Psst! We're moving!
Approaching the counter, she deliberately spoke in a bright voice.
“Excuse me, sir. I’d like to buy this pen.”
“Student ID payment?”
“Yes.”
The convenience store clerk took the pen with an impassive face and scanned the barcode. From her position, it was hard to see clearly. She wanted to move closer but hesitated, fearing he might notice.
Just as she felt regret for not advancing, Cheon Geon-young suddenly appeared behind her. In a low voice, he said,
“He pretends to scan the barcode while swapping the pens. Watch the pen.”
He naturally blocked the clerk’s view of Yoon Tae-ha, allowing her to observe the clerk’s professional hand movements.
“Thank you. Please come again.”
The first buyer received their pen. She immediately noticed the difference.
“A sticker?”
Her eyes sparkled as she turned her head quickly, eager for confirmation. In doing so, Cheon Geon-young’s face ended up close to hers—his usual expressionless face with downcast eyes.
As soon as their eyes met, she averted her gaze and tried to step back.
“Oh, excuse me, I need to pass through. This place is too cramped… What nonsense…”
“When did they expand the convenience store?”
Two large male students grumbled as they squeezed past. Without changing his expression, Cheon Geon-young pulled her closer. Her attempt to retreat failed, and instead, she was drawn nearer.
His chest was now close enough to touch her nose. The faint scent that lingered in his dorm room filled the air, and Yoon Tae-ha held her breath.
Unfortunately, another reason to maintain this position approached like a storm once again.
“Wanna practice sparring with me later? I’ve already booked the best training room.”
“Do you want me to break your nose again? You ruined my dobok last time with all the blood!”
“…You could go easy on me! I’m an intelligence-type esper.”
“I’ll think about it if you buy me five sandwiches.”
Around fifteen students, boys and girls alike, pushed past them one after another. They carried long bamboo swords, appearing far more terrifying than even the graduating seniors obsessed with enhancers.
A haughty girl demanded sandwiches from an intelligence-type boy in exchange for teaching him martial arts.
Each time Yoon Tae-ha felt the urge to breathe, she blinked once.
As soon as the young children passed by, Cheon Geon-young looked down at her and said,
“You’re not breathing right now.”
It felt as though heavy stones were weighing down her eyelashes. How had he not been fooled even once?
“We’ve trained similarly. It shows.”
Taking a deep breath, Yoon Tae-ha naturally snatched his plastic bag and slipped out of his grasp.
“I think I’m going to sneeze. My uniform is clean—I’d feel bad ruining it.”
She didn’t wait for his response. Grabbing a pen, she said, “I’m buying this,” and headed to the counter.
Cheon Geon-young followed suit, picking a pen and heading to the counter.
“Ring this up, please.”
“Ah, student ID?”
“Yes.”
Yoon Tae-ha had paid the amount a few days earlier through Cheon Geon-young. Her name would have been recorded in the ledger.
The convenience store clerk glanced at something beside him, then handed over the swapped pen with a slightly gloomy expression.
“Here you go. Next customer, please proceed.”
The barcode sticker for scanning differed in color. Ordinary pens had matte stickers, but the swapped pen’s barcode shimmered with a glossy finish.
Any student carrying such a pen could be identified as a buyer.
Suppressing a sigh, Yoon Tae-ha stepped aside to let Cheon Geon-young take the counter. Instead of a thin notebook or three-color pen, he purchased a different type of pen.
“Uh, hold on. This pen is defective.”
“I’ll get a replacement for you.”
“No, no. Sometimes these products are entirely defective inside the packaging. Just wait a moment. There’s a new box right behind me.”
Something felt off.
Standing near the entrance, Yoon Tae-ha signaled to Cheon Geon-young. His expression mirrored hers—it was unexpected.
The convenience store owner quickly returned with a new pen and handed it to Cheon Geon-young. Yoon Tae-ha noticed his hand trembling slightly through the counter.
Suspicious. Very suspicious.
Realizing the same, Cheon Geon-young immediately tucked the purchased pen into his uniform pocket and swiftly left the scene.
Yoon Tae-ha opened the door for him.
The two wandered aimlessly like loafers, swinging their sandwiches, before settling onto the empty stands of the schoolyard.
Setting her shake down, she opened the pen she had purchased.
“Technological advancements aren’t always a good thing, you know...”
Where red, blue, and black ink should have been, there was instead a powdery lavender substance. Its shimmer was otherworldly.
“The color is pretty.”
“It turns blue when mixed with water. Like an ion drink.”
“One out of every three people in the senior-exclusive gym drinks this kind of beverage while exercising.”
Cheon Geon-young casually peeled the wrapper off his sandwich.
“So, a third of the graduating class are users.”
