GB 61

It’s another new year.

For Yoon Moo-hwa, it was the same old new year, with nothing particularly noteworthy except for the fact that somehow, the civilization of this generation was still continuing.

The conversations at gatherings were all the same old tiresome topics.

Despite early marriage or partnerships becoming commonplace, he was surely past the prime marriage age, yet he was still tired of people trying to set him up with their sons and daughters, asking if he wouldn’t like to meet them.

In recent years, the number of attempts to set him up with sons had been notably higher.

This was probably due to the once rampant gossip that had now subsided. The scandalous rumor about Colonel Yoon Moo-hwa’s supposed 12-year-younger lover, who was actually claimed to be his younger sibling.

Although the article was quickly taken down when the magazine company faced the threat of closure due to legal battles, the rumors persisted for a long time, stubbornly lingering like mold.

The most ironic part was that some aspects of those mold-like nonsensical rumors had actually become true.

How upset would the magazine company be if they found out? If they learned that those two bastards had indeed ended up together, the CEO might grab them by the scruff of their necks.

Moreover, if everyone looked at it closely, it was as if that 12-year-younger kid had raped his guardian.

Even now, Yoon Moo-hwa sometimes recalls the sound of those wet footsteps from back then.

He had gritted his teeth and endured, trying not to get up until the damp, limping footsteps disappeared.

Letting go was the right thing to do for Haero. It was for that child’s sake. Wasn’t it his responsibility for pushing things this far?

However, after hearing the front door open and close, he couldn’t hold back anymore.

Yoon Moo-hwa cut the rope with a knife without even turning his hand.

As he got up, he grabbed the paper that had fallen from his face. He stared at the crumpled adoption application form for a long time before gritting his teeth and standing up.

It was what his father had passed on to him. Yoon Sang-won had assured him that this would resolve any issues with Haero’s background, and Yoon Moo-hwa had asked if it wasn’t actually meant to suppress the rumors about himself.

Either way, Haero’s wishes were not considered.

This was Haero’s answer to the selfish discussion that excluded him.

Yoon Moo-hwa crumpled the paper, tore it to shreds, and threw it in the trash can. When he came out, the wet footprints scattered around the living room ultimately led to the front door. 

What had he done when he saw his own dick covered in blood?

What did he do…

“Brigadier General!”

Someone thrust their face into Yoon Moo-hwa’s blurred vision as he was lost in memories.

It wasn’t the kind of presence that could be hidden by trying to hide invisibly next to a pillar.

Yoon Moo-hwa smiled sociably at the person who brightened up upon seeing him.

It was someone who had served as a naval medical officer for life and retired as a colonel. The years that had passed were evident in his white hair.

“I should have congratulated you right when you were promoted to Brigadier General, but I’m late, aren’t I?”

“It’s alright.”

Since the glaciers melted, the whole world had been in a constant state of near-war. Commanders were always valuable and in short supply, and there were even more opportunities to earn merits. It wasn’t necessarily a good thing, but promotions were incomparably faster than in peacetime. 

Yoon Moo-hwa, who had earned merits by controlling the seas as if his life consisted solely of operations for the past few years, was now a Brigadier General.

“My goodness, you’re already thirty-six, aren’t you?”

“That’s correct.” Having known him since he was very young due to connections with his father, Yoon Moo-hwa responded politely.

“You still don’t have a partner? No, I understand. There must be more than just one or two people eyeing the Brigadier General.”

“I don’t think I’d be a particularly good spouse.” Yoon Moo-hwa chuckled.

As an unmarried, handsome man and a respected war hero, Yoon Moo-hwa was still at the center of gossip.

In fact, for two years since his 12-year-younger ward disappeared, there were even bizarre rumors that Yoon Moo-hwa had secretly married that child, and that he loved and was so obsessed with his spouse that he wouldn’t let them leave the house.

When Yoon Moo-hwa heard this rumor, he scoffed. “As if I could confine that child?”

At that time, Yoon Moo-hwa was drunk.

He often got drunk. He deliberately filled himself with alcohol to the brim. As if doing so would somehow recreate certain events.

After getting drunk, it was always the same routine, as if programmed. He would do secret things he couldn’t tell anyone about. His room had long since become Bluebeard’s room. Ever since Haero left.

“Whether you’re a good spouse or not is for the parties involved to judge. Anyway, are you doing well these days?”

“If you’re talking about life on the ship, I’m not sure. Recently, the medical officer left the ship. We’re short on medical officers while the number of injured increases. It’s troublesome. I’ve put in a request for top priority placement, though.”

Yoon Moo-hwa became a captain upon his promotion to Brigadier General. His ship served as the flagship of the fleet. As the ship grew larger, naturally, the area of operations expanded. It wasn’t limited to just the Pacific Ocean, but reached as far as the Indian Ocean. However, once they set sail, they would be out for half a year at a time, and since parts of the Indian Ocean and Southern Ocean were included, which were considered beyond near-war state and potentially entering a state of war, managing the health of the crew was extremely important. But despite the importance and difficulty of the job, due to its low popularity among medical officers, it was uncertain whether the position would be filled immediately even with a top priority placement request.

