Sung stared at the message until the screen dimmed.

A knot twisted in his stomach. He hadn’t given his number to anyone new. And yet, someone had reached him.

He stepped quietly out of Kei’s room and called his manager. “Hyung, I got a message. One of those sasaengs. It’s serious.”

He read the message aloud. There was a pause.

“We’ll track it down. But for now, avoid anywhere without security or Atlantis staff.”

His grip on the phone tightened. “It mentioned... Kei.”

“...We’ll keep an eye on him too.”

But the thought of Kei, often alone in his studio with no protection, made Sung’s stomach clench.

He returned to the bedroom and sat beside Kei once more.

Kei shifted slightly in his sleep, murmuring something unintelligible. Sung instinctively brushed a strand of hair from his temple.

You should be safe.

You shouldn’t even be dragged into this.

Fear, guilt, anger—emotions churned inside him. But his conclusion was unwavering: he would protect Kei at all costs. Letting him go was no longer an option.

He tucked the blanket gently over Kei’s shoulder.

His phone buzzed again.

Unknown number: You can’t hide him from me.

Sung’s blood ran cold.

Quietly, he lay down beside Kei, careful, as if his presence alone might shield Kei from the world’s sharp edges. He didn’t touch him further—just rested beside him in silence, eyes fixed on the ceiling, grounding himself to the rhythm of Kei’s breath.