PV Ch.10 Part 5

“Did you behave yourself?”

“…..”

“Why haven’t you touched your food? Don’t you like what we brought you?”

Bomin’s face was blank, unreadable, as he watched the man enter the room. The uneaten meals from the past few days sat on trays by the door, a silent testament to his lack of appetite.

The man nudged the trays aside with his foot, then stepped closer, cupping Bomin’s face in his hands. Bomin looked thinner, his features sharper, his skin paler. The untreated injuries and the lack of sustenance were taking their toll. 

“Are you mad at me for being late? Something came up, I had to take care of it. Come on, don’t be like this.”

His voice was cajoling, his touch lingering possessively on Bomin’s smooth skin. He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners, but Bomin simply stared at him, his gaze cold and distant. 

“Does your stomach hurt? Are you still full from my c*m?” 

The man’s hand trailed down from Bomin’s face, his fingers brushing against the bruised skin of his neck. He pulled the sheet away with his other hand, his gaze lingering on the only part of Bomin’s body that wasn’t worryingly thin. 

“You’re not Jeong Hotae. I know that.”

“What are you talking about, Bomin-ah? You’re really upset, aren’t you? Saying such strange things.”

The man stopped, his movements stilled by the rasp in Bomin’s voice. He leaned closer, his face inches away from Bomin’s. 

He was so close that their lips would have touched if Bomin had tilted his head even slightly. But Bomin’s lips remained firmly pressed together, his gaze unwavering despite the intensity of the man’s stare.

“Mmm…”

The man’s lips pressed against Bomin’s, a sudden, forceful kiss. Bomin flinched, pulling away, his brow furrowed in disgust. The man chuckled, licking a bead of blood from the corner of his mouth.

“Ugh…”

Bomin gasped as he was shoved onto the bed, landing on his stomach. He felt a sharp pain on his cheek, then another. Blood trickled from his nose, staining the sheets.

He saw stars, his vision blurring. He whimpered, his shoulders shaking. 

“Why did you bite me? Now, now, Bomin-ah, you know you shouldn’t do that. It’s your fault, isn’t it?”

The man’s voice was a mocking coo, his fingers tracing a soothing path along Bomin’s trembling shoulders. He leaned down, his lips brushing against Bomin’s spine, leaving a trail of fiery kisses that mirrored the blooming bruise on his cheek. 

“Let’s clean you up. Come on, let’s go to the bathroom.” 

“Get… Get away from me, you psycho…”

Bomin scrambled away, pulling himself towards the headboard, desperate to escape the man’s touch. A trail of blood followed him, splattering the sheets. 

“Why are you being so difficult today? Still mad about the choking thing? You were squeezing me so deliciously, I couldn’t help myself.”

The man’s words were infuriating, an absurd justification for his cruelty. Bomin laughed, a hollow sound, his gaze fixed on the man with a cold hatred. 

He could taste blood, his mouth filling with the metallic tang. His vision was starting to blur, one eye obscured by the swelling on his cheek. He swore he would kill this man. He wouldn’t let this stand. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt him like this and get away with it.

The rage burning inside him, the sense of violation… It was too much. He couldn’t even pretend anymore, couldn’t summon the energy to play along.

“Ugh… You… bastard…” 

The man seemed to derive pleasure from hurting Bomin, his gray eyes gleaming with a perverse satisfaction. He grabbed Bomin by the hips, flipping him onto his stomach, then buried his face in Bomin’s ass.

Bomin kicked out, his foot connecting with the man’s lower body. But he was weak, his movements sluggish. It was a pathetic attempt at resistance, his foot brushing against the man’s groin, adding to his arousal rather than deterring him.

He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for the pain.

And then…

The wall exploded inwards, showering the room in debris and dust. A wave of killing intent, cold and sharp, washed over the room, silencing the man’s moans.

“Lee Bomin…!” 

Song Jaeho’s gaze swept across the room, searching for Bomin. He was disheveled, his clothes torn and bloodstained, his usual meticulous appearance a distant memory. 

His eyes landed on the bed, on Bomin’s naked, vulnerable form, his face swollen and bruised. He saw the blood, the fear in Bomin’s eyes, and something inside him snapped. The debris that littered the floor, remnants of the destroyed wall, began to rise, suspended in mid-air. 

“We have uninvited guests.” 

The man, his er*ction still exposed, scrambled to his feet, adjusting his clothes. He didn’t seem fazed by Song Jaeho’s sudden appearance, by the murderous rage emanating from him.

“You… I’m going to kill you.”

Song Jaeho’s vision was tinged red, his anger a physical force that threatened to consume him. The danger level on his wristband spiked, the numbers climbing rapidly.

“By all means, try.”

The debris, now compressed into dense, spherical projectiles, shot towards the man with deadly force. Each one was imbued with enough power to injure, even kill, a weaker Esper. 

The man moved with a speed that defied logic, his body a blur as he dodged each projectile with terrifying precision. 

He gestured towards the shadows that stretched across the floor and walls, twisting them, manipulating them until they rose, taking on a life of their own. They surged towards Song Jaeho, a wave of darkness. 

Song Jaeho stumbled, his movements suddenly clumsy, as if an invisible force was pulling at his limbs. The shadows were affecting him, slowing him down. His eyes narrowed, his anger burning even brighter.

“Song Jaeho, where’s Bomin?”

Han Biseong, his own appearance disheveled, his clothes torn, vaulted over the remnants of the wall. He glanced at Song Jaeho, his expression grim, then his eyes widened as he saw Bomin huddled on the bed. 

“…Damn it.” 

Song Jaeho, despite his rage, had instinctively shielded Bomin with a barrier of debris, delaying their discovery. 

“Lee Bomin. Wake up.”

