HLSEBT - 40

40. The Blue Uniform 4

To achieve that, she needed to catch the eye of someone observing from the shadows while stirring up just enough trouble. 

Seo Dojin, who had been listening to Yoon Taeha’s report, nodded. 

“You’ve been doing well.” 

Her expression twitched slightly at the lukewarm praise. Then she remembered something Kim Soochan had said that had stuck with her. 

“About the drugs we obtained—did the detailed analysis come back? Is it only detectable in blood?” 

“Ah, that. Unfortunately, yes, we need blood.” 

“Then we can’t discreetly screen users with a kit or anything. You can’t secretly draw blood, after all.” 

“It’ll take time. That’s why they’ve been pulling a lot of late nights in the research wing lately.” 

“They’re kind of pitiful when you think about it.” 

The regular visitor to the research wing felt a pang of sympathy for them. 

By now, the car had traveled far enough that the shelter was no longer in sight. Yoon Taeha instructed the car to pull over to the shoulder. Seo Dojin, who had been carefully reading through the letters the students gave him, turned his head toward her. 

After calmly organizing her thoughts, she spoke. 

“The detection kits are important, but ask the research wing to prioritize developing an antidote first.” 

“An antidote? To reverse the addiction?” 

“Yeah.” 

“For you to take?” 

“Even if I increase the concentration of their drug tenfold, it won’t be as potent as what I normally take.” 

Seo Dojin immediately frowned. Yoon Taeha ignored it and continued. 

“There’s that one student who went off the radar. The naive kid who handed the drug over to a senior agent.” 

“Gwon Min-gi.” 

“I heard he was sent to the volunteer squad...” 

You didn’t forget what happened to Gwon Min-gi, did you? 

From outside the building, Kang Jinho’s expression couldn’t be seen, but the weight of the warning seemed significant. After Kim Soochan left, Kang Jinho made a loud noise by breaking something, shouting as he did so. 

Kang Jinho seemed afraid. 

Of ending up like Gwon Min-gi. 

“It might not be going off the radar—it could be a gag order.” 

What state was he in right now? Surely not relaxing on a comfortable bed, soothing his mind with classical music. Definitely not. 

Seo Dojin gave a firm response. 

“I’ll make sure to request it. What about delivery?” 

“The sooner the better, but send it through someone trustworthy. I don’t trust anyone in this school entirely.” 

Sighing at how she manipulated people, Seo Dojin watched as Yoon Taeha prepared to return to the shelter by opening the car door. 

“Dr. Moon asked me to check on your condition.” 

The hand that had been resting on the door handle slid off. Yoon Taeha smiled as if she didn’t have a care in the world. 

“My condition’s been great lately.” 

“Is Cheon Geonyoung unconsciously guiding her remotely or something?” 

“Could be. Or maybe it’s natural recovery.” 

“We’re not at an age where we can rely on luck. Your self-recovery ability has dropped significantly.” 

Yoon Taeha waved her hand dismissively, as if telling him to stop nagging. 

“Anyway, I’m fine. My sense of smell seems to have returned to normal too. It must have been temporarily impaired.” 

There were many questions Seo Dojin wanted to ask, but he knew this impudent younger sister wouldn’t answer willingly. He picked the most neutral question that came to mind. 

“How’s the guide? Doing a good job?” 

“Seems like it. Hwang Seongbin even took them to their private hideout once. They’ve played badminton with Woo Jahan too. Their social skills are excellent.” 

“So the third-generation chaebol heir is also a good actor, huh?” 

“You doubt it?” 

Seo Dojin paused briefly before responding. 

“I didn’t expect you to ask that kind of question.” 

Seo Dojin, who had passionately argued to the director that the chaebol heir was suspicious, didn’t deny his sister’s words. Yoon Taeha patted his shoulder reassuringly, as if to tell him not to worry. 

“I’m not a child anymore.” 

“...” 

“It’s not like having to get guided helps me in any way.” 

“You’re really acting suspicious now.” 

