HLSEBT - 95

Chapter 95. Each one’s circumstances (4)

Something is wrong.

Yoon Taeha had felt it for some time now.

Her grandfather’s experiments, which never seemed to have good intentions. The staff who refused to feed children when they resisted taking the drugs. Researchers who casually dismissed the deaths of espers during brutal training as “accidental.”

The supervisors from the government who had brushed away her desperate pleas. The sound of someone crying somewhere in the facility every night. The gray walls that were impossible to scale.

There were countless triggers.

To others, Ark was an institution created to facilitate the exchange of information on global rifts and provide unified education for espers.

It took on tasks no one else wanted and volunteered to handle even more difficult responsibilities. Everyone considered working there a badge of honor.

So why was it only she who saw these things?

This was the biggest question Yoon Taeha had carried since she was young.

People like Min Cha-hoon were familiar to her—she had seen them all too often. People who would rush to plug any hole in the ark with their own bodies if it ever appeared.

Most of Professor Yoon’s people were like that. If someone got hurt during one of his ordered experiments, they would step forward voluntarily to take responsibility and face punishment. Her grandfather always remained safe.

After anti-government forces like Orca began gaining power, there was less need to cut people out internally.

“It’s all their fault.”

It was simple enough to point fingers and be done with it.

Yoon Taeha turned her gaze away from the night sky and collapsed onto the flower bed in front of her.

As expected, thinking about her grandfather was poison. She clenched her teeth tightly, but a groan still escaped.

“Ah…”

Her head, which had been fine during her infiltration duties, started throbbing again, as if someone were trying to pry it open by force.

Unaware that her palms were being scraped against the bricks of the planter, Yoon Taeha gripped them tightly.

________________________________________

Cheon Geonyoung arrived at the main stadium after receiving Kim Dooeun’s call. The interior of the dome, with only a few lights on, was dim and shadowy.

Kim Dooeun was sitting in the central stands, waiting for him. Likely because he had just attended the same meeting, he was still wearing the same clothes.

“Cheon Geonyoung!”

He called out cheerfully. Cheon Geonyoung walked toward the seat next to Kim Dooeun, pondering why he had been summoned.

Their conversation began with Kim Dooeun joking that he should have noticed earlier during the underwater escape class.

“In fact, I also attended the same school you graduated from. But I dropped out midway, so my name isn’t on the alumni list.”

“You’re my senior then. I apologize for not recognizing you.”

“I didn’t bring this up just to hear that apology. Everyone knows that school doesn’t acknowledge anyone unless they’ve graduated….”

Though Kim Dooeun denied being grouped with alumni, he seemed slightly happier than before. Straightening his posture, he said,

“I asked you here because I was curious.”

Seeing the polite expression on the young man attentively listening to him, Kim Dooeun grinned.

“What do you think about being inside the Ark?”

“Did the center instruct you to ask me that?”

Kim Dooeun chuckled briefly and shook his head.

“Our job does involve subtly prying into agents’ feelings like snakes climbing over walls. But this time, it’s different. I’m just curious how someone like you—someone whose abilities manifested late—views our organization as a guide.”

He paused briefly before adding,

“Are espers kind?”

“They’re excessively kind.”

Kim Dooeun looked slightly surprised.

“It’s hard to believe we’re talking about the same espers.”

“They’ve been kind from the start.”

Though Kim Dooeun seemed skeptical, he decided to let it slide.

“Have they ever tried to force anything using their powers?”

“Never.”

“Don’t misunderstand this as a background check. It’s a risk management detail that only a few people know.”

The inquirer’s voice grew cautious.

Background check, huh.

Cheon Geonyoung thought he might bring up his grandfather.

“Did they try to exploit your family connections for unfair gain?”

The other man’s thick eyebrows twitched with concern.

Luring that woman under his grandfather’s name was something closer to his side of the equation. He had been the first to use it, the first to calculate.

Cheon Geonyoung smiled—a smile so convincing that anyone could fall for it.

“It seems all the unfair benefits are going to me, as Yoon Taeha’s guide.”

“…Is that so?”

Kim Dooeun didn’t fully understand, but sensing that Cheon Geonyoung didn’t intend to explain further, he nodded like a pigeon and backed off.

He told Cheon Geonyoung to feel free to consult him anytime if he encountered difficulties, emphasizing his desire to help with adaptation.

Having called Cheon Geonyoung first, Kim Dooeun excused himself hurriedly after receiving a phone call. He left with a promise to meet again in Yeouido.

