PUES Chapter 1 (Part 2)

Hajin Orion was an exception in some ways. He possessed the ability of Purification, which meant he didn’t fight on the front lines like most Espers.

Even so, his life wasn’t easy—he was constantly overworked, crushed under the weight of his responsibilities, forced to endure endless physical labor under the towering figures of his fellow Espers.

Taking care of a child on top of all that? It was an impossible task.

So, like most Espers, Hajin Orion had done the bare minimum—he provided Benny with food, clothing, and shelter but nothing more.

And Hajin—Kwon Hajin—found that unbearably sad.

There had been many moments while reading the novel when Hajin thought, If I were Hajin Orion…

If he had been in Hajin Orion’s place, he would have given Benny more love, guided him properly, and helped him grow into a good person. He wouldn’t have let Benny experience the same kind of loneliness he had.

But reality—or rather, the original story—had played out differently.

In the novel, Benny grew up to be a decent Esper. Physically, at least. But emotionally? He was completely stunted.

Twisted by years of neglect, Benny ultimately ended up violating the very person who had raised him—Hajin Orion.

What began as an act of desperate longing spiraled into something far darker. Overwhelmed by a toxic mix of pleasure and conquest, Benny shattered Hajin Orion’s life in an instant.

He reduced Hajin Orion to nothing more than a tool—an object to satisfy his urges under the guise of Purification.

And in the end, the novel’s protagonist met his tragic fate, broken and ruined at the hands of a man far younger than him.

Of course, Hajin Orion had never shown Benny the slightest bit of affection. He had given him shelter and necessities, but never warmth, never love. So it was no surprise that Benny, starved of even the most basic emotions, had grown up unable to form a healthy attachment to another person.

But now Adam was saying that that Benny—who had become warped and twisted in the original story—had cried for him?

Hajin turned to Adam in disbelief.

Noticing his expression, Adam simply shrugged and added, “Anyway, you’d better go calm the kid down. He’s yours, after all.”

The way he said it sounded odd, but Hajin couldn’t exactly argue.

In a world where Espers were forced into guardian roles without any genuine emotional connection, it was only natural that most of them had no idea how to comfort a crying child.

And yet, Benny was crying for him.

A child quickly learns that crying is useless when no one ever responds. And the Espers, who were supposed to be their guardians, never saw the need to comfort them in the first place.

Left to grow in neglect, the children became detached, and their guardians became indifferent, creating a cycle of emotional numbness.

Even while reading the novel, Hajin had often felt a cold shiver at the way these people were described. They were individuals with distinct personalities, yet at times, they felt less than human.

Now that he was living in this world, the horror of it settled in even deeper.

He did not want to raise Benny the way Hajin Orion had.

As an adult, as a guardian, he wanted to show Benny that there was more to life—that the world was bigger, brighter, and full of possibilities.

Because he had never been given that chance himself.

He had never been nurtured, never been loved in that way.

And if he ever had a child of his own, he had always thought, That’s the one thing I would never let them go without.

He wanted to teach Benny that the world was vast, beautiful, and worth protecting. That this was the right thing to do. That this was what it meant to be human.

The ache in his chest, the sorrow he had felt for Benny while reading the novel, came rushing back. And this time, he made a firm decision.

This was his reality now.

And Benny Curtis, the boy who had been thrust into his life as a responsibility, was his child now.

For so long, he had only wished for a different outcome, only hoped for change from behind the pages of a book. But now, for the first time, he had the power to act.

He would not let Benny slip into the same tragic fate.

That was his duty as Hajin Orion. That was his responsibility as Benny’s guardian.

“…Still, it must’ve really shaken him,” Mason murmured. “No one expected you to jump in like that, Hajin.”

“…Yeah.”

Hajin mumbled in response, hesitantly nodding at Mason’s sigh.

Something about this didn’t quite sit right.

The way Mason spoke—something about his words didn’t match what Hajin remembered from the novel.

