“What’s wrong? Why are you doing that?”
Even though it was the faintest groan, Hajin asked with a start, his body jolting.
His blue eyes, filled with fear and panic, looked down at Suhyeon.
“Did I hurt you?”
“Oh, no—”
Before Suhyeon could even finish his sentence, Hajin carefully rolled up the sleeve of his wrist.
A slender, white wrist was revealed, encircled by multiple rounds of dark red scabs.
“…….”
The hand supporting Suhyeon’s wrist trembled violently.
Suhyeon looked up.
Hajin’s blue eyes were shaking with turbulence.
Even the slight hint of color that usually existed on Hajin’s naturally pale face drained away completely.
With a shuddering hand, Hajin placed Suhyeon’s wrist down with extreme care.
Then he reached out and took Suhyeon’s other hand.
When he rolled the sleeve back on that arm, he saw several more red lines etched into the skin.
“……That.”
For a long time, Hajin stared at the wounds in silence before finally finding his voice.
Suhyeon looked up at him quietly, his face still wet with tears.
“Did Shin Seojun… do this… with his ability?”
Looking at Suhyeon’s face, Hajin asked in a stuttering, rough voice.
He seemed to recognize exactly what these marks were the moment he saw them.
Suhyeon hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
“With the music box……?”
The follow-up question was closer to a faint scream.
Suhyeon gave another small nod.
Hajin’s face contorted. His lips moved soundlessly.
His mouth opened and closed as if there were words he desperately wanted to spit out, but in the end, he couldn’t make a sound.
Hajin took Suhyeon’s hand again with a trembling grip.
He pressed it against his cheek and slowly leaned his upper body over Suhyeon.
He wasn’t crying, but he looked as though he were collapsing from within.
“I’m sorry……”
Finally, a faint, squeezed-out voice escaped Hajin.
“It’s my fault……”
Holding Suhyeon’s hand and shivering, Hajin looked incredibly fragile.
“It’s not……”
Suhyeon watched him and offered a weak denial.
After trembling for a long time, Hajin lifted his head.
His distorted blue eyes locked onto Suhyeon.
He shook his head.
“It is my fault. It’s my mistake. I was stupid enough not to realize what that bastard’s goal was… If I had just… if I had just stayed by your side, Suhyeon-ssi wouldn’t have—”
Muttering incoherently, he buried his face in Suhyeon’s chest again.
“It hasn’t even been that long since the Gate incident… and I thought… I thought I lost you again……”
It really hadn’t been long since the Gate had erupted right before their eyes.
That much was true.
Suhyeon let out a dry breath and then placed his hand on Hajin’s head.
As Hajin shivered, the vibrations traveled directly through Suhyeon’s arm.
“I was scared……”
“I’m sorry……”
When he spoke weakly, an apology returned once more.
Suhyeon let out a long breath and sat up from the sofa.
Hajin raised his head accordingly.
As Suhyeon leaned his back against the cushions, he looked down at Hajin’s face—the man was still kneeling on the floor, hands resting on the sofa.
He looked so precarious.
Even though it was Suhyeon who had been kidnapped, Hajin seemed even less able to compose himself.
Suhyeon watched him quietly for a moment, then reached out both arms toward him.
Hajin’s eyes shook.
Soon his face crumpled again, and he stood up to lift Suhyeon into a tight embrace.
“Did it… hurt a lot……?”
At Hajin’s stuttered words, Suhyeon gave a small nod.
Feeling that movement, Hajin tightened his grip around him.
Suhyeon weakly stroked Hajin’s back.
They stayed wrapped in each other’s arms like that for a long time.
As time passed and the shaking in Hajin’s body began to subside, Suhyeon pulled back slightly.
Although his body still shivered whenever he thought of what happened with Shin Seojun, he had regained some level of calm.
The relief and security he felt just from Hajin holding him slowly warmed his chilled body.
Hajin, who had been burying his head in Suhyeon’s shoulder, also lifted his face.
They looked into each other’s eyes.
“Can I ask… what kind of person your father is?”
Suhyeon finally asked in a quiet tone.
Hajin’s eyes wavered.
However, it wasn’t long before he opened his mouth.
The story that flowed out was something Suhyeon had expected, yet it was still utterly horrific.
The childhood experiments.
Shin Seojun’s obsession with those with special traits.
The abandoned Hajin.
