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Junho took long strides, running swiftly. As a police officer, his agility was exceptional. He had undergone extensive training, and his physical fitness surpassed standard requirements. He turned left, evading pursuit, only to be met with a corridor lined with doors on both sides and one more at the far end. Instinctively, humans tend to assume that an exit door would be at the end of a hallway rather than among the many on the sides.
Without hesitation, Junho sprinted towards that door, his deft hands gripping the handle and swinging it open.
"Wait, Junho!"
But alas, he wasn’t the only officer here. The one chasing him was a former police officer with an outstanding record as well. His strong hand reached out, attempting to seize Junho. Though Junho had already stepped halfway into the room, the first grab missed. However, the pursuer, clad in black gloves, swiftly adjusted his aim, grabbing lower around Junho’s waist. It worked. He caught hold of Junho’s midsection, but that wasn’t enough to restrain him. As Junho pushed forward through the door, a soft click sounded behind him. Unprepared for the sudden force pulling him forward, Junho staggered into the room.
With the added momentum from his pursuer another man of similar build Junho was thrown off balance, nearly falling forward.
"Are you alright?"
The more experienced man instinctively stepped forward to redistribute his weight, tightening his grip around Junho’s arm to prevent them both from toppling over.
For a brief moment, Junho stared into his brother’s face. He parted his lips, about to thank him as he always had. But when his eyes met Inho’s, a realization struck him this might not be the brother he once knew. Snapping back to his senses, Junho immediately shoved him away, taking long steps backward to distance himself from the man who used to be his brother.
A single glance around the room made Junho realize his instincts had failed him. This wasn’t an exit. It was just another room. He let out a bitter laugh. What was the point of trusting human instincts in a place where humanity had ceased to exist? A place built to make people slaughter each other, traffic human organs, and treat others as mere objects.
Junho turned toward the opposite side of the room, searching for another way out. But there was no door there. He kept stepping back, increasing the distance between himself and his former brother. Yes, he was still the one being chased. And when he saw that there was no other door, disappointment set in. The only way out was the door he had entered through. But he didn’t want to go near it not when his pursuer was still standing there, unmoving.
Yet, as Junho’s eyes locked onto him, it was as if the man understood exactly what he was thinking. He took a step away from the doorway.
The door he once thought was an exit was now the entrance to a large white room. The brightness of the room was almost blinding. Inside, there was nothing but an empty space. The room was about 16 square meters in size enough to fit furniture while still leaving plenty of space. It wasn’t cluttered to the point of being uncomfortable, but when only two people occupied it, the room suddenly felt vast.
"Slap the other person once, with full force." That was the command of the room.
Junho stared in shock, confusion, and suspicion.
"Alright, let's end this," Inho said as he stepped toward his younger brother.
Junho shut his eyes tightly, surprising Inho. The older brother was taken aback when he saw Junho squeeze his eyes shut, bracing himself for impact. But when the slap never came, Junho hesitantly opened his eyes, confused.
"Why did you close your eyes, Junho?" Inho asked, his eyes reflecting his surprise.
"Aren't you going to slap me?" Junho’s polite tone made them feel like strangers.
"No, I meant for you to slap me," Inho clarified, shaking his head.
"No. I won’t do it," Junho refused.
"Why are you so shocked? It’s not like we haven’t shot at each other before," Inho scoffed, finding the conversation ridiculous. His younger brother was making such a big deal out of a simple slap.
"That was different! I didn’t know you were my brother back then!" Junho snapped, his anger boiling over.
"But you—! You shot me knowing full well who I was! And you still pulled the trigger!" Junho grabbed Inho’s arm, his grip tightening unconsciously from the force of his emotions.
Inho must have felt the pain, but his attention was drawn to Junho’s eyes, burning with suppressed rage.
"Then go ahead, slap me! It’s not like you haven’t shot me before!" Junho shot back.
Seeing that his brother remained frozen, Junho grabbed Inho’s hand and tried to force it against his own cheek.
