The two entered Matías's hotel room.
His bodyguards, who had accompanied him, stayed outside, keeping watch.
Humming to himself, Matías walked over to the minibar, picked up two bottles of the various alcoholic drinks on display, and looked at Kwon Taekjoo.
"Wine or whiskey?"
Without answering, Kwon Taekjoo moved to the window, positioning himself with his back against it so he could scan the outside.
After confirming there were no watchers, he started checking the room for security cameras or listening devices.
Even on the way to the hotel, he hadn't let his guard down for a moment.
Was that some kind of occupational hazard?
"Let's go with both."
Matías shrugged, placing both the wine and whiskey on the table.
Kwon Taekjoo inspected the two bathrooms as well before returning to the main room.
Still, he didn't sit on the couch right away.
Trying to ease the tension, Matías took a gun from his pocket.
He set it on the table with the handle facing the middle, making it accessible to either of them.
Kwon Taekjoo followed suit, placing his Glock down beside it before taking a seat across from him.
To the untrained eye, his gun might look like an old model with poor accuracy.
"How are you even still alive with that junk?"
Matías teased.
"It might be junk to some, but not to everyone."
Despite Matías's joke, Kwon Taekjoo didn't budge.
Instead, he stretched out his legs, crossed
his arms, and kept his head held high as he stared at Matías.
Matías grinned slyly as he poured the whiskey.
"I noticed it last time, but, you know, you've got an enormous amount of confidence."
"Takes a lot of confidence to bring down someone like you."
"That line sounded a bit… suggestive, don't you think?"
Matías said with a playful glint in his eye. But Kwon Taekjoo didn't even crack a smile.
Matías wondered how he could make this stone-cold expression finally break.
With a smirk, Matías poured a drink and handed it to Kwon Taekjoo.
"Come on, you must be thirsty. Have a sip."
"…"
"Wow, you're really suspicious, huh?Alright, I'll start."
Matías emptied his whiskey glass and then shook both empty glasses in his hands.
Kwon Taekjoo poured his own drink, taking a sip while still eyeing Matías from head to toe.
He was sizing him up, noting the flawlessly tailored suit, the slightly excessive accessories, and his laid-back manner.
Had he been in an environment like this before?
Even without his memories, his tastes and principles wouldn't just change overnight.
"Still being chased?"
Matías asked meaningfully after a moment of silence. Kwon Taekjoo tilted his head, puzzled.
"Again?"
"Yeah. The first time we met, you were being chased, too."
"By who?"
"Well, broadly speaking, the Cuban government."
Kwon Taekjoo gave a dry laugh.
Now he was apparently wanted in Cuba, on top of Russia and Iran?
Had he actually been some kind of international terrorist?
Could he really be so far removed from extremist groups like ISIS?
And if he went back to Korea, was there even a place waiting for him?
His mind was swirling with questions.
Matías observed Kwon Taekjoo closely.
From their first encounter in the marketplace, he had sensed something was off, and now he was certain something had changed.
Still, he kept his face neutral, continuing the conversation casually, as he asked about Zhenya.
"By the way, what brings you here? I don't see 'Psych' around. Didn't he come with
you this time?"
"Psych" was a Russian word meaning "crazy." From the way they spoke, it seemed Matías and Kwon Taekjoo both knew this person, but Kwon Taekjoo had no idea who he was talking about.
"Who's that?"
"What? Did you eat something strange?"
"Who is he?"
"Do you seriously not know? We met through Psych. Or, to be exact, you followed my deal with Psych."
"Was I friends with this guy?"
"I have no idea. I don't know what your motives were in dealing with Psych."
Matías made a face, tracing an invisible line in the air.
Overwhelmed by this sudden influx of
information, Kwon Taekjoo tried to remember 'Psych.'
"Psych… Psych…"
For some reason, his heart pounded faster.
It felt like he had forgotten something massively important.
Suddenly, it was as if all the blood in his body had turned cold.
"There's one thing you need to keep in mind—Psych Bogdanov."
"Psych Bogdanov?"
"In Russia, he's like a 'nuclear' guy. So, stay out of his way. If you ever cross paths with him, don't try to take him on."
Soon, a memory managed to break through the thick wall of his mind.
Although he couldn't remember who had warned him about "Psych" or the context in which he'd received the warning, the feeling of that moment was vivid.
His heart began to pound, and his fingers felt strangely numb.
