The Devil Judge [BL Version]

Chapter 8: The Explosion

Ga-On's steps were hushed as he entered Yo Han's dimly lit office, a sense of urgency and curiosity mingling within him. He had a purpose in mind – to retrieve the listening device that he had planted earlier. However, as he looked around, his heart skipped a beat. The device was nowhere to be found.

Just as his confusion and surprise began to register, a voice cut through the silence, sending shivers down his spine. "Are you looking for this?" The words were calm, yet they held an unmistakable air of authority. Ga-On's eyes widened as he turned to find Yo Han standing in the shadows, holding the very device he had been searching for.

Caught off guard and bathed in the dim light, Ga-On found himself facing Yo Han, his heart pounding in his chest. The situation felt surreal, a clash between intentions and unexpected outcomes. The listening device was now in Yo Han's possession, a testament to his perceptiveness.

As Yo Han extended the device toward him, Ga-On's fingers closed around it hesitantly. The exchange was wordless, yet it carried an unspoken tension that hung in the air like a fragile thread. Ga-On's mind raced to make sense of the situation, the questions swirling within him demanding answers.

"Why are you doing this?" Ga-On's voice trembled slightly as he voiced his confusion. The uncertainty of the moment weighed heavily on him, his eyes locked onto Yo Han's enigmatic gaze.

Yo Han's response was as cryptic as ever, delivered with an air of confidence that bordered on arrogance. "Because I can. Possibility is like a drug." The words hung in the air, their implications echoing in the quiet space between them.

Ga-On's brows furrowed as he grappled with the implications of Yo Han's answer. It was a revelation that left him both intrigued and unnerved. The idea of possibility being a driving force resonated deeply, a glimpse into the mindset of a man who seemed to thrive on complexity and uncertainty.

The weight of their words and the unspoken secrets seemed to fill the room, creating an atmosphere fraught with uncertainty. Yet, before either of them could further unravel the enigma that bound them, a sudden beeping sound shattered the silence.

The beeping was jarring, an intrusion that cut through the stillness with an urgency that demanded attention. Instinct kicked in, and both Ga-On and Yo Han turned their heads toward the source of the sound—the painting that hung on the wall behind them.

Without hesitation, Ga-On's reflexes kicked into gear. In an instant, he reacted, shoving Yo Han out of the way with a forceful movement that sent them both tumbling to the ground. The action was swift, a split-second decision driven by a primal instinct to protect. Ga-On's body collided with Yo Han's, their forms intertwined in a chaotic dance as they fell.

The deafening roar of the explosion shattered the tranquility of Kang Yo-Han's office. They were thrown off his feet by the force of the blast, debris swirling around him like a malevolent storm. As the dust settled, his vision cleared, revealing the unimaginable scene before him.

There, amidst the chaos, lay Ga-on. Unconscious, battered, a harsh contrast to the vibrant man he had always known. Kang Yo-Han's heart seemed to stop as he called out to him, his voice strained and desperate, "Ga-on! Ga-on, wake up!"

He rushed to Ga-on's side, hands trembling as he cradled his motionless form. The memories flashed before him—laughter, arguments, shared moments of vulnerability—and a pain unlike any other gripped his chest. He shook Ga-on gently, his voice cracking with raw emotion, "Please, Ga-on, wake up. You can't leave me."

The weight of the situation bore down on him, the fear of losing Ga-on cutting deeper than any physical wound ever could. With his mind a whirlwind of memories and emotions, he gathered Ga-on into his arms and staggered out of the devastated office.

His villa, nestled far from the city's chaos, became their sanctuary. The trusted doctors he had at his disposal were summoned immediately, their skill and dedication focused on saving Ga-on's life. Hours passed like an agonizing eternity, Kang Yo-Han pacing restlessly outside the room where Ga-on was being treated.

Finally, the door opened, and the lead doctor emerged. Kang Yo-Han's heart leaped in his chest, his gaze locking onto the doctor's face, seeking answers. "How is he? Is he going to be alright?"

The doctor's expression softened, a mix of professionalism and empathy. "He's stable now. He's out of danger."

Relief flooded through Kang Yo-Han's veins, a weight he hadn't realized he was carrying lifting from his shoulders. He sank into a nearby chair, his hands trembling as he covered his face with them. The reality of how close he had come to losing Ga-on was overwhelming, the emotions he had kept in check threatening to spill over.

As Kang Yo-Han rushed into the room, his heart felt both heavy and light. Ga-on's well-being was a beacon of hope, a reason to fight against the darkness that had threatened to consume them. As he stood by Ga-on's side, he vowed silently, his determination unwavering: he would find those responsible for the explosion, no matter what it took.

Amidst the flood of emotions, a voice broke through the haze, dispassionate and utterly unaffected by the gravity of the situation. A young girl in a motorized wheelchair rolled by, her gaze fixated on the doctor. "Is he dead?"

The bluntness of the question caught Kang Yo-Han off guard, a mix of shock and irritation flitting across his features. The doctor, however, remained composed. "No, he's not. He's going to be fine."

The girl's response was a nonchalant declaration, "Well, this situation is no fun then." With that, she turned her motorized wheelchair and drove away, leaving Kang Yo-Han in bemusement.

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