“Unshareable”  Kim Seung-eun had been dipping his feet into Sakdal for two years now. Before that, he lived on the outskirts of the Taeul District.A regular job, a modest rental home—in other words, a shabby, uneventful life.He spent his days checking the cutlery factory machines in three shifts, getting older one day at a time, until one day he followed a coworker and discovered the nightlife district as if by fate.On his first visit, he put in 5 dil on the slot machine—and hit a minor jackpot: 788 dil. His eyes went wide seeing pocket change turn into a small fortune.From then on, he took the train to Sakdal after work, played all night, slept in a nearby motel for a few hours, then went straight back to work.Slots, roulette, Big Wheel, poker—he lost a little, won a little. He’d spend 50 dil and win 60, spend 30 dil and lose 50.By the time his initial winnings were gone, a dealer offered him access to a special zone: higher minimum bets, but once you hit it, payouts topped 1,000 dil.That very evening, he wagered 300 dil and walked away with over 500 dil. Afterward, he had his ups and downs—but he kept pouring money back in until he recouped his principal.The bigger he bet, the bigger he won. Lost money could always be recovered with another win. So he sacrificed precious vacation days to gamble—and before he knew it, more than 5,000 dil vanished in an instant.He grew anxious. That sum exceeded three months’ salary. Even if he saved every dil beyond living and rent, he could only set aside 400 dil a month—so it would take at «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» least a year to rebuild that stash.“Enough!”Then one night he finally scored big: 2,800 dil flooded into his hand. A rush of dopamine and hope filled his chest. Six months of steady saving and he’d erase his losses.But he used that windfall as seed money for even bigger bets—winning, losing, winning, losing.Barely two months after he began gambling, Kim Seung-eun amassed 12,000 dil of debt and was fired for neglecting his duties.Unable to pay rent, he lost his Taeul District address. Only when he collapsed in a Sakdal motel did he realize how comfortable his old, uneventful life had truly been.His ensuing life mirrored the lower depths of Sakdal. He toiled for paltry wages, then rushed straight to the casino. To win big from small stakes, he risked the most perilous games—and, when money was offered, he began dabbling in dangerous jobs.Around that time, a middle manager on his street proposed some “easy money”: simple drop-off and pickup tasks—leave or retrieve packages from designated spots. Though he no longer lived in a proper residential area, with no criminal record he walked past any checkpoint. The extra cash gave him more gambling time.The manager entrusted him with ever more work, and slowly Kim Seung-eun’s debt shrank to 8,000 dil. Then today, he was ordered to vandalize a poster or sign in a back alley of Jaegang District.“Christ… why’s this place so creepy?”At dawn, Seung-eun arrived at the instructed spot. A neat concrete wall held an advertisement poster for a bar: a smiling wolf.A rather random ad. He scraped it off in a hurry—and something gleamed faintly behind the torn paper.Curious, he drew closer. A crystal. It was clearly a crystal shard embedded in the wall. Seung-eun’s eyes widened as he scanned his surroundings.Why would something so valuable be here? Maybe the boss meant to retrieve the crystal? No—the order was only to destroy any noticeable sign, not to pry out rare gems.As he hesitated, realization dawned: the manager—maybe even whoever was behind him—likely only guessed there was something behind the poster, without knowing exactly what.Panic in his eyes gave way to greed. If he sold the crystal, he could hole up in the casino for five days straight chasing big wins.“By its size, this must be top-grade.”His heart raced at the prospect. He drew a folding knife from his pocket and wedged it between the crystal and the concrete.Click. The gem popped free and fell into his hand. Seung-eun clasped it tightly and turned to leave—when a pleasant voice called out behind him:“You’re not supposed to take that.”Startled, he spun around. A dark-haired man leaned against the wall with no hint of movement, eyes glowing red in the shadows.The man rose slowly, and in an instant their eye levels shifted sharply.“I never said to bring that, Cheong.”A soft but chilling tone. Even in the dim light, his handsome face drew the eye—flawless skin that seemed almost inhuman, garments simple yet betraying aristocratic origin.What to do? Seung-eun’s mind raced: colossal debts, no security cameras here, no one aware of the crystal’s existence—just this untested young master.