The morning started at 5:00 a.m. sharp. In the dim light of dawn, Leo and Nox were already on the rooftop, sweat-slicked and silent, exchanging strikes and footwork in their daily sparring. Nox's violet eyes gleamed beneath damp loose strands, hair tied into a messy black bun, three ear studs catching the rising sun. Leo, sharp-eyed with icy blue irises, matched him beat for beat, quiet grunts and the occasional breath their only soundtrack.
Afterward, they cooled down with deep stretches. Leo handed Nox a cup of black coffee—just the way he liked it. Breakfast was a quiet affair, eggs and toast, both checking digital reports on their phones. The piercing silence was comfort.
College was... boring. The shared lectures felt like filler episodes in their day. Leo skimmed strategic planning material while reading financial documents for the new company. Meanwhile, Nox was hidden behind his laptop screen, fingers dancing over the keys as he hacked into the university's security grid, checking for surveillance weaknesses.
Ash passed them in the hallway.
They didn't even blink.
Ash might as well have been a ghost. Nox turned slightly to check Leo's face. No reaction. Good. They had better things to do.
Leo peeled away from Nox at the campus gate. He had to head to the company site—the weaponry research facility that now had all its legal documentation and front company status finalized. His and Nox's name were on every paper. The territory was secure.
Meanwhile, Nox returned to the old dorm. Underground, beneath layers of cement and hidden codes, he began carefully transporting his hidden arsenal—rifles, explosives, rare tech—packing it in reinforced cases and making the trek to the new apartment. Everything was clean, professional, silent.
Then, he made his next stop: picking up the five new weaponry researchers, each carefully vetted and promised safety. Their new dormitory building, guarded and tucked near the research compound, was secured by nightfall.
Back at the apartment, Leo was already inspecting the arsenal cases Nox had lined along the wall. His hand ran across a matte black sniper rifle.
"This alone could seize a border," Leo muttered.
"Toys," Nox replied from the kitchen, where he was stirring dinner. "All collector's items."
Dinner was grilled beef with miso rice. Leo chewed thoughtfully while flipping through blueprints of machinery they were due to manufacture. Nox moved with a slight wince, his side still bandaged.
Then Nox made his announcement.
"I'm heading to the underground fighting club. Tonight's an 'anything goes' match."
Leo didn't even look up. "No. You're still injured. Sit your ass down."
"I can stand."
"You can't breathe if I put pressure on your ribs."
Nox sulked. With his arms crossed, he collapsed on the couch, muttering under his breath before grabbing his laptop.
"What now?" Leo asked, watching him type furiously.
"Hacking jobs. Desperate housewives pay stupid money to track cheating husbands."
Leo sighed and turned back to his tablet, calculating the budget for their upcoming tech shipment. They worked side by side in silence—Nox committing cybercrime, Leo planning military-grade logistics.
Elsewhere…
Dominik was lying on the floor of the surveillance room, files spread out like confetti, dramatically chewing on a pencil.
"Look at this!" he pointed at a report. "5 a.m. training. Coffee. Tactical meal prep. Then college. They ignored Ash like he was air! Who writes these scripts?"
The ex-boss, now retired and living in half-denial, flipped a page.
"They did a full arsenal relocation, Leo called a war-grade explosive a paperweight, and Nox is working freelance for rich divorcees now."
"They sat on the sofa together. Sofa! Working quietly! It's domestic as hell and they don't even realize it! One day they're going to accidentally get married and think it was just convenient."
"I give it two weeks," the ex-boss muttered.
Dominik wailed. "It's a K-drama. I'm living in a goddamn slow-burn mafia romance K-drama and they don't even see it!"