After their intimate encounter in the confined space, Cha Han-gyeom remained slumped against Seo Won’s chest, his head resting comfortably on Seo Won’s shoulder. The steady rhythm of Seo Won’s heartbeat and the warmth of his body lulled Cha Han-gyeom into a state of drowsiness, making him feel like he could drift off to sleep at any moment.
Seo Won gently stroked Cha Han-gyeom’s hair, his touch soothing and tender. “If you’re sleepy, take a nap,” he suggested softly.
“Mm-hmm…” Cha Han-gyeom murmured in response, though he had no real intention of sleeping. The deep guiding through their intimate connection always left him feeling drained and disoriented. His body ached, and his energy levels, including his GP, were depleted, leaving his mind equally exhausted. In this state, the complex thoughts that had troubled him earlier seemed to fade away. He wanted to savor this moment of mental stillness.
Cha Han-gyeom slowly blinked his eyes, gazing out the window while still leaning against Seo Won’s shoulder. The sight of the calm sea, with its gentle waves, soothed his weary mind.
“Seo Won,” Cha Han-gyeom called out softly, feeling Seo Won’s head lean gently against his.
“What is it?” Seo Won asked, his voice low and steady.
Cha Han-gyeom kept his gaze fixed on the sea as he asked, “Aren’t you afraid?”
Seo Won didn’t question the sudden query, instead waiting patiently for Cha Han-gyeom to elaborate.
“Aren’t you afraid of dying?” Cha Han-gyeom clarified.
Seo Won understood then why Cha Han-gyeom was asking. He had met with Chairman Seo Gyu-seok, who desperately wanted him to live, and Yoon Jeong-ho and Ha Tae-soo, who seemed to wish for his demise. The tension and danger surrounding him were palpable.
Seo Won recalled the moment on the sea when Cha Han-gyeom had angrily confronted him, frustration evident in his voice. A small smile played on Seo Won’s lips at the memory.
“I am afraid,” Seo Won admitted simply.
Cha Han-gyeom looked up at him, their eyes meeting. Seo Won’s eyes, usually as cold and blue as ice, seemed to waver slightly, like the sea outside.
“If I wasn’t afraid of dying, I wouldn’t have undergone a heart transplant with uncertain odds, and I wouldn’t have sought you out,” Seo Won explained.
Cha Han-gyeom pressed his lips together, absorbing Seo Won’s words. “I see,” he replied softly.
It was fear that drove Seo Won to such extremes—fear that led him to take Song Yeon-woo’s heart, all for the sake of his own survival.
Cha Han-gyeom had initially asked the question because Seo Won’s life was constantly in danger, and he was genuinely curious about why Seo Won seemed so calm despite the threats. He had expected Seo Won to brush off the danger, to boldly declare that he wasn’t afraid and challenge anyone who dared to threaten him. However, Seo Won’s honesty took him by surprise.
The admission that Seo Won was afraid of dying stirred a mix of emotions within Cha Han-gyeom. At first, he had felt a sense of pity for Seo Won, who seemed to stand alone on thin ice, surrounded by enemies. Apart from those he paid, Seo Won had no true allies. He appeared isolated, even when surrounded by people, and his solitary figure, often confined to his quiet office, seemed to reflect a lifetime of loneliness—a mirror of Cha Han-gyeom’s own experiences of being overworked by countless Esper and left to endure in silence.
Yet, hearing Seo Won admit his fear brought forth a surge of anger and injustice. The face of Song Yeon-woo flashed in his mind, and he couldn’t ignore the boiling resentment. The thought of Seo Won, who resembled him in so many ways, taking away his beloved mentor was unbearable.
“I am still afraid,” Seo Won confessed. “Perhaps because I nearly lost my life once and barely held on. Living has become desperately important to me, more than ever.”
His words rang with a truth that Cha Han-gyeom couldn’t deny. He listened intently, biting the inside of his cheek to keep his emotions in check. Seo Won’s eyes, usually so composed, flickered with a rare vulnerability.