Han Biseong scooped Bomin up in his arms. His limbs were limp, his body unresponsive. Bomin’s eyes fluttered open, his gaze unfocused, the light gone from them. 

His pupils were dilated, his breathing shallow, one eye swollen shut. Blood trickled from his nose, painting a gruesome picture that made Han Biseong understand Song Jaeho’s fury. 

He followed the trail of blood down to Bomin’s neck, his gaze snagging on the dark bruises, the fingerprints that stood out against Bomin’s pale skin. He hissed, a sound of pure rage. 

“Kill that bastard.”

He would have been right there beside Song Jaeho, his own power surging out of control, if he wasn’t holding Bomin. But seeing Bomin hurt… It was different from inflicting pain himself. It was personal.

He didn’t need to tell Song Jaeho. Song Jaeho was already attacking, his fury unleashed. But the man was fighting back, manipulating the shadows, creating a shield of darkness that deflected Song Jaeho’s attacks. 

He wasn’t just defending, either. He was counterattacking, launching shadowy daggers towards Song Jaeho with deadly precision. 

Song Jaeho dodged most of them, but one found its mark, slicing through his cheek, leaving a gash that oozed blood. Song Jaeho simply smiled, wiping the blood away with the back of his hand. 

“Good. I wouldn’t want this to be too easy.”

He gathered the debris in his hands, shaping it into a massive fist, reinforced with jagged shards of rebar. It was as large as his torso, a weapon of pure destructive power. 

He launched himself at the man, his movements blurring with speed. The man blocked each blow, his arms encased in a shield of shadows, the impact of each strike echoing through the room like an explosion.

“Han Biseong, Won Seongwoo’s down!”

Han Biseong, who’d been wrapping his shirt around Bomin’s shivering form, looked up sharply. Bomin had lost consciousness again, his body slumping against Han Biseong’s chest.

Yoon Bisam, his clothes torn and bloodied, his expression grim, stood in the newly created opening in the wall.

“I haven’t killed this bastard yet. What do you mean, Won Seongwoo’s down?” 

“They used Guides as shields. Guides they’d captured, just like Lee Bomin. Won Seongwoo wouldn’t hurt them.” 

“Those bastards…”

He’d suspected it, after seeing Bomin’s condition, but seeing it confirmed… These people treated Guides like objects, like tools to be used and discarded.

“What about the Guides?”

“…We couldn’t save them all. They managed to drag a few away with them. The ones we rescued are by the entrance we came in from. Won Seongwoo’s guarding them.”

“What about backup?”

“We got a call ten minutes ago. An S-rank dungeon opened up in Dongjak District. We need to get back to HQ as soon as possible.”

The Association still had S-ranks at their disposal, but even they would struggle with an S-rank dungeon. 

“How the hell did they get this powerful?” 

“They have more A-ranks and S-ranks than we anticipated. If we hadn’t stumbled on that hidden entrance, we would never have made it this far.”

Han Biseong gritted his teeth, frustrated. Yoon Bisam’s gaze was fixed on the man fighting Song Jaeho, his expression cold and calculating.

Both their danger levels were climbing, nearing the yellow zone. Biseong was at 58, Bisam at 59. Anything above 60, and they’d risk losing control. 

They couldn’t afford to push themselves any further. They had to get Bomin, and the other Guides, back to the Association. That’s why Song Jaeho, whose danger level was still relatively stable, was handling the enemy alone.

And then, a new sound, a low rumble that made their blood run cold.

“…What’s that?”

“Looks like they’re planning to bury us all.”

The ground beneath their feet trembled, the ceiling cracking ominously. The initial rumble was followed by a series of explosions, a chain reaction that seemed to be spreading throughout the entire structure.

Debris rained down on them, a torrent of wood, stone, and earth. 

They were inside a mountain, in Non-K’s hidden base, a labyrinth of tunnels carved into the heart of the mountain.

“Song Jaeho, we need to get out of here! Now!” 

Han Biseong shielded Bomin’s face against the dust cloud that engulfed them, pulling him closer. Yoon Bisam was freezing the falling debris, but it was only a temporary solution. 

“Too bad you couldn’t kill me.”

The man smiled, his gray eyes gleaming with malicious amusement. Song Jaeho roared, his power surging, focusing all his energy on crushing the man where he stood. 

“Song Jaeho!”

Yoon Bisam grabbed Song Jaeho’s shoulder, pulling him back.

“Let me go! I’m going to kill him!”

“Later. We need to get out of here. If we stay any longer, Bomin will die. We need your powers to get through this. You know that.”

An S-rank Esper could probably survive being buried alive, but Bomin…

“Lee Bomin’s barely breathing.” 

Song Jaeho froze, Han Biseong’s words cutting through his rage. 

“See you around.”

The man’s voice echoed in the collapsing tunnel as he dissolved into shadows, vanishing without a trace. Song Jaeho ignored him, his gaze fixed on Bomin. 

Han Biseong was right. Bomin’s breaths were shallow, almost imperceptible. His skin, where it wasn’t bruised or bloodied, was an alarming shade of pale, almost blue.

Song Jaeho’s hand hovered over Bomin’s face, his touch feather-light, afraid of inflicting more pain. 

“Lee Bomin, don’t stop breathing. I’m so sorry I was late. If you die here…”

“Song Jaeho, snap out of it! He’s alive. Barely, but he’s alive. We need to get him out of here before it’s too late. We’re out of healing potions, remember?”

Yoon Bisam, who’d been freezing the collapsing tunnel since the man’s disappearance, shook Song Jaeho out of his daze.

Song Jaeho cursed, his lips bleeding from the force of his bite. He focused his power, aiming it towards the nearest exit, clearing a path through the rubble.