HLSEBT - 3

A massive A-class Rift had opened in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, unleashing a gigantic marine monster. Since they couldn’t just send anyone into such a dangerous situation, she was called upon.

“The people there are already going crazy wanting to see you.”

“They don’t want to see me—they want to dissect me. I’m a rare specimen, after all.”

Are you laughing? You know even the boss isn’t an exception, right?

Thanks to her sharp tongue, Lee Haegyeong laughed so hard he had to press his hand against his forehead. His dimples, carved deep from smiling, seemed especially pronounced today.

They say there are enough women who’d happily die for those dimples to fill up Bamseom Island.

As Yoon Taeha watched his perfectly tailored suit, she recalled a recent survey she’d seen.

Wasn’t he ranked number one among Korea’s most desirable single men in their 30s?

With his celebrity-level good looks, gentle voice, and sweet smile, he was flawless on the outside—and to top it off, he was S-Class.

Rumors swirled that he was not only exceptionally talented, having secured the position of director of ARK’s Korean office at such a young age, but also humble and considerate in personality.

Even a shojo manga protagonist would get roasted for being this over-the-top.

That was how the public viewed him. Yoon Taeha agreed with half of it but disagreed with the other half.

“Got any plans for your vacation?”

“I just want to stay home, watch some dramas, catch up on movies… maybe hang out with the team, go cycling by the Han River…”

“Sounds like I’m not part of your vacation plans.”

Yoon Taeha, who had been rummaging through the office fridge for a soda, turned around with a sour expression as if she’d bitten into an unripe persimmon.

“…What?”

“I’m hurt. After long missions, you used to make dinner plans with me first thing. Guess you’re all grown up now.”

If the other female employees at the center had overheard this, they probably would’ve fainted on the spot. Some might have even started searching for wedding photo locations.

But Yoon Taeha simply poured the soda into a glass with an indifferent face.

This was just one of Lee Haegyeong’s many routines for teasing her like a younger sibling. She decided to play along, sliding the glass of soda toward him with a soft clink.

“Then how about some ice, since you miss me so much?”

Clink clink.

No special magical incantation was needed. In an instant, Lee Haegyeong floated a few pieces of ice into the glass—heart-shaped, star-shaped, diamond-shaped crystals. The forms varied.

A freezing ability user.

Lee Haegyeong was a man who, like her, possessed a power that was as beautiful as it was functional. The customer smiled in satisfaction.

“The ice machine’s still working great.”

“You’re the only one who consistently uses me like this. I don’t even do it for the president.”

“I’ll take that as an honor.”

“Drink up first. We’ll talk about your vacation after you finish that.”

Yoon Taeha held the glass like a mug of hot coffee and quietly sipped the soda.

A comfortable silence filled the high-rise office with the best view.

The man in front of her was one of the few people she could interact with so casually. Likewise, Lee Haegyeong relaxed somewhat in her presence. They had known each other since childhood.

Both had lost their parents and awakened high-level abilities, so they grew up in the same facility.

Though there was an age gap between them, and they didn’t attend the same classes, they quickly became close friends.

* * *

Surprisingly, it was Yoon Taeha who made the first move.

At the time, five-year-old Taeha had an obsession with frozen treats. So when she heard that a new Esper with freezing abilities had arrived, her eyes sparkled with excitement.

She was the first to approach Lee Haegyeong, who still acted shy and skittish around people like a newborn rabbit.

“Do you know how to make shaved ice?”

“…What? Go away.”

“But you’re the Ice Oppa! Can we eat some shaved ice together?”

Thirteen-year-old Haegyeong was wary of this strange little girl, but there was no stopping Taeha. No matter how much he pushed her away, she kept clinging to him until she finally got the first taste of his homemade shaved ice.

The red bean paste, condensed milk, and jelly were things Taeha would sneak from the kitchen shelves using telekinesis.

This mischievous five-year-old thief was surprisingly sweet and endearing, which greatly helped Haegyeong adjust to life at the facility.

Taeha called him “Ice Oppa.” He viewed himself as a walking popsicle factory and could only sigh deeply in resignation whenever she approached.

At first, it was Taeha’s one-sided pursuit, but over time, the roles reversed. As time passed, Haegyeong began to take on the role of Taeha’s caretaker, following her around instead.

The way Taeha addressed him evolved from “Ice Oppa” to “Haegyeong Oppa,” then simply “Oppa,” and eventually just “Haegyeong.” In formal settings, she respectfully called him “Boss” or “Director.”

Still, he seemed to see her as that same little kid who came to him craving shaved ice.

Taeha was well aware of this. She didn’t particularly like it. I’ve been an adult for years now—why does he still treat me like a minor?

If there was one thing she wanted to erase, it was the lingering image in Haegyeong’s mind of her as that snot-nosed five-year-old.

* * *

“Let’s talk about the vacation again.”

Taeha solemnly broached the subject after quietly finishing her soda.

Haegyeong, who had been casually skimming through a report, looked up. With a gesture that said, “Go ahead, let’s hear it,” he clasped his hands together on the table, ready to listen.

Taeha cleared her throat.

“I’ve worked like a beast, you know. I’ve been sent on overseas trips more than anyone else relative to my seniority. You know that, right?”

“Of course, I do.”

“It’s not like I just want to slack off. While I was in Hawaii, I met an American S-Class Esper named Skylar—a kid who’s really good with computers. He’s participating in a new meditation program developed by headquarters, and apparently, it’s incredibly effective.”

