As soon as the lights went out, he found the woman’s lips and kissed her. They stumbled like drunks, tongues tangling and sucking. Even when they bumped their thighs and toes against the sofa and table once each, they didn’t let go. It hurt. He licked even her slurred pronunciation and then lifted her in his arms.

Having never been chosen until now, Yoon Tae-ha’s body was laid down on the impeccably clean white bed.

“Get your guiding before you go.”

“What we’ve been doing all this time is guiding.”

“Get more. I’ll be too anxious to let you go if you don’t.”

“We spent more time guiding each other while just holding hands quietly. Remember your dimples? Your earlobes turned red back then……”

“Leave the past in the past.”

He gently cupped her soft breasts in his hands, caressing them tenderly. Yoon Tae-ha raised her knees, stimulating his swollen part. Her heart beat heavily.

Cheon Geon-young realized that the more anxious he became, the more he wanted to indulge in her body. It was far from the right direction and distance. But he couldn’t resist. He wanted to narrow the distance even like this.

He came to worship the woman’s body that drew him in as proof. That he wouldn’t be abandoned again. That she wouldn’t leave him alone. He liked her begging at his touch. He loved her gasping breaths when she let go of everything.

When they were messily intertwined, it felt like they were the only ones left in the world. On land where they had fled from death and duty, enjoying each other’s depleted patience, an act of leading each other with anticipated thrills. Nothing had ever given him such fulfillment.

He closed his eyes, feeling a blissful sense of isolation.

\*

The next day, Yoon Tae-ha left the hotel at the appointed time.

Just before leaving, she briefly kissed the cheek of the sleeping Cheon Geon-young. Next to the bedside table, she placed a box containing the esper-exclusive weapon she had asked Chertan for. Lev had brought it to the rendezvous point a few hours earlier.

She had densely written the instructions for use on a memo pad. It wouldn’t be an unfamiliar type of weapon for Cheon Geon-young. Chairman Cheon’s secret vault would have even more advanced things. But she was worried. She wanted to tell him to practice using it on her if he wanted, but he wouldn’t listen.

Yoon Tae-ha tucked the neatly written instructions for the weapon under the box and put on clothes that mercenaries of ambiguous origin might wear. Before putting on the mask, she leaned in to kiss him one more time, but Cheon Geon-young woke up.

“Are you leaving now?”

“I’ll be right back. Rest.”

Yoon Tae-ha whispered softly and kissed his brow bone. Cheon Geon-young sighed as if he didn’t want to let her go and pulled her into his embrace. Yoon Tae-ha awkwardly hugged him.

“If you come out like this, I won’t want to go.”

“Then don’t go.”

“I made plans with my friends.”

The warmth of someone just woken up grabbed her ankle. She felt like she would die if she had to leave. Yoon Tae-ha empathized with the cruel pain the senior espers had gone through. It wasn’t easy to leave him after lying.

“If you’re unhappy, you go meet your friends too.”

In a fleeting moment, she subtly probed him. In case Cheon Geon-young’s colleagues from the black market were here. Such concerns had been squeezing her thin nerves since morning. Cheon Geon-young slightly distorted his eyes.

“What friends?”

“Don’t you have colleagues you work with when investigating CH? Aren’t there any overseas branches?”

“I don’t know anyone here.”

Something ambiguous lingered at the end of his cracked and lowered voice. Instead of pressing further, she lifted the man’s hand, full of scars. And like a knight taking an oath, she reverently placed her lips on the back of his hand.

“You have to wait. It’ll be quick. In the meantime, don’t even make eye contact with other espers.”

Unlike the dry contact, the request was sticky like melted candy. Cheon Geon-young felt that she had changed. Somewhere. Really. The level of her defensive response seemed to have lowered beyond comparison to before.

“Then I have to wait in this room all day. Without you, without your……”

Yoon Tae-ha quickly covered his mouth with her palm. The words he had uttered just before being blocked made her blush to the tips of her hair. Are you crazy? A face strongly protesting. Cheon Geon-young was itching to tease even that palm. If he looked any longer, he felt like he would end up stripping her.

He got up from the bed and saw Yoon Tae-ha, who had finished getting ready, off. Having perfectly put on her shoes, she looked back at the last remaining person. Cheon Geon-young said with eyes that couldn’t hide their trembling.

“Contact me if anything happens.”

“How do you know who I’ll be with?”

“Whoever you’re with.”

“……”

“I don’t care who you’re with. Contact me if it gets dangerous. Call me. I won’t ask about the people you’re with.”

She had thought he was a very strong person. But Cheon Geon-young, who uttered those words, looked precarious, like he was standing on a cliff.

“You have my secret too. Think of it as an exchange and call me comfortably. You mustn’t get hurt while looking out for your guide’s safety. I promise not to be overly lenient just because they’re civilians. Now, before you leave.”

“I won’t be lenient.”

“You know there are vicious mercenaries or state agents among the organizations that operate without revealing their affiliation. Rather than getting hurt while being ambiguous, kill the opponent.”

