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The doorbell rang exactly three times.
Yu Ijin, who had been sitting cross-legged on the living room floor with a controller in his hand, slowly lifted his head.
On the TV screen, his character in Legends of League had just been eliminated.
Again.
“…Ijin,” Park Yeongchan said carefully, pushing his glasses up. “You were supposed to retreat.”
“I was,” Ijin replied calmly.
“You ran into four people.”
Silence.
“…They were grouped.”
Ju Hyeokjin stared at him. “That’s the problem.”
Before the argument could continue, the doorbell rang again.
Three times.
Sukjoo froze.
Lee Jaehyung frowned. “Are you expecting someone?”
Ijin already knew.
His eyes were open now.
Focused.
Reading the rhythm. The presence.
“…Stay here,” he said quietly, standing.
There was something in his tone that made all four boys straighten instinctively.
When Ijin opened the door, seven figures stood outside.
002 at the front.
Calm. Unreadable. Hands in his coat pockets.
Behind him—
006 with that faint amused smile.
005 looking bored.
018 scanning the surroundings.
016 silent and sharp.
004 holding a bucket of Korean fried chicken.
And 032 already glancing at the security cameras mounted across the street.
They looked like they were about to walk into a mission.
Instead—
“This is the address,” 005 said flatly.
004 leaned past him. “Smells like food.”
002’s gaze shifted to Ijin.
“You didn’t answer your phone.”
“I was busy,” Ijin replied.
006 tilted his head. “Playing games?”
Silence.
“…Yes.”
004 blinked. “You?”
Ijin’s face remained expressionless.
“…Yes.”
006 burst into quiet laughter.
They stepped inside.
And that’s when it happened.
In the middle of the cozy living room—
Four high school boys sat frozen on the floor, controllers in hand.
Ju Hyeokjin.
Lee Jaehyung.
Koh Sukjoo.
Park Yeongchan.
The air shifted.
It wasn’t loud.
It wasn’t dramatic.
But it was heavy.
The Numbers didn’t look like normal visitors.
They stood too straight.
Their eyes moved too carefully.
Their silence was too sharp.
Yeongchan swallowed.
“Uh,” he whispered, “Ijin… who are they?”
Ijin closed his eyes briefly.
Which meant he was thinking.
“…they're my friends.”
The word hung in the air.
005 raised a brow.
006 smirked.
004 took a bite of chicken.
002 said nothing.
Sukjoo, ever polite even when intimidated, stood up first and bowed slightly.
“Hello. I’m Koh Sukjoo.”
005 stared at him like he was assessing a potential threat.
Jaehyung leaned toward Hyeokjin and muttered, “Why do they look like they walked out of a crime movie?”
“I heard that,” 016 said calmly.
Jaehyung went pale.
Yeongchan gripped his controller like it might protect him.
004 walked further into the room, eyes landing on the game screen.
“…You died.”
Ijin didn’t answer.
006 glanced at the TV. “What rank are you?”
Yeongchan, automatically competitive, replied, “Challenger.”
The entire room paused.
005 looked at him again, differently this time.
“You?” she asked.
“Yes?” Yeongchan squeaked.
004 nodded slowly. “He doesn’t look like he can fight.”
Yeongchan almost choked. “Fight—? Why would I fight—?”
Ijin stepped slightly forward.
It wasn’t aggressive.
But it was protective.
His shoulders squared just a little.
002 noticed.
Of course he did.
002’s gaze moved from the four boys to Ijin.
Then back.
“…They’re civilians,” 018 stated.
“Obviously,” 006 muttered.
The tension only grew worse.
Hyeokjin leaned toward Jaehyung. “Blink twice if we’re about to get kidnapped.”
“I can hear you,” 032 said casually, already sitting down near the router. “Nice internet speed, by the way.”
Sukjoo blinked. “How do you know—”
“I can feel it.”
“That’s not how Wi-Fi works.”
032 shrugged.
002 finally stepped forward into the living room.
The space felt smaller immediately.
He looked at Ijin.
“You’re blending well.”
It wasn’t sarcasm.
It wasn’t praise.
Just observation.
Ijin’s eyes flickered slightly red for a split second—embarrassment, not anger.
“…I’m trying.”
Yeongchan looked between them.
“Trying… what?”
Silence.
006 suddenly clapped his hands lightly.
“So! You guys play with him?”
“Yes,” Jaehyung said quickly. “We’re his team.”
004 looked at the screen again.
“…He’s bad.”
“We know,” all four friends said at once.
Ijin looked mildly offended.
002 almost—almost—looked amused.
Then something unexpected happened.
004 sat down.
On the floor.
Cross-legged.
He pushed the chicken bucket toward the center.
“Move,” he told 005.
005 stared at him.
“…What.”
“You’re blocking the screen.”
006 laughed again and dropped onto the couch arm.
032 had already connected a cable to something he probably shouldn’t have.
018 and 016 sat down on the chairs at the kitchen.
Sukjoo blinked rapidly.
“Are they… staying?”
“Yes,” Ijin replied.
002 slowly removed his coat and placed it neatly over a chair.
He took a seat against the wall—position that allowed him to see every entrance.
Habit.
Always habit.
But his posture relaxed slightly.
“Continue your game,” 002 said calmly.
The four high school boys looked at Ijin.
Ijin gave a small nod.
So they resumed.
Slowly.
Carefully.
As if wild animals were in the room.
Ten minutes later—
006 was giving sarcastic commentary.
005 was criticizing their strategy.
004 was aggressively eating chicken and occasionally yelling when Ijin died.
032 was threatening to “optimize” the matchmaking system.
018 and 016 had silently taken extra controllers.
And 002—
002 watched.
Not the game.
But Ijin.
The way he argued quietly.
The way his eyes closed when he laughed—small, barely there, but real.
The way he leaned slightly toward his friends without realizing it.
Blending.
Living.
Safe.
Yeongchan, still nervous, finally asked in a small voice, “So… how did you all meet Ijin?”
There was a pause.
A long one.
006 glanced at 002.
002 answered.
“We trained together.”
“That’s cool!” Hyeokjin said. “Like sports?”
Silence.
“…Something like that,” 006 replied lightly.
Ijin’s eyes shifted toward 002.
Grateful.
002 didn’t look at him.
But he understood.
By the end of the night, the intimidation had faded.
Jaehyung was arguing with 005 about strategy.
Yeongchan was passionately explaining game mechanics to 018.
004 demanded more chicken.
Sukjoo, surprisingly composed, was analyzing 032’s laptop with interest.
And Ijin?
Ijin sat in the middle of it all.
Scarred hands holding a controller.
Grey hair falling over eyes that were now closed in quiet contentment.
Two worlds.
Mercenary.
Student.
Both in one living room.