HLSEBT - 31

31. Grade B is too strong 3

Meanwhile, Cheon Geon-young visited the principal’s office that evening to avoid drawing attention from the other students. As he was officially a support agent sent by the Center, he needed to meet with the principal and gather information.

The principal was a kindly-looking middle-aged man who greeted him politely. He was one of the collaborators aware of this mission.

“I’m truly sorry to have to request reinforcements from Yeouido again. I feel ashamed.”

“My name is Cheon Geon-young.”

“I’ve heard you’re an exceptionally skilled agent—from Agent Seo Do-jin, in fact.”

As Cheon Geon-young took his seat, the principal continued, expressing deep regret and taking full responsibility for the current situation.

Cheon Geon-young observed him carefully, noting the principal’s overly humble demeanor. The principal fidgeted nervously, interlocking his fingers alternately with his right hand on top, then his left. He also had a habit of scratching the back of his right hand with his left fingers.

“It seems there’s a broker among the guide students encouraging the use of amplifiers. You’ve probably heard…?”

“I’ve confirmed the names of two suspects.”

“Yes, both are highly talented individuals, but unfortunately, they’ve recently shown suspicious behavior. They’ve been closely associated with espers suspected of using the drugs.”

“What about the staff?”

“As you know, all employees undergo thorough verification before being hired. Some may be a bit eccentric, but their identities are reliable.”

The principal once again berated himself.

While the principal launched into a lengthy speech about his efforts to purify the school, Cheon Geon-young casually scanned the room. It was an ordinary space, unremarkable in every way. When his gaze landed on the large bookshelf directly opposite the desk, the principal cleared his throat and asked:

“May I ask if there are any new directives from headquarters…?”

The principal paused to sip his tea, which he had been drinking while talking. Cheon Geon-young, who hadn’t touched the teacup placed before him, responded in a firm voice:

“I’ve been instructed to investigate the source through which the drugs entered the school alongside you, Principal. The deployment of a new agent to the guide class is also part of this effort.”

“Ah, the source. Of course, it’s unlikely the students themselves brought in the drugs.”

“My task is to approach the broker and uncover the distribution network of the drugs.”

“Please, drive out those despicable criminals from our shelter!”

Cheon Geon-young politely requested the principal’s cooperation, assuring him not to worry as he patted his chest confidently.

---

Back in the guide-exclusive dormitory, Cheon Geon-young began unpacking. He organized the issued uniforms and activity clothes, then reviewed the instructions sent by the Center.

His role in this mission was to create confusion.

The Center had sent two agents but publicly revealed only one for a reason: they didn’t fully trust the agents or personnel who had previously investigated the case.

It was hard to believe such a case—far from dismantling a major crime cartel—had dragged on for so long. There was even suspicion that the first agent sent by the company might have been swayed by the existing dealers.

Cheon Geon-young, as the officially announced support agent, would draw the attention of the operation’s targets, whose numbers were still unclear. Meanwhile, Yoon Tae-ha, who had transferred in with a profile that barely listed half her abilities, would move freely without reporting to anyone…

He too had a vested interest in successfully completing the mission.

Everything depended on timing. For now, his priority was to step into Yoon Tae-ha’s orbit. Whether for guiding purposes or his own objectives, he needed to get closer to her.

After finishing the mundane task of unpacking, the sky grew dark.

Shelters were built away from civilian residential areas to prevent potential accidents. The West Shelter, constructed on land devastated by a massive rift ten years ago, was even more isolated, with no nearby homes.

Thus, the only lights visible beyond the dormitory windows were the ones encircling the athletic field and the faint glow of the distant auditorium.

It was eerily quiet—a surprising contrast to its proximity to Seoul. Occasionally, the distant echoes of students’ shouts from the auditorium reverberated like ghostly cries.

Then, something tapped against the balcony’s glass window.

Tododok. Again. Todok.

Cheon Geon-young quietly picked up the bottle of vitamins a classmate had practically shoved into his hands as a “gift.”

Suruuk. Without him touching it, the balcony door slid open.

“…”

A cola-flavored lollipop floated through the air, approaching like a sweet intruder. Suspended perfectly in midair as though held by an invisible hand, it stopped precisely in front of him.

It gave a brief shake, as if urging him to take it.

Rising from his seat, he grasped the lollipop and stepped onto the balcony.

Behind the dormitory stood several sizable trees. His room was on the third floor, and the thick branches of the trees cast dense shadows just outside his balcony.

In the darkness, Cheon Geon-young spotted a familiar silhouette and relaxed. Truthfully, his tension had already eased when the lollipop made its sudden appearance—he’d yet to encounter an assassin who delivered death threats via candy.

“Hello.”

