GB 66

“Yes. I’ve heard many rumors.”

Haero’s heart started pounding. The sea remained calm, as if pretending not to know about the evening’s impending storm.

“They praise you as a very skilled and brave medical officer.”

“…”

“Given that this ship sees frequent combat, there are many injuries, and ships are places where it’s easy to get hurt even without battles, so I’m counting on you.”

He acted as if he didn’t remember Haero at all. To think he was just giving ordinary words of encouragement as if addressing a new subordinate!

Haero clenched his fist tightly.

Yoon Moo-hwa was already turning away, as if his business was done.

The wind was still quiet, but the waves were starting to stir. As if just waking up and stretching, preparing for the storm.

“Hyung.” Haero called out to Yoon Moo-hwa.

With that one word, that one call, Yoon Moo-hwa stopped in his tracks.

If it were insubordination, he should be scolded and punished. But if he stopped for a different reason…

“I haven’t forgotten anything. I didn’t meet you to pretend nothing happened.”

“…”

Yoon Moo-hwa’s body, gripping the railing, began to sway. The same was true for Haero. The sea was starting to move.

But Yoon Moo-hwa wasn’t one to lose balance from such mild waves. This place was like home to him, just as it was for Haero.

Haero smiled quietly. “Hyung, you remember everything too, don’t you?”

The wind blew and the outer deck was quiet. The humming engine sounded like a whale’s groan.

Yoon Moo-hwa swayed back and forth.

It wasn’t the waves making him sway.

‘It would be me shaking him. That’s why I came back to him.’

Haero stretched out his hand, as if grasping the water current.

* * *

It was Yoon Moo-hwa who taught Haero poker. Unlike mahjong, which required four people, poker could be played with just two.

“How do you guess what cards other people have?”

“You just bet. If you meet someone who’s really good at hiding their expressions, you have to trust yourself rather than their face.”

Haero always lost to Yoon Moo-hwa. He was always fooled by him. Even when others like Seon Ik-hyun occasionally joined the game, the result was the same. Yoon Moo-hwa’s poker face was perfect.

“What if my hand is terrible?”

“You have to hide that too.” Yoon Moo-hwa smiled softly as he shuffled the cards. “You pretend. Even if you’re holding an ice cream stick, you make it look like you’re gripping a knife handle to others. You hide it, Haero.”

He whispered as if revealing a great secret, and Haero shrugged his shoulders, feeling ticklish on the nape of his neck from Yoon Moo-hwa’s unique scent and low voice as he leaned towards him.

“What are you planning to do with this?”

He met with Tan Shui occasionally. It was Haero who contacted him first.

“I need money urgently.”

Haero only started truly ‘earning his keep’ after completely leaving Yoon Moo-hwa’s domain. He realized that while he could always be comfortable and safe under his shadow, he would remain immature forever.

No, in fact, he had known this very early on. Since the time he was Number 8, he had firmly ingrained in his mind that he needed to pull his own weight.

Yet he didn’t leave, even though he knew better. He stayed in Yoon Moo-hwa’s domain because he believed that was the only way to be with him.

“You’re lying. If you really needed money, you’d have done something else. You could’ve worked on a fishing boat or a merchant ship.”

Tan Shui, wearing only pants, leaned against the doorframe and grinned. It was late at night. This was the only time they could meet due to their busy schedules.

Haero stared at Tan Shui as he stuffed the paper into his pocket.

Tan Shui smiled smugly, as if he had the upper hand.

‘It’s up to me to decide whether what you’re holding is an ice cream stick or a knife handle.’ 

Haero had learned poker from Yoon Moo-hwa, who was the best poker player and gambler he knew. Tan Shui’s bluff was nothing. While he couldn’t beat Yoon Moo-hwa, he was confident he wouldn’t lose to anyone else.

“It can’t be just for money. What are you planning to do by meeting that man?”

What Haero had received from Tan Shui was an introduction letter. Obtained through great effort.

“I don’t need to explain my reasons.”

“There are strange rumors about you.”

Tan Shui’s gaze become meaningful.”Surely those rumors aren’t true?”

Haero could easily guess what rumors he meant. The rumors surrounding him were always damp and gloomy, trying to provoke him somehow.

Haero sneered. “It’s not the first time there’ve been nonsense rumors about me.”

