While Han-gyeom’s wrists were being tightly bound with someone’s necktie, the woman casually threw out a question.
“You didn’t look well earlier. Are you sick? You still look pretty pale.”
Her voice carried genuine concern.
Which is exactly why Han-gyeom couldn’t understand.
That man from earlier, and now this woman too—they both acted like they knew him well.
They even seemed to care enough to worry about his health.
Why?
Han-gyeom mentally went over the list of unregistered Espers he’d encountered. He hadn’t seen the woman’s face yet, so it made sense he didn’t recognize her. But the man from before definitely hadn’t been on his client list.
“Why are you doing this to me?”
As she checked to make sure his wrists were securely tied, the woman replied, sounding somewhat awkward.
“You think we want to be doing this? If you were just a regular Guide, we would’ve asked to meet at some café or something.”
She let out a sigh, as if genuinely disappointed it had come to this. Then, the air around them suddenly turned icy.
“It’s that crazy bastard’s fault. That damn asshole in bed with the Association.”
The woman spat out the curse with venom-laced rage.
“He treats you rough, doesn’t he? Uses you like a damn slave, right? I don’t even have to see it—I already know. He’s no different from the rest of those Association bastards.”
It almost sounded like she was getting angry on Han-gyeom’s behalf. But the fury burning in her voice was too intense to be anyone else’s emotion. It was hers.
Han-gyeom could guess who she meant.
Seo Won.
This woman knew he was Seo Won’s exclusive Guide.
Which meant both she and the man from earlier had approached him with Seo Won as their enemy. If that were true, then it was highly likely they were the ones who severed the link between Seo Won and Jung Ah-young.
They’re with the terrorists.
He could be sure of it now.
The first time he had ever accompanied Seo Won outside had been at the product demonstration—the same one where the sonic attack had occurred. That was the only possible occasion when they could’ve seen him with Seo Won.
They said it was a hastily arranged meeting to prevent something like this from happening…
Could there have been a leak?
The Esper Association was the most likely suspect, but only a small, trusted group of senior members had attended. It was hard to imagine any of them leaking information so carelessly. Then again, someone always ends up betraying, but in this case, there was no real gain to be had.
The bigger issue was that the terrorists from that incident still hadn’t been caught.
Han-gyeom thought back to the man he’d met before the attack.
The man they claimed was a terrorist didn’t seem like someone capable of doing something so dangerous. If anything, he had a gentle face, and even knowing he’d be caught on CCTV, he still took the time to speak to Han-gyeom when he looked unwell.
The idea that that man was a terrorist was still hard to accept.
Everyone has their own version of justice and different ways of thinking—so judging someone by appearances alone is foolish.
This woman’s probably the same.
Han-gyeom didn’t know why she was treating him so kindly, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he shouldn’t trust her.
Once his wrists were tightly secured, Ah-young—still under the woman’s control—finally loosened her grip on his arms. His body, which had been tightly restrained, was finally free from the pressure, and a dull ache spread through him.
“Let’s go.”
The woman hooked her arm around Han-gyeom’s and spoke softly.
“We’ll get you out of this.”
There was a strange, unplaceable resolve in her voice.
***
Meanwhile, in the largest hall of the cruise ship.
The same location where the meeting between Seo Won and the Esper Association had taken place.
Only now, it wasn’t a meeting—they were more or less imprisoned.
“This is… problematic.”
One of the youngest executives of the Esper Association looked around the room and spoke.
“It seems there’s a nullification barrier in place to suppress our abilities. But even beyond that, the doors won’t budge at all. They’ve probably piled up a bunch of crap outside to block them.”
Unlike the calm tone of the young executive, the others were in complete disarray.
“So what, we’re just supposed to sit here and rot?!”
“What about the other Espers? Aren’t there a few stationed outside?!”
“What the hell are they doing out there?!”
“This has gotta be the work of those damn terrorists, right?! They’re trying to screw us over again!”
The Association members were visibly more anxious than anyone else. Understandably so—trapped inside a barrier that rendered their powers useless, the fear of a sudden attack loomed heavy.
They couldn’t get in touch with anyone stationed outside. Wireless internet, communication devices—everything had been cut off. There was no way to contact the outside, and not a single knock had come from beyond the doors. For all they knew, chaos could already be unfolding out there and the barrier was just blocking all sound.