"That person is, strictly speaking, a government official. He's an expert in the arms industry. He's quite skilled, and in the underworld of arms dealing, there isn't anyone who doesn't know him."
Clearly, he'd been warned to stay away from "Psych." Yet he couldn't understand why he had been involved with him in the first place.
"Ugh..."
Once again, the pressure in his head mounted.
He felt a throbbing pain and a warmth
emanating from the wound on his head.
"Hey, are you okay?"
Matías reached out a hand.
Despite the nausea overwhelming him, he brushed Matías's hand away.
Matías sighed, shaking his reddened hand before sitting back slowly, palms open as if
to show he meant no harm.
Then he pulled out a handkerchief, wrapped a few ice cubes in it, and offered it to Kwon Taekjoo.
Kwon Taekjoo accepted the ice reluctantly, pressing it against the throbbing wound on his head.
He leaned back on the sofa, taking deep breaths as the discomfort in his throat began to ease.
Matías watched him in surprise and, in a gentle tone, asked carefully:
"What happened?"
Kwon Taekjoo didn't respond.
Matías, not giving up, asked again in a tone that could dissolve any remaining suspicion:
"Where did you come from?"
"When I came to, I was in Tehran."
Kwon Taekjoo replied, his tone less certain.
He knew Matías was aware of the recent terrorist attack in Tehran.
The news had shaken the region, raising tensions in Turkey and freezing international politics just before a crucial summit between Iran, Russia, and Turkey.
But Kwon Taekjoo had been on the scene.
What had happened to him?
Questions continued to swarm in Matías's mind.
"Don't you know why you were there?"
Kwon Taekjoo nodded silently.
Seeing his wounds and knowing he had been at the site of the attack gave Matías reasons to speculate:
Was he involved in the attack, or had he just been in the wrong place at the wrong time?
As Matías weighed these possibilities, Kwon Taekjoo began to speak, his gaze growing uneasy and hesitant, as if he were about to reveal something important.
"Do you know anything about 'Anastasia'?"
Matías raised an eyebrow at the mention of "Anastasia" and nodded slowly, though his
expression remained unreadable.
"Anastasia? Are you talking about a person or something else?"
Kwon Taekjoo nodded affirmatively, waiting for Matías to clarify.
Matías, unsure if the question referred to a person or another matter, began rubbing his brow, looking puzzled.
"I'm not sure if you're referring to a person or something else."
Matías's comment seemed more like a personal reflection than a direct answer.
Kwon Taekjoo looked uncomfortable, as though he had let slip something he would have preferred to keep hidden.
After a moment of thought, Matías leaned forward, a resolute expression on his face, and clapped his hands lightly as if he'd made up his mind on how to proceed.
"Well, I don't know exactly what's going on either, but first things first—let's take care
of your injuries. And while we're at it, we can see if there's an issue with your memory. Sound good? Let's get you to the hospital for a check-up. Then I can figure out how to help you."
"Help me? Why you?"
"Even though we're not close, I can't ignore this. Leaving someone in trouble is for the
heartless."
Matías gave an exasperated look and, without further delay, instructed his assistant to arrange a hospital appointment.
After hanging up, he tapped his wrist and clicked his tongue, clearly impatient.
"Room service is taking forever. Why don't you take a shower first?"
"No need."
"Come on, don't be like that. You look like you could use the rest. A shower will make
you feel better."
Matías coaxed, his tone persuasive, with a gentle charm that made the suggestion almost irresistible.
After a moment's hesitation, Kwon Taekjoo reached over to the table, picked up Matías's pistol, held it in clear view, then tucked it into his belt and headed to the bathroom.
As soon as he closed the door, he locked it firmly.
Matías shook his head with a smile.
When the sound of the shower started, he picked up a glass of wine and began swirling it slowly.
The dark red liquid moved smoothly along the elegant edge of the glass.
Now that he thought about it, what was his name?
He'd only ever referred to the man as
Psych's companion, never recalling a proper introduction to Kwon Taekjoo.
All he knew was that he was Korean and seemed to mean a great deal to Psych.
Psych, who had ignored all of Matías's previous requests for a meeting, had suddenly reached out.
He'd said that in exchange for ensuring someone's safety out of Cuba, he'd offer any product Matías wanted.
It wasn't a difficult request for Matías, so he accepted without hesitation.
But he'd still been curious about who Psych wanted to rescue.