“Fuck off, will you?” he snarled, brandishing his knife as a threat.But though Seung-eun lunged, the man didn’t flinch. The blade snagged on his sleeve, carving a long gouge.“It’s the outfit Jin Muhae bought me.”The man murmured nonsense—was Seung-eun really going to stab him?Just as Seung-eun realized the man had surely seen him pocket the crystal…Crack!A strange noise and a surge of pain burned through his elbow. He opened his mouth to scream, but something clamped over it, muffling any sound.In his blurred vision, the man’s awkward expression as he released Seung-eun’s arm.Clatter… thud. His forearm, bone stark white, tumbled to the ground in a pool of blood.“…!”“Oops. Guess I misjudged my own strength.”Unheard, unspoken, his agony pierced his brain. The sight was equally shocking—but no scream escaped; the man’s one hand still covered his mouth and nose.Worse than the pain was the terror, as if confronting an inexplicable being. His mind went white, his legs felt like air.“Hmm. It’s getting noisy.”The man muttered, lowering his brows. His bright red eyes appraised Seung-eun in silent calculation.“As long as the meat’s still there, nobody’ll notice, right?”He licked his lips at that bizarre utterance—then, silence, as the pain ceased. In Seung-eun’s fading hearing, crack, crack, clank echoed like an imprint.  “Usually you’re whining about being hungry, but today you’re quiet.”“I had cereal.”“And you’re not talking about meat.”“…I want meat.”Joo-o answered awkwardly, averting his eyes.No surprise there—he’d gone out at dawn and come back carrying bags of food.Jin Muhae clicked his tongue and picked up the laundry basket. The house was a mess from postponed cleaning, so he planned to tackle the mountain of dirty clothes first.“Give me your clothes.”“My clothes?”“The ones you wore out this morning. Why haven’t you laid them out after your shower?”But Joo-o again looked away, the whites of his eyes showing too much. Something was bothering him.“There are no clothes.”“Cut the crap. Unless you tore them up eating meat, why would your clothes vanish?”“…”Unusually silent, he stared at the ceiling. Muhae frowned, turning away.It was predictable—trudging around without caution in the dark, he must have ripped them. The thought of him secretly discarding clothes at dawn was absurd—and yet faintly amusing.He gorged on meals and snacks but still felt something missing, prompting these “miracle morning” outings. Though he no longer drooled, his appetite hadn’t lessened.“…Hey.”Muhae, about to let it slide, stopped in his tracks. Something was odd: not only were the clothes missing, but the underwear he’d thrown down after showering was gone too.Sleeves or pant legs could snag on a protruding nail and tear—but inner garments?“What were you doing out there?”At Muhae’s low voice, Joo-o’s lip trembled. Muhae’s gaze sharpened. Where had he gotten all that food in the pre-dawn hours? And why did his clothes disappear?“Nothing.”“Then what’s this ‘nothing’?”“I want meat. Okay?”“You. Get over here.”Muhae beckoned with a finger. Joo-o, who had avoided Muhae’s gaze, froze and approached like a guilty child. Muhae suddenly grabbed his shirt and hoisted him up.His flat, pale belly showed no marks, scars, or bruises—nothing implied any outside touch. Muhae’s stomach churned. Whatever happened this morning, the mental image was unpleasant.‘Good grief, what’s he been messing with?’Joo-o loved being petted. Whoever he was, a gentle tickle and cheek rub would loosen his expression. Lately he’d been suspiciously talking about walks and returning with candy, as if collecting scraps.Jaegang District was fairly safe; he even went hatless without comment. But with him in this state, had someone strange latched on?Yet how could Muhae question him? “Who touched you?” or “Did they pet you?”—that would embarrass Joo-o.“Someone took your clothes.”“No one took them. I threw them away.”“Why toss perfectly good clothes?”“Just… threw them out. I’ll buy you new ones, Muhae…”All the while, Joo-o looked worried, as if expecting to be scolded for losing clothes Muhae had bought him. Anxiety swam in his widened eyes.Damn. Muhae’s throat tightened at the uncomfortable emotion. Anger flared and then cooled. It was time to start that long-postponed “socialization training.”“You… sigh.”Words caught in his throat. Muhae ground his teeth silently.

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