Cheon Geonyoung checked the time and headed back to his quarters. His first mission as a guide was drawing to a close.

One hurdle safely cleared.

After attending the meeting and speaking with Kim Dooeun, the feeling solidified even more.

For the past while, he had managed to live without feeling adrift in unfamiliar spaces. This was thanks to Yoon Taeha, who had made no secret of her dissatisfaction with him from the start.

As he climbed back to his quarters, Cheon Geonyoung repeatedly clenched and unclenched his right hand—the one she often grabbed.

It reminded him of the sensation when he first stepped on flames.

Guiding—it felt like being trapped inside a glass bottle filled with soft petals. Ticklish and sweet. As though the ground beneath him was drifting further and further away. Everything slipped through his fingers teasingly.

Was it because he was trapped in that transparent glass bottle? For a few seconds, nothing but the sounds she made reached his ears. There wasn’t much he could do inside the tilting bottle except rain down toward her.

〈Do not use guiding as leverage to demand ransom.〉

It was one of the basic guidelines drilled into him endlessly upon joining the Center. Even here, at the West Shelter, students were repeatedly reminded of the same thing.

Perhaps that was why Yoon Taeha had been lukewarm about deals.

They left behind only blind yearning, erasing everything else.

They were like people placing a ticking time bomb in the middle of a scale, unsure of when it would explode. Even someone accustomed to waiting couldn’t help but feel anxious.

Upon reaching his floor, Cheon Geonyoung hesitated before putting away the phone he had taken out to make a call.

Yoon Taeha likely hadn’t returned yet. Min Cha-hoon seemed to have a lot to say to her.

Let her rest.

He had witnessed firsthand how much effort she had put into this mission.

If she had accepted this assignment to rest, what kind of work must she normally handle?

Feeling his mood settle slightly, he rounded the last corner toward his room. That’s when he spotted someone hunched in front of his door.

It was Yoon Taeha.

She had buried her head in her knees, arms wrapped tightly around her legs. Sensing movement, she slowly raised her head.

“It’s been a while.”

A greeting that felt oddly formal despite parting ways just an hour ago.

Cheon Geonyoung strode toward her. Yoon Taeha leaned her head limply against the wall and looked up at him, blinking slowly as if struggling to focus.

Her face was deathly pale. Through the undone buttons of her loosened shirt, he could see her collarbone rising and falling rapidly.

Why was she collapsing like this after leaving looking perfectly fine?

Cheon Geonyoung’s jaw tightened momentarily.

“Help me.”

Yoon Taeha spoke in a small voice, extending a trembling hand. Without hesitation, he grasped it. Her hand was much hotter than usual.

Cheon Geonyoung knelt in front of her, tilting his head as if tending to an injured animal.

“The doctor?”

Yoon Taeha rested her forehead back on her knees and gave a slight shake of her head. Even speaking seemed painful.

“It’s not like I was stabbed by a knife…”

She didn’t even have the strength to hold onto his hand. Her hand kept slipping downward, so he pulled it back up firmly. With each rise and fall of her shoulders, his composure wavered.

Cheon Geonyoung spoke in a sharp tone.

“Go inside.”

There was no reason to leave someone in pain leaning against the hallway wall.

Holding out one hand, he quickly entered the passcode and opened the door. Yoon Taeha staggered to her feet. He wanted to support her by the waist, but she weakly refused, unable to even open her eyes properly. Regretting not turning on the heater earlier, he closed the door behind them.

Entering the cold room, Yoon Taeha collapsed onto the bed without even removing her jacket, unable to utter a sound.

Cheon Geonyoung sprang into action, following the procedures drilled into him by the Center. The company had made him memorize hundreds of manuals detailing what to do if his esper showed symptoms.

First, the uncomfortable jacket.

Gently patting her shoulder and arm as if soothing a child, he coaxed her onto her side.

“It’ll be uncomfortable to sleep like this. Let’s take this off.”

“Mm…”

Her feeble response was pitiful. She moved as little as possible, as if conserving energy. Once he removed her jacket, she shivered and hugged herself with her arms. Her exposed skin was paper-white, and the veins on the back of her hands stood out bluish.

“Cover me with the blanket.”

“You need to cool down.”

“…I’m cold.”

“No.”

Yoon Taeha, half her face buried in the bed, grumbled. Her words slurred together, making them unclear, but her irritation toward him was unmistakable.

Leaving her behind like a living ammonite, he headed to the bathroom.

He soaked a clean towel in icy water until his fingertips tingled. After wringing it out thoroughly, like a machine extracting moisture, he stepped back into the room.