Lovers

29

From Now On, a Different Matter

It was my first date ever.

Of course, I had escorted a few girls in my life. But it wasn’t enough to call them dates. Most of the time, I just escorted them, and we each did our own thing. We might have danced once together, but that was the extent of our connection. So, this was truly the first time I was having such a romantic dinner, just the two of us, with no one else interfering.

However.

“Kill him!”

“Smash his face!”

I thought ‘Colosseum’ was the name of the restaurant, but ah, it was a backstreet fighting pit.

Inside the warehouse, there was a raised ring in the center, surrounded by tables. On the second floor, there were box seats with more luxurious tables and sofas than those on the first floor.

“Do they serve food too?” I asked, picking up and eating a canapé from the table.

Riegel laughed and said, “You don’t think people sitting in box seats eat food served in places like this, do you?”

“Then?”

“It’s set up according to their preferences. Didn’t you see last time?”

Looking closely at the face of the person bringing cocktails, I recognized him from Riegel’s house. I think his name was Berendt. To think he’d come all the way here to serve… Is this really the 21st century? Wow, I’d believe it if you told me it was the 19th century.

“Your taste is quite old-fashioned,” I said.

I didn’t mean to be sarcastic, but it came out sounding a bit that way. It wasn’t my intention, so I felt a bit awkward, but fortunately, Riegel raised his champagne glass and responded, “It’s more classic.”

I took another look at Riegel.

Riegel is handsome, but there are plenty of handsome men in the world. You can find handsome men all over the internet. It’s just that they’re not handsome men I’m acquainted with. Riegel is beautiful, but that doesn’t mean he’s the most handsome man in the world.

But his aura is truly unique. Languid and elegant… and above all, not realistic. Riegel’s aura is somewhat detached from reality. His flowing long hair and the suit enveloping his body seem like another body that makes up who he is. It was that natural. The seemingly mismatched long hair and suit harmonized seamlessly because Sebastian Riegel himself already had an unrealistic aura.

Whether it’s the 19th century or ancient Asia, Riegel would seem to fit in well anywhere.

“Am I too handsome?” Riegel jokingly asked as I stared at him intently.

“Ah, it’s just…”

“What?”

“I thought handsome people didn’t know they were handsome.”

Riegel laughed at my words. Then he nodded towards the ring on the first floor. There, two men wearing only athletic shorts were clashing with bare fists.

“Don’t you think those guys are fighting there because they know they’re good at it? Similarly, I’m here like this because I think I have some charm.”

The ring was horrifically splattered with blood. It wasn’t good. The two fighters were too evenly matched. It would have been better if one side was superior, but they were really neck and neck. Two people of such skill fighting without any protective gear, including headgear? They’re both likely to end up dead.

“If they both die, who wins?” I asked.

Riegel’s gaze turned to the ring. I glanced at his profile. He’s a chaebol. Even if he had been kidnapped before, he must have grown up pampered, but he didn’t even blink at such a sight. As if he was used to it.

Used to it? To such a bloody fight?

“I suppose whoever’s knee touches the ground last,” he replied.

“Do you like places like this?”

“No, I don’t like the smell.”

I frowned at his words.

“Then why did you come here?”

I couldn’t understand why he chose a place like this when he said we were going on a date. The canapés are delicious though.

As I put a canapé in my mouth and asked, he shrugged.

“I was curious about what kind of place your former workplace was.”

“Isn’t that a bit rude?”

At my question, Riegel looked at me with interest.

“If it’s rude, it’s rude, and if it’s not, it’s not. Why are you asking if your own job is rude as if it’s someone else’s?”

Damn it.

Only then did I remember that I had a history of working in a place like this. I shouldn’t have asked questions like who wins if they both die. Riegel should have been the one asking that question, and I should have been the one answering. I revealed that I was unfamiliar with this world, like an outsider.

I knew I had messed up, but I didn’t show it on my face. I just stared at Riegel. Should I snap at him? Glare at him? To be honest, I wasn’t sure.

Not knowing what to do, I just kept looking at Riegel, and he asked,

“Were you offended?”

“…No.”

“I see.”

Maybe I should have said I was offended, but judging by Riegel’s eyes, lies wouldn’t work. As if letting me off the hook, Riegel turned his gaze away from me and towards the ring.

“I wanted to show you that it’s okay to observe from a few steps away.”

Riegel’s words were meaningful. As I bit the inside of my lip and waited for his next words, he winked at me.

