HLSEBT - 22

22. The Spark Grew Like That 3

Vice Chairman Cheon Beom-Joon stood in front of his father’s door after a long time. A doctor carefully closed the door behind him and, upon seeing the vice chairman, hastily bowed his head.

“How is Chairman Cheon?”

“The same as before.”

Beom-Joon dismissed the bowing doctor and entered the room. The air inside was thick with an acrid, smoky scent. On the massive bed lay Chairman Cheon.

The two doctors and nurses who had been attending to him bowed deeply upon seeing Beom-Joon and quietly excused themselves.

Beside the bed sat someone. To be precise, only one person was permitted by Chairman Cheon to occupy that seat.

“This vulgar stench—when will it finally be cleared out?”

A middle-aged woman with a straight back turned to look at Cheon Beom-Joon. Her elegant features marked her as Bae Hee-Joo, the second wife of Chairman Cheon.

“Mother.”

All three of Chairman Cheon’s sons were born to his first wife, an ordinary human who was neither an Esper nor a Guide. She had died of illness many years ago.

After her death, Chairman Cheon remarried—a Guide this time.

Bae Hee-Joo was a Guide with extraordinary abilities, the second mistress of CH who had safeguarded the chairman’s twilight years.

“Is the guiding going well?”

Cheon Beom-Joon sneered at Bae Hee-Joo, who was around his age.

In public, he never hesitated to call her “Mother.” 

But within the privacy of their home, far from prying eyes, he wasn’t the type to uphold such pretenses of civility.

Bae Hee-Joo responded in a low, even voice.

“You must stop your filial impiety if you want your father to recover.”

“You seem particularly sour today. Did Father have another nightmare?”

“You still think of Guides as mere shamans, don’t you?”

Her tone remained flat, devoid of inflection. Her pale, bony hands cradled Chairman Cheon’s hand, which was blackened and decaying like a dead branch.

The hand of a corpse clutching a piece of wood.

Whenever Beom-Joon saw it, the same thought came to mind.

“Look at this room, Mother.”

Cheon Beom-Joon only called her “Mother” when he truly wanted to mock her.

He spread his arms wide and gestured angrily toward the bizarre contents of his father’s room.

“If this isn’t a shrine, what is it?”

The horn of a dead monster.

Dark, writhing plants that hissed faintly.

Statues carved from an unknown mineral that shimmered brilliantly under the light.

These were artifacts from another world, brought in by the dying Chairman Cheon in a desperate attempt to prolong his life and health.

“You’re the high priestess of this place. ‘Chairman’s wife’? I’ve heard that title enough already.”

Cheon Beom-Joon positioned himself opposite Bae Hee-Joo. By now, he had grown accustomed to looking down at the father he once revered.

An old, sickly man breathing through an oxygen mask. Once a great hero who sacrificed everything for his country, now reduced to a pitiful state, dependent on his second wife, the Guide, to keep him alive.

Cheon Beom-Joon knew all too well the lengths his father had gone to cling to life.

As he gazed at his father, he felt grateful that he was not an Esper.

“How much longer can he hold on?”

“I’ve already told you—he’ll last until you stop being unfilial.”

“After all the money you’ve siphoned off. Is there anything left to squeeze out?”

“Do you have something you’d like to give?”

Bae Hee-Joo gently stroked the back of Chairman Cheon’s hand as she whispered her words.

“If you give me the company, I’ll gladly take it.”

“You’re losing your mind.”

“Don’t insult your father, Beom-Joon.”

The vice chairman picked up a stack of documents from the bedside table and hurled them at Bae Hee-Joo. Though the sharp edges of the papers cut into her cheek, she did not let go of Chairman Cheon’s hand. Instead, she cradled it even more tenderly, as if protecting a fragile relic.

“Find out where Father’s hidden blacklist is. Quickly.”

It wasn’t just a book or a register—it could be an unexpected object, or perhaps even a person.

Cheon Beom-Joon knew how instrumental it had been in transforming a small mercenary company into a vast empire.

One of the reasons he hadn’t yet ascended to the chairman’s seat was the existence of the blacklist. Without it, Chairman Cheon’s loyalists wouldn’t rally.

〈So, you haven’t handed over everything to your son yet?〉

The aging heroes of a bygone era often mocked Cheon Beom-Joon with those words.

With a subtle smile that evoked the mocking of old heroes, Bae Hee-Joo spoke.

“To be honest, I don’t know much either. Even after entering Chairman Cheon’s dreams hundreds of times…”

Her voice gave the word “dreams” an otherworldly quality. It was smooth and polished but devoid of emotion—impossible to grasp.

“It seems our chairman truly treasures it. He’s hidden it very well.”

“…”

“Isn’t that right, dear?”

She leaned closer to Chairman Cheon, whispering sweetly. Cheon Beom-Joon glared at the scene with disgust.

“You’re insane.”

“The eldest son visits most often, though. The youngest doesn’t even show his face.”

“Cheon Dong-Woo can’t come here.”

“The second son was quite beloved too.”

Bae Hee-Joo mentioned Cheon Seo-Wan, Cheon Geon-young’s father. But Vice Chairman Cheon no longer fell for such provocations.

“If you miss your dead child so much, why don’t you hurry up and join him?”

