silently stared back at him. Kwang Il felt oddly offended, as if Ki Joo was criticizing his incompetence. Despite this, an excuse-like response automatically came out of his mouth.

“Yeah, recently, there have been frequent visits to Heukseok-dong. But you know there’s nothing there. You probably don’t understand the feeling of visiting a friend who can’t even move a finger. He’s the only friend left for someone like him who doesn’t have a blood family.”

Friend.

The only one?

Such romance for Song Myung Hwan seemed utterly nonsensical. Kwon Ki Joo chuckled at this thought.

Sensing the implication of that laugh, Kwang Il rambled on.

“Song Myung Hwan is cunning, yes. But he’s also very afraid. He doesn’t have the guts to eliminate anyone.”

Ki Joo laughed out loud at that. As he was pulling a sweater over his head, Kwang Il couldn’t even make his displeasure known.

After putting on the sweater and straightening the sleeves, Ki Joo still wore an inexplicable smile. Kwang Il looked at him questioningly, to which Ki Joo nonchalantly replied.

“Right. He wouldn’t want to get his hands dirty himself.”

This statement struck Kwang Il as particularly ominous.

“Can I go now?”

Responding indifferently to that question, Kwang Il nodded. Ki Joo then grabbed a mug from the desk and left the room.

Noticing the room’s excessive cleanliness, Kwang Il frowned. The neatly arranged bed sheets, the empty desk, and the absence of even a piece of tissue on the table all seemed too meticulous.

What is this guy lacking?

Shaking his head in disapproval, Kwang Il stepped out into the living room and squinted his eyes.

“What’s this? Why is it like this?”

The CCTV camera pointing to the greenhouse was dysfunctional.

Busily moving small potted plants, Eun Chae suddenly turned around. Kwon Ki Joo, who had been indifferently stroking a Monstera leaf, met her gaze as if he had been waiting. His pupils, gleaming strangely under the dim lighting, seemed both blindly devoted and hollow.

Feeling an absurd pressure as if she might be swallowed up, Eun Chae averted her gaze.

Dressed in a black sweater and cotton pants, he appeared to be off-duty. Leaning on this fleeting thought, Eun Chae finally broke the silence.

“Don’t you have more work?”

“Yes.”

Then please leave, she wanted to say but couldn’t, as Ki Joo had comfortably settled himself on the edge of the flower bed. Unable to ask him to leave now that he had made himself at home, she resignedly asked him a favor.

“Could you help me move these, then?”

Figuring it was better than being watched like a hawk, she made the request.

Ki Joo, who had been fidgeting with his feet, readily agreed to help. He moved a particularly heavy and large pot for her.

Despite her whimsically changing her mind about the pot’s placement three times, he didn’t show any annoyance at her requests.
Next to her, Eun Chae crouched awkwardly in front of the moved pot, gathering the scattered soil. Kwon Ki Joo, who had been intently looking down, slowly bent his knees to sit.

Startled by his presence, Eun Chae turned her head towards him. It was a new angle to see him from, and she wondered why he didn’t look awkward at all.

Eun Chae’s body stiffened suddenly. Kwon Ki Joo was cleaning the dirt off her hands, brushing them off decisively as if stopping a child from playing in the mud.

“People usually wear gloves for this kind of work.”

His tone was flat, yet it was a clear reproach. Eun Chae felt embarrassed and her face flushed.

“I…,” she started.

“I like the feeling of soil on my bare hands.”

Cutting off her words, her eyes widened in surprise. Ki Joo spoke as if it was a trivial prediction.

“I know. But it makes your hands rough.”

As if hands that have never done rough work could get that rough. And here I am, covered in scars.

Thinking his concern was unnecessary, Eun Chae hesitated to withdraw her hand. While she dawdled, Ki Joo leaned his forehead on her shoulder after dusting off all the soil.

Instinctively, Eun Chae looked up at the CCTV. The red light blinking meant it was recording. Her heart pounded.

This shouldn’t be caught on camera. But I don’t want to push him away.

Biting her lip and deep in thought, she eventually turned her gaze away from the CCTV, her heart racing faster.

It felt like exhilaration, maybe even excitement.

“……Um, you know.”

“…….”

“About restoring the greenhouse….”

“…….”

“It’s all the same tools my mom used. Pretty similar.”

Ki Joo then let out an indecipherable snort. Eun Chae bowed her head to cover her flushed ears with her hair and mumbled softly.

“So, what I mean is… thank you.”

She barely got the words out. She felt the absence on her shoulder. The urge to turn and see his expression was strong, but she couldn’t. Her face must have been a mess with blushing. She didn’t want to be caught.

Eun Chae spoke more calmly.

“You did something I wanted without being asked. Kwon Ki Joo, you definitely have… enough value.”

She knew it wasn’t necessary to say that.

Was this pretense?

Yes, it was. Already feeling guilty, she couldn’t raise her head.

Then, she felt a cold yet soft touch on the nape of her neck, pressing down as if marking it. She couldn’t mistake what it was.

A chill similar to a shiver ran down her neck. Unwittingly, she grasped his shoulder and let out a soft moan.

“Uh…….”