A dry chuckle slipped out as I shook my head, and the light on my watch began to blink. Fresh from the shower, I swept my damp hair back and checked the device.
[Researcher. You must’ve been really tired today—did you get home alright?]
[I wanted to reach out because I sincerely wanted to apologize.]
The message was from Yeo Wonjin. He said he’d committed a serious offense and wanted to apologize again in person. He even added that if this message itself was unpleasant, he was sorry for that too. Every word was written with careful precision—it showed.
I stared at the message, unimpressed. There was no need for him to go this far. Admitting his mistake and owning up to it back there had been more than enough.
[It’s fine.]
I replied with a short message that clearly conveyed refusal. Maybe he was the type to obsess over his own missteps. Or perhaps it was a habit formed by his position—an ingrained need to tie up any loose ends, especially those that might come back to bite him. Whatever the case, it wasn’t exactly a bad trait.
Still, that didn’t mean I had any interest in getting close to Yeo Wonjin. Unless we happened to meet again in some official setting, I didn’t see any reason for our paths to cross.
After that, my daily routine with Min Yugeon continued as usual—but I found myself a little more conscious of him than before. And with that awareness came realizations I hadn’t noticed when I wasn’t paying attention.
Min Yugeon’s gaze often lingered on me for no apparent reason. Whenever I began to speak or mentioned something about myself, his eyes would sparkle with something like delight. And if my hand happened to brush against him, he’d sometimes stiffen, even just for a second.
That last part was kind of funny, now that I thought about it. He had no problem clinging to me or hugging me out of nowhere, yet the moment I initiated physical contact, he’d act all awkward.
Then again… Maybe he’d always been like that.
“……”
I shook my head to clear the thought and resumed walking.
With one hand in the pocket of my lab coat, I came to a stop in front of the barrier. Cat sat with his legs folded beneath him, tail swaying lazily. He liked to be at eye level with me, so he often sat or lay down like that. His bright yellow eyes stared into mine, unblinking.
“Good morning.”
– Grrr.
Cat let out a pleased rumble, nodding his head up and down like a person.
That had always been one of the most surprising things about him—how he’d closely observed and learned the gestures I made when I was expressing either approval or disapproval. He’d probably also picked things up from watching me communicate with the team from behind the barrier.
Still, even with that understanding, it was hard to believe—even when seeing it with my own eyes—that a monster would mimic human behavior. He hadn’t been trained. He’d picked it up entirely on his own. None of the other monsters, not even Rai, who had been with me for so long, had ever done anything like that.
“We’ve got a visitor today, so try not to get too startled when someone unfamiliar shows up.”
I gave a light knock against the barrier as I warned him.
A few days ago, I’d requested a soldier to be assigned so we could move on to the next phase of the project, and it was approved. Today was the first day the military would be sending someone out.
Since our ultimate goal was combat with monsters, I’d asked specifically for someone with relevant experience. I didn’t know exactly who would be arriving, but it was guaranteed to be a member of the Reconnaissance Unit.
– Grrr.
Cat wrinkled his nose sharply. His gaze turned toward the corridor—he seemed to have sensed someone approaching. I turned to face the same direction.
Not long after, I heard the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway. Muffled voices overlapped and grew louder as they neared, until Lee Seo-rim and Seol Young-jun came into view.
“Team Leader.”
“Yes.”
Looked like our guest had arrived.
Two soldiers stepped into the observation room behind the team. One looked nervous, walking stiffly. The other silently stared past me, eyes fixed on Cat.
I recognized him instantly. It had only been a few weeks since we’d brushed past each other.
“Ah…! You’re Team Leader Seo Suho, correct?”
The soldier, standing rigidly at attention, greeted me in a deliberately quiet voice—he must’ve been told that loud noises could provoke Cat. He was clearly trying not to look at anything beyond the barrier.
“Yes. Hello.”
I dipped my head slightly in return. It struck me as odd that someone so visibly uncomfortable around monsters would be sent—but the man quickly explained that he was a sergeant here to handle scheduling and paperwork. That cleared up the confusion. So he was from administration.
The sergeant kept sneaking glances at the man beside him.
Finally, that man looked away from Cat and locked eyes with me.
He extended a hand and spoke slowly.
“Colonel Sun Woosung, Reconnaissance Unit.”
“Stay still.”
Even in the chaos, that dry, restrained voice had etched itself into my ears—and it hadn’t changed. …The pain that had choked the air from my lungs that day, the storm of emotions—I felt it all again in a flash. Just for a moment, my ears rang with a hollow numbness.
“I’m Seo Suho.”
As I exchanged a brief handshake with Sun Woosung, a thought crossed my mind. It wasn’t that he was pretending not to recognize me. He might actually not remember me at all.