The awakened Hajin.
Listening to the whole story, Suhyeon’s face contorted just as Hajin’s had earlier.
It was a suffocating tale—so cruel and inhumane that no words could form when thinking of the pain Hajin must have endured.
“I’m sorry for getting you caught up in this……”
Even after all that, Hajin apologized again for something that wasn’t his fault.
Suhyeon looked up at him, his face twisted with emotion.
Hajin’s expression held only terrible guilt and fear for Suhyeon.
To the point where he didn’t look like someone who had just confessed to a childhood nightmare; his eyes were filled solely with concern for Suhyeon.
A person whose very first memory was an experimental table.
—Uu, ugh……
Suhyeon recalled the child Shin Seojun had brought before him.
He saw Hajin’s face overlap with the child who was suffering through a rampage.
It was hideous.
How much did it hurt?
Even Suhyeon had been in pain; how much more must this man have suffered?
“I’m sorry……”
Again, nothing but apologies.
Suhyeon, his eyes narrowing, raised both arms—marks and all—and cupped Hajin’s cheeks.
Blue eyes shook as they looked down at him.
“Don’t apologize.”
“But—”
“It’s not something you need to apologize for. You… you just.”
Suhyeon paused for a moment before continuing with a slight stutter.
“You’ve… been through so much…….”
Suhyeon whispered the words, burying his face in Hajin’s shoulder.
Hajin’s body froze for a second, and then he pulled him in even tighter.
The two of them held each other for a long time until they eventually fell into an exhausted sleep.
“Kyuu……”
Beside them, the fluff-ball let out a tired chirp before wedging itself between them and falling asleep as well.
“You didn’t have to give me something like this.”
“Oh, it’s just a token of my appreciation! Please make sure to take my case next time too. By the way, I heard you don’t have a partner anymore? Would you ever consider pairing with me?”
Late at night, Lee Jaeram threw the shopping bags he’d received from the Esper he’d guided onto the floor and lay down on his bed.
Two pieces of news had reached him—one bad, and one good.
The bad news: Chae Suhyeon, the Guide who had turned the Association upside down after being kidnapped, had been found and had returned safely.
He’d heard Suhyeon was taken by an unidentified Esper.
Lee Jaeram, who had secretly hoped Suhyeon would never return or at least be found dead, clicked his tongue in annoyance.
However, his eyebrows shot up when he saw the message that followed from Lee Nahyeon.
The good news: The sudden monster disturbance that happened in the city earlier today—Chae Suhyeon was the one who caused it.
Or, at the very least, he was involved.
He’d heard about the monster incident in the heart of Seoul.
There was no way reporters would miss something like that.
Fortunately, there were no casualties or injuries, but the appearance of a monster in a place without a Gate had become a massive topic of conversation.
Reporters were churning out all sorts of speculative articles.
Lee Jaeram usually looked at such news with bored eyes, caring only for the Espers he could keep under his thumb, but Chae Suhyeon had caused it?
It would be ridiculous enough if an Esper had done it, but a Guide causing a mysterious monster incident?
As Lee Jaeram frowned at the nonsensical news, a video arrived.
—?
—??
—……What is that?
—I think something’s wrong with my eyes. Why is that monster like that?
It had been posted in the Lee family group chat.
The twins, Lee Yujin and Lee Gyujin, must have seen it first; shocked messages were flying in one after another.
Ignoring the constant pings of his phone, Lee Jaeram played the video.
In the low-quality footage, likely from a CCTV camera, a white monster was clearly visible.
Because it was pure white, it looked somewhat different from the usual hideous monsters that dripped dark purple energy.
The creature roared loudly and thrashed about, appearing to be in combat with something.
After a long while of roaring and thrashing, the monster’s movements suddenly grew strange.
Then, it flashed white and disappeared.
No—did it not disappear?
Lee Jaeram instinctively zoomed in on the footage.
He saw the monster transform into a tiny dot and roll toward Chae Suhyeon, who was being held by Esper Shin Hajin.
“……Ha!”
Lee Jaeram sat bolt upright in bed.
The strange appearance of the monster.
The way it seemed to be controlled by Chae Suhyeon.
An unknown power.
What had seemed like a forced lie during their last attempt at manipulation had become reality.
After a string of bad luck since breaking his pair with Asher, a gift had finally landed in Lee Jaeram’s lap.