Damn it.
Seo Won, while appearing more composed than the other Esper Association executives, was just as on edge.
This emergency meeting had been scheduled precisely because they were wary of another terrorist incident, and yet things had come to this. He’d always known that many unregistered Espers harbored resentment toward the Association—but for them to go so far as to harass their executives at every turn?
“Director, we’ll probably be able to get out soon. Try not to worry.”
One of the bodyguards brought along from the mansion tried to reassure Seo Won.
“The connection I tethered to you must’ve snapped the moment the barrier activated. Ah-young will bring the guards soon.”
The man possessed the ability to attach invisible threads between people, and following Seo Won’s orders, he had already linked himself and Ah-young to him. Since the nullification barrier had forcibly severed those threads in an unnatural way, Jung Ah-young had surely sensed something was wrong and was already making a move. The other bodyguards, likely having received her signal, would have gone into high alert as well.
Seo Won naturally thought of Han-gyeom.
Ah-young must’ve gotten him out safely.
These types of terrorist attacks always targeted the Esper Association, so he hadn’t really considered the possibility of Han-gyeom being in danger. Still, the idea that the terrorists might use innocent civilians as pawns—that was what troubled him.
Some of the previous terrorists had taken civilians hostage to pressure the Association. They believed the Esper Association, being so image-conscious, wouldn’t dare ignore the safety of innocent lives.
Seo Won tried to reassure himself that Jung Ah-young would protect Han-gyeom well, but the unease wouldn’t go away.
If he had a seizure in this situation, things would spiral out of control.
According to Director Shin, once the seizures began, it would take less than five minutes before his entire internal system collapsed. That meant when a seizure started, someone had to be at Han-gyeom’s side within five—no, four—minutes at most.
Cha Han-gyeom…
Seo Won’s eyes darkened with rising anxiety.
I can’t just sit here like this…
His mind was entirely consumed with thoughts of Han-gyeom when—
“Director Seo, do you have a moment?”
A man approached him. It was the youngest executive, the one who had checked the hall’s entrance earlier.
He was also the first S-Rank Guide in South Korea, the one most prominently showcased by the Esper Association.
Like other S-Rank Espers around the world, the man before him was a symbolic figure—he often appeared in media and was as well-known as Seo Won himself.
But what made him truly famous—and what had elevated him to the ranks of the Association’s executives—was something else entirely.
No Esper’s ability could affect an S-Rank Guide. More precisely, it was said that an external GP-based barrier always surrounded his body, shielding him from any Esper interference.
Proof of this was seen just earlier—he had been able to touch the door and push against it directly. Other Espers had recoiled the moment they reached for it, sparks violently bursting from their fingertips.
The man—S-Rank Guide Cha Min-hyung—had met Seo Won several times before. He was also the one who, even before the emergence of Black Vein, had informed him that someone’s sigil had already been imprinted on his heart.
Staring at the entrance to the hall, Cha Min-hyung turned to Seo Won and asked,
“Roughly how many personnel are stationed outside?”
“Four Espers, four civilians.”
They had brought ten people in total, but two of them were currently trapped here with Seo Won. That meant eight remained outside—including Jung Ah-young and Lim Du-hyuk.
“They’ve probably caught on by now. One of the bodyguards I’m linked to with my ability is still outside.”
“It’s the same on our end,” Seo Won replied. “We left a few people outside too, even if it’s not many.”
Min-hyung’s expression turned uneasy.
“Then, that means nearly a dozen people are outside altogether. Isn’t it strange that not one of them has managed to reach us this whole time? Shouldn’t we at least be hearing sounds of a struggle?”
He wasn’t wrong. Now that it was mentioned, things outside had been too quiet.
“And more than that—they’ve locked us in, but they haven’t made any demands. They’re not trying to kill us either.”
A faint crease formed between Min-hyung’s brows.
“What if this isn’t their real objective?”
“What do you mean, not their objective?”
Min-hyung hesitated for a moment, as though weighing whether or not to voice his thoughts—then said something that made Seo Won’s stomach twist with unease.
“I’m saying… maybe we’re just being locked up here while they go after something else entirely.”
