Colton set down his teacup.
"Pleased to et you."
It was just like him, that clear pronunciation. The polite yet intimidating tone always stuck in your ears. His calm, charismatic voice never wavered.
Even when a bomb went off right in front of him, that refined voice never shook.
But not "It's nice to et you for the first ti" or "It's been a while," just "Pleased to et you."
The ssage was clear. While Poden greeted him in a voice full of tension, I observed Colton. He was amazingly good at hiding his true feelings, so I couldn't tell exactly what kind of greeting Poden had just received.
But I could clearly see the attitude I needed to take at this table.
Colton rembered .
But he wouldn't act like we knew each other here.
A little thought made it obvious. The gazes flew toward our table in the corner of the banquet hall. Prominent figures from all walks of life watched us. It was impossible to have a deep conversation in such a public place.
"It's an honor to finally et you."
Poden sat down and greeted him politely.
He seed to have completely forgotten about my presence next to him. Well, it wasn't easy to get distracted with Colton Wiseman right in front of you.
"I apologize for bringing up a dull topic first."
"It's far more reasonable than beating around the bush unnecessarily."
Colton naturally accepted Poden's attitude, which was like he was being received by royalty.
The elegantly aged friend picked up his teacup and even offered this praise.
"Isn't it better than wasting ti with unnecessary words?"
He was pleased.
Poden was happy to be praised. Though it was probably just Colton's soulless, formal courtesy.
Anyway, Poden was delighted like a child praised by his parents and imdiately got to the point.
As the owner of a company, he had a way with words. I half-listened to his business talk.
Sothing about new construction, profitability there, and so on.
It wasn't worth paying attention to. I pretended to listen while rolling my eyes.
A white and ornate venue. People pretended to chat while they eavesdropped on Colton and Poden's conversation.
A few steps behind Colton stood Jae-yeon.
Jae-yeon glared at with eyes full of hatred.
'He can't say anything right now.'
I sifted through the revived mories.
Jae-yeon. Colton's first retainer. The one Colton Wiseman treated specially in various ways (probably).
I'd seen this setup often. In public settings like this, Jae-yeon stood behind Colton like a shadow. He protected Colton and got his hands dirty on Colton's behalf.
There were one or two like that, but Jae-yeon was uniquely positioned to kiss Colton's hand and foot directly.
That didn't an he could freely speak while Colton was working. Colton wouldn't tolerate it.
My old friend managed people by mixing a drop of rcy into fear.
"Mr. Hildebert."
While I recalled mories of Jae-yeon, one conversation seed to have ended.
Colton's voice pulled back to reality. I slowly withdrew my gaze from Jae-yeon and shifted it to the man sitting across from .
Poden looked at with an incredulous expression. Ignoring that, I t the blue eyes.
"Yes?"
"What do you usually do after training?"
The polite formal speech didn't suit him at all.
I wanted to say, 'Hey, formal speech really doesn't suit you. It's creepy just hearing it, so cut it out,' but I knew about social graces.
So I suppressed the rising impulse and smiled.
"I play gas."
Poden dropped sothing.
Among the people eavesdropping on the conversation, a few couldn't hold back a "pfft." Several turned around, wondering if they'd misheard. So even gaped.
Even Jae-yeon looked at with a truly pathetic expression.
"Computer gas?"
"Yes."
Why ask when you know?
"Usually, yeah."
As if I'd be sitting there playing poker elegantly like you now. I didn't hate card gas, but they couldn't match the thrill of computer gas. You know nagging wouldn't change anything.
My inner thoughts didn't turn into words this ti either.
I smiled faintly at Colton's expressionless face.
"I also like console gas and mobile gas."
So people gasped.
Stop persecuting gas. I looked away from the stares thinking, 'What kind of trash answer is that in front of the pinnacle of power?'
Is reading refined and gaming vulgar, you people?
Of course, none of the people here would have gaming as a hobby.
They were all the type whose 24 hours a day weren't enough just for work. Ignoring Poden's expression of 'I must be crazy for inviting this guy as a special guest,' I watched Colton set down his teacup.
Colton kept his eyes lowered, maintaining a silent pause.
A strange silence settled around us. Ignoring the gazes pricking the back of my neck, I waited for his response. I also ignored Poden's irritated stare.
The invitation to the salon I received through you was probably Colton's behind-the-scenes work, dear Poden. You'll never know in your lifeti.
Colton had a natural talent for getting others to do his dirty work.
The bad friend finally broke the silence after a long mont.
"Then, as thanks for finding a business partner, I'll build a ga center on one floor of the reconstructing tower."
Really?
As expected, nothing beat an old friend!
My face lit up with genuine joy unrelated to any ulterior motive, but Colton continued.
"However, I have no knowledge of gas. Could you provide so guidelines to my subordinates in the third-floor reception room in an hour? It won't take long."
"Ah."
So that was the main point.
Amid the people widening their eyes, I replied with a smile fixed on my face.
"Of course."
That's what a salon was like.
"It would be my honor. I'll definitely head to the third-floor reception room in an hour."
Unnecessary procedures. All sorts of actions for show to the people. Today, we showed the nurous prominent figures who knew nothing that 'Colton and Hildebert t for the first ti.' But now, we also showed that we beca acquaintances for so trivial reason. To hide the truth and move freely behind the conveyed falsehood.
It wouldn't seem strange if we t and talked occasionally from now on, but to give the impression that our conversations would be rather insubstantial.
