GBAS 70

The sunlight coming in through the window was dazzling. Jooin, awakened by a rustling sound, slowly opened his eyes and looked around. He had fallen asleep as if he had fainted right after their lovemaking, but his body, which should have been a mess, was neat and tidy this time as well.

When he forced open his eyelids that wouldn’t open properly, he saw Jeon Hyunwoo in the kitchen across from the bed, deftly tossing a pan.

“What are you doing?”

Jooin asked, barely managing to sit up with his disheveled hair. Without even turning his head, Hyunwoo answered as if it were nothing.

“I’m going to feed you, hyung, before I go.”

Then, he added as if muttering to himself.

“They say you give an extra rice cake to the child you hate.”

Jooin, sitting there blankly, wondered if that “hated child” was perhaps referring to him, and then he sniffed the air. At the scent tickling the tip of his nose, his body, which had been tormented all night, rumbled with a growl.

Just then, Hyunwoo placed a wide plate on the table and looked at Jooin, asking.

“It’s ready. Should I bring it over there?”

Jooin immediately shook his head.

“It’s fine. I’ll get up.”

Perhaps his tone sounded somewhat curt, as he heard Hyunwoo mutter something to himself.

Whatever. Holding his aching back, Jooin barely got up and took a seat on the plastic chair next to the small kitchen table. Realizing there was no chair on the opposite side, he belatedly looked at Hyunwoo. Hyunwoo, feeling his gaze, shook his head and said.

“No, it’s fine. The one who worked hard should sit. Hurry up and eat.”

At the comment that made him feel needlessly awkward, Jooin ducked his head low, pretending it was nothing.

On the plate placed before him, a salad, bread, and a fluffy-looking egg dish were arranged prettily. Finding the rather well-put-together meal surprising, Jooin stared at it for a long while before slowly picking up a fork. The moment he was about to reach for the eggs first, Hyunwoo made a humming sound, “Eumm,” and pointed at the salad.

“Eat this first.”

“…I don’t really want to.”

The plate Hyunwoo had served had a mountain of salad on it. He was the type who, even when eating ramen, found the freeze-dried flakes that came up with the noodles annoying and would pick them out before eating. I don’t like green vegetables. When he wrinkled the corners of his eyes, Hyunwoo, who noticed it, said with a sigh.

“If you want to do the music you love for a long time, hyung, you need to eat a little better.”

It was something his band members said as often as they breathed. When he looked up with a displeased expression, Hyunwoo, who had taken a large bite of the golden-brown toasted bread, wriggled his eyebrows as if asking why he was staring.

Jooin, glancing once at the large piece of bread in Hyunwoo’s hand, asked.

“What about you?”

“I already had a huge bowl earlier.”

Hyunwoo pointed at the sink with an expression that said, ‘What an obvious question.’ As if he really had eaten a huge bowl, the largest mixing bowl in the house was submerged in the water. Having nothing left to say, Jooin finally stabbed at the salad and shoved it into his mouth.

Hyunwoo, with a satisfied smile, leaned against the table and continued his nagging.

“Hyung, you know this, right? That our game takes the muscle mass of our real-life bodies into account. That’s why the damage-dealer tanks and top rankers consistently go to the gym. Especially the melee dealers.”

It was a topic that had become a huge issue after it became known that the game characters’ stats partially reflected the abilities of one’s real-life body. To what extent? There were so many users who went to the gym to build up their real-life stamina, got into working out, and never returned, that for a while, the megaphone chat window was packed with messages reporting missing guild members.

But that was only necessary for classes that required strength; it was a world different from his. Jooin, who had stopped his hand, looked down at the plate, then shrugged and replied.

“It has nothing to do with me. All I have to do is stand in one spot and give buffs.”

“Ah, seriously.”

At that, Hyunwoo, taking another bite of bread, thumped his chest and continued.

“Those bastards are already the type to say supporters have it easy, so can we afford to lose? Those damn dealers. We have to show them, even if it’s just through character customization, that we could do it but choose not to.”

“Do we really have to?”

“Anyway!”

Hyunwoo, speaking like he was whining, glanced at Jooin’s slender wrist and muttered.

“It’s because you’re like this, hyung, that people look down on you and write all sorts of weird stuff.”

So this was what he wanted to say in the end. Jooin, who had been picking at his salad, let out a chuckle. Jooin, who had put down his fork for a moment, looked up at Hyunwoo with a crooked posture and said.

“I told you it’s none of your business.”