“Though it’s better than before,” Seo Won added, a hint of self-mockery in his voice. He was recalling a time roughly a year and a half ago, just before his 32nd birthday.
“Knowing the exact day you will die is incredibly painful,” Seo Won reflected. Back then, he had maintained an outwardly stoic demeanor, refusing to show any weakness. He demanded perfection from himself and others, making flawless decisions that led to remarkable achievements, even impressing the Esper Association. Yet, beneath his composed exterior, he was crumbling.
“As the day approached, I felt helpless,” Seo Won admitted. “Knowing there was nothing I could do, I felt my power slipping away, my blood running cold.”
He had witnessed the inevitable deaths of his family members, and when his own time came, he felt the world collapsing around him. All his accomplishments seemed meaningless. Even as a highly regarded S-rank Esper, he was powerless against the curse that plagued his family. That realization dragged him down, like sinking into dark, thick mud. The dreadful sensation lingered until the day before his heart transplant surgery.
“Even the day before the surgery, I was pessimistic about the heart transplant,” Seo Won confessed.
Seo Won recalled the face of Director Shin, the surgeon who had confidently assured him of the success of the heart transplant.
“The transplant of an Esper’s organ is much more difficult than that of an ordinary person,” Seo Won explained. “The ESP rating and frequency must match perfectly for the transplant to be successful.”
Despite Director Shin’s assurances, Seo Won remembered the tension etched on the doctor’s face. Although Director Shin was a skilled Esper and a renowned surgeon, an S-rank Esper heart transplant was unprecedented worldwide. While the matching ESP rating and frequency increased the chances of success, there was no guarantee of a 100% successful outcome.
Furthermore, Seo Won’s body was cursed, adding another layer of complexity. If the curse interpreted the momentary absence of his heart as ‘death,’ the transplant could fail, leading to his immediate demise.
“When Director Shin told me he had prepared a heart that matched my frequency, I honestly didn’t believe him,” Seo Won admitted. “I thought it was a last-ditch effort to give me a glimmer of hope before I died.”
Seo Won had been resigned to the failure of the heart transplant. The timely appearance of a perfectly matched heart seemed too good to be true, but more importantly, the fact that his relatives had not escaped death weighed heavily on him. Surrounded by the shadow of death, Seo Won had been too despondent to harbor any hope.
Lost in his memories, Seo Won was abruptly brought back to the present by Cha Han-gyeom’s trembling voice. Cha Han-gyeom’s complexion had paled, and his face, previously strained from suppressing his emotions, now showed signs of shock.
“Wait… a moment….” Cha Han-gyeom stammered, his voice barely audible.
Seo Won noticed the distress in Cha Han-gyeom’s eyes, which darted around in confusion. Instinctively, Seo Won reached out to support Cha Han-gyeom, fearing he might collapse. Before Seo Won could ask if he was alright, Cha Han-gyeom spoke first.
“Did Director Shin tell you he had ‘prepared a heart’ for you?” Cha Han-gyeom asked, his voice shaking as much as his eyes. “When did you hear this?”
Seo Won’s expression hardened at the question, though he didn’t understand the reason behind Cha Han-gyeom’s reaction. He decided to answer honestly.
“A week before the heart transplant,” Seo Won replied.
Cha Han-gyeom’s eyes widened in disbelief. “A week… before…?” he repeated, his voice filled with incredulity.
Seo Won nodded, confirming his statement. Cha Han-gyeom’s voice, laced with emotion, pressed further.
“So, you didn’t know about the heart until then? How is that possible?!” Cha Han-gyeom demanded, his breath hitching.
He stared at Seo Won with fierce, accusatory eyes, as if searching for any sign of deceit. However, all he found was genuine concern on Seo Won’s face.
“I have no reason to lie to you. It’s the truth,” Seo Won said, his sincere voice making Cha Han-gyeom feel dizzy.
The heart, Song Yeon-woo’s heart, had been extracted for Seo Won four years before the transplant surgery. However, Seo Won had only learned of the heart’s existence a week prior to the surgery. The vast discrepancy in time made Cha Han-gyeom realize that something was terribly wrong.
