GB 124

Cape Town. 

The local officer who came to escort his superior stealthily glanced at the tall figure before him with a troubled expression. 

Time was running short.

With less than three hours until the departure of Yoon Moo-hwa’s ship, the ‘Manta Ray,’ they needed to return soon.

Surely that person must know this. He’s so famous after all. Having played the role of a hero like a machine. No matter how heroic, even he wouldn’t be forgiven for the sin of missing his ship due to tardiness in naval society. The officer had volunteered hoping to gain favor with this renowned figure whose continuous success and smooth path were guaranteed, but now he worried he might end up taking the blame instead.

“Uh, Colonel.” 

“Yes.” 

“It’s three hours until departure, sir.” 

“I know.”

Do you really know?

Suddenly, Yoon Moo-hwa had asked to go to a store that might sell children’s toys. They quickly drove to the first place, but Yoon Moo-hwa didn’t find what he wanted and asked if there were other stores.

This was now the third place they had moved to. Surely he must know this would be the last stop…

“Ah, that one! It’s the most popular!”

The owner of the shop rushed out excitedly from the store where Yoon Moo-hwa seemed particularly reluctant to leave. Yoon Moo-hwa gave a quick glance at the boisterous foreign language being spoken.

He was clearly a handsome, tall man who attracted admiring looks from passersby, so the store owner was delighted that he had stopped in front of his shop. The owner winked at the young men lingering beside Yoon Moo-hwa and approached him.

“These days, everyone buys only this, regardless of gender.”

What the owner proudly offered was a children’s kit for drawing nautical charts. Even to the officer, it looked like an excellent gift. The box containing the kit was as pretty as a treasure chest. It would be expensive, of course, but would price matter to Yoon Moo-hwa?

But… who was it for? He hadn’t heard that Yoon Moo-hwa was married or had children.

While the officer wondered, Yoon Moo-hwa carefully examined the box the owner had handed him.

“…”

If he bought this, the recipient would surely like it. But he didn’t want to give a toy that might spark interest in the navy.

Yoon Moo-hwa looked at the toy more seriously than when he had to choose minimal weapons during special training.

Then he shook his head. At the end of his shifted gaze was a penguin plush toy.

“Sister? Baby? How old?”

“Thirteen… fourteen. Around that age.”

Assuming it must be a nephew based on the approximate age, the owner nodded.

“Then definitely this. If you give a plush toy to someone that age, you’ll get scolded even after giving it. ‘Uncle! Do you think I’m still a baby who likes these things?!’ they’ll say.”

Yoon Moo-hwa immediately imagined Haero snapping, “I’m not a child anymore!” A smile bloomed on his lips as he pictured this. The officer, anxious about the time and eager to leave, missed seeing this expression.

“This is definitely it. This is the best.”

“…”

“This is even a limited edition. I got it secretly. It has a separate navy mark. Which one do you want? Turtle ship? Sailing ship?”

Yoon Moo-hwa looked at the box, then slowly turned his gaze back to the plush toy.

The officer was now stomping his feet with a tearful expression.

✼✼✼

“Lighten up.” Alyosha patted Yoon Moo-hwa’s shoulder. “It couldn’t be helped. It was an emergency rescue.”

“…I’m not angry.”

“But you seem annoyed?”

Instead of answering, Yoon Moo-hwa stared at the massive passenger ship passing in front of him.

The ship was being salvaged, barely escaping sinking, as it spewed black smoke. Four salvage vessels had rushed to help. The speed was extremely slow. Though there were injuries, there were no fatalities—a very favorable outcome considering the scale of the accident. The company would shed some tears, but isn’t that what insurance companies are for?

The pirate ship that attacked the cruise ship had been captured. The jewels they had stolen were already moved elsewhere and couldn’t be found, but it would be sufficient for backtracking the pirates’ affiliation, which was always the biggest challenge when catching pirates.

Yes. Everything had gone well, but…

Yoon Moo-hwa’s brow furrowed slightly more. Alyosha burst into laughter.

“Hey, Yoon. It’s just a graduation ceremony. One of many graduation ceremonies to come! Is that expression necessary for missing just one?”

“…It’s the first graduation ceremony.”

“What?”