The third-floor reception room in an hour.
That would be the place for truly substantial conversation. With the ssage clearly conveyed, I comfortably left the table.
*
"Is the commander coming too?"
Ten minutes before the appointed ti. As the salon began to disperse, I asked Ye-hyeon.
My pale superior blinked at before lowering his gaze.
"Yeah. It's a mini eting."
"Ah."
Seeing my boss looking depressed about the suddenly scheduled private eting made feel guilty.
It was obvious the eting had been hastily arranged because of . I sincerely apologized to Ye-hyeon, who was bitterly downing his coffee.
"I'm sorry."
"It's fine. What do you have to be sorry for?"
He looked like a sulky panda.
Ye-hyeon let out a tired voice next to Yoon, who was rolling his eyes in annoyance.
"You're the one suffering going into that reception room full of those guys. Let's head up now. They're probably already gathered."
"Already? They don't seem like the type to arrive early and wait."
"They'll have plenty to discuss among themselves. All three have been missing since 30 minutes ago."
Ah.
I should have realized earlier why people were starting to leave the salon hall one by one. I looked around the now-empty space and nodded. I still had a lot to learn. I hadn't even noticed that fact.
As the focal point vanished, leaving the space feeling empty, I stood up following Ye-hyeon.
If I'd known there was a eting, I would have worn the black suit, Ye-hyeon muttered to himself, and Yoon dryly replied, What's wrong with that?
The ntor, lounging lazily in his chair, looked up at us as we turned to head to the third floor.
"Contact as soon as it's over."
It was directed at Ye-hyeon.
"I'll be waiting here."
"Yeah."
Ye-hyeon replied briskly.
"I'll be quick."
We headed to the third floor.
Passing people gathering their coats and starting to leave, we climbed the stairs.
After two flights, we entered a space devoid of any presence. The soft carpet muffled footsteps. The carpeted corridor led to the reception room at the end of the third floor.
The door, delicately carved with grapevines, covered the reception room. Ye-hyeon strode toward it with large steps and pushed open the wooden door.
With a creak, the door opened.
I followed behind him into the reception room without much thought.
And the mont I passed through the door, I held my breath at the abruptly changing atmosphere.
The air was tense enough to make my skin crawl.
In the sharply honed air like a blade, they all turned to face only in an instant. I couldn't breathe properly. Their unblinking gazes flew and embedded themselves. It felt like they were piercing right through .
Three people sat at the table filling the reception room.
Eric Airheart on the left. Yekaterina on the right.
Colton Wiseman in the center.
Behind the elders stood their retainers, who, like shadows, stood motionless and instantly conveyed a warning with their eyes: make any foolish moves and die. Even just rolling my eyes made the silent warning clear.
'It's a battlefield.'
Even without creatures or weapons.
It felt more suffocating than when I was outside the core. What was this?
I numbly scanned the retainers standing in the reception room.
Colton Wiseman's retainer was Jae-yeon.
Behind Eric Airheart stood a pale man with his red hair half-tied and a man with curly blond hair. Both were strangers. From their positions, the redhead seed higher in rank than the blond, but anyway, the mont my foot touched the reception room floor, both shot gazes full of killing intent.
The redhead with hollow eyes, the blond with a grin, both conveying that I should stay put obediently.
"Ah. Right on ti."
And their master, Eric, greeted with a bored face.
"Co in. Even seeing you again, you're still a dull man."
"Close the door and co in."
Yekaterina scolded coldly from across from Eric.
"How long do you plan to stand there?"
Yekaterina, like Colton, had only one retainer guarding her back.
I closed the door and sat in what was clearly my seat, observing her retainer.
An East Asian man in a pitch-black suit. The man, who seed unlikely to ever smooth his furrowed brow, directed a sharper gaze at than anyone else present.
Short black hair and cold black eyes.
Despite the stiff, irritable impression, he had refined features. Handso, but subtly delicate. As I examined the man's facial features, I blinked. He was really handso in a prickly, irritable way, but delicate.
And sohow...
Familiar?
What? Had I t this guy before?
My head ached subtly, suggesting we were acquaintances? But Yekaterina was definitely a stranger, so why would I know her retainer? And why didn't the mory co rushing back the mont I saw his face, like with Colton or Jae-yeon?
Where had I seen this guy?
Lost in surging doubt for a mont, I snapped back to attention at the click of Jae-yeon lighting Colton's cigar.
Look at spacing out. This wasn't the ti.
I turned my gaze to the center. I saw my old friend slowly putting the cigar in his mouth, and Ye-hyeon sitting between Colton and Eric like an outsider.
I took in the scene like a mafia eting and waited for my friend to speak.
Until the man, wrapped in an atmosphere that could bury soone, exhaled a long stream of smoke, leaned back lazily in his chair, and looked at with eyes devoid of even a fragnt of rcy.
Until he spoke in his true, authoritative voice, devoid of formalities.
"Hildebert."
Smoke billowed thickly from the cigar between his fingers.
"You're still wasting ti on useless things."
"I told you to give up."
Even after all this ti, he still nagged.
"Whether it's opera appreciation or gas, unproductive things are the sa."
"Your crude speech is the sa as ever."
Colton murmured with his eyes closed.
"My old friend."
A being who had shared long years.
A being who had watched the flow of ti, the changing world, each other's changes together. Things that hadn't changed amid everything that did.
Hearing his unchanged voice, I smiled broadly.
My dear companion.
Reviews
All reviews (0)