Ghost Apple – 64

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Five days had passed since the cruise party.

Cha Han-gyeom hadn’t left Seo Won’s room since then. No—couldn’t was the more accurate word.

“My head… it hurts.”

Han-gyeom sat by the window, resting his pounding forehead in one hand.

Because he had used his GP in a way other than for standard Guiding on the cruise, his body had taken a serious toll.

His BEN (Blocking Extrasensory Neuron) ability—one that creates countless intricate GP barriers along the ESP flow pathways to block their movement—caused severe backlash depending on how it was used.

At the product demonstration, he had used the technique to stabilize the ESP rampaging inside Seo Won. He gently dismantled the flow, then wrapped it in dense, solidified GP walls, encasing it from front and back to keep it contained.

In fact, the entire reason the researchers at the Fourth Ability Analysis Research Facility had poured so much effort into developing BEN was to find a way to prevent experimental subjects from going berserk.

When used in this standard form, it didn’t strain the body.

However, Han-gyeom had modified his own GP in a way the researchers hadn’t imagined.

He took the high-density GP—normally used to soothe and suppress unstable ESP—and compressed it even further to create a fortified barrier.

ESP pathways naturally had a tendency to absorb and consume GP.

So even if there was a barrier, if it was made from GP, the ESP would instinctively lunge at it, mouth wide open, ready to devour. Not realizing that Han-gyeom’s barrier was engineered to suppress ESP in unnatural ways.

Once the ESP started gnawing away at the GP walls, it ended up pinned to the ground like a crushed insect, unable to move. The same effect rippled back to the Esper themselves.

That’s why Espers hit by BEN often reacted as if they’d been tasered—convulsing before collapsing in full paralysis.

And yet, even while flattened as if possessed, the black haze of ESP continued chewing through the crimson barrier, driven purely by instinct. Only once it managed to eat through and make a hole would it finally regain some mobility.

To fully seal away an Esper’s powers and movements like that required a transformed, ultra-high-density GP. And to keep them sealed for an extended time, the wall had to be made thicker still. Naturally, this meant an astronomical amount of GP loss and a brutal drain on Han-gyeom’s stamina to refine it all.

As a result, he’d been bedridden for four full days. Though, to be fair, Seo Won’s feral frenzy on the cruise hadn’t helped.

Thankfully, after getting enough rest, he could now move around without issue.

It also helped that Seo Won had flat-out refused to receive any Guiding until Han-gyeom was well enough to run again, giving him ample time for his GP reserves to recover.

Still, there was no avoiding the sudden, stabbing headaches that assaulted him from time to time.

“These migraines just won’t go away…”

Whenever Han-gyeom overused his GP, the migraines would come creeping in. Right now, he had more than enough GP to spare, but once a headache started as a warning, it lingered, gnawing at him relentlessly.

He knew exactly what it was warning him about.

If he pushed himself too far and drained his GP completely, he wouldn’t be able to stop the seizures. His GP was desperately holding back Song Yeon-woo’s ESP, which had tightly enveloped his decayed internal organs—barely keeping him stable. The migraines were his body’s way of panicking, dreading what might happen if the host started collapsing from the inside.

Still, it was strange—if he smoked a cigarette, his mind cleared slightly, and the headache would ease. The negative thoughts would settle, and a sense of calm would wash over his body.

Han-gyeom placed a sleek silver cigarette case and a crystal-clear glass ashtray on the windowsill, then picked up a single cigarette. He’d been lighting up constantly every time the pain hit, so this was the very last one inside the case.

He flicked a disposable lighter and brought it to the thin, elegant cigarette. A clean flame caught quickly, and soon the tip burned bright red.

Han-gyeom absentmindedly looked down at the lighter in his hand.

The bright red, cheap plastic was filled with shimmering liquid gas. It had been full the first time he used it, but now only about a third remained. It was a clear testament to just how many cigarettes he’d smoked.

Tearing his gaze away from the lighter, Han-gyeom exhaled a long stream of smoke and stared out the window.

“Hoo…”

Beyond the drifting smoke, he could see people bustling about in the distance.

Unlike his usual room, Seo Won’s room offered a direct view of the main entrance. Thanks to that, watching the steady flow of people coming and going throughout the day helped time pass surprisingly fast.

Han-gyeom stared outside in a daze, slowly puffing on his cigarette. Eventually, the last group to visit—dressed in formal suits—climbed into their car and left.

‘Looks like that’s everyone.’

Just as he crushed the finished cigarette into the ashtray and stood up, he realized that for the first time all day, his pounding headache had completely cleared. It would probably come crashing back again once the nicotine wore off.

