HLSEBT - 20

20. The Spark Grew Like That 1

Since they’re watching us anyway, why don’t they just end it? I don’t even get tense in situations like this. 

She disliked this kind of artificial manipulation. With a cold expression, she crossed her arms. Inside the giant metal box with its massive glass window overlooking the outside, the two waited for a moment. 

After some thought, Cheon Geon-young made a suggestion. 

“If it feels suffocating, we can leave.” 

“Huh?” 

“You can leave, right?” 

He was talking about teleportation. Cheon Geon-young had already been seen teleporting into the dark tunnels at Hapjeong Station. 

Yoon Taeha, who didn’t enjoy the awkward silence, agreed with his idea. 

“Anyway, the program says we need to try teleporting together a few times. Doing it now wouldn’t be bad.” 

They had plenty to discuss. Since they were going somewhere anyway, why not go a bit farther? She considered some suitable hideout candidates. 

“Have you ever teleported with an Esper before?” 

“I’ve done it several times at school.” 

“What rank?” 

“A mid-level B-rank teleporter.” 

“Ah... B-rank.” 

With a flat exclamation, Yoon Taeha extended her hand. 

“To me, teleporting with them isn’t really proper teleportation.” 

Curious, he took her hand. When his calloused soldier’s hand grasped hers, Yoon Taeha let out a small cough. 

So the spark from back then really was a coincidence. She felt nothing now. 

Even if it was a coincidence, this man was the first guide to have infused her with such energy. 

“Is there anywhere you want to go?” 

“Anywhere you want to go is fine with me.” 

How does he know where that is? As expected, he had no fear. 

She moved toward the cityscape beyond the glass window. 

Lee Haekyung’s office was filled with cold air. 

The air conditioner, set to a summer-appropriate cooling temperature, seemed futile as his mood continued to plummet. 

This was why Lee Haekyung, who loved plants, couldn’t keep potted plants in his office or home—the temperature around him fluctuated with his emotions. “Plant Killer” was one of his other nicknames. 

“Maybe we should remove the air conditioner.” 

Seo Dojin, entering through the door, remarked on the unusually frigid air. 

Lee Haekyung, who had been gazing out the window, greeted him with a slightly weary expression. 

“Is it that cold?” 

“Penguins would find this temperature perfect.” 

“It’s time for me to receive guiding too. I’ve been busy and haven’t seen you lately.” 

“The Boss’s guide is always busy—it can’t be helped. Anyway, did you review the report?” 

“This morning.” 

Lee Haekyung brought up the report on the large screen. 

Kim Jin-seok / Age 35 

It was the report on the thug with terrible luck who had attacked ARK upon Yoon Taeha’s return. 

The photo of the man wearing an ivory-colored restraint suit marked with an Esper serial number caught the attention of both men. 

Dark circles under his eyes, lips covered in white flakes, and a fading purple bruise still visible on his jaw. 

“Don’t beat him, Dojin.” 

“I didn’t.” 

“What else could you possibly borrow my authority for? Who doesn’t know that Seo Dojin lives a clean life?” 

Seo Dojin, casually perched on the armrest of the sofa, scratched the bridge of his nose. 

“That’s not the important part.” 

“He’s where he needs to be—what could be more important than that?” 

This guy, seriously. Rolling his eyes, Lee Haekyung sat on the armrest of the opposite sofa. 

“Kim Jin-seok used to work at Cheonhwa Pharmaceuticals.” 

“He worked at the Daejeon Research Institute. He was diligent but showed some obsessive tendencies, and recently, he clashed frequently with his superiors.” 

“When you put it like that, it sounds so ordinary. If clashing with your boss meant flipping out, every office worker in the country would go crazy every Monday.” 

Lee Haekyung pinched the bridge of his nose at Seo Dojin’s choice of words. 

“What are you trying to say?”

Seo Dojin spoke as if he had been waiting for this moment. 

“I’m uneasy.” 

“About what?” 

“On the day Yoon Taeha returned, an Esper who coincidentally worked at Cheonhwa Pharmaceuticals attacked Yeouido, took her hostage, and put on a show. Then, the grandson of the chairman of Cheonhwa Group submitted an application—specifically as a guide.” 

“Are you saying it’s not a coincidence?” 

“How would I know that?” 

Seo Dojin ran his palm over his tanned, thick neck. 

“Gaia predicted a 75% match rate between Yoon Taeha and Cheon Geon-young...” 

“That’s a high number for Taeha.” 

“I know. She barely surpassed 50% with that person.” 

There was no need to ask who “that person” was. He knew all too well—and it pained him. 

Yoon Taeha’s first dedicated guide. 

If he hadn’t already died, he might have been killed once by each of the two Espers. 

“Do you think he approached her intentionally, like that guy?” 

“In my gut, yes.” 

“We can’t do anything without evidence.” 

“Yoon Taeha is holding back on words, which makes her even more suspicious. Normally, when she gets assigned temporary guides through rotation, she becomes overly talkative and dramatic. But this time? She hasn’t said a word.” 

“It’s been a while since Taeha had a dedicated guide, so maybe she’s nervous. Technically, this is only her second one.” 

“There’s never been a good outcome when things are tied to Cheonhwa. You know that.” 

ARK was officially an organization created to protect the rights of both Espers and guides. 

However, when conflicts arose between the two groups, ARK implicitly tended to side with the Espers—as long as they weren’t the ones committing crimes. 