There was a subtle but undeniable discrepancy between what he had read and what had actually happened.

And that quiet, creeping sense of wrongness unsettled him.

Before Hajin could even process his confusion, another wave of memories surged through him, crashing into his mind like a tidal wave. He inhaled sharply, his eyes squeezing shut as the flood overwhelmed him.

Benny was an exceptionally intelligent child.

Because of that, he had learned to control his abilities at a young age, and his calm temperament allowed him to get along with other children without much difficulty.

And it was Hajin Orion who had been assigned as Benny’s guardian.

As the only Purification Esper in the Center, Hajin Orion played a vital role in managing the addiction that plagued Espers.

In a world overrun by Creatures, Espers were essential in combatting them. However, they had one fatal weakness—after every battle, toxins would accumulate in their bodies, and without Purification, those toxins would never leave.

Hajin Orion’s ability allowed him to cleanse the Espers of these toxins, saving them from a slow, inevitable death.

But the method of Purification…

It required him to spread his legs.

And for Benny, his own guardian being forced into that role was a source of unbearable shame.

While Hajin Orion worked at the Center, Benny underwent education and training at a specialized academy designed for young Espers. There, he took rigorous tests and received meticulous supervision to ensure he grew into a functional Esper.

But then—an incident happened.

One day, whispers of “prostitute” began to follow Hajin Orion’s name like a curse.

And Benny, still just a child, had been forced to bear the weight of that stigma.

It had likely started from something as petty as jealousy.

Benny was an exceptional student—earning top marks, receiving constant praise from his instructors, known as assigned Espers or mentors.

His peers, envious and immature, lashed out in the only way they knew how—by targeting something that could hurt him.

The teasing had started small, little jabs here and there.

But Benny had always been mature beyond his years. He never reacted, never let himself be baited. Instead, he endured in silence, responding with nothing but cold indifference.

Hajin knew all of this—he had read it in the novel.

And it had devastated him.

Because if it had been him—if Kwon Hajin had been the one raising Benny— he would have never let it get that far.

He would have defended him without hesitation. He would have stormed into that academy the very same day and demanded those brats be held accountable.

But the original Hajin Orion had been different.

Detached and indifferent, he had left Benny to deal with it alone.

He had coldly told the child, “Your problems are yours to handle.”

And with those words, he had driven a dagger straight into Benny’s fragile heart.

Hajin Orion had never been a protector—only an obligatory guardian, offering shelter without warmth.

And Hajin—Kwon Hajin—had hated that.

He had ached for Benny, mourned for him, felt a tenderness for him that had no place in reality.

Even though Benny was just a fictional character, he had felt real.

And now…

Now he was real.

The moment Hajin recalled that ache—the moment he felt that sorrow again—something inside him clicked.

A memory, his memory.

A blur of golden hair whipping through the air.

Tear-soaked, sky-blue eyes wide with fear.

A trembling voice calling his name.

The overwhelming pain that wracked his body.

The terror-stricken face of a child clutching him desperately.

Benny had sobbed as if he had just witnessed the most terrifying thing in the world.

He had cradled Hajin’s broken body, drenching him in tears, wailing in sheer, uncontrollable agony.

But maybe—

Maybe it wasn’t Hajin Orion whom Benny had been crying for.

Maybe it was Kwon Hajin.

Because Kwon Hajin had always wanted to protect Benny.

And somehow, in some inexplicable way, that wish had become reality.

‘This life as Hajin Orion… It hadn’t begun today.’

It had begun yesterday.

“Oh my god…”

“Hajin?”

“I need to see Benny—right now.”

The urgency in Hajin’s voice startled Mason, who quickly grabbed his wrist.

“Wait, you can’t just—”

A sharp sting shot through his hand, making him wince. Only then did he notice the IV needle still embedded in the back of his hand.

Mason, with practiced efficiency, removed it, finally freeing him. Hajin let out a small breath, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.