“I’ll pass that along to Father.”

“Make sure you do.”

Cheon Beom-Joon stepped close to Bae Hee-Joo, clenching his fists as if trying to force her compliance.

“And find it in Father’s unconscious mind! Whatever it is, wherever it’s hidden!”

“The eldest son’s greed… it’s causing our chairman so much suffering.”

Only after his threatening gesture did Bae Hee-Joo let out a faint smile. Cheon Beom-Joon muttered darkly:

“That’s why I’m keeping both of you alive.”

He kicked over a flowerpot leaking corrosive liquid, creating a deafening explosion. Yet, no one came running. Just before he left the room, Bae Hee-Joo’s voice stopped him.

“Have you spoken with Orca?”

He turned slightly. Bae Hee-Joo gazed into the air like a priest receiving divine revelation.

“The green sea of the anarchic zone. There’s something there. Something the chairman cherished. Their territory, after all.”

“Thanks to your advice, dozens of Espers sent by our company died just days ago.”

“Did you care about that?”

Her voice carried a hint of mockery, though she wasn’t asking out of genuine curiosity.

“They’re just Espers. If they die for humans, it’s an honor.”

“…You Guides really say some outrageous things.”

“Use the orcas of the dead sea.”

Instead of deriving answers through objective information, he had to delve into the subconscious of a dying old man. 

Vice Chairman Cheon resented his predicament—needing the power of what he despised most to obtain what he desired most.

“Next time, you’d better have the answer I want.”

BANG! The door slammed shut with a force that made the entire room tremble. Still, Bae Hee-Joo didn’t let go of Chairman Cheon’s hand.

---

The secret deal between the two peers had concluded.

Yoon Tae-Ha was teleporting Cheon Geon-young to the destination he requested. She was, after all, a psychic with impeccable after-service.

True to his training as a cadet from the Agent Academy, Cheon Geon-young showed no fear when moving between the towering rooftops of skyscrapers. 

At first, he had been startled, but only briefly. 

She deliberately avoided low buildings, choosing only the tallest and most perilous structures, hopping between them like a game of Brumable. 

Many people abandoned their guides during this phase, overwhelmed by fear. Yoon Tae-Ha accepted their decisions without hesitation. 

Real combat was always harsher. If someone cried out of fear while climbing a monster, there was little she could do. 

Would you rather I take you home? What will you do?

At least Cheon Geon-young seemed to have virtually no fear of heights.

“Not pretending to be brave, are you?”

On the helipad of an ultra-high-rise building, Yoon Tae-Ha asked. The two had paused briefly for her rest.

The sky was turning navy blue. Below, lights began to multiply, resembling swarms of insects moving in clusters, their red tails merging into streams.

As Cheon Geon-young gazed at the increasingly congested riverside bridge, he shook his head.

“Jumping off is far less frightening than this.”

“You have parachutes when jumping from helicopters or airships.”

He answered as if stating the obvious.

“There’s something safer than a parachute right here.”

Cheon Geon-young looked down at his hand, held securely by the Esper’s grip, and gave it a light shake. 

“Why should I be afraid?” 

This was refreshingly unexpected. Most people considered her a dangerous element rather than a safeguard. Being likened to a high-performance parachute wasn’t unpleasant at all. 

“Not worried about holes?” 

“I heard patching them up is part of your job.” 

“It’s an old model, so it’ll be tough work. There are holes everywhere—it’s been used roughly.” 

“Then the parachute won’t leave me until everything’s patched up.” 

He glanced at her. Even in the sweltering summer breeze, the man showed no sign of discomfort. 

“That’s all I need.” 

Rephrasing the idea of using her like this could almost be considered clever if it were a skill. 

--- 

With his partner’s help, Cheon Geon-young safely arrived at his desired location. The moment they landed, Yoon Tae-Ha released his hand and vanished like the wind without so much as a farewell. 

Only Cheon Geon-young remained behind, left standing awkwardly on the street. 

It felt like being a common citizen waiting for a superhero who refused to reveal their identity. At least he hadn’t waved goodbye—that was something of a relief. 

He lingered for a moment, glancing around. He didn’t expect to find her, but not even a single strand of her hair was visible. 

In the pitch-black night sky, reminiscent of her dark locks, she would likely remain unfound even if he searched. His vision couldn’t match hers. 

She seemed capable of reading paths left by the sun. 

Whether it was the crimson sky painted by the setting sun, the navy-blue expanse where city lights outshone sunlight, or even the black void that swallowed all color—she appeared to see secret routes etched across the entire city. 

Her eyes, brimming with vitality, read those hidden trails—a stark contrast from when she dismissed men who scrutinized her three times over in elevators. 

Did she spend her whole day flying like this? 

Though it had only been half a day, Cheon Geon-young now understood why Vice Chairman Cheon coveted her abilities. 

If someone so free in movement wielded the power to attack while holding another person… 

The limits of what she could achieve seemed unimaginable. 

Thinking of her—perhaps possessing stats similar to or surpassing Lee Hyuk-Kyung’s—he headed home. 

As he opened the door, the lights flickered on, welcoming him back. Simultaneously, Cheon Geon-young silently retrieved the pistol hidden in the shoe cabinet. 

There was someone else’s presence inside.