Chapter 48 : Intermission – Drunken Truth

It was around the time a bombing attack occurred in the Alcyone Federation.

A completely ordinary Saturday night with no schedule or plans.

Kalia and Ishmael shared a modest drink together, just the two of them.

“Cheers! To the downfall of oppressors!”

“Cheers!”

Clink!

Whether you’d call it childish or bizarre, it was certainly a toast far from ordinary.

Shouting out the motto and ideology of the organization they belonged to, the two clinked their glasses together.

The dark red wine in the glasses mixed and shimmered vividly under the light.

“The aroma is smooth, and the color’s beautiful too. I bet this must’ve been pretty expensive.”

“It’s fine—it was free. I stole it from the Academy Director’s office.”

“…You didn’t get caught?”

“Don’t underestimate me. If I wanted to, I could sneak into the royal palace any time.”

Though the party was small in number, the menu was surprisingly lavish.

Wine snatched from the private cellar of some bigwig, thick grilled steak, scallop carpaccio, Caprese salad, and more.

A perfect lineup for both a fine meal and drinking snacks.

“Go ahead and try it. Beef tastes best when it’s still warm.”

And, surprisingly, all of it had been prepared by Kalia herself.

In times like these, with sky-high prices, she had gone out shopping herself and cooked everything by hand.

A heartfelt feast made just for two people in the whole world.

The first, naturally, was herself.

The second—was none other than the person sitting across from her.

“Oh, not bad. Grilled medium, just the right tenderness. The sauce pairs well too.”

“I made it myself. I used veal bone broth and plenty of herbs, so the flavor should be rich.”

“It really is. I only dipped it slightly, and yet the aroma fills my whole mouth.”

As fancy as the menu was, just as much effort had gone into it.

Gathering ingredients with varying characteristics and cooking each in a suitable way was no simple task.

Even a restaurant chef wouldn’t be able to handle it alone.

But Kalia pulled it off.

Because she wanted to.

“I hope it suits your taste.”

“It’s amazing. I can’t remember the last time I had something this delicious. It’s even better than the stew we had together last time.”

“…That’s a relief. Makes the effort worth it.”

So what if cooking it had been a bit of a struggle?

The other person was this happy.

He was her most important comrade, someone she cherished—and someone she had feelings for.

How could she hold back on effort and care?

Even the finger she’d cut while slicing cheese or aging the meat didn’t hurt anymore when she saw Ishmael’s joyful expression.

She felt a sense of relief, too—seeing that man, who always pushed himself so hard, finally relax a little.

“Eat as much as you like. There’s still plenty left.”

“Then I won’t hold back.”

The two busily moved their wine glasses and forks.

A sip of wine, a bite of steak, a mouthful of tomato and cheese.

They fed each other, wiped sauce from each other’s lips with napkins, and shared an intimate moment.

Both had hearty appetites, so even with all the food prepared, the plates and wine bottles were quickly emptied.

“Huh, we’ve already gone through three bottles.”

“I think we might’ve overdone it. Maybe we should stop drinking now.”

“It’s fine. This is nothing.”

Let’s pause for a moment.

Wine has a much higher alcohol content than beer or soju.

What happens when you keep downing drinks like that?

It’s simple. 

As the body starts breaking down the alcohol, intoxication kicks in fast.

“Hey, Kalia.”

“Yes?”

Alcohol—regardless of era—has a way of breaking down a person’s inhibitions and sense of restraint.

Even if you’re not totally wasted, it dulls your reason and clouds your usual judgment.

In other words, things you wouldn’t normally say come out much more easily.

“Why are you being so nice to me these days? You kept such a wall up when we first met.”

Ishmael asked, halfway through finishing his drink, his face flushed red.

His voice was unmistakably drunk.

“You always smile when we greet each other, we sleep under the same blanket, you cook meals for me every day… Isn’t that pretty much what married couples do?”

“…”

“I appreciate how well you treat me, really. But I just want to know—why are you doing all this?”

At work, at their lodgings—she was always by his side, taking care of everything.

From the moment he woke up to the moment he went to sleep, she looked after him without a single complaint.

Even real blood relatives wouldn’t treat each other like this.

Why on earth would she show such kindness to someone not even of the same race? 

Especially when she had been so strictly professional at first. 

He was grateful, of course, but the question carried a tone of genuine confusion. 

Kalia didn’t answer. 