“What’s suspicious? I’m living exactly how you wanted. Besides, we’re on a mission together—your constant nitpicking isn’t very mature.” 

Since when did you start listening to me so well? Seo Dojin’s frown deepened further at her overly textbook-perfect response. 

“Are you really planning to keep them in the guide position?”

“Is that something I can decide on my own?” 

“If they say they’ll stay, it sounds like you’re planning to keep them as your dedicated guide.” 

“If the guiding is going well, why would I throw it away?” 

“You’re the one who hates CH the most out of the three of us. Since when did you become so open-minded?” 

As Seo Dojin spoke, Yoon Taeha rummaged under the car seat. 

“I almost forgot to take this with me.” 

With feigned nonchalance, she pulled out a small box. Inside were items needed to deceive suspects—things that might or might not be used. 

Realizing she had finished her preparations, Seo Dojin issued a warning. 

“Don’t teleport away just yet. Are you really planning to keep them as your guide?” 

Today, Seo Dojin was unusually persistent. Though she didn’t intend to question his reasons, she noticed. 

The two siblings worried about her in their own ways, and she felt both forms of concern were undeserved. She couldn’t return everything they’d done for her, and that made her feel guilty. 

Yoon Taeha placed the box on her lap and let out a deep sigh. 

“If Cheon Geonyoung shows all their cards...” 

“...?” 

“Then I’ll decide what to do. If our goals align, I’ll ask them to stay by my side. I’m in no position to refuse someone with such compatible chemistry—it’s the first time I’ve met anyone like that.” 

“And if they don’t show their cards?” 

Her response was delayed. Unconsciously, Seo Dojin crumpled the wrapper he’d been holding. 

Shading her eyes from the glaring sunlight with the hand not holding the box, Yoon Taeha turned her head. Shadows fell across her face. 

“I’ll make them show their cards.” 

Her eyes held a sharpness reminiscent of Lee Haekyung, sharper than usual. 

---

After getting out of the car, Yoon Taeha hid the box and safely returned to the dormitory. 

The shelter was already within the palm of her hand. Whether she visited Cheon Geonyoung or not, she hadn’t neglected patrolling the shelter every day. 

When she opened the box, several packets of seemingly ordinary fruit-flavored jelly came out. 

Through the earphones in her ears, Jet provided an explanation. 

- These are fake amplifiers. When consumed, they’ll temporarily cause a rapid heartbeat and a rush of adrenaline-like sensations. We’ve perfectly replicated even the taste. 

“The taste too?” 

- There’s a slight stimulating effect, but it wears off within an hour. 

“There are many ways to get adrenaline pumping. Someone could just provoke me, right?” 

- It’s truly unnecessary for you, Master. 

“What do you mean?” 

- Jet is sleepy. 

What nonsense was this about an AI needing sleep? 

Ignoring Jet, Yoon Taeha stuffed one packet of jelly deep into her bag and flopped onto her bed. 

It had been an exceptionally hectic day. 

Burying her face in the blanket and inhaling the scent of fabric softener, her body slowly relaxed. She had only slept in the dormitory for five days, yet her body already seemed accustomed to it. 

“This feeling is strange.” 

- Are you reminiscing? Shall I play some appropriate BGM? How about a wake-up song? It has four verses ready. 

“Enough...” 

Of course, back in the northern shelter, she had stayed in much larger rooms—spaces closer to houses than mere rooms. 

Though there were fewer people in the north compared to the west, the northern shelter had the largest land area. 

This was likely because it housed many high-level espers who required their own secure territories. 

Yoon Taeha blinked slowly and took a deep breath. 

Jet would assign Kang Jinho as her opponent during the evaluation match. Secretly, without the knowledge of the shelter’s upper management. 

Since the evaluation match would take place in a closed-off space, there couldn’t be a better stage to confirm Kang Jinho’s true nature—or to gather evidence. 

Kang Jinho had a history of leaving several espers from other classes incapacitated during previous individual sparring matches. The students’ fear wasn’t unfounded. 

“How many espers has Kang Jinho injured?” 

