“I can do this! I can help too!”
Bobby’s tin pot had slipped so far down that it nearly covered his eyes. His cheeks were flushed, and he panted with exertion.
Perhaps Johan’s earlier encouragement had finally stirred something inside him. Or perhaps, for once in his life, Bobby had managed to summon a genuine burst of courage.
Whatever the reason, he was now clinging desperately to Gas Mask’s arm.
“Johan, I’ll help!”
Bobby had thrown himself into the fight with complete commitment—perhaps more commitment than sense.
He clearly had no idea just how relentless Gas Mask could be.
Impressed despite himself by Bobby’s courage, Seojun snatched up the kitchen knife he had dropped earlier.
Bobby’s intervention had created a precious opening.
“Argh... Ugh...”
“Stab him, Johan! Just stab him!”
For one surreal moment, it seemed as though Johan and Bobby were actually gaining the upper hand.
Seojun’s heart hammered.
They might truly have a chance.
Johan’s blade edged closer while Bobby held tightly to the killer’s arm.
Seojun squeezed his eyes shut for a brief second, then forced them open again.
This was no time to lose himself in emotion.
He needed to get up.
He needed to help Johan.
Then a deafening boom tore across the campsite.
Birds burst from the trees in a frenzy, their wings beating through the darkness like the echo of the original blast.
Johan, Bobby and Seojun all turned toward the sound.
Even Gas Mask appeared momentarily startled.
Then Seojun understood.
It had been a gunshot.
The sound had cracked through the night like lightning, bringing their struggle to an abrupt halt.
Unfortunately, Gas Mask recovered first.
He lifted the crossbow and knocked Johan’s knife aside.
“Ugh!”
The blade flashed in the lantern light as Gas Mask levelled the crossbow at Johan’s exposed chest.
“Johan!”
Seojun did not hesitate.
He hurled himself into Johan, knocking both of them aside.
The bolt hissed past and struck the ground.
Johan regained his footing almost immediately and dragged Seojun up with him. Keeping one protective arm around Seojun, he moved them several steps away from Gas Mask.
The killer, however, made no attempt to reload.
He chose a more direct approach.
“Ah!”
With almost casual force, Gas Mask shoved Bobby aside and seized him by the throat once again.
The Hamon knife, still wet with Seojun’s blood, grazed the skin beneath Bobby’s jaw.
Bobby’s eyes rolled upward.
He began to choke.
“Argh... Ah...”
Gas Mask said nothing.
He did not need to.
The meaning was obvious.
He had taken a hostage.
Seojun tightened his grip around the kitchen knife and swallowed hard.
“Oh God! Please don’t kill me! Somebody help me! Please!”
Bobby first begged Gas Mask for mercy, then turned his desperate pleas toward Johan and Seojun.
Several tense seconds passed before Seojun finally spoke.
“Bobby! I can’t pretend I ever liked you. No, let’s be honest—I couldn’t stand you. But the bravery you showed today will be remembered all across America!”
After all, it was Independence Day.
As expected, Seojun’s solemnly delivered sarcasm only enraged Bobby further.
“You bastard! You’re the real murderer here! I knew I could never rely on you!”
Tears and mucus streamed down Bobby’s face as he turned helplessly toward Johan.
Johan nodded.
“Bobby, we won’t forget your courage. You were genuinely brave today.”
His words differed from Seojun’s, but the message was essentially the same.
What shocked Bobby even more was the coldness in Johan’s voice.
“Johan! How can you do this to me too?”
Bobby had once abandoned his friends after mistakenly deciding that Seojun was a murderer.
But he and Johan had known each other since childhood.
Amid this grotesque spectacle of loyalty and betrayal, Gas Mask merely tilted his head.
He did not release his apparently worthless hostage.
Instead, he tightened his hold around Bobby’s neck, backed slowly away, then vanished into the forest in the opposite direction from the gunshot.
Seojun and Johan remained alert until Gas Mask disappeared completely into the darkness.
Bobby’s curses continued for a while, growing fainter as he was dragged away.
Then both he and the silent killer were gone.
“Ha...”
The strength left Seojun’s body all at once.
Only then did he realize that his back was drenched in sweat and that his clothes had plastered themselves against his skin.
Johan supported him and looked directly into his eyes.
“Jun, are you all right? Does it hurt? It must.”
“Why ask when you’re going to answer for me?”
“But...”
“More importantly, are you all right? I mean, Bobby and I were hardly friends, but you...”
Seojun’s voice trailed off.
How many people could remain composed when their life was in immediate danger?
Johan was still young.
Yet despite everything that had happened, he showed no sign of panic.
“Still, Jun,” Johan said, “there are some things in life that matter more.”
Even though Bobby had just been dragged away, Johan did not appear particularly distressed.
Seojun found himself understanding that sentiment far more deeply than he should have.
