[ Everywhere is a deep fryer when you're in the Dispatch & Rescue Unit, he considers saying, but again, it'd be too obvious that he's deflecting the point. That he's trying too hard to ignore the edge of his thumbnail tracing down the sticky curve of his thumb to his palm. Their hands, interlaced with the vice of a crab's pincer. How it made the nerves underneath his wet shirt jump when the agent pressed down on his chest. He's rattled, he's sweating, and he has no idea what the agent is asking of him — if he's even asking, or just demanding it of him, at this point.

His fingers curl, putting up a weak struggle that ultimately goes nowhere, leaving their hands pressed wrist to wrist, veins against veins. This Agent Choi reminds him of the one he encountered in the Faceless Market, cornering him in a place he wasn't supposed to be. Like he's close to hitting gold after picking and wearing away at all of Soleum's locks and deadbolts.

But even back then, it hadn't been gold, he'd been after. It was something else. His dokkaebi hand rises, coming up as if to fend off the expectation in his senior's gaze. ]

If I had a bad feeling, I wouldn't let you go in blind. I'd leave everything I have to you…

[ That's how it comes out. A strained answer, at the end of his rope. ]

But you — you're not someone who changes his mind easily. If you were trying to leave to somewhere where you knew nothing about the risks, there must be a reason for it. Someone you could help. It wouldn't feel right to keep you away from that.

[ Behind his hand, Soleum body hunches into himself, his head hanging low as a frustrated sigh pushes out from him. ]

Ah, really! I-I wish you weren't so stubborn. Do you always have to go this far to push me around…?