AGENT 29

Lately, it had become a routine for Yongnae to sit blankly on a bench in front of the research institute after lunch. He could have gone into the office and napped during the remaining time, but after hearing from Dawon that he had been moaning in his sleep a few weeks ago while napping face-down, he spent his time outside for fear of making a slip of the tongue in his sleep.

“Yongnae—the Section Chief said he’s treating us to coffee, so I’m going to go buy some. What do you want to drink?”

Today was no different; as he sat blankly on the bench, Dawon approached from behind and asked. Originally, she had always told Yongnae to go, but for the past few weeks, she had been going herself. She wasn’t a person completely lacking in tact.

“Look at you spacing out again. You seem low on sugar, so I’ll bring you the most expensive Custard Cream Latte Frappuccino with extra cookie crumbles, three swirls of whipped cream, and chocolate drizzle on top. How’s that?”

“…”

“Don’t decline. It’s not my money.”

Dawon passed the bench and headed down toward the parking lot. Yongnae watched her retreating figure with indifferent eyes.

Having never been in love during his 27 years of life, he had thought that finding the unique Dawon interesting was the same as liking her. But it wasn’t.

‘Yongnae, did you break up with your girlfriend?’

One day, a colleague asked. They asked if he had broken up with a girlfriend. He didn’t have a girlfriend, and he had never been in love. Then, the colleague said he looked exactly like someone who had just gone through a breakup or was suffering from a desperate one-sided love.

One-sided love?

Yes, love. This was love. Only now could he understand. Dawon, whom he thought he liked, was just a comfortable and fun senior colleague to be around.

When you truly grow to like someone, you start the day with thoughts of them and end the day with thoughts of them. And the time spent spacing out while thinking of that person increases, as do the days spent feeling depressed because of them. This was love.

And as soon as he realized it, accepting this reality where he could do nothing was too difficult. He missed him like crazy, yet he cursed his own incompetence at not being able to see him. Not a single thing Weizhen said was wrong.

If he had been a chaebol instead, he would have easily quit being a civil servant like this and flown off to Hong Kong to chase him. He would have been able to at least try that kind of effort.

However, the only assets Yongnae had were the 130 million won split between his family’s bank accounts. From the 300 million won the man’s organization had left in front of his house, after paying off the debt for the house his parents had bought with a loan, 130 million won remained. This was an amount that couldn’t even make him a nouveau riche or a wealthy man, let alone a chaebol.

Of course, at first, he had thought about ways to meet him again.

Should he take sick leave under the pretext of post-traumatic stress disorder and go to Hong Kong for about a week, no, even for 3 days? But by what means would he meet him? Should he leave a message to Lee Suji’s text saying he was going to Hong Kong? Wasn’t there a chance a reply might come? Or maybe by encountering E8 in Hong Kong… no, that was going too far. Absolutely not. Drugs were too dangerous.

But… hadn’t he already not shied away from even more dangerous things?

Like a madman, he had thought of all sorts of dangerous ideas. However, in the end, he reached one conclusion.

Even if he did that, would the man meet him?

“Sigh…”

“What’s with the sigh? Are you sick somewhere? Or do you have a worry?”

Whether Dawon had returned quickly or the time spent thinking about the man had flowed by fast. Dawon, who had said she would bring a Custard Cream Latte Frappuccino with extra cookie crumbles, three swirls of whipped cream, and chocolate drizzle, held out the plum tea Yongnae usually enjoyed while wearing a worried face.

“Ah… it’s nothing.”

“What is it, tell me. We’re the best of friends in the department, after all.”

“…”

He was indeed closest to Dawon within the department. However, he had never thought they were close enough to share this kind of worry. No, in the first place, this worry was one he couldn’t even tell a friend to whom he bared his soul.

That he fell in love at first sight with a man he met for the first time one day, followed a drug organization to help just to see that man, remained silent about the truth of a murderer while pining for him, and wanted to go see him but didn’t know what to do. Who could possibly share such a secret inner thought?

“It’s not me…”

“Oho.”

“It’s a story about a friend of mine…”

“Ho-oh.”

But perhaps he could ask something else instead.

“…My friend is in a one-sided love with someone.”

“Huh? No way. Who?!”

“…I don’t really know either. It’s a friend’s story.”

“Ah—right. So?”

“But, my friend says he hasn’t even exchanged many words with that person. Um…, maybe three or four sentences?”

“Three or four sentences? But how did he end up in a one-sided love? Is that person incredibly pretty?”

His mouth was tired of it by now. The man’s appearance was so beautiful it was frustrating that it couldn’t be explained in words.

“…Yes.”

“Ho-oh? Who is it?!”

“…I told you, I don’t know.”

“Ah—that’s right. Anyway, so?”

“…Anyway, the friend says he wants to throw away his job, his family, and everything else to go see that person.”

“Heol—no way, to that extent?”

Exactly. That “to that extent.” To have these feelings for someone he had only seen twice—was this normal?

“Is this… normal? Toward someone seen only twice…”

Was this a normal love? Could it be Stockholm Syndrome or something like that? Was he currently mistaking this for love?

“Hmm… First of all, it seems that friend has an incredible tendency to be a face-chaser, but this is what I think.”

“…”

“When a person falls in love with someone, where is the requirement for the number of meetings and where is the right answer?”

“…”

“If you’ve fallen in love, you’ve fallen in love. If you want to see them, you should go see them. Isn’t it better to do it and regret it than to not do it and regret it?”

Dawon was someone who hated being serious more than dying, but her face as she spoke while patting Yongnae’s shoulder looked more serious than anyone he had seen lately. Was she someone capable of saying such things?

“…Is that so?”

“Yes. So go see them right now.”

“…”

“I can cover for you here by myself.”

Yongnae’s pupils shook. He had said it was a friend, so how did she realize it was him? He was a bit flustered as if part of his secret had been caught by Dawon, but still. Even if it was just words, those words were a great comfort.

“…However, I cannot go.”

“Why?”

“They are in a place where I cannot go.”

“…Huh? Where?”

“Thank you for the plum tea.”

He wanted to go meet him, but he didn’t have the courage. The courage to start the work himself. And the courage to endure the futility if the man did not meet him.

So like a coward, he just wanted to be validated. He just wanted to confirm that this heart, which wanted him abnormally, was not wrong.

Exhaling a sigh as if he were experiencing the world’s most painful love all by himself, Yongnae left his seat, saying he was going in first. And Dawon’s expression as she watched Yongnae was somehow ambiguous.

“…A place where he cannot go?”