Johan Gentil truly embodied the male protagonist of The Murderer of the Bloody Lake.
His character was nothing short of admirable.
“Let me see your hand first.”
“My hand?”
Johan gently pulled Seojun closer and searched through his pockets.
When he failed to find anything useful, he let out a quiet sigh.
At that moment, Seojun could no longer suppress a groan.
“Ugh...”
Tears gathered in his eyes.
Every part of his body hurt.
He had always tried to keep his distance from those so-called Rumplestiltskin babies precisely to avoid situations like this.
Johan eventually took Seojun’s left hand, which was in considerably better condition.
“Let’s remove this bandage and use it on your right hand instead, all right?”
“Yeah. Fine.”
Seojun’s left hand was scraped and cut, but the injuries were insignificant compared with the hole torn through his right hand.
He repeatedly looked away while Johan unwound the bandage.
The pain was not as violent as when the Hamon knife had first pierced him, but it remained almost unbearable.
Johan wrapped the wounded hand tightly.
His voice was heavy with sorrow.
“Never do something like that again, Jun. It was far too dangerous.”
“But what if you had died?”
The answer escaped Seojun before he could stop it.
If Johan died, the danger surrounding Christina would increase dramatically.
Johan needed to remain a reliable shield for both Christina and Seojun in the future.
At least, that was what Seojun firmly believed.
A complicated emotion flickered through Johan’s blue eyes.
But the campsite was so dark, with scarcely any moonlight reaching them, that no one had the luxury of examining his expression carefully.
Johan bit down hard on his lower lip.
The pressure left a clear mark on its soft surface, as though he were punishing himself.
“Just... don’t do it again.”
The tightening bandage sent another wave of pain through Seojun’s hand.
He squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced.
“Jun, does it hurt badly? Try to endure it, even if it does.”
Then Johan began to hum.
A low, gentle melody drifted through the darkness.
His voice was soft and pleasant.
With his view blocked by Johan’s chest, Seojun became acutely aware of every other sensation—especially the warmth radiating from the man standing so close beside him.
Despite Johan’s usual calmness, his body gave off a distinct heat.
The unfamiliar sensation left Seojun strangely embarrassed.
He had no time to dwell on it.
“Human skulls are stronger than you think,” Johan said lightly. “Besides, I used to play American football. I’m accustomed to a few blows.”
The casual remark immediately reignited Seojun’s anger.
He opened his eyes and glared at Johan.
His bloodshot gaze looked almost ready to bleed.
“Accustomed to them? With Gas Mask’s strength and speed, he could have shattered your skull or driven the blade into your brain. One wrong movement and he could have burst your eye. Don’t underestimate that lunatic. Impossible things happen far too easily in this world.”
Seojun held up the hole in his palm for emphasis.
Johan raised an eyebrow.
Then, looking as forlorn as an injured puppy, he carefully took Seojun’s hand.
“You’re right. I’m sorry, Jun. With the government concealing aliens from the public, I really shouldn’t have been so careless.”
Seojun believed in body possession.
Johan believed the government was covering up the existence of extraterrestrials.
Seojun stared at him with open disdain.
At present, however, treating his hand mattered more than debating conspiracy theories.
They had already wasted too much time.
Seojun picked up the lantern lying on the ground.
Fortunately, although Bobby had been abducted, the lantern he had carried remained intact.
“At least this still works. Did you see which way Gas Mask went? This is our opportunity. Since we encountered him here, Christina should be safe, and the guardhouse should be empty.”
Seojun paused and drew a slow breath.
Too many questions remained unanswered.
Who had fired the gun?
Was the shooter connected to the person with the crossbow?
Why had Gas Mask taken Bobby alive?
They did not have enough time to investigate every mystery one by one.
“Of course, the guardhouse may not be completely undefended. Gas Mask works there. He may have prepared traps or some other security measures.”
Considering that none of their mobile phones worked, sabotage seemed entirely possible.
Then again, perhaps the reception was simply terrible this far into the wilderness.
A bitter smile twisted Seojun’s thin lips.
He had spent his entire life in the cities of South Korea.
He had never imagined that he would one day find himself stranded among the vast forests and lakes of America.
“We need to move before Gas Mask returns. Christina and Willy are probably heading for the guardhouse as well.”
In the end, the landline inside the guardhouse remained their only hope.
Even if that hope hung from a rotten, fraying thread, reality was often that merciless.
“All right. Let’s go, Johan.”
“But Jun, doesn’t your hand hurt? Do you want me to carry you?”
“Wow, Johan. You can fight Gas Mask with nothing but your legs. You’re incredible.”
“Well, that’s...”
Joking weakly with one another, Johan and Seojun set off once more.
Neither of them mentioned the darker possibilities.
They did not speak of Christina, Airi or William.
And they carefully avoided wondering whether any of them had been involved in the gunshot that had torn through the night.