She simply tended to the drunken man.

“Is it because you like me or something?”

“…You’re too drunk. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

“Aw, at least give me an answer…”

Only after Ishmael completely passed out from the alcohol did she softly voice her true feelings. 

Her expression, though still composed, clearly showed she wasn’t entirely sober either.

“Of course I do this because I love you. You fool.”

Was he just that oblivious?

Or did he realize it but pretend not to?

Even though she expressed her feelings so blatantly at every turn, he was still asking why she did all this.

It made her sigh with frustration—though she couldn’t say she hated that part of him. 

She’d known he was like this from the start.

“Who would do all this for someone they didn’t love?”

She brushed back her tousled hair, lifted the unconscious man, and gently laid him on the bed. 

Her fingers grazed his face with all the care in the world.

Like one would treat a precious jewel—softly, lovingly.

As if he were the most valuable treasure in the world.

“…Then again, maybe I’m in no place to call someone else a fool. How did I end up falling for a guy like this?”

Kalia let out a bitter chuckle.

She definitely hadn’t been like this at the beginning. 

She’d changed a lot.

“It’s already been over a year.”

*****

She still remembered it vividly.

The day she first met Ishmael.

“Hey, some beggar-looking guy just wandered in.”

“A beggar?”

“Yeah. But he talks kinda funny, so I figured I’d keep an eye on him for a bit. You take care of the surveillance.”

“…Understood, Branch Director.”

A stranger who had slipped into their secret hideout.

She’d been assigned to manage and monitor him.

And just like the cold, formal way they met, their interactions were just as stiff and impersonal.

“My name is Kang Cheonsu. I look forward to working with you for the time being.”

“Just call me Kalia.”

For about two months, that’s all their relationship was.

Purely business, with not a hint of personal exchange.

Ishmael, who spouted strange knowledge and predictions about political affairs, wasn’t exactly a warm or friendly person.

He was skilled, competent—but his identity and intentions were completely unknown. 

A potential threat.

She even considered eliminating him if it seemed like he couldn’t be controlled, for the safety of the organization.

That dangerous and uneasy relationship ended…Due to the most unexpected of circumstances.

“Mr. Ishmael, are you in he—”

“Mom… I miss my mom… Why do I have to live like this? Why can’t I go home…?”

Ishmael, drunk from early evening, sobbed as he babbled on.

Unlike usual, his voice was fragile, and his entire demeanor looked like he might crumble at any moment.

He probably didn’t remember it himself, but Kalia had seen it clearly.

She had seen him, overwhelmed with longing, crying as he resented the world, resented the goddess.

“You were… another me, weren’t you.”

That’s when Kalia realized it.

That this man was in the same situation as her all along.

A fragile soul who had lost both his family and his place to lean on, wasting his life in anger and emptiness.

The strong wall of caution she had built up collapsed in an instant.

What replaced the emptiness was relief, a little fondness, and a deep sense of kinship.

If asked why or how that eventually turned into love… honestly, she couldn’t properly explain it.

She didn’t know the reason or motivation behind her own change.

“Still, I don’t really mind.”

But what did it matter?

Human emotions were never driven by rational logic to begin with.

Humans are creatures who make fan clubs for attractive criminals, so what’s so strange about falling for someone you’ve worked with for over a year?

Of course, Ishmael wasn’t what you’d call conventionally handsome.

At best, he looked neat and well-kept.

His race and skin color were completely different from hers.

But to Kalia, he was the most attractive man in the world.

Both outside, and in.

“Mr. Ishmael—no, Ishmael.”

She held onto him as he breathed heavily, and leaned close to whisper in his ear.

He probably couldn’t hear her.

But she still wanted to make this declaration with her own mouth, loud and clear.

“You’re mine. You’re the one who seduced me first, so don’t even think about pulling back now.”

It was Ishmael who first indirectly courted her—coming up with grand plans for founding a demon nation.

So she would answer his heart in kind.

With everything—her body and soul.

“You know, demons are usually way more obsessive over their partners than humans. They’re terrified of having their loved ones stolen by someone else.”

She lightly licked his ear, and delivered her words like a sincere warning.

“So you’d better be the same. I’m never letting you go. From the wedding altar to the grave, I’ll be by your side. The only woman beside you from now on will be me—no one else.”

He should’ve been asleep, yet somehow, Ishmael’s body trembled faintly.