The very same people who had been fussing over him moments ago—demanding that he stay put—were now supporting him on either side as he stood.

But the moment he thought of Benny, his body seemed to regain its strength.

Only minutes ago, he had felt weak and sluggish. Now, he moved with purpose, as if the exhaustion had never existed.

And it wasn’t hard to navigate his way—he knew exactly where he was going.

Because this was the Center’s emergency ward, a place Hajin Orion had frequented countless times.

Thanks to that familiarity, he quickly made it outside the hospital room.

Benny wasn’t here—probably because children weren’t allowed in this section.

A pang of disappointment struck him, but just as he slowed his pace, hesitating—

A flash of golden hair shot toward him.

“Teacher!”

Hajin barely swallowed the choked noise that nearly escaped him.

If he showed even a hint of pain, Benny would cry again.

So, he braced himself—kept himself steady—and pulled the small body into his arms.

Mason and Adam, who had been supporting him up until now, awkwardly took a step back, giving them space.

“…T-Teacher…”

Benny’s voice trembled, thick with unshed tears.

The boy clung to him tightly, as if afraid he would disappear if he let go.

Hajin felt something deep in his chest tighten.

The child had been alone for so long.

And now, even over something as small as this, he was holding back his tears, forcing himself to swallow them down.

As if he wasn’t allowed to cry.

As if his feelings didn’t matter.

“…I… I…”

Benny stammered, his tiny hands clutching at Hajin’s clothes.

Benny was confused.

For as long as he could remember, Hajin had treated him with indifference—barely acknowledging his existence, like a stray pebble on the roadside.

And yet, suddenly, out of nowhere, Hajin had thrown himself into an incident that made no sense.

It was wrong.

It didn’t fit the Hajin Orion he had come to know.

But just before Hajin collapsed—

The warmth of his embrace, the softness of his voice—

They had melted through the cold walls of Benny’s heart in an instant.

He had never seen Hajin Orion act this way before.

But because of that, he knew it was real.

“I… I thought you hated me….”

His tearful voice soaked Hajin’s shoulder, but Hajin didn’t mind.

He simply lowered himself to one knee, wrapping his arms around the small warmth pressing into him.

Benny was only ten.

Some might say it was an age where a child should start growing up.

But he was still young.

And he had lived with Hajin Orion for less than a year.

People often called Espers monsters, mutants, something other than human.

But the Benny Hajin had come to know through the novel—

He was just a child.

A child who needed an adult to protect him.

Neglect was also a form of abuse.

Hajin Orion had been wrong.

In the original story, this had been the moment when Benny had finally given up—when he had abandoned every last shred of hope in his guardian.

Hajin had felt it as he read.

And he had resented the author for crafting such a cruel world.

But now—

Now, he had the chance to stop it.

Now, he had the power to change it.

“I won’t leave you alone anymore.”

As a hazy recollection of yesterday drifted through his mind, Hajin gently ran his fingers through the soft strands of golden hair, a silent promise taking root.

– If you take the word prostitute away from a prostitute… what’s left?

The moment an Esper—the guardian of the child who had mocked Hajin Orion—uttered those words, everything escalated.

What had started as a childish taunt turned into a full-blown conflict between adults.

Instead of reprimanding their ward, the Esper had validated the insult, letting the slur fester in the minds of the children.

And Benny—

Benny, who had been holding everything in, who had swallowed his emotions time and time again—

Couldn’t hold back any longer.

His power erupted.

And in the chaos of it all, Hajin had rushed in to stop him—only to be caught in the crossfire and critically injured.

That was how he had ended up here.

But even as he pieced it all together, Hajin understood why Benny had snapped.

That final desperate scream—

That hand reaching out, begging to be loved—

It had carved itself into Hajin’s heart.

And for that, he was grateful.

Because if Benny hadn’t broken that day, this entire incident would have been dismissed as a minor scuffle in the original story.