“Han-gyeom!”
Cha Han-gyeom collapsed into his chair as if his legs had given out. Startled, Kang Woo-chan reached out toward the now-pale Han-gyeom.
But just then, before Woo-chan’s hands could touch him, they suddenly froze in midair. When he looked down, he saw something like transparent icy cords wrapped tightly around his wrists, their ends connected smoothly to the frozen floor. The sight resembled the way Song Jae-woo had earlier been restrained by tree roots.
“Ahhh!”
“Urgh!”
Crash!
A shrill scream and a heavy thud rang out from behind, and Woo-chan quickly turned his head.
A young man who had sprung from the ground to attack Seo Won, and another man who had attempted a stealth attack using invisibility, were simultaneously flung away. The cold aura silently circling around Seo Won had reacted the moment it sensed a nearby threat, turning into a reflective barrier that deflected their assault.
Woo-chan had no time to check their condition.
With a murderous glint in his eyes, Seo Won was sprinting toward them at high speed.
“Woo-chan, watch out!”
A woman hiding in the shadows reached out toward Seo Won. At that moment, thick tree roots burst from the ground, cracking and tearing up the wooden floor as they surged forward, following Seo Won’s path with a crunching sound. The splintered floorboards scattered and rained down upon him, but he didn’t even flinch, charging straight ahead toward Woo-chan and Han-gyeom.
Some of the roots aimed for Seo Won’s legs and arms, while others tangled ahead of him like interwoven fingers, forming a makeshift barricade to block his path.
But dozens of razor-sharp, thin ice shards materialized midair and shot out in all directions, slicing clean through the thick roots. Seo Won trampled the restraining tendrils without hesitation and tore through the shallow barricade in front of him like paper.
“Ah! Wh-what the hell is this?!”
“Guh!”
Panicked voices echoed from behind.
It was the two men Seo Won had knocked aside earlier and the woman who had tried to bind him with tree roots. All of them had been completely frozen stiff, their bodies encased in transparent ice that had risen from the ground up to their necks. No matter how they twisted or thrashed, the thin ice restraining them refused to crack.
Worse yet, for some reason, they couldn’t use their abilities.
The ice encasing their bodies seemed to devour their ESP the moment they tried to summon it.
Because of that, the man who had been using invisibility was now fully exposed, his entire body plainly visible.
And they weren’t the only ones hiding in the dark to protect Kang Woo-chan.
Another man soared high into the air, defying gravity, and then unleashed a crushing gravitational field aimed straight down at Seo Won, intending to flatten him entirely.
Those who had previously been caught in this man’s gravity field had always ended up face-down, pinned to the ground by overwhelming pressure. It was such a jarring force that people would instinctively lose control of their abilities for a moment—exactly the opening the woman who could block and suppress others’ ESP was counting on to subdue Seo Won completely.
The woman, too, was floating midair thanks to an Esper who controlled gravity. It was a deliberate move—she had figured out that Seo Won’s freezing ability activated from the ground up, so staying off the floor was her way of avoiding being helplessly restrained.
But just as the man was about to unleash a gravity field on Seo Won, he suddenly staggered under the weight that landed heavily on both his shoulders.
“Well now, you’re a dangerous bastard, aren’t you?”
“Gah!”
The man cried out in shock as he saw Yoon Jeong-ho wrapping an arm tightly around his neck from behind.
Returning at just the right moment, Yoon Jeong-ho had recognized the man’s ability the instant he stepped into the ruined cathedral. That was thanks to Seo Won, who had warned him in advance about the possible abilities of the Espers waiting inside.
Teleporting right behind the man—while in midair, no less—Jeong-ho immediately seized him from behind and plunged a syringe loaded with fast-acting anesthetic deep into his neck.
The anesthetic, injected instantly through a short needle, hit its mark, and the man’s eyes rolled back as he collapsed straight to the ground. Fortunately, he landed on a pile of old chairs stacked in a corner, sparing him from any serious injury.
Yoon Jeong-ho, who had nearly fallen with him, had already teleported to a hidden spot in the corner of the cathedral and was silently clutching his chest in relief.
“Kyaaa!”
As the man’s ability dissipated, the woman who had been preparing to fly toward Seo Won was flung helplessly to the ground. There, the transparent ice coating the floor was waiting, immediately locking her down.
Inside the cathedral—five Espers, subdued.
If the estimate was correct, there should be one more. But there was no time to waste searching for someone who remained unseen.
“Cha Han-gyeom!”
Seo Won had already raced up to the altar. He shoved Kang Woo-chan aside and came face to face with Han-gyeom. Woo-chan could’ve been bound with ice, but Seo Won knew he’d break through it instantly—it would be pointless. Besides, Han-gyeom, who was clearly in distress, was right there in front of him. There was no time to worry about anything else.
