Hyun Je-ha gently adjusted the unconscious Yeon Yu-jin in his arms.
He had been observing Yu-jin under the pretense of surveillance, so the moment Yu-jin lost consciousness, he was able to rush over immediately.
I followed them just in case, since there was someone in the group who seemed like a government spy…
Who would’ve thought the incident would break out by the dungeon gate, not over here?
Hyun Je-ha examined Yu-jin’s condition with a dry expression.
Still intact.
It looked like his body had short-circuited and passed out after burning through an immense amount of energy in a short time.
How odd. For a D-rank Guide, he’s displaying the skill level of at least an A-rank—maybe even S.
On top of that, he had assessed the situation in seconds and reacted with swift, veteran-level decision-making.
“This is strange.”
Hyun Je-ha murmured under his breath, sounding uncharacteristically uncertain.
Even as he spoke, he didn’t stop carefully holding Yu-jin to ensure he was comfortable.
Was it because it had been so long since he last came into contact with a Guide? Even though the other was unconscious, he could still feel a faint, refreshing energy flowing into him, making something deep inside him stir and itch.
He’s nothing like Ga-hyun… So why does this kid keep weighing on my mind?
There was no easy answer to that question.
“Ugh…”
A faint groan escaped from the unconscious Yu-jin, and Hyun Je-ha flinched.
This won’t do. I need to get him to a hospital right away.
Since the civilians nearby had witnessed Yu-jin and the Espers in action, he figured they’d help get him safely to the hospital.
Bee-bo, bee-bo.
The piercing sound of a siren grew louder in the distance.
Hyun Je-ha started to lay Yu-jin on the ground, but then stopped. He took off his coat and spread it out like a mat before gently placing Yu-jin down on it.
“Cough, cough.”
Even unconscious, Yu-jin coughed up blood.
Why the hell did you get involved in this mess?
Je-ha couldn’t help but resent him.
Yu-jin reminded him of someone he had lost long ago.
From the very first time they’d met at the underground vault, he’d been going insane trying to erase the ghost of Ahn Ga-hyun from his mind—only for it to come roaring back every time he looked at Yu-jin.
“Goddamn it.”
And now too.
The image of Yu-jin coughing up blood, collapsing on the ground—it overlapped perfectly with the image of his old partner, the one who died protecting him twenty years ago.
As Je-ha clicked his tongue and turned to leave, Lee Ha-ram blocked his path.
“…What is it?”
Je-ha had completed a perfect disguise to avoid drawing attention.
A wig and cap covered his hair, and sunglasses hid his striking blue eyes. Yet somehow, this government agent had still managed to see through it all.
“You… You’re Hyun Je-ha, aren’t you?”
Tch. This is turning into a headache.
Je-ha clicked his tongue and acted clueless, playing the part of an ordinary civilian.
“Huh? Who’s that? Sorry, I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
“Don’t lie. When Yeon Yu-jin fainted earlier, you instinctively used Telekinesis.”
“……”
Je-ha froze. He hadn’t even realized he’d used his powers.
Ha-ram, seeing his silence, assumed he’d hit the mark and pressed harder, now confident.
“Telekinesis is your signature ability. Stop pretending. You’re Hyun Je-ha. Or should I say… the deserter?”
As Ha-ram’s tone turned hostile, Manager Kim Hyun-soo looked bewildered and tried to intervene.
“W-What are you doing, Ha-ram? Why are you picking a fight with some random guy on the street?”
“Sorry, Kim Hyun-soo. This is my original mission. Things have changed. I’ve just found a rogue Esper, so I’m reprioritizing my orders—capture first. Thank you for your kindness until now.”
Ha-ram didn’t wait for a reply and shot forward like an arrow.
“There’s a direct order from the Bureau to bring you in alive. Hyun Je-ha! Come with me quietly!”
As Ha-ram charged at him with everything he had, Je-ha simply watched him with an impassive expression.
“That’s not gonna happen.”
He didn’t even take a defensive stance. Instead, he removed his sunglasses.
The civilians watching nearby gasped.
“Blue eyes!”
“A sign of awakening… He’s an Esper?!”
“Then that guy who said he was a manager—isn’t he also an Esper?”
“Maybe a Hunter? But why are they fighting each other?”
Whispers, murmurs.
Just as I thought. This is getting too noisy.
There was nothing good about attracting more attention.
The corruption rate’s at a borderline level… but this’ll still be the fastest and easiest solution.
