Lovers

4

The Sound of the Sky Falling

Whether or not I knew what Sebastian Riegel was up to, he was clearly the reef—no, the iceberg—in my life right now. Before I ended up like a passenger ship sinking after hitting an iceberg, I thought it would be better to cling to Lee and quietly hide my face.

Lee laughed but didn’t let go of me. And from under the table, he handed me my glass as if telling me to drink.

“I’m never drinking with you again.”

As I gritted my teeth, Lee patted my back saying, “Sure, sure.” As if soothing a baby.

No, this bastard isn’t even remorseful. Once the long-haired guy disappears, you’re dead.

I don’t know where Lee gets his nerve from. Isn’t he scared of me? I’m in the anti-terrorism team, but he should know what Department 1’s anti-terrorism team does.

We’re a special unit. We generally do counter-terrorism, but when a mission comes in, our team’s specialty is that we can engage in terrorism instead of counter-terrorism. So he should be scared, but I don’t understand why he treats me like such a loser.

I was sipping my drink, waiting for him to tell me that the long-haired guy had disappeared, when:

“Armin, do you really not know Sebastian Riegel?”

“I don’t. What’s Riegel?”

“You know, Riegel Bank.”

“I know the bank. My bank is Riegel too. Ah, what? Is that crazy long-haired guy from the Riegel Group?”

A chaebol? Isn’t that our country’s largest conglomerate? No, is it Rotman, the oil tycoon, who’s the largest? Ah, I’m not interested in chaebols, so I’m not sure.

Anyway, I was so surprised by the mention of Riegel, whether first or second largest, that I almost took another look. That’s when Lee’s voice became serious.

“He’s coming.”

When Lee Martin’s voice becomes serious, it implies two possibilities. In most cases, this bastard is acting to blindside me. But if he’s being sincere, it’s really serious.

“Hey, you’ve messed with me a lot today. I’m so full that if I eat any more, I might throw up on your face.”

I warned him, but Lee’s voice didn’t improve.

“I’m not joking. He’s really coming. You really don’t know? That face, that long hair, haven’t you seen it somewhere?”

Far from improving, his voice carried anxiety. As if someone was approaching, step by step.

Maybe because I was clinging to Lee, my heart also started beating slowly. This is definitely not because of the speaker vibrations.

“I don’t… think so?”

“Make sure.”

“I don’t. Where would I have seen someone from Riegel? I’ve never seen such a chaebol.”

I’ve never seen a chaebol. What I’ve seen are poor people, kids in orphanages, or criminals. Where on earth would I have seen chaebols like Olympian gods? Even in escort or rescue missions, I’ve never seen a chaebol. I’ve hardly ever been assigned to missions to rescue anyone in the first place.

“But why…”

That’s when someone lifted me up. It was quite a strong force. Of course, I could have resisted, but if it was Sebastian Riegel lifting me now, that wouldn’t be a good decision.

Lee said he was the target. More precisely, the person who encountered the target in the room.

So, this operation is about a meeting between some target and someone from the Riegel family that owns Riegel Bank. I don’t know what it’s for. Whether it’s for an arrest or if there’s another intention. For now, Sebastian Riegel is definitely an “involved party,” and the Department 2 manager looked ready to bury me if I messed up this operation.

As I stood up, sure enough, I saw the man holding my arm.

He was about 5-6 cm taller than me. So, around 185 cm, I guess. His slim figure suited the three-piece suit he was wearing well. It must be an incredibly expensive suit. The most noticeable part of the man was, of course, his long black hair. But the texture of his hair was a work of art. Shalalala, I feel like I should play a song.

From afar, I only saw his hair, but up close, his face was also beautiful. His features were like a sculpture. I don’t mean that as praise, but his features really looked like those I’ve seen in Greek or Roman sculptures.

Hmm, okay, I get that he’s handsome, but…

That doesn’t seem to be a reason for you to show off your strength to me.

“Hello.”

The man didn’t shout. Nor did he just mouth the words like I did. He spoke as if there was no music here.

And strangely, although I couldn’t hear his voice, it gave the illusion that I could.

“Hello.”

I greeted him back for now.

The club was still noisy, but I could feel the gazes focused on us. Riegel probably thinks these gazes are just out of curiosity. But I can feel it. The anger of the operation team. Especially the gaze piercing the back of my neck, which is definitely from the Department 2 manager.

“Hello.”

“I’m Sebas—”

I smiled at the man trying to introduce himself and pointed to my ear with my index finger.

“Can’t hear. Want to talk outside?”

At my words, he looked surprised but obediently said, “Sure,” and let go of my arm. I smirked at Riegel, who was even extending his hand as if to help me if I found it difficult to navigate through the tables and people sitting around them.

As I was leaving the table, my phone in my back pocket kept vibrating. It was probably Lee sending messages. Lee, who threw me my padded jacket with one hand while likely sending me messages discreetly with the other, smiled and said, “Call me!”

