The Sailors headed to the cafeteria still dressed in their patient gowns.

A special meal had been prepared just for them—pine nut porridge and pudding.

Apparently, not only Jiwon, but the others had also masturbated or even had sex. Whatever form of sex it was, no one spoke a word about what they experienced in Eden. Judging by their mostly satisfied expressions, it seemed like they had all enjoyed it. Even Jiwon had enjoyed it before remembering that day’s events, so he couldn’t really say anything.

Except for one thing.

“There was no bleeding.”

That was the doctor’s answer when Jiwon, who had bled enough to fill a puddle and feared his hole had torn—or worse, suffered intestinal rupture—asked for an explanation.

“If it had been an intestinal rupture, we would’ve done surgery.”

The doctor added, in a tone like he was entertaining a needless worry.

“So that means... not even tearing, down there?”

“Correct. There’s no damage to the anal area. Of course, there are minor abrasions from friction, but they’re the kind you typically get after sex. No need to worry.”

Just as the doctor said, if it had been a rupture, there would’ve been surgery. And if they had neglected it, Jiwon would’ve been screaming in agony. Painkillers might buy a couple hours, but it could’ve progressed to peritonitis in that time. In severe cases, even sepsis.

Even if it wasn’t a rupture, just tears would’ve caused him to double over in pain. He wouldn’t be lying here peacefully on an IV drip.

So... was it all a hallucination?

Maybe.

The puddle of blood had disappeared in an instant.

The irony of hallucinating that of all things. It was that image of the blood-soaked puddle—or thanks to it—that he recovered the memory of the day of the accident, which had been sealed away for over two years.

Jiwon thought he was truly insane for enjoying such a brutal act, even under the influence of drugs. Separate from that, he was also thankful to Gwak Chan, who had managed to carry out the whole act so smoothly without leaving a scratch on his hole or intestines.

“Damn, this is delicious.”

Kim Yunho gave up using a spoon and just drank the porridge straight from the bowl, slurping ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) it down like soup and giving a thumbs up.

“Why is there so little? I’m starving to death here.”

Park Geonwoo, who had already finished his portion, grumbled. Jeong Hajun lifted his empty bowl and echoed him, “So mean.”

“Hyung, do you want mine?”

For once, Han Seoho offered his bowl to Park Geonwoo.

Until Eden, Park Geonwoo had disliked Han Seoho, so he blinked in surprise: “Really? You’re really giving it to me?” And when Han Seoho handed the bowl over, he replied sincerely, “Thanks,” and accepted it.

Jiwon didn’t hate Han Seoho anymore either.

“Why aren’t you eating?”

Kim Yunho pointed at Jiwon’s untouched porridge.

“Just... I’m full.”

Jiwon didn’t want to admit that he was the only one without an appetite while everyone else was eating heartily, so he patted his stomach as if to imply he’d had something else—something tasty. Sexual, even.

That earned him a sly smirk from Kim Yunho. “You little shit. Must’ve gotten your protein in properly.”

“Wanna eat?”

Jiwon offered his bowl, and Kim Yunho took it without hesitation.

“Thanks, buddy.”

As he said it, Kim Yunho made a finger heart, and Jiwon, unusually expressive, recoiled in mock disgust. The others burst out laughing.

The mood was good. Completely different from before entering Eden.

Jiwon was glad to return to a warm, cheerful team—but also bitter.

That the reason they’d grown this close was because they got high and had sex.

Then he scolded himself for getting sentimental at a damn sex party.

No one here had been dragged in against their will. They’d willingly sat through humiliating interviews, willingly completed the physicals, and willingly chosen to isolate themselves from society.

Even at the orientation, they’d been given a chance to quit. None had taken it. Not only that—during the past week, there had been many opportunities to leave. And yet, they stayed.

On top of that, they were receiving far more money and privileges than they deserved.

All that “they” had done so far was eat, drink, and enjoy themselves.

Whatever Jiwon’s purpose was in coming here, he had in fact lived comfortably, just like the others. And he’d enjoyed himself, too. So what right did he have to get bitter and reflective?

He stopped the thoughts. From experience, when he started thinking too much, it was a sign his focus was slipping. Which meant danger was increasing.

I am Kim Jiwon. Twenty-eight. Substitute driver. In debt.

He repeated his identity to himself—a status he had never confused and never would. The reminder brought a kind of peace.

Since the meal only consisted of porridge and pudding, it was over in under fifteen minutes.

The captain, who had been sitting at the same table watching the Sailors eat, stood as soon as the last spoon was set down and announced the next part of the schedule.

“From now on, everyone will return to their rooms and rest. Keep showers light, but clean your back end thoroughly, as instructed. Let’s see...”

The team leader set an alarm on his wristwatch and continued, “Then in one hour, I’ll send a gift to each of your rooms.”

A gift?

“A special reward just for our dear Sailors who brought us such intense pleasure.”

His voice swelled with pride.