“I’ve heard about that. The program Dr. Moon also served as an advisory board member for, right?”

“Yes. But to join, I’ll need to clear my schedule for a bit. Since it’s a productive endeavor, I think the Audit Department will understand…”

Haegyeong smiled faintly. Was that a yes or a no?

The Haegyeong that Taeha knew was the fastest and most precise decision-maker in the world. If he thought it was fine, he would have approved it immediately upon her first request.

But this vague smile—it felt like he was trying to dodge the issue. There must be another meaning behind it.

She started thinking hard, completely forgetting once again that her rolling eyes were all too visible to him.

“Yoon Taeha.”

“Yes?”

“Don’t make excuses. Just say what you really mean.”

…Did he figure it out?

“Since when did you become so interested in meditation?”

Busted. That report Haegyeong was reading earlier—it probably contained information about me. Her eyes darted sideways.

“You don’t actually want to rest, do you?”

“……”

“You’re in bad shape, and you didn’t want me to know.”

The temperature in the office, which had been comfortably cool just moments ago, now seemed to plummet. She fidgeted nervously with the buttons on her floral-patterned shirt. For the first time in a while, Lee Haegyeong’s gaze turned icy.

“The results from the health check at headquarters came back.”

“They’re already here?”

“I requested them early.”

He was truly upset. Yoon Taeha clasped her hands together humbly. She had planned to take her vacation and disappear before the results arrived, but things weren’t going as she hoped. As usual.

“Is it… that bad? I’ve been feeling fine lately.”

“It’s the kind of rot that starts inside and takes longer to detect.”

She gnawed on her lips like someone whose secret had been exposed.

“It’s been five years since you last had a dedicated Guide.”

Yoon Taeha hadn’t had a dedicated Guide since she turned eighteen.

And yet, the fact that she was still able to think clearly and live among people was considered nothing short of miraculous by some.

“This can’t go on.”

It was an incredibly rare situation for a top-tier Esper to reject having a Guide.

Considering how the upper-tier Espers of the previous generation were treated, this was even more astonishing.

Back when various medications weren’t yet widely available, they were treated like dogs in a fighting pit.

Things improved slightly after suppressants to control outbursts and painkillers to alleviate chronic pain were developed.

But even those advancements didn’t apply to the highest-tier Espers.

Fortunately, Yoon Taeha had managed to survive until the age of twenty-three without wearing restraints too often.

“You’re not a standard case, so the problem is even bigger.”

“I’m taking my medication every day.”

“That stuff barely works on us. You can fool Seo Do-jin, but you can’t fool me.”

“……”

“This isn’t just my opinion—it’s a recommendation from headquarters. Though calling it a ‘recommendation’ is just sugarcoating what’s essentially…”

Haegyeong pushed the report toward her, his voice heavy with unspoken words.

The stiff paper, sharp enough to cut a finger, slowly slid into Taeha’s hands. The corners of her mouth, which she had forced into a smile, began to droop.

She wasn’t an expert, but she wasn’t so naive as to misunderstand the warnings about her condition written in the report.

“Taeha.”

The contents of the report were clear. Amidst the tangled graphs, misfortune reared its head like a snake.

“I don’t have the strength to attend your funeral.”

It seemed the expiration date on her miracle had finally arrived.

* * *

After leaving the office, Yoon Taeha walked very slowly.

She hadn’t been completely blindsided. Lately, her body had felt unusually heavy.

There were frequent instances where the sensation in her palms disappeared after waking up, and she had collapsed dozens of times while walking, overcome by the feeling of her organs pressing against her throat.

Chronic use of painkillers—drugs not even given lightly to beasts—had caused parts of her body that shouldn’t have been affected to deteriorate.

Her limits were approaching. Though she had tried to ignore it, her body had been screaming the truth all along.

Yoon Taeha had grown up in a shelter for high-risk Espers. From the age of seventeen, she had learned how to write a will, and she had updated it every year since.

It meant she had been more prepared than others.

And yet, her racing heart and the way her arms and legs felt like they were barely keeping up as she walked… 

Had she secretly hoped it would be a distant future? That she could hold on for much longer?

As she wandered aimlessly, she eventually came across the common lounge where she always spent her time when not on missions. 

There, Seo Do-jin, who had been talking with a subordinate, noticed Yoon Taeha first and approached her. 

“Did your meeting with the Director go well?” 

Though his question was cheerful, Seo Do-jin seemed to sense something before she even answered. 

In an instant, his expression hardened, and he led her to a quiet corner where fewer people gathered. A few Espers who recognized Taeha began whispering among themselves. 

In a way, she was the second most famous person after Lee Haegyeong. 

Ignoring the murmurs, Seo Do-jin asked again. 

“I said, did the meeting go well?” 

“……” 

“Did you get scolded?” 

The same question he used to ask her as a child made Taeha laugh in disbelief. She was grateful that no tears came, at least not now. 

“No.” 

“Then why do you look so down? You’ve got the face of someone who just got chewed out by the Director.” 

“I need something. But I think it’ll be hard to find.” 

“A bank account filled with zeros? Didn’t we solve that with this last mission?” 

She knew he was deliberately throwing out a random response. Nodding slightly, she replied. 

“I need a Guide.” 

It was time to admit it. 

“Someone rich, who’s also a good shot.”