But before he could succeed, Inho tensed his hand, resisting his younger brother’s attempt. Junho struggled against his brother’s strength, a scene reminiscent of their childhood arm-wrestling contests—where Inho would always let him win just to see him smile.
But that past was long gone.
Junho let out a bitter laugh when he realized he couldn’t overpower his brother.
"I never expected a disgraced ex-cop to still have this much strength," he sneered, twisting the knife deeper into his brother’s wounds.
"Junho…" Inho’s voice was quiet, almost pleading.
Junho smirked again and finally let go.
"You must be thinking by the rules, right? The instructions said ‘slap with full force.’ If I interfered with your action, it wouldn’t count as a full-force slap, would it?" Junho mocked.
"Junho, you know that’s not the point," Inho’s patience was running thin. Junho was speaking as if he truly believed Inho wanted to hurt him, as if Inho had never regretted his actions.
Inho clenched his fists tighter. He wasn’t even aware of it until he noticed Junho’s slight flinch his brows furrowed, and his eyes narrowed as if in pain.
Realizing this, Junho suddenly yanked his arm away. Only then did Inho see the red marks his grip had left on his brother’s skin.
Junho stepped back, his body language screaming unease. Even though his face remained neutral, the way he distanced himself spoke volumes. The trust that had once existed between them had crumbled completely.
"Junho… I—" Inho started, but when he took a step forward, Junho immediately recoiled, his eyes still locked onto him.
"When will you be ready?" Junho’s formal tone stung.
"I’ll be ready when you’re ready to slap me," Inho responded, reverting to the familiar way he used to speak to Junho, hoping his brother would do the same.
"I’m not the one who’s supposed to slap. You are." Junho’s words drove the truth home once more.
Inho didn’t blame him. It was his fault. All of it.
"Such great acting. Do you want an Oscar too?" Junho sneered.
"Time’s up. Since you failed to complete the task, you will now receive a penalty."
Red lights flashed throughout the room. Whatever the penalty was, it wouldn’t be good.
Without warning, Inho lunged toward Junho, pressing his black square-shaped mask into his younger brother’s hands.
"What?" Jun-ho asked in confusion at the man’s actions, refusing to take the mask being offered to him.
"Just put it on," his older brother insisted, his voice urgent. He paid no mind to Jun-ho’s resistance and instead forcefully pressed the mask against his younger brother’s face.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Jun-ho struggled against him, but In-ho shoved him down with enough force to make him collapse. In-ho didn’t stop. He pinned his younger brother flat against the ground, his strong hands pressing the mask firmly onto Jun-ho’s face.
Jun-ho had never been one to follow orders, even as a child. He pushed against his brother, trying to fight back, but his resistance faltered when In-ho straddled him, completely overpowering him. Jun-ho simply couldn’t match his brother’s strength.
In-ho’s gaze remained steady, fixated on him. That was when Jun-ho became aware of something—oxygen was thinning.
"Stay still."
In-ho’s voice was hoarse, softer than usual.
And then Jun-ho realized—the feeling of dwindling oxygen wasn’t just in his head. The air in the room was actually running out.
The moment he grasped this, he stopped his reckless struggling. Fighting against his brother now would only make things worse. The air he breathed was so thin that it barely filled his lungs, making each breath feel shallow and strained. It was suffocating—like having a bad cold that clogged his airways, preventing him from breathing properly.
Yet, in the midst of this misfortune, there was a sliver of luck—the remaining oxygen, though scarce, was still enough to keep them alive for now.
Time continued to pass. Jin-ho had no idea how long it had been, but to him, it felt like hours. He tried to avoid looking at his older brother’s face, but in the end, he couldn’t suppress his curiosity. When he glanced at In-ho, he saw that his brother remained frozen in the same position, as if trying to conserve as much oxygen as possible. His posture was strange—he was bracing himself against the ground with both arms, pressing them firmly between himself and Jun-ho. From the beginning, he had maintained this position.