Yoon Tae-ha stood on a tree branch, her cheeks as red as apples. Earlier in the day, she had complained about how uncomfortable her tie was, but now she wore the dormitory’s activity uniform instead. Her slender legs were clearly visible beneath the loose shorts, and her glasses—presumably left behind in the dorm—were nowhere to be seen.

She asked in a soft voice: 

“Can I come in?” 

He nodded and opened the balcony door wider, momentarily forgetting how skilled she was at teleportation. 

“Why open the door? Are you inviting bugs in?” 

The esper, now seated in the chair by the desk, flicked his chin dismissively. He chuckled and closed the balcony door, drawing the curtains shut perfectly. 

“Did they confiscate your phone because of the demerit points?” 

Cheon Geon-young teased. She pulled her phone out of the pocket of her activity uniform to show him. 

“It’s fine.” 

“Is there something you need to say face-to-face?” 

“Not yet… nothing that important.” 

Once inside the room, Yoon Tae-ha finally seemed to relax. She fanned herself by pulling at the collar of her short-sleeved shirt. Without a word, Cheon Geon-young lowered the air conditioner’s temperature. 

“You’re flushed.” 

It seemed she hadn’t noticed her own appearance yet. She pressed both hands against her cheeks to gauge their heat. 

“…I do feel a bit warm.” 

Our girl tends to run a little hot. 

Dr. Moon’s advice came to mind—he had mentioned that espers with higher body temperatures often carried something cool with them. As far as he knew, temperature regulation was a critical factor for espers. 

Cheon Geon-young grabbed a towel and stepped into the bathroom. 

“What are you doing?” 

She asked, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he soaked the towel in cold water, wrung it out thoroughly, and handed it to her. Yoon Tae-ha accepted the cool, soft towel with a grateful expression. 

“This is touching.” 

“Really, over something like this?” 

“I’m softer-hearted than I look.” 

Now that she had dropped the formal speech, as the AI had suggested, her way of speaking became more relaxed and unrestrained. 

With strangers or people she didn’t know well, she used polite and courteous language—kind but slightly awkward, as she had in their first meeting at the conference room. 

It was amusing to hear the occasional sincere casual remark slip through her formal tone. But Cheon Geon-young preferred this side of her. 

Smiling mischievously, she pressed the cool towel against her right cheek, as if soothing a toothache. 

“It’s a good thing my soft heart isn’t too obvious.” 

“Teleporting too much isn’t good for your body, you know.” 

“I pushed myself once to measure the shortest time it takes to traverse the entire shelter. It’s bigger than I thought, so it was worth testing it out beforehand.” 

Cheon Geon-young sat on the bed opposite her, waiting for her to cool down. 

Her hair was neatly tied up in a high ponytail, revealing her delicate neck and shoulder line. Her skin was so translucent and pale that the flush from physical exertion made her appear healthily normal. 

Will guiding really improve her health? 

He suddenly found himself questioning the utility of the power he supposedly possessed. 

“Ah… this feels nice.” 

Yoon Tae-ha murmured softly, still holding the cold towel to her cheek. 

“Want something to drink?” 

“I’m fine.” 

She removed the towel. Her face, much paler than when he’d met her at the Center, broke into a faint smile. 

“Why were you holding that bottle of vitamins earlier?” 

Her sharp eyesight was far beyond that of an ordinary student; she had noticed the bottle even before entering the room, silently placing it down. Cheon Geon-young answered honestly. 

“Just in case.” 

“Can something like that even be used as a weapon?” 

“Better than having nothing at all.” 

She looked slightly impressed. 

“…I guess there’s no need to worry then.” 

After pondering something briefly, she raised her head as if she had something to share. Her eyes sparkled like stars embedded in the night sky. 

“I’ve already racked up 40 demerit points.” 

While demerit points were typically a punishment rather than a reward, in this mission, they might as well have been medals of honor. 

“At 100 points, I can join the service crew, right?”

She nodded. 

“At this rate, my entry in the shortest time is guaranteed. I’ll go interview the longest-term user.” 

One student, suspected of being the longest-running amplifier user, had been disciplined and sent to the service crew after losing control during a sparring session in class and nearly beating another student to death. 

The Center considered this a side effect of the amplifiers. 

Once assigned to the service crew, students were removed from all regular classes and subjected only to training aimed at elevating their spirits and correcting their mindset. Ordinary students were not allowed to interact with those in the service crew, as their placement there was itself a form of punishment. 

“It’s called something different here, but the North Shelter had something similar. We called it ‘prison.’“ 

“Much more straightforward.” 

“What was the official name again? It was so long I forgot. They crammed every positive-sounding word into it.” 

“I doubt it’s just a place for meditation.” 

Yoon Tae-ha gave a subtle smile—a smile that seemed seasoned, almost like that of a crafty prisoner.