Hopefully, he could restock on cigarettes before that happened. There were still a few hours to go before Seo Won’s part was wrapped up.

Han-gyeom headed for the door, but just as he reached for the handle, he suddenly paused. He raised an arm and sniffed his shirt.

‘Pungent.’

Of course it was.

He’d been chain-smoking since morning, so it was no surprise that his clothes reeked of cigarettes.

Even if Seo Won had allowed him to smoke, he wasn’t a smoker himself.

There was no way he’d welcome this stench that even Han-gyeom found overpowering.

“Hmph…”

After a brief moment of contemplation, Han-gyeom turned back around and yanked off his shirt. Then he stepped into the walk-in closet where Seo Won’s clothes were displayed.

A moment later—

Wearing one of Seo Won’s significantly larger shirts, Han-gyeom looked at his reflection in the mirror. The hem of the white shirt—rarely worn by Seo Won anymore due to the Black Vein—draped all the way down to Han-gyeom’s thighs.

There weren’t any spare clothes in Seo Won’s room that Han-gyeom could wear.

Each day, once Seo Won headed to the office, a servant who brought his meals or Lim Du-hyuk, who stood guard outside, would leave a clean set of that day’s shirt, pants, and underwear. So, with no spares provided, whatever was left behind for that day was all there was to wear. That meant, if he wanted to change into anything while still inside this room, the only option was to wear Seo Won’s clothes.

Of course, he could ask Lim Du-hyuk for something extra.

But Han-gyeom had no intention of doing that.

He deliberately chose to wear Seo Won’s shirt, casually left the buttons undone all the way down to his chest, and let the long sleeves hang down far enough to cover the backs of his hands.

“It’d be perfect if I could go without pants too… but that might be pushing it.”

If he really wanted to go all in, ditching not just the pants but the underwear as well would’ve had the most impact. But even if Lim Du-hyuk outside wouldn’t react, showing up like that in front of Jung Ah-young, who guarded the office door, would be way too embarrassing.

So Han-gyeom settled for a compromise and headed for the door. Unlike the door in his previous room—which couldn’t even be opened from the inside and was equipped with an external lock—this one opened smoothly, with nothing blocking his way.

“Do you… need anything, sir?”

Du-hyuk, who had been standing by the door, turned to face him and momentarily froze.

“Shall I fetch you a change of clothes?”

“No, it’s fine. I’m just going to grab some cigarettes.”

Han-gyeom stepped out, lifting the empty cigarette case slightly to show his intention—as if he’d only thrown something on to briefly go pick up more smokes.

Which, to be fair, wasn’t wrong.

Du-hyuk checked the case and gave a small nod.

“Understood. I’ll accompany you.”

He’d been instructed to accompany Han-gyeom if he went out to get cigarettes, rather than stop him.

Something as trivial as cigarettes seemed like it could’ve been handled by anyone, but apparently, to Seo Won, it held a particular significance.

Taking into account the complex structure of the mansion, Du-hyuk took the lead. Although Han-gyeom had been staying here for nearly a month, he’d spent most of that time confined to a single room and still didn’t know the layout well. Not to mention, the place was intentionally built like a maze.

As they made their way through the halls, Han-gyeom noticed the servants bustling about. Every time one of them crossed paths with him, they bowed respectfully.

They had been polite from the start, but something had changed—they felt even more formal now, and more affectionate in the way they treated him. Not just like a distinguished guest, but more like someone who now belonged in the mansion… like one of its masters.

Before long, Du-hyuk and Han-gyeom arrived at the office door.

“Han-gyeom-ssi!”

Unlike Du-hyuk, who barely acknowledged him, Ah-young beamed and grabbed Han-gyeom’s hand excitedly. Her eyes darted up and down his outfit.

“Oh my gosh, what’s today’s look?! Is it ‘Please devour me’?”

“Nope. Just ‘Gimme my cigarettes.’”

Feigning innocence, Han-gyeom replied nonchalantly, and Ah-young laughed in delight, shaking his hand enthusiastically in hers.

“Whatever it is, I love it! I wanna take a picture!”

“Jung Ah-young, don’t get loud in front of the office.”

“Ah, sorry!”

Startled by Du-hyuk’s stern tone, Ah-young let go of Han-gyeom’s hand and cleared her throat awkwardly.

“Director Yoon is inside right now, but he said to let you in anytime you came, so it should be fine.”

She gave a quick knock—knock knock—then called inside to announce Han-gyeom’s arrival and immediately opened the door.