The Den of the Master

“You’d better watch that goddamn tongue of yours. No matter how much Owen dotes on you, he won’t put up with everything.”

“You know it’s pathetic to bark like that when you’re just a stray who couldn’t even catch his eye, right?”

“You little son of a b*tch.”

Finally, the man grabbed Luke by the collar. Those sitting at the tables whistled, and the staff, instead of showing concern for the common brawl, merely shouted in annoyance for someone to pay for the broken glasses. I seemed to be the only one in this room horrified by the situation. It was true that Luke was tall for his age, but compared to the man, he looked slender. To exaggerate only slightly, the man’s thigh looked as thick as Luke’s waist.

“Want to try again? I’m looking forward to seeing what trick you’ve prepared this time.”

“Insolent brat…”

I reflexively closed my eyes as he swung his fist, but when I peeked through trembling lashes, I saw something unexpected. A sickening crack, too loud to be just a kick to the thigh, echoed through the air. As the man collapsed, writhing on the floor, Luke stepped forward and stomped on the exact same spot.

“The insolent one is you, Ron. If you’ve lost once, you should either tuck your tail between your legs or challenge me properly. I spared you because you at least knew how to bark for your status. But if you keep failing to meet my expectations like this, don’t you think I might get a little angry?”

Luke struck the abdomen of the man who was struggling to sit up in agony. Then, he pulled a dagger from the man’s own coat, casually tossing it up and catching it.

“You… fu… ck…”

“And what if this is the kid I’m sleeping with? What are you going to do about it? It’s not like there are any prostitutes left who will take you, is there? The only reason you can even get laid in the Nox is because everyone here is too drugged out of their minds to care. Is one leg really not enough? Is that why you keep picking fights?”

The prosthetic leg made a harsh screeching sound against the floor. Luke was the one who cut off his leg? I realized then how utterly ridiculous it had been for me to worry about him just moments ago.

“Why act like this with a face I can’t even look at with affection? Maybe I should just cut off your prick next time. It’s useless anyway. If you carried it around while begging, maybe someone would look at you with pity.”

Luke aimed the blade between the man’s legs as if he were ready to do it right then and there. The man struggled, but Luke held him down effortlessly.

“If you’re that desperate, should I shove your severed cock up your own hole?”

Even the men who had been laughing and drinking with Ron didn’t take his side; they just kept laughing. In this place, friendship could be bought for the price of a drink, but it vanished the moment the glass was empty.

As the blade slowly pressed toward his groin, the man, who had been screaming curses, gritted his teeth until the veins in his neck bulged. Luke laughed at the sight and stood up.

“Scared, Ron? As if I’d even want to touch that pathetic thing of yours. If you’ve got nothing else to stand on, you might as well keep your pride up.”

With his dignity crushed beyond repair, the man contorted his face in a grimace and spat out curses, but no one was intimidated. He was a loser who had been broken twice over by someone much younger and smaller than him, and he had been humiliated in front of everyone. Still, the way the man glared at Luke suggested he was capable of anything.

“Let’s go up.”

“Shouldn’t you… finish him properly?”

Even a worm will turn when trodden upon. It seemed better to just kill him; there was no telling what he might do if left alive like that. Luke blinked at my words and gave a loose smile. If the Crown Prince’s smile was unearthly and enchanting, and Cedric’s was—at least at the time—somewhat cute, Luke’s was dangerous. I remembered Erkel emphasizing that I should avoid encountering this man at all costs.

“I appreciate the concern, but it’s fine. This isn’t a place merciful enough to let a two-time loser keep living.”

Concern? As if I had any business worrying about him. Luke was the kind of person who would survive being thrown anywhere and come back to kill the one who threw him. He wasn’t someone who needed anyone’s pity. I wanted to see what would happen to the man who had fallen from hunter to prey, but Luke pushed me forward and shielded my back. I climbed the stairs as he prompted. They weren’t narrow, but they creaked heavily.

I had followed him because he said he’d help find Elliot. Only now, with our destination in sight, did I ask the question I’d been holding back.

“What’s upstairs?”

“The Master of the Nox.”

The floorboards creaked in a dissonant rhythm as our mismatched strides fell out of sync. Luke crossed the hallway with long, confident steps, while I faltered, gripping his clothes for fear of losing him. When he opened a black door at the very end of the hall—looking as if it had been freshly painted—a cloud of smoke billowed out. The acrid smell stung my eyes and nose like needles. I hurriedly covered my face with my sleeve, but tears and coughs had already escaped.