Yoon Moo-hwa turned around irritably and declared, “It’s not ‘just’ a graduation ceremony.”

—I heard the news. That you participated in the cruise ship rescue.

“We need to verify why there was a cruise ship in an unsafe area.”

—That’s because the recently marked green zone has been infiltrated. It’s estimated to have been at that boundary.

“The sea is dangerous. It’s not a place for casual recreation.” Yoon Moo-hwa expressed his opinion bluntly and firmly.

There were no exceptions, even for his father. Even if that father was his superior by a vast margin.

Clearing his throat, Yoon Sang-won changed his tone to a more conciliatory one.

—The schedule has been pushed back a bit, but the operation will be wrapped up just in time, won’t it?

Though he spoke indirectly as if discussing official matters, he was actually referring to a very personal event.

“I hope so.”

—Well… even if you miss it, at least you can still meet and congratulate him. If the timing had been slightly off, you would have had to congratulate him a month later or a month earlier.

“…”

—It’s only the first, not the last, so it’s okay. He’ll understand.

Yoon Moo-hwa didn’t answer.

Afterward, they returned to official matters.

After the call ended, Yoon Moo-hwa went to the smoking area. There, sailors were huddled together in a group, engrossed in looking at something. They were so captivated that they didn’t notice Yoon Moo-hwa approaching.

Yoon Moo-hwa quietly approached and looked down over their heads.

“Wow… this is killer.” 

“Yeah, it’s amazing…”

In the midst of their awestruck exclamations was a music box.

The difference was that it combined a music box with a snow globe; though it looked like a mass-produced item, someone had modified it so that a holographic aurora filled the snow globe.

Even to Yoon Moo-hwa, it looked quite beautiful.

“Who made that?”

The sailors were startled by their superior’s voice suddenly coming from above. They jumped up to salute, but the floor was slippery, and they fumbled about in confusion. Yoon Moo-hwa raised and lowered his hand, indicating they didn’t need to. He didn’t need the salutes he received every day.

“This looks like it’s been modified. Who customized it?”

The sailors glanced at each other before pointing to one person.

A sailor wearing thick glasses nervously raised his hand. With his hands in his pockets, Yoon Moo-hwa stared down at the music box. The sweet melody blended with the sound of breaking waves, almost like the humming of a siren.

“If you were selling this, how much would you charge?” Yoon Moo-hwa asked. 

The bespectacled sailor thought he had misheard and could only respond with a “Pardon?”

✼✼✼

Haero kept looking around.

The driver sent by Yoon Sang-won was attending the graduation ceremony to fill a seat, but he wasn’t the person Haero was waiting for. Even Seon Ikhyeon wasn’t there. It was all due to overlapping operation periods.

At least the graduation ceremony wasn’t completely unattended, but an unfamiliar driver didn’t mean much, and the person he was waiting for hadn’t shown up either. It was essentially like facing graduation alone.

Haero became downcast and hung his head low.

He was wearing new shoes. 

Yoon Moo-hwa had bought and sent them even during the operation. Haero would have preferred Yoon Moo-hwa bringing the gift himself, or even better, just coming empty-handed—much, much, much better. As vast as the sky, as wide as the land, as deep as the sea.

“It’s always like this.” Haero muttered sulkily.

He knew in his head that Yoon Moo-hwa was a very busy person and that the sea wouldn’t let him go. But despite his protests that he wasn’t that young, Haero was objectively young. He was a child. His heart felt disappointed, and children’s hearts are bigger and more delicate than reason. He felt like crying, but as someone about to become a full-grown adult moving on to higher education after graduation, his pride wouldn’t allow it. Haero let out a hot sigh and clenched his fists.

—Therefore, even if rough waves approach in the future, our children should not be afraid…

Predictable words.

He had already heard enough of such talk from Yoon Sang-won.

The time dragged on, unbearably boring for the children, as guests and dignitaries lined up to give speeches. Some kids were nodding off. Perhaps because this was the largest graduating class in the history of Sector 1 Elementary Comprehensive School, there were also people from the press bustling about.

Haero looked around at the crowd and, after careful consideration, made a decision. He quietly stood up, bent low, and tiptoed out, then rushed through the door.