“I’m just worried, Haero. What exactly are you trying to do?”

Even if it looks like I’m holding a knife handle, in reality, it’s as if I’m holding an ice cream stick.

Instead of answering, Haero waved to Tan Shui.

“Contact me if you need any more errands run. I’ll get you anything.”

“Anything… You shouldn’t say such things carelessly.”

The paper rustled in his pocket.

“I say that because I know you won’t ask me to do anything too outrageous.”

Even a little trust can make people feel important. Especially Tan Shui.

Haero knew that the pants he was wearing were part of a cadet uniform. He must have deliberately worn them to greet him. Probably to show off that while Haero had left, he was still thriving here. Given that it was the second day of leave, it was certain.

“When I get on the ship, I’ll be in your care.” Haero stepped back with a strange smile. 

Tan Shui, mulling over the words, suddenly understood their meaning and his face lit up with surprise and bewilderment. “How on earth are you going to get on a ship?!”

‘You’ll see soon enough.’

Haero bypassed the elevator and clomped down the stairs, taking out and unfolding the paper from his pocket.

It was about a professor, formerly a respected military doctor in the navy. Naturally, he would have considerable influence. Haero knew that some people could exert influence within the navy even after retiring. Even if it was just a tiny influence, that speck of wind could move sails and change a ship’s direction.

“I’ll be in your care, professor.”

This person would now become Haero’s wind.

Haero looked at the paper glowing yellow under the light at the end of his outstretched arm, his face and eyes shining.

Behind Yoon Moo-hwa was seawater that looked like that yellow light from back then.

It was a yellow wave shimmering in the sunlight.

An announcement rang out, requesting the captain to come to the bridge.

“Hyung, do you remember the ice cream stick?”

The brisk footsteps suddenly stopped.

Haero felt like his whole body might float away with excitement.

A moment of silence passed. The brief moment felt like an eternity.

Finally, Yoon Moo-hwa spoke. It was the answer Haero had been longing for. His voice was low and subdued, “Are you trying to threaten me by claiming you’re holding a knife handle instead of an ice cream stick, Lieutenant?”

Haero’s eyes shone as brightly as possible.

‘See? I told you he remembers.’

Haero gripped the railing, and as if in response, the waves surged up and then subsided.

“What’s the matter?” Yoon Moo-hwa, who had entered the bridge, seemed to be in a bad mood.

His superior rarely showed emotions. Both the communications officer and the executive officer looked flustered at his unusually gloomy appearance.

“I asked what’s the matter.”

“Ah… We’ve shared the swim call schedule you mentioned. Once you decide on our ship’s anchoring position, we’ll proceed with the fleet swim call within a distance that prevents collisions and current generation.”

Yoon Moo-hwa’s ship also served as the flagship of the fleet. A swim call was an opportunity to let the sailors swim and stretch their bodies while the ships were stopped.

Yoon Moo-hwa nodded, exhaling through his nose at this trivial information. Then he pointed to an area on the sea chart displayed on the screen. “240 degrees starboard, distance 750 yards.”

The helmsman inputted the direction and began automatic navigation of the flagship.

While the population had decreased, the importance of ships requiring large crews had increased to levels reminiscent of the Age of Exploration. Many ships had been automated or were in the process of automation. However, this was only possible in safe waters. From the moment of entering alert zones, real-time responses were far more effective than automated defense systems.

As such, both automatic navigation and swim calls could be considered the last moments of leisure before entering the gray abyss.

Amidst the repetitive schedule since departure, just as everyone was about to become completely relaxed and lazy, a sense of vitality began to stir among the crew.

Talk of the swim call would slowly spread to every corner of the ship. Naturally, as the atmosphere became excited, Yoon Moo-hwa pressed his thumb hard against the bridge of his nose.

The executive officer, who had been with him for quite some time, asked, “Are you tired, sir?”

“Why? Do I look tired?”

When he asked back listlessly, the executive officer nodded, “You definitely seem more sensitive than usual. Everyone must have noticed.”

Although not of a mild-mannered or sociable nature, perhaps because of that, he was a much easier and more compatible partner to work with. 

Yoon Moo-hwa lightly grasped his shoulder in response to the honest answer and left the bridge. “Call me immediately if anything comes up.”