This was in stark contrast to how most governments and their Esper management agencies (in Korea’s case, the Protection Bureau) almost always sided with the guides during disputes. 

The contribution of ARK to allowing Espers—who were once treated as disposable weapons—to live somewhat human lives could not be ignored. 

On the flip side, this also meant ARK was a group disliked by those who had once used Espers like disposable parts. 

One of the most notorious figures who had fueled his wealth by exploiting Espers during the dark period was Cheon Sung-beom. 

Chairman Cheon, himself an Esper, was infamous for viewing Espers as mere kindling to clean up the world’s filth. 

That was how the sparks grew—consuming someone else’s breath, fiercely and mercilessly. 

“Chairman Cheon has effectively retired.” 

“So, do you think the company’s atmosphere will change?” 

“We’ll have to wait and see.” 

“The son’s greed is worse than the chairman’s. And because he’s an ordinary person, it’s even worse.” 

Seo Dojin openly expressed his hostility. 

“He’s just stubbornly clinging to life.” 

“Taeha needs guiding right now. That’s the most important thing.” 

“That’s true, but...” 

“The blackout has already happened twice.” 

Seo Dojin’s face hardened instantly. Lee Haekyung knew Seo Dojin had prepared himself to deal with Yoon Taeha’s temper later. 

“Didn’t she say it only happened once?” 

“It must’ve come briefly while handling the rift.” 

Seo Dojin clenched his lips tightly, cursing inwardly. His emotions were written all over his face, prompting Lee Haekyung to sigh deeply. 

After a moment of gripping his already short hair, Seo Dojin leaned in and whispered, wary of being overheard: 

“Aren’t you worried?” 

“Worried about what?” 

“I mean, it’s good that she’s receiving guiding from Cheon Geon-young. Her health is important. But...” 

Lee Haekyung spoke with a tone that suggested he understood something. 

“You’re afraid she’ll transfer her attachment to him.” 

“No, it’s not fear—” 

Seo Dojin admitted that he was being petty. Lee Haekyung wore an expression that said he already knew everything. 

“To be honest, I am scared. I know how attached she gets to her guides. And doesn’t Cheon Geon-young’s shiny, polished face scream ‘Yoon Taeha’s type’?” 

Lee Haekyung laughed as if finding the idea absurd. Seo Dojin, wearing a puzzled look, pressed for an answer. 

“What’s... so funny?” 

“It seems like you’re the one being overprotective. Didn’t you tell me off for spoiling her?” 

“Hyung.”

“Have a little faith in Taeha.” 

Lee Haekyung rose from his seat and glanced out the window. 

“She’s all grown up now.” 

The fully-grown Yoon Taeha flung a man much sturdier than herself onto the bed. 

Cheon Geon-young, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling, briefly touched his neck. His once-neat tie was now askew. The latex mattress had provided some impact, but not without discomfort. 

“...You sure like it rough.” 

Yoon Taeha, busy checking the hideout’s security, replied casually: 

“You said I could leave whenever I wanted.” 

“I didn’t think you’d leap this far.” 

Her words weren’t empty. B-rank teleportation wasn’t true teleportation in her eyes. Cheon Geon-young couldn’t hide his astonishment at her ability to jump across several buildings in one bound. He had never encountered such power during cooperative operations with Espers at the academy. 

“You must live in a much narrower world than us, Miss Yoon Taeha.” 

“Teleportation is the only thing I truly enjoy. It’s an ability with no downsides—only perks.” 

Cheon Geon-young sat up and surveyed the space where he lay. 

The interior of the unoccupied high-rise building on the outskirts of Seoul was desolate. 

There was a large bed, a single-person sofa, and an old television facing the sofa. Two adjacent walls were entirely made of glass, but there wasn’t a single curtain hung, leaving the surroundings fully visible. Likewise, anyone outside could peer inside clearly. Thankfully, the area hadn’t attracted many residents—if there had been neighbors, they might have exchanged greetings morning and evening. 

Through the windows, several unfinished buildings were visible in the distance. 

“Did you fall victim to an investment scam?” 

Cheon Geon-young asked innocently. Yoon Taeha, who had been tapping the floor with her foot, widened her eyes. 

“If I say yes, will you recommend a trendy hotspot? I heard Cheonhwa owns a lot of buildings.” 

“Do you want something?” 

“If I do, would you give it to me?” 

His expression suggested he had nothing to lose. She found it exasperating. Why does someone so carefree go through so much trouble? 

With feigned indifference, Yoon Taeha got straight to the point. 

“I’m curious about something other than the building. Let’s talk about that.” 

She plopped down onto the sofa facing the bed. 

“No one’s listening, no one’s watching. You can badmouth the chairman all you want here—no one will know. If anyone tries to intrude, I’ll handle it myself.” 

“Is this like an anonymous forum?” 

“It’s a bit bleak, but at least there’s electricity. The air conditioning works too.” 

She pointed to the system air conditioner, which was simultaneously blowing out dust and cold air. 

“How romantic.” 

“...Normally, in a place like this, wouldn’t you worry about your own life first? If others can’t get in, it also means it’s hard to get out.” 

“I’m already being lenient with you. And you know I plan to keep watching until our conversation ends.” 

So he knows I’m giving him some leeway. 

“Let’s talk about the people who almost became my guides.” 

Yoon Taeha pulled the sofa slightly forward, crossed her legs, and rested her chin on her hand.