At Jooin’s words, Hyunwoo’s face darkened rapidly. The atmosphere, which had been gentle just a moment before, instantly froze over.

“…Wow.”

Is he going to cry? Just as he couldn’t take his eyes off the round pupils that were getting increasingly moist, Hyunwoo bit his lip and looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head.

“No, really, how can a person be like this?”

To Hyunwoo, who asked as if he were arguing, Jooin replied with indifferent eyes as he scanned the plate.

“I told you, if you don’t like it, you can just stop looking.”

“Ha.”

Hyunwoo, who had been glaring at Jooin while running a hand through his hair, forcefully shoved the bread he was holding into his mouth. Then, he grabbed his phone, which he had placed on the corner of the table, and left the kitchen. Hyunwoo, who also grabbed his outerwear which had been hung on the capsule, went straight to the entrance and jammed his feet into his shoes.

Jooin, whose eyes were following the movements laden with anger, pressed his lips together. Is he really leaving?

“…You’re going?”

It was a question asked after dozens of moments of deliberation, but Hyunwoo didn’t answer.

Jooin, who was watching Hyunwoo’s fidgeting back, turned his head to the other side. I didn’t think he’d piss off this quickly, but should I consider this a relief? Maybe I should have put up with it just once. All sorts of thoughts flooded his mind.

Jooin, who had picked up the fork he had set down, stabbed a halved cherry tomato just as the sound of the door opening was heard. Just as he was waiting for the sound that should have followed, the door that was almost closed opened again.

When he belatedly turned his head, Hyunwoo, who was looking at him from beyond the half-open door, spoke in a blunt tone.

“Someone’s leaving and you’re not even going to say goodbye?”

Not knowing what to say, Jooin just stared. Hyunwoo scrunched his face and let out a hollow laugh, “Ha!”

“You see, right now, I’m just so upset that I’m just going home. But as you well know, hyung, I’m not the type of person who can just take things lying down.”

Then, he continued, enunciating each and every syllable as if chewing on them.

“Let’s see each other again.”

Hyunwoo, who snorted with a “Hmph,” quietly pushed the door closed.

The pattering footsteps that had sounded close grew more and more distant, and Jooin, left alone, blinked his eyes for a long while after that, unable to tear his gaze from the front door.

👾🎮

After that day, Jeon Hyunwoo must have made some kind of resolution.

Vzzzt—Vzzzt-

As if he had completely forgotten the words telling him to stop crawling all over him, Jooin’s phone rang without a day of rest.

Even though he had said he was going back to school, studying seemed to be the last thing on his mind. Not only did he send messages every morning and evening asking if he slept well and telling him to sleep well, but it was as if he were staring at his phone all day long. If Jooin happened to read a message, Hyunwoo would immediately rush in, asking if he had eaten or what he was doing, to the point where Jooin had to seriously consider deleting the messaging app.

Did they say he was a fast learner? Now, it seemed he had even learned his daily routine. Jooin, looking down at the message that had arrived with impeccable timing the moment he opened his eyes, said in a sigh-filled voice.

“What is this, a morning greeting to a king?”

Jooin turned off the bright screen, put his phone in his pocket, and went up the stairs.

Despite all that, his daily life was somehow rolling along. He would wake up late around the time the sun was high in the sky, have a cigarette, practice, go to band rehearsal, and then log into the game.

He could get rid of the guy right away, it wouldn’t matter, but right now he had something more important to do. The solo concert that wasn’t far off. Not some curiosity-filled heterosexual who had just gotten a taste of something new.

But.

“…”

He had forgotten about one other noisy matter.

Jooin’s expression crumpled when he discovered the white envelope stuck to his door. Jooin, who was staring intently at the envelope that didn’t even have the sender’s name written on it, carefully peeled it off.

Jooin’s hand trembled slightly as he hurried inside and locked the door. Without even putting down his guitar case, Jooin, who had walked into the house, found a box cutter in his desk drawer.

The envelope was strangely heavy. Jooin, standing in the middle of the small rooftop room, pushed up the blade and then tore open the mouth of the envelope.

The first thing he saw was a letter that seemed to have been folded two or three times. Jooin put his fingers inside, pulled out the stiffly folded paper, and then poured the contents of the envelope onto his palm.

The moment the contents, which had been making a clinking, rattling sound, spilled out with a clatter, Jooin’s lips parted slightly.

“…Ah.”

Jooin’s palm was stained red.

Inside the envelope was one letter. And countless razor blades.