Time continued to flow slowly. Jun-ho noticed his brother blinking—sometimes in rapid succession, sometimes closing his eyes for extended periods, and sometimes keeping them open for an uncomfortably long time. In-ho was also trying to avoid eye contact with him. This made it easier for Jun-ho to observe him without being noticed. He chuckled to himself. Perhaps this was the only thing he could do while waiting endlessly, not knowing when this ordeal would end. Studying his brother’s blinking patterns might just be an interesting topic to entertain himself with. He scoffed at himself in amusement.
Jun-ho carefully observed the changes in In-ho’s face. It wasn’t difficult, given their close proximity. The youthful look In-ho once had was long gone—ever since he lost his wife and child. He seemed to have abandoned everything, showing no interest in the world anymore. He aged rapidly, becoming a middle-aged man far too soon due to neglecting himself. Though his youthful features had faded over time, his sharp and defined facial structure had become even more pronounced. His jawline had grown more distinct now that the remnants of his former self had faded. Or perhaps, Jun-ho was simply trapped in the memories of the past, back when they were still close. He had forgotten that his brother had changed so much—not just in demeanor but in appearance too.
The structure of In-ho’s face had become sharper with age. His hair, once styled neatly, had fallen slightly out of place due to gravity. This reminded Jun-ho of his brother’s old hairstyle, making him feel a wave of nostalgia. Back then, when his hair fell naturally, it softened his features. Now, Jun-ho could see faint lines beginning to form on In-ho’s forehead. His eyebrows remained thick and dark. His eyelashes weren’t too long to be bothersome, nor too short to be invisible—they were of a perfect length. His nose remained sharp and well-defined, just as before. His lips had darkened slightly but still retained their natural shape.
Jun-ho’s gaze didn’t drift lower than his brother’s neck, yet something about it made him instinctively swallow, as if questioning whether he had even swallowed at all. When he lifted his eyes again, he found In-ho already staring at him. Their dark eyes locked onto each other. In-ho’s gaze was steady, completely focused on him.
Jun-ho wasn’t one to back down. He wouldn’t lose in a staring contest.
There was something in In-ho’s eyes—a mix of emotions swirling together. A hint of reminiscing, a flicker of unsettled feelings. There were layers upon layers of emotions surging within those deep eyes. Staring into them for too long made Jun-ho feel dizzy.
Then suddenly, clarity burst into his mind.
Jun-ho blinked as he inhaled deeply. A rush of oxygen flooded his lungs, making his heart pound with relief. It seemed that In-ho also sensed the return of normal oxygen levels. His brother finally broke eye contact, closing his eyes in exhaustion.
And with that, Jun-ho was free.
No longer trapped in place, no longer restrained by the arms his brother had used to pin him down. Without hesitation, Jun-ho shoved In-ho away. The unexpected force sent his brother tumbling back without resistance. Jun-ho was briefly surprised by how weak he seemed—just moments ago, In-ho had held him down with immense strength. But he didn’t dwell on it.
As soon as he was free, he rushed toward the door. He tried to open it, but it remained locked. Frustrated, he stepped back and attempted to force it open with brute strength. Still, nothing happened.
Taking a step back, he braced himself again.
He knew this wouldn’t be easy.
A normal door wouldn’t break down with just one or two strikes.
He stepped back, bracing himself to ram it open.
Before he could, Inho’s voice cut through the silence.
"Don't try to do anything stupid," the one who had been pushed away finally found a place to steady himself. In-ho sat leaning against the white wall, watching him. His stomach rose and fell with each breath, his once neatly styled hair now falling messily over his forehead. Junho noticed that his brother’s recovery seemed unusually slow compared to his own. However, when he considered their age gap, he dismissed the thought as unimportant.
"We don't know what's coming next," In-ho spoke again, warning his younger brother not to act recklessly.
"Damn it! How long has it been?" Junho slumped down against the door, ruffling his own hair in frustration at their predicament, unable to find a way out.
The room fell into silence for a moment, leaving Junho to simmer in his irritation.
"Five minutes. The last stage we went through lasted five minutes," In-ho's voice suddenly broke the silence. Junho turned to look at him, confusion filling his mind. How did his brother know that? And it seemed as though In-ho could read his thoughts because he answered before Junho could even ask.
