In the evening, Seungmin came with Seokmin as he had promised Han. Han was still getting ready when Seungmin called to say they were waiting downstairs. Chaewon still didn't want to go, but somehow he forced himself, got dressed, and went with them.
The whole ride, Chaewon sat quietly in the back, watching Seungmin drive while Han laughed and chatted beside him. They looked so perfect together—like they suited each other. A pang hit Chaewon's chest; he knew he would never have a chance with Han. Han was handsome, rich, talented, intelligent—probably well-settled. Next to him, Chaewon felt painfully small.
When they reached the mall, Seungmin and Han automatically walked ahead, leaving Seokmin and Chaewon behind. They stopped at a shooting arena. Seokmin's eyes lit up. He grabbed Chaewon's hand and said, "Let's go there!"
Chaewon hesitated. Maybe it was better to stay away from Han and Seungmin for a while. He nodded.
At the counter, Chaewon's eyes widened when Seokmin paid with a black card. He was just eighteen. Seokmin caught his expression and smiled to himself. They both changed into suits and entered the arena on the same team—but once inside, the crowd separated them.
Chaewon raised his gun, ready and alert. Suddenly, someone pulled him behind a container. It was Seokmin.
Chaewon blinked. "Why are you hiding instead of playing?"
Seokmin didn't look at him, busy setting his gun. "Why waste our energy finding and killing? Let them fight each other. When there's only one left, we'll take him out."
"That's not fun," Chaewon muttered.
Seokmin's mouth curved. "Then what's fun? Running around shooting people for no reason? This is fun for me. Let them fight, and we'll end it. Easy and convenient. Still want to go out? Go."
Chaewon didn't know how to answer, so he set his gun aside and sat down beside him.
Seokmin checked his watch. "We only have to wait thirty minutes. Do you have something to ask me?"
The question startled Chaewon. He acted like he didn't know what Seokmin meant.
Seokmin chuckled. "Just ask. I'll answer. I know you've got a lot on your mind."
It was true—Chaewon did. But all he said was, "You guys are really… elite class. Sorry, I don't mean to offend you. You just don't look that rich. You're like us—simple food, average malls. You guys are different."
Seokmin leaned his head back against the wall, eyes closed. "So what did you imagine? Four or five bodyguards? Private shops? Huge parties? Cannibalistic rituals?"
Hearing that last word, Chaewon froze. He felt like his soul had left his body. He stayed silent.
"Hyung," Seokmin said softly, "you can't even imagine what I've seen. I can't tell you. Let's keep it secret. I don't want you involved."
Chaewon sighed, his voice low. "Hmmm… I don't even want to be a part of this."
Seokmin smiled faintly. "You can think we're different. Just think of it this way—my mother and Seungmin's mother were from upper-middle class families. We got some of their qualities. And there was someone in my life who once said, 'How can a human hurt another human? Isn't it like killing yourself?'"
Chaewon gave a weak laugh. "That's a good line." He tried to remember who said it—then something clicked. "Wait… don't you guys have the same mother?"
"No, we don't. In fact, I don't even know who my mother is," Seokmin answered.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Seokmin, I'm not being rude, but… have you ever tried to find out where she is?" Chaewon asked hesitantly.