Chapter 24

The atmosphere in the room grew tense. Kang Yu-han felt cornered, his fear mounting as he wondered if Seo Ji-hyuk remembered last night’s kiss.

‘Could he have figured it out?’

“Ah, about that…”

At that moment, Dr. Yoon called out to Seo Ji-hyuk.

“Yes?”

“Remember the medication I prescribed for you last time? It didn’t seem to work initially, but it might have taken effect later.”

“Three days later?”

“That’s one of the controversial things about that drug. It’s supposed to act quickly, but in that sense, it’s a bit disappointing.”

“Is that true?”

Seo Ji-hyuk raised an eyebrow skeptically at Dr. Yoon, who gave an awkward smile and nodded.

When Seo Ji-hyuk let the matter drop, Kang Yu-han silently breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Thank goodness.’ Even if it was just a quick improvisation, the crisis had been averted.

* * *

The Seoul Center’s reception hall was bustling with voices for the first time in a while, thanks to a group of Espers and Guides visiting from the Incheon Songdo Center for an exchange program.

During introductions, Kang Yu-han was surprised. A female Esper named Kim Hyun-young approached Seo Ji-hyuk with familiarity, and what was even more surprising was that Seo Ji-hyuk didn’t brush her off.

“Ji-hyuk!”

“It’s been a while.”

“You never call. What’s up with that?”

“That’s not true. I’ve just been busy.”

Seo Ji-hyuk casually chatting with a colleague was a shock to Kang Yu-han, who was used to his sharp and abrasive demeanor. Typically, Seo Ji-hyuk defied superiors, clashed with Kang Yu-han, his sole teammate, and outright ignored everyone else.

But Seo Ji-hyuk’s interactions with friends he had known before his parents’ death were strikingly normal, almost making him seem like a different person.

“What are you guys doing?”

“Oh, it’s Kyung-jae.”

“Yeah. You haven’t changed a bit.”

“Neither have you.”

A bespectacled, lanky male Guide joined the group. Watching them interact so comfortably, Kang Yu-han couldn’t help but feel left out. He was Seo Ji-hyuk’s closest partner in proximity, but emotionally, he realized they couldn’t have been further apart.

‘Physically close, yet so distant. That’s what we are.’

“Ji-hyuk, how about baseball?”

“I don’t play anymore.”

“Even if someone wants to play with you?”

“I’m not interested.”

“Still as stubborn as ever.”

Eavesdropping from a step back, Kang Yu-han gathered that Kyung-jae and Seo Ji-hyuk had known each other since they were very young. Their conversation even touched on events before their admission to the Esper Cadet Academy.

‘He used to play baseball? That’s surprising.’

Kang Yu-han had assumed Seo Ji-hyuk had been training as an Esper candidate from a young age. Hearing that he had even been selected for a youth baseball team during a brief era of sports revival intrigued him.

‘I can’t picture him playing a team sport. Chasing after a ball instead of taking down targets feels so out of character.’

It reminded Kang Yu-han of his own past. He had briefly been part of a fencing team, and thinking about it now, it felt just as strange. Neither of them seemed suited to activities involving teamwork.

“There’s a baseball club in Incheon now. Kyung-jae’s the president, and I’m the manager.”

“Should I sign up for you?”

“We’d love that.”

Feeling uncomfortable amidst the cheerful atmosphere of the three friends, Kang Yu-han deliberately turned away. To put it simply, he was jealous. After knowing Seo Ji-hyuk for seven years, from when he was twenty until now at twenty-seven, he realized how little he truly understood about him.

‘Hiding my feelings is pointless. There’s no chance for us to even smile at each other, let alone anything else.’

After the welcome ceremony, Kang Yu-han headed to the shooting range to shake off his gloomy mood. Human-shaped targets were automatically set up, moving swiftly from side to side. It was a program designed to hone Espers’ reflexes.

Normally, he would shatter the targets effortlessly with telekinesis the moment they appeared, but today, he couldn’t focus. He either released his energy too late, missing the target entirely, or sent it in the wrong direction. It was entirely unlike him.

[Failure.]
[Target missed. Please try again.]