“If it doesn’t work out, you might have to board our ship yourself.”

“Oh my, I’ve just managed to put down roots on land, and you want me to get back on a ship? Don’t even joke about it.”

Shaking his head at the casually made suggestion, he was now walking the path of an educator training medical officers. Yoon Moo-hwa turned the conversation in that direction, intending to ask if he could let him know in advance if there were any good candidates.

As he did so, someone caught his eye.

Yoon Moo-hwa’s face and body froze at the passing figure.

The sounds in his ears all faded away.

“… anyway, they’re very competent and fearless. They don’t even flinch at the sight of blood-“

“I’m sorry. Excuse me for a moment.” Interrupting politely but urgently, Yoon Moo-hwa pushed through the crowd to confirm what he had seen.

If he hadn’t been wearing his eye patch, he could have easily rewound and zoomed in on the visual feed to check, but on the ground, he usually wore the eye patch. The discomfort people felt from artificial body parts was unavoidable, and eyes that had to be faced directly were especially problematic.

In the end, Yoon Moo-hwa took off his eye patch. He could feel the startled glances from those around him.

“Excuse me. I need to pass through.”

At the end of the hallway, he saw a man with cream-colored hair that curled like sunbeams entering a room. He wasn’t alone. Next to him was a taller man, who had his arm around his shoulder, ushering him inside. Yoon Moo-hwa’s pace quickened. Just as the door was about to lock shut, Yoon Moo-hwa pressed down on the doorknob and intruded into the room.

“W-what the!”

The two men who had just started kissing passionately turned around in great surprise towards Yoon Moo-hwa.

No, it was one man and one woman. The cream-colored hair belonged to a woman. Moreover, upon closer inspection, it wasn’t even sunbeams. It was just the reflection of the lighting.

Yoon Moo-hwa stepped back, frowning, then returned to his usual self and calmly apologized. “I seem to have mistaken you for someone else. I apologize for the intrusion.”

Leaving behind the bewildered couple, he exited the room.

He was just as bewildered as himself.

Letting out a mirthless laugh, he ran his hand through his hair, then clicked his tongue at the sight of the crumpled eye patch in his hand.

Instead of covering his eye, he stuffed it into his pocket and headed for the terrace. Having set his eyes to be particularly sensitive to heat and light reactions, Yoon Moo-hwa detected the drones even before they formed their formation.

So, it’s another new year.

Yoon Moo-hwa leaned against the terrace railing, rummaged through his pocket, and put a cigarette in his mouth. As he exhaled the electronic cigarette vapor, he listened without emotion to the countdown erupting in cheerful voices from inside.

“I don’t even need to come every year anymore.”

Even though he didn’t like this sort of thing, he came every year. When the invitation arrived, he would leave the partner section blank and send a reply anyway. It was ridiculous.

“You’re acting all pathetic like someone who’s been dumped. I told you to straighten up your attitude. That’s not respectful to Haero either. Do I have to spell everything out for you?”

Was it at the housewarming party of Gu Yejin and Seon Ikhyun, who had formed a partnership three years ago? As the night deepened and the conversation intensified, emotions ran high, and he ended up hearing this criticism.

He thought the criticism was unfair. He wasn’t acting pathetically. He was just living as he always had. He attended parties as usual, watched drone shows, and counted down. Nothing had changed. Only one person was missing from his side.

Yes. It wasn’t like any other new year. Not at all…

“…2, 1!”

Finally, the countdown ended, and it was a new year once again.

“Somehow we’ve managed to meet again without going extinct.”

Someone whose face and name he didn’t know greeted him from the side. Yoon Moo-hwa responded with a casual smile and exhaled a long stream of smoke. His artificial eye calculated the total number of drones, including those that were turned off. Simultaneously, a notification popped up that the crew list had been updated.

Yoon Moo-hwa postponed the notification with a bored expression.

There was no need to check it right away.

It had just become the new year, after all.

“What are you doing? Aren’t you coming?”

At that moment, a middle-aged man playing with his car keys below the terrace called out to his companion.

“Hey, what are you doing?” His companion was looking up at the sky. “What’s so great about that drone show they do every year?”

Clicking his tongue and striding over to drag his companion away, he belatedly realized.

His companion wasn’t looking at the sky, but at the terrace. 

Tilting his head, he grabbed his companion’s shoulder and asked, “Do you know someone up there?”

“Yes.”

“Who?” Frustrated by the lack of response, he checked his wristwatch and urged roughly, “Who is it? If you’re not going to say hello, let’s go.”

“……”

“Huh? Or not for today. Should I go alone?”

At those words, the one being urged slowly turned his head.

The drones dimmed their lights once more before bursting into brightness.

In that moment, the facial features of the companion, hidden in the darkness, were revealed.

“Hey! Let’s go already.”

What was revealed was the grown face of Haero.

A wind similar to that day blew. Even the salt-tinged droplets splashing on his cheeks. For Haero, it was a new year like any other. Facing the same drones from the same place.