At a glance, it might look like he meant “let’s keep in touch,” but no way. He meant check the messages right now.

“Oh, sure.”

I casually replied and left the club with Riegel. Riegel’s guards surrounded us.

Ah, they seem to be from the Middle East? There’s a unique feeling about people from that region. Their habits that you can recognize after dealing with them a few times. Especially the way they tie their shoelaces. There are people who tie them like that.

I’m a civil servant, but in the freelance mercenary world, agents from the Middle East boast the highest price tags. Whether for offense or defense, they don’t discriminate between means for their purpose, so they’re reliable. Of course, they’re much more efficient when used for offense. For security, rather than people like that…

Wait a minute.

I just got on the elevator inside the club following Riegel, but the elevator keeps going up. Wondering if we’re going to a lounge bar, I checked the floor Riegel pressed. There was a brief description next to the elevator floor buttons. And what I saw was:

‘Guest rooms’

Guest rooms? We’re heading to the guest room floors?

“Where are we going now? Weren’t we supposed to talk?”

When I asked, Riegel burst out laughing.

“It’s kind of funny that you were so serious without saying a word the whole elevator ride and now suddenly protest.”

“…”

“You were watching when I pressed the floor. I thought you were okay with it since you didn’t say anything.”

My gaze was fixed, but I was lost in thought. I wasn’t paying attention to which floor he was pressing. But since my gaze was fixed, Riegel probably thought I saw him press the guest room floor and stayed quiet. Ah, that must have looked like consent.

What should I say?

As I looked up at Riegel, he asked, “What’s your name?”

What does it matter what my name is? What’s important is that you’re heading to a guest room right now. This situation that looks like we’ve ‘agreed’ is much more important!

—I couldn’t shout that, so I answered obediently.

“Schnieke.”

But why don’t you tell me why we’re going to a guest room?

I want to ask, but I can’t because I’m afraid of hearing an answer I don’t want to hear. Ah, I should have come to my senses before getting on the elevator.

Whether he knew my thoughts or not, Riegel smiled brightly.

“I’m Sebastian Riegel. Now, can I hear your full name?”

You’d think he’d be off-putting just throwing out his last name, but this chaebol’s son is even being polite. I reluctantly opened my mouth.

“Armin. Armin Schnieke.”

I had been pondering since I mentioned the name Schnieke.

Should I use an alias?

But the face of the Department 2 manager flashed in my mind. There wasn’t even a hint of exaggeration in her face as she warned she’d kill me if I messed up. Rather than complicating things by using an alias, I thought it would be better to use my real name, so I did. The man rolled my name in his mouth, saying, “Armin, huh.”

Unfortunately, it was sexy.

Don’t, damn it.

I wanted to ask him not to pronounce it with such a sexy voice, but I couldn’t because it was too embarrassing to say such a thing. While I was hesitating, the elevator doors opened.

“Shall we?”

…To the guest room?

I didn’t want to get off, but that wasn’t feasible either. Two guards were next to Riegel, but for some reason, the other two remained in the elevator with me. At this point, I started to wonder if Riegel hadn’t brought me here for that reason, but perhaps he had noticed my identity and picked me up.

Right, he’s already figured out that this is an investigative operation. And among us, he brought me, who looked the most naive and clueless. He wants to use me as a messenger.

That’s it.

The puzzle is solved.

Yeah, I thought it was strange too. Even if he’s gay, a chaebol who’s that handsome would usually be picky about his partners.

Heterosexuals tend to think that homosexuals would be okay with anyone walking down the street, but that’s nonsense. I have a gay friend, and his problem isn’t his sexual orientation, but that he can’t find anyone he likes, so he’s chosen to drown himself in alcohol. In my opinion, homosexuals are even pickier than heterosexuals. If it were me, I’d just try dating someone around me or someone introduced by people around me, but he absolutely refused.

Well, I might be committing the fallacy of generalization here too. It’s not like I know many homosexuals.

The guest room I entered with Riegel was too large to simply call it a ‘guest room’. There was a living room, so this room was clearly a suite. But it didn’t seem like just a regular suite; it was bound to have some grand name attached to it. Like Royal or Presidential.

…I’m seeing places like this.

I almost whistled at the level of luxury I’d never seen before, but I held back. The guards all entered the guest room too, but they stayed in the living room while I followed Riegel into the bedroom. Even though it’s called a room, it was a large space with separate areas for the bed and sofa. Of course, there was an attached bathroom. Although it seemed too big to simply call it a ‘bathroom’.

“Sit wherever.”

At Riegel’s words, I sat down on the sofa, and Riegel started taking off his clothes. First his coat, then his jacket. Then his vest. And as he started unbuttoning his shirt—

Is he crazy?

“What are you…?!”

As I jumped up, Riegel looked at me as if I was the strange one.

“You want to do it without washing up?”

It was the sound of the sky falling.