- Officially reported cases total twenty-nine. 

“The unofficial count must be higher.” 

- Out of those twenty-nine, two resulted in serious injuries. One person suffered permanent vision impairment, and another lost the ability to attack with their left hand. 

“Normally, they’d be sent to the north then.”

- Both incidents were recorded as accidents. Especially in the case of the left-hand injury, Kang Jinho was also injured at the same time. 

“Weren’t most of them students whose grades were rapidly improving?” 

- Yes. Particularly their practical skills scores were improving. 

“Guess they got away with it by using self-defense as an excuse...” 

In truth, that’s where her suspicions began. 

Even from the moment she heard the mission overview, one thought had lingered: the likelihood of this starting with the students themselves was extremely low. 

The principal had told Cheon Geonyoung that they’d investigated the faculty but found nothing significant. From the way Cheon Geonyoung relayed the message, it was clear he didn’t believe it—and neither did Yoon Taeha. 

Before entering the shelter, she had collected and read several case files similar to this one. 

The beginnings and endings were mostly alike. If luck wasn’t on their side, the opponents they’d face might not just be a few kids. 

“Was the principal’s name here Pyo Yeongsik?” 

- Let me pull up his profile for you. 

〈Pyo Yeongsik (52 years old)〉 

- Esper Rank: A [Body Modification + Intermediate Teleportation] 

- Worked at Ark Headquarters for 10 years before being transferred to the western shelter as a regular teacher. Has been serving as principal for the past two years. 

- A senior agent investigated the principal, but the report stated no abnormalities. 

Yoon Taeha sat up on her bed and spoke in a meaningful tone. 

“That’s just what the agent claimed.” 

- Are you doubting even the agents who infiltrated earlier? 

“Distrust is an incurable disease. I’ve already caught it.” 

- Should I doubt Jet too? 

Now even artificial intelligence was questioning its own trustworthiness. Yoon Taeha paused briefly before replying in a soft voice. 

“If you betrayed me too, who would I trust? All the information is with you anyway.” 

- I’m glad. I’ll be a Jet worthy of your trust. 

“I’m tired... I’ll take a short nap.” 

Perhaps it was because she had finally moved her body properly after so long—fatigue washed over her. It was better to rest while she could. There would be an avalanche of tasks ahead. 

Covering her eyes with her arm, she soon fell asleep, breathing steadily. 

---

The shelter’s weekends were brimming with energy. 

Students who hadn’t had any free time during the week due to classes and combat training ran wild like untethered colts. 

It didn’t matter whether they were guides or espers—they all felt the same sense of liberation, albeit with different temperaments. 

By Saturday afternoon, Yoon Taeha knocked on Hong Eunsoo’s dorm room door, her hair tied neatly into a single ponytail. 

After knocking exactly three times, a clattering sound came from inside. Hong Eunsoo emerged, her hair tightly tied back, holding a badminton racket. In her hands were two strawberry milk cartons. 

“Are you really going to drink this?” 

Yoon Taeha took the milk from Hong Eunsoo, inserted a straw, and smiled brightly. Hong Eunsoo raised her voice, saying she shouldn’t have to buy milk when she’d already prepared the rackets. 

This was the fruit of Friday morning’s victory. 

“Shall we go to Gym 1? Where do you think there will be the fewest people?” 

“Let’s go to the nearest one. It’s too hot to walk far.” 

The two headed to the third indoor gymnasium. 

Perhaps because the institution gathered kids who loved physical activity, the third gym was almost full. 

She had heard from Cheon Geonyoung that Hwang Seongbin frequently appeared here. She scanned the area for him, but he wasn’t there. 

“Seong-ha! There’s an open spot over there!” 

Hong Eunsoo, who had spotted a vacant spot from afar, waved her hand frantically, urging Yoon Taeha to hurry. But Yoon Taeha, standing closer, strode confidently toward the spot to claim it. 

She hung her bag on the net as a marker to reserve the space. 

But at the same moment, someone else hung a bag on the opposite pole.