🌞Chapter 2🌻

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The string of the bag Gulf carried was biting into his hand. He had sacrificed much to win the weight of these books.

He climbed aboard a subway train and leaned back against the door. His eyes casually sweeping the compartment, Gulf noticed that the ads hanging in the train were for Emergence, bearing a portrait of a brooding Mew. A pretty face couldn't write a novel, but while Mew's tightly written prose was obviously the basis of his popularity, his rare good looks definitely contributed to it.

When the good-looking mystery writer first debuted, Gulf had been in college. That first encounter with Mew's writing had changed Gulf's life. He had been studying at the economics department of a private university, following in his banker father's footsteps, and like all his friends he'd had the vague ambition of working at some financial institution. But Gulf had loved Mew's writing so deeply that he had become obsessed with anything that would bring him closer to it.

That was how he'd come to work at a publishing house. But even when his dream had come true and he was Mew's editor, his old enthusiasm lived on inside him, still alive.

Still, his first job with Mew, which produced Emergence, had been one challenge after another. Possessing talent, beauty, and popularity, Mew understood his readership well. He didn't like to litter his writing around indiscriminately, so he stuck to a policy of publishing only one book per year with each publishing house he was affiliated with.

But the last quarter's results in Gulf's department were terrible, so they had taken the only route open to them, getting a sure-fire hit out of Mew in order to stay afloat. Since Gulf was an alumnus of the same college Mew had attended it had fallen to him to negotiate the deal.

Gulf had gone many times to ask Mew to write something, but Mew refused to write unless Gulf put his own body on the negotiating table. It had all started when Mew invited Gulf to play a game of pool. Gulf had wagered Mew's finished manuscript, while Mew required Gulf's body as his prize. Every time Mew won, Gulf surrendered his body, every time Mew lost, he had to write twenty pages for the book. Gulf had taken the gamble, clinging to a fragile hope for success, but he had no chance of winning against Mew, who was a pro-level player. That night, his body had been claimed for the first time. That was why Gulf couldn't tell anyone how he had gotten Mew to write his new book.

Since that bet, though, Gulf was in love. The mere thought of seeing his lover again soon made Gulf's heart pound of control and he almost forgot all about work.

Mew lived in a luxury condo near Hamarikyu, which was rumored to be worth several billion. His parents had been both wealthy and he had never wanted for anything in his life.

Trees were planted along the walkway that led to the building, the green of their leaves deepening with the end of spring. Gulf cut across the lawn tot the entrance and dialed the number for Mew's apartment on the intercom panel. Mew had shown Gulf how to unlock the door, but he was calling for business that day, not as a private person, so he wanted to follow the rules. No matter how close he got to Mew, he didn't want to mix the personal with the professional.

Strangely, Mew answered the call. Gulf stated his name and business and Mew unlocked the door immediately.

Mew's apartment was on the fortieth floor. The view it commanded was magnificent. It was especially incredible at night, when it looked as if someone had overturned a box of jewels outside his window.

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Gulf got off the elevator and walked to Mew's door, taking several deep breaths. He rang the bell and a few moments later the door opened.

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