This was like telling her to abandon all the principles of life she had learned. What she had learned through pain and tears. Yoon Tae-ha hesitated for a moment. Cheon Geon-young read her hesitation. His desperate and complicated gaze turned to Yoon Tae-ha’s face.

“I promise to respond sincerely to anyone, human or monster, who rushes at me with murderous intent. And to return to you unharmed.”

“I’ll return unharmed. And I’ll respond with all my power to anyone who tries to kill me.”

“I’ll only be worried about you.”

A rough and hot palm touched Yoon Tae-ha’s cheek. Yoon Tae-ha placed her hand over his. If she could, she wanted to melt into him. A sense of loss, as if a part of her body had been torn off, clawed at her.

“Until you return, I’ll only be thinking of you.”

“If it looks like it’ll take a long time, I’ll grab my friend by the collar and come on time.”

She had never found it so difficult to part with someone. She hugged the thick upper body of the man tightly. Cheon Geon-young embraced her deeply, as if engraving her onto his body. The strength conveyed through his desperate arms. She could feel that he was thinking the same thing as her.

“Anyone watching would think we’re going on a five-year deployment.”

“Don’t say such terrible things.”

Two hearts beating together, attached as one. Yoon Tae-ha barely pulled herself away from the man and said,

“I’ll be back.”

Just before the door closed, Yoon Tae-ha caught sight of his face through the gap. And she clenched her right fist tightly. A beautiful face faintly mixed with self-loathing, sadness, and confusion.

That was the last time.

\*

A pale moon rose over the deck.

Cheon Beom-joon, dressed more lightly than the first day, took his seat. The others were no different from him. Befitting its name as an oasis on the sea, the cruise provided luxurious and comfortable hours.

The staff fulfilled whatever the invited guests requested. Anything. Cheon Beom-joon looked disdainfully at the president of a certain transportation company with a flushed face and disheveled clothes. A transparent, light purple liquor sloshed in his hand.

Who knows what they did to the alcohol for him to be so out of it.

It wouldn’t be strange if that man rolled his eyes back and vomited blood as soon as he got off the ship. Clicking his tongue, he noticed that masked men were sparsely 배치된 on the deck’s railing, unlike the first day.

Since it was an invitation from a crow, at least a top executive of Orca would appear. If he was lucky, he might even see the leader’s face.

The invited guests murmured amongst themselves, waiting for the owner of the oasis. After a while, a man walked out from among them.

It was Geum Gang-seop, the leader of Arc.

The murmuring stopped. From a rift orphan to the Secretary-General of an international organization. The leader of the massive organization called the ark of psychics had graced this place with his presence.

Those who hadn’t received a warning from that fastidious man’s organization couldn’t step onto this deck. To that extent, everyone had probably slammed their desks while reading the reports sent by Arc at least once.

This was because Arc intervened whenever the rights of espers were violated. That man was the one who hung on like a hungry hunting dog, talking about legal remedies and compensation for companies.

Cheon Beom-joon’s eyes gleamed coldly as he stared at the Secretary-General’s face.

‘Geum Gang-seop sent the invitation. So that’s how things were going?’

Geum Gang-seop, with his paradoxical background, looked around the deck. His face, devoid of even a formal smile, was as hard as a stone statue, but there was no impatience. With the dignity befitting an inviter, he made direct eye contact with the people standing in the front row.

“I read the numerous protests you send every morning.”

The cruise had already stopped in the middle of the vast ocean. The sea where not a single bird flew was eerily silent.

“Some protests were polite. They were attached with a renowned scholar’s thesis arguing that the human rights of psychics and the development of the economic community are incompatible, and they even asked about my well-being at the end. Other protests were short but powerful. Because they only contained the residential addresses of my wife and daughter. ‘Take care of it yourself.’ I think that was the meaning.”

A small cough broke out from a corner. It was the person who had sent the address. Geum Gang-seop sent a reassuring look in that direction. Of course, the recipient didn’t seem too pleased.

Cheon Beom-joon only rolled his eyes sideways to observe the expressions of those around him. Among the invited guests, there were those who were listening intently to Geum Gang-seop’s words with pre-received translators plugged into their ears. He crossed his arms, feeling doubtful.

Why would someone fluent in at least five languages need that?

Because Geum Gang-seop didn’t seem like a man who would abandon the common language to favor those of the same nationality. Many didn’t take their hostile gazes off Geum Gang-seop. But he continued speaking without concern.

“This is not a place created to express my regrets to you. I have been dishonest until now. There were many moments when I wanted to say that I understand your hard work, but as you know, the captain of a large ship is a position where personal emotions should not be revealed.”

The man’s voice was as soft as reciting a congratulatory address.

“However, at this moment, I will step away from the captain’s responsibility and confess. I am deeply grateful for your hard work, cooperation, and dedication to protecting the land.”

He bowed briefly. It was a polite expression of gratitude. The fact that it was a greeting towards those who valued the lives of espers less than batteries struck Cheon Beom-joon in a new way.

“Since the rifts, we have been suffering from imbalance. What I want to talk about today is, of course, the imbalance of psychics.”

Geum Gang-seop took a step forward. The chairman of a pharmaceutical company standing near him flinched and stepped back.