Like he couldn’t hold back his admiration for these team members who had sold their bodies for others’ enjoyment. Even through his sunglasses, it was obvious how delighted he was.

Must be nice, you fucking bastard.

Jiwon didn’t cheer with the others.

Then he locked eyes with Park Geonwoo, who was also standing blankly, not joining the celebration.

Why does he look like that?

“Didn’t like it?”

On the way back to their rooms, Park Geonwoo casually asked.

“Sorry?”

“Eden.”

“Oh, no. I liked it. What about you, hyung?”

“Me? It was incredible. But...”

He trailed off.

“Wore me out. It was kinda... intense.”

He looked at Jiwon with a slightly exhausted expression.

Now Jiwon thought he understood why he’d looked that way.

“To be honest, hyung, I also had something kind of... rough.”

“You too?”

He didn’t seem surprised. If anything, he looked like he expected it.

To Jiwon, it didn’t seem like Park Geonwoo was just tired. There was something more to it.

“Did the clinic say you were okay?”

Just in case, he asked.

“Of course. I’m not hurt.”

Park Geonwoo gave an awkward smile.

“Whatever this ‘gift’ is, I hope it’s something we can enjoy. If we don’t have fun, those fuckers watching won’t either, right?”

As he said this, he pointed up—at the CCTV that was no doubt monitoring their every move.

Though usually laid-back, Park Geonwoo, who’d embraced communal life more than anyone, was oddly cynical today.

Something must’ve happened.

Even excluding the chance of death or injury, there were too many worst-case outcomes during sex for Jiwon to press the issue. He probably wouldn’t get an answer anyway.

Park Geonwoo, whose room was closest to the second floor lobby, was the first to enter his room. He waved at the others.

“See you later, my babies.”

His teasing, affectionate goodbye made everyone laugh.

Jiwon, whose room was the farthest, waved to each teammate as they entered their rooms. He watched Kim Yunho go in last before arriving at his own door.

Finally, he was alone.

He leaned against the door, then slowly walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window.

The garden outside was so fresh and vibrant, it looked just as beautiful as the hallucinated Eden. Jiwon let out a small laugh.

“Why bother with holograms? Just send us out there.”

Then again, he figured holograms were probably cheaper. That silly thought prompted him to undress. He turned and walked to the bathroom.

He did as the captain instructed—showered and cleaned thoroughly—then laid down naked on the bed. Limbs spread, eyes dazed, staring up at the ceiling.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw that leather glove dripping with blood.

That black fist. The headlight.

The puddle formed from the blood flowing out of his genitals.

That boy, curled up.

Fuck.

He clenched his teeth.

Maybe he should just masturbate.

Maybe then it wouldn’t come back.

Rather than resting, Jiwon spent the next hour exhausting himself in a battle with the past.

No matter how often he told himself it was fine, that it was all in the past, the moment he closed his eyes, it returned in painful, vivid detail. Like someone was playing back the footage in 4K, right in front of his eyes.

At this rate, how was he supposed to play the game properly?

He was sure this wouldn’t be some childish Manito mission again—and that terrified him.

Tossing and turning in his misery, he barely endured the hour.

Knock knock.

Someone knocked.

That sound had never been so welcome.

Jiwon quickly sat up and slipped on his shower gown.

He couldn’t help but wonder—what kind of gift would it be? Hopefully something edible.

That thought led him to realize he hadn’t had fried chicken even once here. Sure, they’d served chicken breast—grilled, boiled, stir-fried—but never crispy, skin-on fried chicken.

Just a piece of that, with a cold beer, and he’d have no other wishes.

His mouth watered.

“I’m coming.”

He opened the door with anticipation.

“Oh.”

And immediately looked up in disappointment.

“What’s not it?”

Number 3, dressed in a shower gown, smiled brightly.

“Oh, nothing. Just... what brings you...?”

“I was told to come to you, Sailor-nim.”

“By who?”

“The team leader.”

“...Why.”

Fuck. The gift was a person.

Of course. What kind of idiot thinks about fried chicken in a place like this?

“What exactly did your team leader say?”

“You gonna leave me standing out here?”

“...Ah.”

Jiwon finally stepped aside.

He let Number 3 in, then stepped out of the room briefly to check who was entering the other rooms. But there was no one.

“You’re not coming in?”

“I am.”

He lingered a moment longer, then closed the door and came inside.

Number 3 was standing at the window, his back to the garden.

The moment Jiwon turned around from shutting the door, he undid the tie on his gown.

“Wait—what are you...?”

Before he could stop him, Number 3 shrugged the gown off.

He stood completely naked in front of Jiwon.

“What? Don’t like what you see?”

He glanced down at his own body and asked.

His innocence made Jiwon laugh.

“Just—put your clothes on for now.”

He nodded toward the robe.

“So you don’t like it?”

“That’s not it. Just put it back on.”

Jiwon pressed him, and Number 3 reluctantly bent down to pick it up.