At the time, Matías imagined it might be a spy as alluring as Mata Hari. Instead, Psych had brought him a somber-looking Asian man.
And now, "Psych's man" had reappeared in front of Matías, looking almost exactly as he had when he'd escaped from Cuba.
For some reason, Psych wasn't with him, and the man seemed to remember neither Psych nor who he himself was.
What did Psych call him?
"Ahhh, ahhh, Zhe-Zhenya, ahhh! Ahhh, ahhh!"
"Ahhh, uh, Taekjoo, uh, Taekjoo..."
"Ahhh, ahhh, uh, stop that... ahhh, Zhenya...!"
"Ahhh, ahhh, uh, Taekjoo, Taek—...!"
Suddenly, he recalled the sexual encounters between Psych and Kwon Taekjoo.
Despite knowing there were security cameras all over the yacht and the mansion, the two continued their trysts without restraint.
Their rounds were so intense and uninhibited that even Matías, who thought he'd seen it all, was left stunned.
"...Taekjoo?"
Yes, he was sure that was the name.
Kwon Taekjoo also often called Psych by the nickname Zhenya.
Although he didn't know much about their connection, it seemed more than a
partnership.
There was an intimacy there that went beyond mere comradeship.
That Psych's lover was a man didn't surprise him; in this world, eccentric tastes were common.
At that time, Kwon Taekjoo hadn't been able to relax as he did now.
He constantly eyed the CCTV cameras with a suspicious look.
"Hey, look at that. Isn't that a camera?"
"...Quite a preference."
Zhenya just glanced at the CCTV cameras that worried Kwon Taekjoo and simply made a dismissive gesture.
Then Zhenya grabbed Kwon Taekjoo's chin to make him look at him again.
Kwon Taekjoo, who was having a hard time concentrating on what they were doing
and kept averting his eyes to the camera, finally shifted his position so that his body was on top of Zhenya's.
He lifted himself up with his knees, completely baring his crotch to the camera on the ceiling as he did so.
Zhenya's cock, which was rubbing against Kwon Taekjoo's perineum, was also exposed at the same time.
"Hey, wait, they're recording!"
"If they want to spy, let them take a good look."
Zhenya, grinning mischievously, vigorously rammed his cock into Kwon Taekjoo's hole.
Then, Kwon Taekjoo's waist lifted slightly and his head tilted back, brushing against Zhenya's shoulder.
Zhenya enjoyed the tight sensation, rubbing his ear against Kwon Taekjoo's.
He then began to move slowly, placing kisses on Kwon Taekjoo's ear and cheek.
With the deep, slow fucking, Kwon Taekjoo's body shuddered slightly.
Zhenya, from time to time, looked directly at the camera on the ceiling as he thrusted upward, showing off the deed.
Zhenya's firmly impaled cock was clearly moving under the skin of Kwon Taekjoo's
abdomen.
With each heavy movement that hit the inner walls, Kwon Taekjoo's abdominal
muscles swelled and contracted, repeating the movement intensely.
This allowed Zhenya's penetration and intensity to be clearly perceived.
Kwon Taekjoo, who seemed not to have an inch to spare, moaned lustily on top of Zhenya as he fell apart.
Each time his insides were pierced, he gripped Zhenya's thighs tightly, and when
he couldn't take it any longer, he grabbed Zhenya's neck and began kissing him passionately.
Their tongues entangled and pulled apart, greedily meeting again.
They kissed aggressively, as if trying to steal each other's breath.
It was a passionate encounter, almost like a body fight.
In spite of that, the movement of Zhenya's hips that kept on penetrating did not diminish, but became more and more intense.
"Ah, ah... Taekjoo."
"Ahh... uhh..."
They both surrendered to moans of pleasure, rubbing their chins and foreheads together.
It was an achingly tender gesture, as if they were trying to cope with the overwhelming
pleasure they were giving each other.
Matías was taken aback—not only by how vulnerable this "Psych" could be, but also by himself, having silently observed every detail of their intimate encounter.
Maybe he could understand it, just a little.
Seeing Kwon Taekjoo's usually severe, sharp features melt like ripe fruit was, in its way, provocative.
Who would have imagined that Kwon Taekjoo could reveal such a side?
Did Psych know what Kwon Taekjoo was up to right now?
Or that he'd completely forgotten about Psych?
An unexpected wild card had fallen into his hands.
This time, what would Psych offer him?
A satisfied smile spread across Matías's face.