PV Ch.19 Part 2

Jeong Hotae had been struggling, convulsing in pain, and yet, he remained chained.

“You know I can’t do that.”

Despite the gun pressed against his jaw, Seok Changmu was still calm. His gray eyes turned a shade of emerald green. 

His body shrank, his shoulders narrowing. His hair, starting at the tips, turned a silvery blonde.

He was still handsome, but his features were sharper, his expression colder, compared to Jeong Hotae. 

“Go ahead and shoot. You’re not the type to hesitate…” 

Bang, bang, bang.

Bomin’s hand was trembling, but he didn’t hesitate. 

It was an S-rank artifact, capable of injuring even an S-rank Esper. The mana bullets ripped through Seok Changmu’s flesh, his neck and face splattered with blood.

“You really… won’t listen to reason, will you?” 

Thud.

“Hng…”

Seok Changmu, turning his head at the last moment, avoided a fatal blow. He slammed Bomin against the wall, the impact making his head spin. 

Bomin’s face was red, his vision blurring. Seok Changmu, his expression pained, stared at him.

“I don’t understand! I’ve taken the form of the one you desire, and yet…!”

His eyes burned with a dangerous light. The veins in his neck throbbed, his grip on Bomin’s throat tightening. 

“Ah, uh…”

Bomin clawed at his hand, but it was no use. He struggled, kicking and punching, but his strength was insignificant compared to Seok Changmu’s.

His vision blurred, Jeong Hotae’s anguished face swimming before him. He closed his eyes, ready to accept his fate. 

Clang, thud.

The chains, unable to withstand Jeong Hotae’s struggles any longer, snapped. 

His right arm, still attached to a length of chain, hung limply at his side. 

His eyes were bloodshot, the veins in his neck and temples bulging. 

He staggered towards Seok Changmu, his body slamming against his. He had been starved and tortured, his powers suppressed. 

He could barely walk, his body weakened, but he was past the point of feeling pain. He had lost all reason. 

“Ugh…”

But Seok Changmu, using Jeong Hotae’s own power against him, grabbed him by the throat. His shadow-wreathed hand tightened.

His other hand was still clamped around Bomin’s neck. A sickening crack echoed as he twisted Jeong Hotae’s neck. 

Jeong Hotae’s eyes rolled back in his head, the whites completely bloodshot. It was a horrifying sight.

Bomin, seizing the opportunity, wrapped his legs around Seok Changmu’s waist, pulling him closer. 

“Jeong… Hotae…” 

The artifact he had used earlier was lying on the floor. It had five charges, which meant he had two shots left. 

His voice, strained from being choked, was barely a whisper. He couldn’t risk looking at the weapon, but he hoped Jeong Hotae understood.

“I wonder… if I kill you both… would that make you happy? To die together?”

Seok Changmu’s gaze was unhinged, fixated on the two struggling figures in his grasp. 

“I can’t bear to see that happen again. I’ll kill him first, then you. Or… maybe I’ll keep you alive, as a… pet. You’re so obsessed with s*x… maybe I’ll even have you mate with a monster…” 

Bang.

“Ah…”

Seok Changmu looked down, his voice cracking. A red hole was blooming in his stomach, growing larger by the second. 

“How…?”

His gaze fell on the artifact, which was floating in mid-air before falling to the floor. It was faint, but he could see the shadows manipulating it. 

The chains that had bound Jeong Hotae were enchanted, capable of suppressing even an S-rank Esper. They drained magic, leaving their victims powerless.

Jeong Hotae had been tortured relentlessly, but he had never been able to use his powers. 

“This is… impossible…”

The gunshot wound to his stomach was a fatal blow. His grip loosened. 

Bomin slid down the wall, his head throbbing, blood streaming from the wound Seok Changmu had inflicted.

He coughed, blood splattering on the floor. 

His head ached, his throat felt like it was on fire, and his body was weak. 

But instead of giving in, he reached out, grabbing Seok Changmu’s hand.

“Bomin-ssi…?”

“Jeong Hotae, now…!” 

He channeled all his remaining magic into Seok Changmu, his guiding power surging through their connected hands. 

“Hng…” 

Seok Changmu, overwhelmed by the sudden influx of magic, dropped to one knee. The guiding magic, amplified by their high compatibility, was a powerful stimulant.

Bang.

“S-Shit…”

Jeong Hotae, picking up the artifact, fired another shot, hitting Seok Changmu in the stomach. Seok Changmu screamed, his face contorted in pain. 

Bomin, releasing Seok Changmu’s hand, stumbled towards Jeong Hotae. Jeong Hotae was bleeding from his eyes, nose, ears, even his mouth. 

“Quickly… a potion…” 

Seok Changmu, his hand shaking, fumbled for a recovery potion. Jeong Hotae, with a burst of adrenaline, snatched it.

“Lee Bomin… drink it…”

But Bomin shook his head, pressing the potion to Jeong Hotae’s lips. He needed to recover, even slightly, if they were to escape this place.

There was nothing Bomin could do even if he was healed. 

“Hurry.” 

He pushed the potion against Jeong Hotae’s lips. He could hear Seok Changmu moving behind them. 

Jeong Hotae, with a grimace, finally drank. The potion was top-grade, his wounds closing rapidly. 

He held the last mouthful in his mouth, pulling Bomin closer. 

“Mhm…”

He kissed him, forcing the potion down his throat. It was a brief, bitter kiss, the taste of blood overwhelming the sweetness of the potion.

“Ugh…”

“Where do you think you’re going…?”

