That easy, unruffled smile somehow felt unfair. Hwanghon flared up and snapped back.
“Who do you think you are, Aladdin or something…?!”
“This tofu mobster throws a fit even when I give him a great view. If you don’t like it, get off.”
“H-hey, I never said I didn’t like it?”
Is there anyone in the world who dislikes a sight like this? Is that even… possible?
Clutching the fringe at the edge of the magic carpet, Hwanghon lifted his head. He quietly stretched out his other arm.
A full moon, white buildings, palm trees, and tens of thousands of stars so close they felt within reach.
The night wind and clouds brushed past his shoulders.
Sssrip—beside him, Gyeon Jioh unwound the cloth he’d had around his face. The long, thin tail of fabric brushed Hwanghon’s cheek.
He felt like he’d never forget that sensation for as long as he lived.
Looking into eyes that resembled the star clusters overhead, Hwanghon suddenly thought so.
“…Where’d you even get…