Darkness clouded Yoon Tae-ha’s vision. Her suspicions had hit the mark. The scale was broader than expected.
“We need full inspections. Everyone who has ever come into contact with enhancers must be found.”
Countless faces flickered through her mind—those who would burn the midnight oil, lighting up Yeouido like stars during dawn.
“Continuous psychological counseling will also be necessary, of course.”
“Are they highly addictive?”
“Not physically. I’ve heard that cutting off these enhancers doesn’t cause tremors or shortness of breath.”
“It’s just that they don’t think they can handle being weaker.”
Yoon Tae-ha nodded heavily.
“That’s harder than it sounds.”
“That’s true.”
Taking another sip of her shake, she muttered hopelessly,
“There are probably younger students involved too.”
“Evaluations start at seventeen, right?”
“Yeah, seventeen.”
“They should be included. Not many start using enhancers only after reaching the graduating class.”
“You’re right. Kang Jin-ho and Kwon Min-gi have been using them since last year...”
What had they done to let things get this bad?
After burying her face in her palms, she lifted her head. Her humorless eyes glinted coldly.
“Eat and think.”
She accepted the sandwich Cheon Geon-young offered and bit into the half-cooled bread. A whistle blew in the distance where students were running for physical training.
As she neared the end of her sandwich, Cheon Geon-young pulled the pen from his uniform pocket. Yoon Tae-ha signaled with her eyes to open it now.
The body twisted apart, revealing brown wrapping paper used for packaging. Yoon Tae-ha asked,
“What is it?”
Cheon Geon-young unfolded the paper. She leaned in closely to read the contents together.
Help me.
Meeting each other’s eyes, they shared the same thought. Yoon Tae-ha scoffed bitterly.
“Looks like someone wants to escape.”
Cheon Geon-young tucked the note back into his inner pocket and calmly asked,
“A trap?”
“Either a trap or someone truly in need of help.”
“So, do you think this person genuinely wants us to back off?”
“With at least twenty people involved, one of them might panic. Plus, the convenience store clerk is just an ordinary person. He could’ve been threatened by the principal. When someone like that threatens...”
“You’re surprisingly lenient.”
“To whom?”
“Ordinary people.”
Her brow furrowed, questioning his meaning. Cheon Geon-young, who had been an ordinary person until just a year ago, warned her sternly.
“Don’t think they’re any different.”
For a moment, she stared at him as if seeing a stranger. Then, understanding dawned, and she nodded.
Telling her not to worry about anything except the evaluations, Cheon Geon-young stood.
“I’ll go soak up some sun.”
She remained seated, gazing at the empty field until the shadow cast by the sunshade shifted.
________________________________________
“How’s business lately?”
Late at night, after weekend operations ended, Park Dae-chul turned sharply at the familiar voice.
Before him stood Goh Myeong-seong, interrupting his task of disposing of product boxes using a large cart.
“What are you trying to say by coming here?”
Though Park Dae-chul was over ten years older than Goh Myeong-seong, he felt deeply intimidated by him.
“Do we need a reason to talk? Are you hurt that I came without one?”
“I’ve sold everything I needed to today.”
“You’ve proven yourself capable, Teacher Park. No need for surveillance among adults who know how to behave.”
Knowing there was nothing incriminating, Goh Myeong-seong rummaged through snack boxes as if searching for hidden corpses. The neatly stacked boxes tumbled to the floor.
“Lately, things have been chaotic. You know that, right?”
“And yet here you are, outside at night...”
“Eventually, we’ll catch all the kids. That’s the side effect of our ‘good sons’—they sleep a lot. Besides, this is a blind spot.”
“I’ve had a long day. If there’s nothing urgent, I need to finish disposing of these.”
Goh Myeong-seong stepped in front of him, blocking his path.
“Ah, you’re in such a hurry.”
Smirking, Goh Myeong-seong approached. Each time he drew near, Park Dae-chul paled as if facing a grim reaper. Clutching the cart tightly, he pressed his arms against his body.
“It seems we’ll have to send a few people out.”
The dark circles under Park Dae-chul’s eyes deepened further.
“Why are you telling me this...?”
“Think about it, Park Dae-chul—or should I call you hyung? I just realized I’ve been rude to someone much older than me.”
“...”
“Hyung, Hwang Seong-bin personally knows whose faces?”
“The PE instructor and me...”
“Exactly. Hwang Seong-bin is beyond saving. An undercover agent is glued to him, meticulously gathering evidence. They could probably write an encyclopedia by now.”
“The guy with the flashy face—Cheon Geon-young?”
“Yes, that dazzling face of his. His charm captivates everyone. If I’d had a face like that when I was young, I wouldn’t be saying these words here now... Sigh.”
Goh Myeong-seong lamented something impossible even in another life.