“And what kind of thing is this?”

A man with short blonde hair held a cigar in his hand and exhaled smoke directly into my face. Only then did I realize where the smoke was coming from. I couldn’t be sure, but his eyes weren’t glazed over, so it didn’t seem to be drugs. The man watched me as I coughed. A scar ran across his left eye, descending all the way to his cheek.

“Since when did we start dealing in rent-boys?”

Luke didn’t provoke him like he had the man downstairs, but he pulled me along by the hand without answering. I tensed up, fearing another fight, but the man didn’t take offense; instead, he laughed loudly, shouting, “You damn brat!”

In the thick smoke, relying only on the dim lamplight, Luke managed to navigate perfectly without bumping into anything. Did his cat-like gold eyes actually allow him to see through the dark?

“Owen.”

The man leaning back in the chair looked like a statue. I don’t mean he was “beautiful like a sculpture,” but rather that the play of light and shadow on him was extremely dramatic.

Black curls were scattered over sallow, bloodless skin, and his eyes were deep set under thick brows. Prominent cheekbones, hollow cheeks, a solid jaw. The body revealed beneath his half-open shirt—hardly worth wearing at all—seemed modest in scale compared to Ron, who was likely still trembling with shame downstairs, but it looked incredibly dense and strong.

This was the Master of the Nox. I froze, my gaze fixed on him. Or rather, I couldn’t look away. The man looked so powerful, as if he could never be defeated. It was hard to believe that in a few years, he would yield the throne to Luke.

“This is Rin. It’s his first time in the Nox; says he hasn’t been on the streets long. Looks like Beron is teaching him the ropes.”

I had never mentioned how long I’d been on the streets, and I had no idea who Beron was, but I wasn’t tactless enough to ruin the moment. I accepted the identity Luke had crafted for me. Seeing how Luke, who usually ignored everyone’s questions, addressed Owen first made the power dynamic between Owen and the others clear. I glanced around and bowed my head in greeting, but no one acknowledged it.

Luke’s voice remained melodic as he stated his purpose to Owen without any hint of embarrassment.

“He lost a friend. He thinks the friend might have ended up in the Nox and wants to find him.”

“Do you think this place is a daycare?”

The sarcastic reply didn’t come from Owen, but from a woman who appeared from behind. She was tall enough to be easily spotted in any crowd and radiated a fierce energy. Her tightly tied brown hair looked gold or red depending on how the dim light hit the faded strands, and her muscles were taut beneath the leather straps cinching her thighs, shoulders, and chest. Like a blade without a sheath, the woman snatched me by the throat before I could even blink. My hat fell off easily, its purpose forgotten.

“Don’t get too cocky, Luke. If Rosen had a face like this, they wouldn’t be teaching him chores; they’d be raising him to be a whore. You don’t even see this level of quality at the Blue Gate often.”

A choked gasp escaped me. I realized then that when Luke had grabbed my chin, he was practically playing. Even though she wasn’t intending to kill me, her grip was suffocating. My feet left the ground, kicking at the air. It felt like she could snap my neck with a simple twist. Instead of intervening, Luke picked up my hat and brushed off the dust.

“I didn’t come here for your permission.”

“Owen might let everything slide when it comes to you, but I won’t. Don’t drag in some brat of unknown origin and try to pull a fast one.”

In the middle of their power struggle, I was the one dying. I made wretched, wheezing sounds as I struggled for air. I struck and scratched at the woman’s wrist, but her hard muscle didn’t budge. Oh, please, stop. A memory I had begun to forget along with my fading nightmares resurfaced—the feeling of a pipe slowly tightening inside my throat, cutting off my breath.

The one who saved me was the man who had blown smoke in my face. Stepping between Luke and the woman, he said, “Both of you, calm down,” and set me down. A hand patted my back as I gasped for air.

“Why pick on the kid, Rel? Isn’t it overstepping your bounds to interfere with something Owen allows?”

“Take that brat and get out of my sight then.”

The irritated woman added, “I wasn’t even squeezing that hard! He’s just crying for show.” From her dismissive attitude, I realized she truly mistook me for a low-level prostitute.