Given the total population aboard the ship, the military force wasn’t particularly large. Even so, the ranks were rigidly maintained. A colonel in the Reconnaissance Unit—that meant he commanded the entire division.
Sun Woosung looked young, even at first glance. At most, late twenties. He hadn’t seemed much older than me even back then. So for him to already be at the rank of colonel, it wasn’t hard to imagine what kind of experiences had led him here.
Promotions to command typically occur when a position becomes vacant. And vacancies arise under one of three conditions: resignation under unavoidable circumstances, forced discharge due to disciplinary violations… or death.
Given the nature of the Recon Unit, the previous colonel likely died in action. And afterward, regardless of his age, Sun Woosung must’ve been recognized as fit to lead and promoted accordingly.
I met his eyes—jet black, not a flicker of light in them. There was a heaviness to his presence now that hadn’t been there before. Unlike me, who had grown comfortable in a peaceful routine, he had likely lived through a relentless series of life-or-death situations. It made sense that trivial memories wouldn’t have stayed with him.
“I didn’t expect the colonel himself to come.”
I truly hadn’t imagined someone of his standing would show up in person. When I offered a simple thank-you, Sun Woosung said nothing, simply stared.
“……”
His gaze alone carried enough weight to feel like silent pressure. My team members grew stiff, glancing between us with unease. I paid it no mind and shifted slightly, gesturing toward Cat beyond the barrier.
“This is Subject S8A152, the focus of our current project. From today onward, Colonel Sun, you’ll be observing whether consistent interaction is possible at set intervals, and I’ll be accompanying those sessions. Please be aware that for efficiency, the subject must remain the same. If someone else were to replace you midway, it would seriously disrupt the process.”
– Grrrrr.
“As you can see, this is how he responds to unfamiliar people.”
In truth, Cat saw everyone but me as prey. Still, when it came to the potential for building rapport, a consistent presence had a far greater chance than switching people every time.
Cat pressed his snout close to my back, teeth bared in a flash of menace. The sergeant let out a faint groan and shuddered involuntarily. Seol Young-jun, standing nearby, watched with a look of shared sympathy. Sun Woosung didn’t so much as blink.
“Cat.”
I gently tapped the tip of Cat’s nose for the sergeant’s sake. As soon as he heard the sound, Cat turned his full attention to me and closed his mouth. His tail, however, remained bristled in the sergeant’s direction. Even while visibly frightened, the sergeant couldn’t hide his fascination at how the monster could distinguish between individuals.
“…Cat?”
Sun Woosung muttered the name, a faint crack forming in that severe expression of his. Through that tiny fracture, raw, unfiltered emotion slipped out.
“You gave that monster a name?”
What came through was pure disgust.
I held my silence, locking eyes with him.
“Seo Suho.”
He stepped in close, looking down at me.
“Whether or not you’re attached to that thing is none of my business. But let me make one thing clear.”
“……”
“To that monster, people are just prey. And to me, monsters are something I want to tear to pieces. The feeling is mutual.”
The look in his eyes felt like a blade pressed to the skin—sharp, cold, and unmistakably sincere. That warning rang true, not bluster.
Lee Seo-rim and Seol Young-jun pressed together instinctively, holding their breath. The sergeant stood frozen, mouth open in stunned disbelief.
His attitude wasn’t exactly pleasant, but I had no right to judge him for hating monsters. And besides, this wasn’t a knee-jerk reaction. It was a deliberate boundary—his way of preventing any assumptions that he’d treat the creature with kindness or familiarity, like I did.
I nodded.
“No need to worry. I won’t be asking you to do that.”
At my response, Sun Woosung stared hard at me, then reined in his emotions with swift precision. His expression returned to stone—rigid, unreadable. But there was a subtle shift. A slight softening.
Still, the tension in the observation room remained razor-thin.
“Um…”
Sweating nervously, the sergeant finally spoke up, carefully watching for the right moment.
“Team Leader Seo… I apologize, but may I have a word with you in private?”
He clearly wanted to speak one-on-one. I had no reason to refuse, but— As I hesitated for a moment, Sun Woosung approached and gave the sergeant a short nod, silently granting permission.
I glanced back at my team. Leaving them alone with Sun Woosung felt a little cruel. Perhaps catching my hesitation, the two team members immediately stepped apart and straightened their posture with exaggerated resolve. They seemed to be saying we’re fine, but their damp, uncertain eyes didn’t quite sell it.
“Alright. Let’s move elsewhere.”
Still, I couldn’t very well leave an outsider here unattended. I had no choice.
After exiting the observation room and parting ways with the others, I led the sergeant down the corridor toward my office.
“……”
As we walked, Sun Woosung’s earlier question suddenly echoed in my head.
On impulse, I turned to look behind me— But he was already gone.