Seo Won dropped to one knee in front of the hunched-over Han-gyeom and cupped his face with both hands.
“Is this a seizure? Han-gyeom, come on—snap out of it!”
He spoke urgently, but Han-gyeom only trembled, his dull eyes rolling aimlessly. He didn’t even manage a proper response.
Staring at him, Seo Won realized this wasn’t a seizure. Something was off.
The ice apple he had given Han-gyeom, meant to comfort him, had turned black in his hand. And even with his Imprint right there in front of him, Han-gyeom showed no signs of improvement.
“I… I wish they were all dead… I want them all to die…”
Han-gyeom’s voice was barely a whisper, so fragile it seemed like it might disappear at any moment.
Woo-chan stood silently, staring at the trembling Han-gyeom and Seo Won, whose expression had gone cold and grave.
The moment Seo Won entered the abandoned cathedral, Woo-chan had realized it.
This wasn’t Seo Won’s real body—it was a clone.
Which meant it was nothing more than a moving mass created with ESP.
Even the slightest touch would be enough for the GP surrounding Woo-chan’s body to react. The moment Seo Won’s ESP came into contact with it, it would explode completely. That precisely-crafted clone would shatter into cold shards of ice and vanish across the floor.
But Woo-chan couldn’t bring himself to reach out to Seo Won.
He had a gut feeling—if he destroyed Seo Won’s clone now, there would be no one left who could help Cha Han-gyeom.
All Kang Woo-chan could do was clench his fists tightly and watch the two of them in silence.
“Yeon-woo, hyung… kill them… all of them… leave no one…”
Han-gyeom’s broken voice came in gasps, as if it might snap apart with every breath.
“Cha Han-gyeom!”
“H-Hyung, Yeon-woo hyung…”
Tears welled heavily in Han-gyeom’s eyes, barely hanging on as they clung to his lashes.
Seo Won stared at Han-gyeom, who was calling another man’s name even with him right in front of him, and felt a dull ache in the corner of his chest.
Song Yeon-woo was no longer of this world.
And yet, Han-gyeom was still reaching for him.
“Song Yeon-woo is gone.”
At those cold words, Han-gyeom’s breath hitched and his lashes quivered. His gaze, which had been wandering aimlessly between damp, trembling eyelids, finally locked onto Seo Won.
“Why…?”
“Because he’s dead.”
“Dead…?”
Han-gyeom slowly shook his head, as if trying to reject reality.
“No way… His ability… he can’t… die…”
Unable to finish his sentence, Han-gyeom swallowed hard, and his distorted face crumpled as the tears streamed down without end.
“He wasn’t supposed to die… but I killed him…”
The guilt in his voice was unbearable.
Seo Won assumed Han-gyeom was blaming himself for not guiding Song Yeon-woo in time. That must be why Yeon-woo lost control and ended up dead, turned to ash, even though he had the ability of immortality.
“It’s not your fault.”
“No… I… I even took revenge… on hyung…”
The word revenge caught Seo Won off guard—but this wasn’t the time to press for answers.
Still cupping Han-gyeom’s face, Seo Won leaned in and rested his forehead against his.
The feverish heat radiating from Han-gyeom surged through Seo Won’s forehead in a rush.
“It’s okay.”
“Yeon-woo hyung… he’s gone… sob he’s dead… now… there’s no one… left for me…”
“You have me.”
Seo Won didn’t know why Han-gyeom was like this all of a sudden. He didn’t know who Han-gyeom wanted to kill, or what that revenge was about. He didn’t understand any of it.
But there was one thing he could say for sure.
“If there’s someone you want dead, I’ll kill them for you. If you need someone to comfort you, I’ll be that person too.”
Though his voice was soft and kind, Seo Won’s eyes never left Han-gyeom’s for a single second.
Every time tears streamed from Han-gyeom’s eyes, Seo Won’s heart ached so intensely it was almost unbearable. It felt as if a brute hand were squeezing his heart tight, crushing it—an unfamiliar and excruciating sensation. He would’ve preferred a broken arm or a stab wound—physical pain would’ve been far easier to endure.
It wasn’t just because they were Imprinted.
The pain stemmed from the emotional and spiritual link they shared—his own will and feelings deeply connected to Han-gyeom’s heartache. The anguish in his chest was so heavy it made it hard to breathe. And Han-gyeom’s condition, which couldn’t even be forcibly stabilized with Seo Won’s ESP, only made that pain tighten even more.
“I’ll be by your side until the day you die…”
Seo Won’s face slowly twisted with helpless sorrow.
“So please, stop crying.”