The system bluntly displayed his poor performance, as if telling him to pull himself together. Frustrated, Kang Yu-han felt like this exercise was only adding to his stress rather than alleviating it. Maybe it was time to call it quits.

* * *

For three days, Seo Ji-hyuk had been busy. Apart from working hours, he spent most of his time socializing with his friends, rarely staying at their shared dorm. What he did during his free time was something Kang Yu-han couldn’t interfere with.

That had always been the nature of their relationship, but this time, it hurt on a different level. Seeing Seo Ji-hyuk laughing and standing beside others made Kang Yu-han’s heart sink.

‘So, he’s capable of being kind to others just as much as he knows how to hate me. Seo Ji-hyuk is human, after all.’

That thought gnawed at Kang Yu-han. The only way to preserve his pride was to act as though nothing was wrong.

The T/F team was functioning normally, but there had been no breakthroughs in the investigation. The constant pressure from superiors was exhausting, and even Kang Yu-han himself was feeling burned out.

They had tracked down individuals from the list of possible infected employees one by one, but most of them showed no signs of suspicion. In desperation, Kang Yu-han had resorted to smearing ampoule solution onto the collars of employees’ uniforms as a test, but there were no reactions.

After five such dead ends, Kang Yu-han began to wonder if they needed to reassess their entire investigative approach.

‘I need to have a serious talk with Seo Ji-hyuk. It feels like we’re heading in the wrong direction, so we should pause and reevaluate.’

Today was Seo Ji-hyuk’s day off. He had been out since morning, likely hanging out with his old friends. Unless it was an emergency, there was no reason to call him back, and Kang Yu-han knew it. That knowledge left him with a heavy heart as he left the dorm. Staying alone in the room he shared with Seo Ji-hyuk would only sour his mood further.

On the second floor of the center was a lounge for employees. Kang Yu-han planned to head there for a cup of coffee and some reading. It was only 10 a.m., so the lounge would likely be quiet before the post-meal coffee seekers arrived. Thinking it would be a peaceful retreat, he opened the door to the lounge.

But as soon as he entered, a strange smell hit his nose.

It wasn’t the usual cheap coffee aroma. The smell was metallic and unpleasant.

“Damn it.”

In the corner of the lounge, on a sofa, lay a grotesque corpse. The pale body of a male employee was sprawled out, his eyes wide open in death. The unsettling detail was that one of his hands was missing. The wound wasn’t cleanly cut as though by a blade—it was ragged, as if something had bitten it off.

A Variant had attacked and devoured a human. This was a serious emergency.

“Emergency! West lounge on the second floor of the main building. Variant traces and one corpse discovered,” Kang Yu-han urgently reported through his communicator.

How had a Variant infiltrated this far into the secure center? The fact that it had evolved to the point of hunting humans was alarming. Why hadn’t they detected it earlier? His thoughts were chaotic, a ringing like sirens filled his ears, and his chest pounded with foreboding.

*･☪D✶༄ ‧₊˚a⋰˚☆m✶༄ ‧₊˚

<RESTRICTED ACCESS>

To prevent the scene from being exposed, Seo Ji-hyuk and Kang Yu-han quickly cordoned off the lounge entrance. Only research doctors and a select few Esper Department staff were granted access to the area.

Those gathered around the body exchanged uneasy glances. It was always expected that more Variants might be lurking within the center. That’s why Seo Ji-hyuk and Kang Yu-han had been instructed to focus on internal investigations.

But no one had anticipated an attack occurring so abruptly. It was practically an ambush.

The research doctor questioned Kang Yu-han, the first to discover the body, before sealing it in a body bag. A cleanup crew soon arrived to sanitize the lounge. Watching the bloodstained floor being restored to its original state, Kang Yu-han felt sick. Erasing the traces didn’t mean the incident had never happened.

What immediately came to mind was the concern that Seo Ji-hyuk’s discharge might be delayed. When he volunteered for the T/F team, Kang Yu-han hadn’t expected things to become this complicated or difficult. He had believed that with Seo Ji-hyuk’s exceptional abilities and his own determination, they would quickly achieve their goal.

But every time they seemed to make progress, the virus mocked them, pulling further away. ‘You’re still far from catching me,’ it seemed to taunt, ridiculing Kang Yu-han.

His head throbbed as though it might split open.