"I was counting the time."
Junho laughed dryly at himself. While In-ho had been counting the seconds, Junho had wasted time examining his brother’s face like an idiot. If nothing else, at least he could write a detailed report about In-ho’s facial features now.
For the moment, they had a chance to catch their breath. Junho secretly hoped that the door would unlock soon, perhaps after a cooldown period following their punishment. But fate had a cruel sense of humor. Junho had been too optimistic. Not long after, the room began filling with a strange gas.
"You idiot! Put on the mask!" In-ho rushed toward him again.
"What the hell does this mask even do? Why do you want me to wear it so badly?" Junho snapped, finally losing patience with his brother's obsession over the mask.
"It filters out toxic gas! So shut up and put it on!"
The tightness grew until it felt like pain all over his body. The more he tried to endure it, the more it seemed to cause more pain. His face scrunched up in pain, and his eyebrows furrowed according to his mood.
Jun-ho couldn't hold it in any longer. Heat spread all over his body, along with the pain that was pressing down. His body wanted to be released. He wanted to be released. His white teeth bit his gloves to pull them off, while his other hand was trying to free himself from the restraints below. When he finished taking off the gloves, he threw them out of his mouth, throwing them away without a care. While biting the other glove, he switched to the bare one and continued working on finishing it. His black gloves were scattered everywhere, and Jun-ho didn't have time to care about them that much.
"Junho- What are you doing-" A hoarse voice rang out. He didn't have to look to know who it was. There were only two people in the room. But in the end, his instincts made him turn to look for the voice. The other person's face was distorted from trying to contain his emotions. His hair was disheveled and messy. His face was flushed, with beads of sweat flowing down his face. His nostrils were flaring, trying to breathe quickly. His lips were swollen, just like his own.
Oh, now the blood was flowing out. Junho stuck out his tongue and licked his dry lips. He couldn't make out any words, except for a soft moan from the force of his emotions that seemed to answer the question very well.
"Oh- God, stop." Inho immediately closed his eyes, as if he didn't want to see those images anymore. Junho looked at Inho who was trying to fight against his emotions. The image made him feel more aroused instead. Junho's emotions were now covered by his desires and the desire to defeat his brother. When he saw the other trying hard to close his eyes to reject him, it made Junho want to move closer to open the other person's eyes, to stare only at him.
But because of the still high emotion, he couldn't move away right now. The slender and thick hands that had held the gun and weapons many times were now gripping his own hot rod from the stimulation of the drug. His thumb traced his own desires. He knew himself well enough to know how to please himself. But the shirt that fell down from gravity every now and then made him irritated. He lifted the hem of his shirt, lifted it up, and bit it to prevent it from falling again. His body temperature kept rising. It felt hot all over. Both the hands that he was holding and his arousal were burning as if they were slightly burned. Both of his thick hands moved up and down hurriedly to release the torture. He sped up the speed of his hands that were moving up and down right now. His eyes stared at the other person opposite him. The other person's eyes were still closed before he started turning his head away from him. Jun-ho groaned like a child who was disappointed when he didn't get a toy. Why did the other person have to try so hard to avoid him? But suddenly his brain started to spin. He felt a small electric shock. His thick hands started to increase their speed when he felt the waves of pleasure that were hitting him. He moved his hands to chase the speed of his desire faster and faster. The idle lips bit the cloth tightly from the stimulation, and suddenly his body jerked up.
"Oh- God- Yes..." The mouth that had been biting the cloth opened wider, with a high-pitched moan from the release. White ropes shot out, staining his clothes and his stomach all over. It was great, it felt so good. He couldn't even remember the last time he felt this good. It was like his brain was still covered in a thin fog of desire. He breathed heavily from the trembling of his heart after his own activity. But as soon as he took another breath, the fire of desire was ignited again. The stiffness returned until the owner of the body could only groan at what was happening. While his heart was pumping from his own exercise activities, he could hear the heartbeat thumping in his chest, but there was another sound that interrupted it, it was the heavy breathing of someone, who he knew was looking away from him.