Je-ha muttered under his breath, and Ha-ram’s eyes widened in shock.
“No… You’re not going to—!”
“That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
“N-No, stop!”
Just before Ha-ram could reach him, Je-ha slowly blinked and snapped his fingers.
Snap.
His eyes turned a deep indigo-violet.
The movements of all living beings slowed to a crawl—and then, time stopped.
Above every person’s head, hashtags with floating keywords appeared and drifted in midair.
It’s been a while since I used this. Still works like a charm.
As powerful as it was, the price was brutal agony.
What he had just used was his Second Awakening Ability: Memory Erasure.
A terrifying power that allowed him to selectively erase specific memories within a defined range.
Thanks to this, Je-ha had managed to evade government capture for twenty years.
“Let’s see…”
Since this was the park where the dungeon break just happened, most of the floating keywords in people’s memories were dungeon-related.
Hundreds of them drifted through Je-ha’s violet gaze.
#Dungeon_Break #Where_is_Jin_Eutteum #Monsters #Fear_of_Death #Unexpected_Secreti #Shocking_Kiss_Scene #WTF_Yeon_Yu-jin #Who_the_hell_is_that_guy
As he scrolled through the keywords, Je-ha frowned at the one mentioning “kiss.”
“…He’s an idol, so I guess I can delete this one.”
It definitely wasn’t out of personal feelings. Yeon Yu-jin was someone continuing Ahn Ga-hyun’s legacy—that was the only reason.
The hashtag #Shocking_Kiss_Scene vanished from everyone’s memories. The kiss scene captured on phones and cameras disappeared along with it.
Now that the guiding scene had been erased from their minds, no one would be able to make a fuss about Yu-jin or his group later.
He left the memories involving Yu-jin’s teammates intact—after all, they were his Espers.
Still… this doesn’t sit right either.
Next, he deleted every keyword related to himself and Ha-ram. Especially anything in Ha-ram’s memory that could pose a threat.
Of course, this ability only erased human memory and related evidence—if the government launched a full investigation, the truth would eventually surface.
But it bought him time, and right now, that was enough to escape the crisis.
If I erase too many memories, it’ll lead to confusion… but who cares? No point in feeling sorry for a government pawn.
Je-ha put his sunglasses back on and turned his back to the scene. Time resumed.
“…Huh? What was I doing?”
Ha-ram blinked in confusion, having completely lost his memory of what just happened. He felt like he’d been doing something important, but couldn’t recall what.
Manager Kim Hyun-soo walked past him, tears streaming down his face like raindrops.
“Oh my god, Yu-jin! What the hell happened to you?!”
Ah, right. Yeon Yu-jin passed out.
Ha-ram assumed he’d been on his way to help the collapsed Yu-jin and went to assist him alongside Hyun-soo.
Fortunately, the ambulance arrived just in time, and the crowd helped move the Secreti members onto stretchers.
“We’re transferring them to the Ability-Users’ Hospital!”
As the paramedics moved the Secreti members, the crowd stepped aside on their own.
They knew Secreti were the ones who had stopped the sudden dungeon break and saved the citizens.
Even after the ambulances left, people kept watching until the vehicles became dots in the distance, murmuring among themselves.
“Will that guy be okay?”
“Was it… Secreti?”
“Yeah, that idol group with Espers and a Guide mixed in.”
“They really showed what they’re made of today. Especially Yeon Yu-jin. The way he threw his teammates in front of the monster—those eyes… damn.”
“Thought they were just playing at being ability users, but after seeing that fight? I was honestly impressed. I thought they were actual Hunters.”
“I even took pictures. I’m totally looking them up later.”
“You too?”
“Yeah, me too.”
Even members of Jin Eutteum’s fan club casually shared their photos of Secreti’s dramatic battle. And it wasn’t just regular people.
“This story might spark a whole new wave.”
One reporter, who specialized in entertainment pieces featuring celebrity Hunters, had been taking photos like mad the moment the fight began.
He hadn’t been without fear—he could’ve died—but when he saw those dazzling young men in action, he gave in to the basest instinct of his profession.
They might outshine some of the top Hunters and make a huge comeback.
Other journalists who witnessed the incident felt the same.
They grabbed their cameras and bolted to file their exclusives first.
Only once the wounded had been taken to the hospital did someone finally ask:
“Wait… so when exactly is Hunter Jin Eutteum coming out of the gate?”