Seok Changmu grabbed Bomin by the hair. Bomin gritted his teeth as strands of hair ripped from his scalp. 

“Ugh…”

A sickening crack echoed as Seok Changmu’s grip loosened. Jeong Hotae, manipulating the shadows, had broken his fingers.

He wasn’t fully healed, and his powers were still partially suppressed by the restraints, his movements awkward.

He needed a special artifact to remove them.

But he didn’t hesitate. He would push his body to the limit if he had to. 

“Come here.” 

Bomin collapsed against him. The potion had stopped the bleeding, but he was still weak.

“You think you can…!”

Thud

“Gah…” 

Seok Changmu, his hand reaching for Bomin, was slammed against the wall. Cracks spiderwebbed across the concrete.

Jeong Hotae had deliberately aimed for his head, blood splattering on the wall. 

The shadow tendrils tightened around Seok Changmu’s throat.

Seok Changmu’s ability was to copy others.

He tried to use his own shadow manipulation to fight back, but Jeong Hotae, fueled by rage, was stronger. 

The tendrils, like living vines, wrapped around Seok Changmu, twisting his limbs at unnatural angles. 

Crack, snap. Both their bodies were taking a beating.

“We need to leave. They’ll be here soon.”

Bomin, his hand cupping Jeong Hotae’s cheek, met his gaze. He wanted to kill Seok Changmu. 

The memories of what he had endured made him want to rip him apart. But Seok Changmu wasn’t alone. And they were in his territory. 

They hadn’t been disturbed yet, perhaps because this place was used to noise.

But it was only a matter of time. The moment Seok Changmu called for reinforcements, they would be surrounded. 

“Okay.”

Jeong Hotae, understanding the urgency, nodded. His eyes were cold as he looked at Seok Changmu, who was coughing up blood.

He delivered a final blow, a giant fist of shadows crushing Seok Changmu’s head, then stepped out of the cell. 

Seok Changmu would sometimes release Jeong Hotae’s restraints, just to keep things interesting. Those sparring sessions would leave the room in ruins. 

He hadn’t killed Jeong Hotae for a simple reason—he needed him alive to access his powers and appearance.

Bomin gritted his teeth as they walked down the hallway, the muffled screams behind the closed doors fueling his rage. He wanted to open each door, to free those who were trapped.

But escape was their priority. He could only hope they would survive until he could return for them. 

“Haa…” 

“Eleven o’clock.” 

They finally reached the exit. Bomin, seeing Jeong Hotae’s exhaustion, pointed towards a dark alleyway.

Seok Changmu’s hideout wasn’t secluded. It was in the middle of a city that never slept. 

It was early morning, and the streets were relatively empty, but they still drew stares from a few passersby.

Some of them might be Seok Changmu’s men. 

“I prepared a safe house nearby. It’s not far from the Association.” 

Jeong Hotae, his steps faltering, led him into the shadows. He held Bomin close, protectively, his thin frame shielding him. 

* * *

“Let me see your wounds.”

“…I’m fine.”

“Does this look fine to you?”

Bomin, catching his arm as they entered the safe house, looked at Jeong Hotae’s battered body. He was wearing only pants, the fabric ripped and stained with blood and dirt.

“I’ll go wash up.”

Jeong Hotae, his gaze following Bomin’s, stood up. The small room was filled with the stench of blood and sweat. 

“Me too.” 

Bomin followed him into the bathroom. 

It was a small space, with only a toilet, a sink, and a single-person shower stall. It was a tight squeeze for two people. 

Their bodies brushed against each other. 

Shhh

Bomin, seeing Jeong Hotae hesitate, turned on the shower. 

“Ugh, it’s cold…”

He had turned on the hot water, but the water coming out of the showerhead was freezing. Jeong Hotae instinctively reached out, his large hand gently caressing Bomin’s trembling body. 

He was burning up, his body temperature higher than usual due to his injuries. 

Bomin relaxed against him, enjoying the warmth of his touch.

“…There’s a mark here.”

Jeong Hotae’s fingers lingered on Bomin’s neck. The potion might have healed the wound, but a faint mark remained. 

“Why did you do something so reckless? You could have died.” 

His voice was low, filled with concern, as steam from the shower filled the small bathroom. 

“You think I could have just… left you there? Put yourself in my shoes. You would have done the same for me.” 

“….”

Bomin had been consumed by despair after being abandoned. But he couldn’t deny that Jeong Hotae had cared for him deeply. And now, seeing him like this, he suspected that Seok Changmu had something to do with Jeong Hotae’s disappearance. 

He needed answers. He needed to know the truth, to finally move on from his past.

“You really are…”

Jeong Hotae, unable to finish his sentence, pressed his forehead against Bomin’s. Despite being much larger than Bomin, he seemed fragile, as if he might shatter at the slightest touch.

They stood there for a long time, the water cascading over them. 

Bomin reached for the shampoo, squirting a generous amount into his hand. He lathered it into Jeong Hotae’s hair, then his own. 

“Close your eyes. You look like a stray puppy getting a bath. Remember when we talked about adopting a dog from the shelter?”

He gently washed Jeong Hotae’s face, his touch lingering on the scars. He then lathered his hands with body wash, running them across Jeong Hotae’s muscular back. 

“Do muscles stay even after you’ve been through hell? You seem… even more toned than before.”

Bomin’s eyes narrowed. This felt different from when Seok Changmu had been wearing Jeong Hotae’s skin.

Despite the hardships he had endured, Jeong Hotae’s body was still sculpted, his muscles clearly defined. 

“You’re already hard.”