“Especially because you need to know that my face is quite nice.”

Riegel’s face as he said this was beautiful to the point of being bewitching. Whether it was because of the yellowish lighting unique to this warehouse, or because of the people screaming “Kill him!”, he sometimes looked like something other than human. Like some kind of creature from an urban legend.

“I know that well enough,” I said.

Riegel looked surprised at my words. Then a smile bloomed on his face. Watching his smile spread across his face made me feel strange. Maybe it’s because I’ve been under a lot of stress lately, or because no one has smiled at me so brightly like this. Something stirred in the empty space between my heart and stomach. It wasn’t painful, more like ticklish.

I looked down at my phone. It was almost time to meet the informant.

“I need to use the restroom,” I said.

Riegel waved his hand lightly with a pleasant expression, telling me to go ahead. I couldn’t help but smile.

“I’ll be right back.”

And I went down to the first floor instead of using the restroom on the second floor.

Of course, I don’t know where the informant is. But he should know where I am. That’s what informants do. If they say to meet “somewhere,” I just need to go there. It’s up to the other side to recognize me. All I have to do is walk around slowly and wait to be noticed.

“Let’s meet in the restroom,” a passing man whispered to me quietly. Hmm, finally he shows up. After a short while, I slowly moved towards the restroom.

Meeting the informant was important, but I also needed to check if there were any Canaris people around. These backstreet fighting pits are mostly owned by the mafia. And while the Canaris people claim to be ideological activists, some of their lower organizations include mafia groups.

I guess they believe the ends justify the means, as long as the purpose is (believed to be) right.

It’s not just the Canaris people we should criticize. The Security Bureau isn’t much different. I too carry out missions when they’re assigned. I don’t discriminate in my methods to accomplish a mission. Of course, I try to maintain a flexible attitude, but when there’s no leeway, you can’t be picky about your methods.

The life-or-death struggle was still going on in the ring.

Glancing at them, I could see they had both lost their senses. They’ve probably forgotten where they are and why they’re fighting. Only the instinct of savagery remains on that ring. Calculations about how much they’ve been injured, how much they’ll earn if they win or lose here, how much will be left after medical expenses, whether it’ll be enough for living expenses during recovery – all of that has already left their minds.

This isn’t a professional fight.

The spectators are in a frenzy. Large screens hanging all around show close-ups of the situation in the ring. And next to them, detailed information about how much money is riding on each fighter and the odds is displayed.

They’re quite skilled at inciting the crowd.

That must be why it’s so popular.

With the crowd behind me, I headed towards the restroom through the corridor. Unlike the hall filled with a sea of spectators, the corridor was quiet. Only security guards were visible. Everyone else was entranced by that tremendous dogfight. As I arrived at the restroom, a man was standing there.

Like me, he was wearing a ball cap. Black jacket, black pants, black sneakers. A very ordinary outfit, but his large build made him stand out. His face was hardly visible as he had his cap pulled down low. When I just stared at him without saying anything, he raised his head. As he did, I recognized him.

Ah. As I showed recognition, he grinned.

“Nice to see you again, customer.”

He was the guard who had opened the door for me when I went to see the informant. Seems he runs errands too. I smiled and held out my hand, and he placed an SD card in it.

“You requested information about Josef Kuno, but the boss thoughtfully included information about Josef Kuno’s father, August Kuno, as well.”

“August Kuno?”

“He’s a core member of Canaris. Matthias Yudorov’s right-hand man.”

We’ve caught a big fish?

What does such a big shot have to do with me? I’ve caught a few Canaris members. And some of them were executives. But I’ve never been involved with someone as significant as Matthias Yudorov’s right-hand man. It’s not even him, but his ‘son’ – what does he have to do with our team?

…Could this be what Walter left behind? Who left this, and what message did they want to give me?

As I became serious, the guard said, “It looks like it’s about to end,” drawing my attention. Ah. The cheers and heat from outside the restroom were growing louder. This meant one of the two people in the ring was about to win. Once the match was decided, people would rush into the restroom. I had to get out of here before then.

I put the SD card in my pocket and turned around.

That’s when I felt a breeze from behind.

My body moved before I could think. A knife barely grazed my side. Blood splattered before my eyes. I turned to look at the guard who had given me the SD card, and I saw him grinning with a knife in his hand.

“From now on, it’s a different customer’s business.”

His knife was dripping with my blood.