To truly complete the mission successfully, both for HR and PR, they needed to capture Seon Ak-yul and witness Han Yeo-ul’s ability firsthand.
“Yeo-ul, come here. I’ll hold you, so grab onto your clothes properly.”
Kwon Ho-eun, crouched down, pulled Han Yeo-ul into his arms. She was so light that even with her legs halfway extended, he barely felt any weight. It was odd—maybe she hadn’t been eating properly.
“What do you like, Yeo-ul?”
“Strawberry cake…”
“Yeah? I know a place that’s really good. Wanna go eat some when this is over?”
“…”
Her pitch-black eyes looked up at him in silence, as if trying to figure out whether he meant harm or not.
In this thick cloud of cigarette smoke and the air buzzing with curses, Ho-eun gave her a harmless smile, trying to reassure her.
He then brought out the Dokkaebi Fire that had been hidden in his hand. The flame floated down to the floor and began moving, almost as if leading the way.
“Are you telling us to follow you?”
Vwoong, vwoong
The Dokkaebi Fire bobbed up and down as if responding with a yes.
“Kinda cute, actually.”
Ho-eun adjusted his grip on Han Yeo-ul and started walking, following the glowing flame. From the sounds of it, Nam Woon-soo and Bae Yeon-woo were still having a hard time with Seon Ak-yul—the noise coming from their direction didn’t sound like things were under control.
“Where’s the key?!”
“Key? I swallowed it. What now?”
“You crazy motherf—!!”
Seon Ak-yul’s voice was vicious, while Bae Yeon-woo still sounded calm and collected.
Looks like things are okay on their end.
The bigger issue now was entrusting Han Yeo-ul to Do In-ho, then getting her parents out of the electric prison where the civilians were trapped.
“Yeo-ul… honestly, your parents might actually be safer in that prison.”
“Daddy’s hand… needs a hospital.”
“Ah.”
Ho-eun shut his mouth. She had clearly seen her father’s injury at some point—and now, she was calmly stating it in that steady voice of hers.
First, get her parents out and send them to the hospital… No, wait—things probably won’t go that smoothly.
—Thunk
“!!”
While following the Dokkaebi Fire, Ho-eun bumped into someone. Was it a Dragon gang member? Or maybe someone on their side?
“Kw-Kwon Ho-eun…?”
“Oh. Sun… sir?”
Ho-eun remembered the man who’d said he was a fan back at the shoot. The dealer had called him Sun. When Ho-eun said the name aloud, the man hesitated for a moment before finally responding.
“Th-the fire went out. Where do I go now?”
“I’m trying to regroup with my team. Follow me, stay behind.”
“Y-yes. Ah, so you saved the kid.”
“Yeah. Not completely yet, though.”
Feeling curious at the unfamiliar voice, Han Yeo-ul stirred slightly in Ho-eun’s arms.
“…H-hi.”
Sun greeted her gently. But Yeo-ul just stared at him hard, then buried her face back in Ho-eun’s chest without saying a word.
“…”
Sun stood there, stunned. Ho-eun lightly tapped his arm, prompting him to move.
Meanwhile, the Dokkaebi Fire hovered in circles around Sun, almost as if annoyed, as though signaling, There’s someone suspicious here—come get him.
“Do In-ho.”
Ho-eun called the name like a warning, and the Dokkaebi Fire, as if scolded, turned and resumed its path forward.
When they finally arrived, the flame bounced up and down in front of Do In-ho.
“Ho-eun hyung.”
Do In-ho spoke softly, placing a hand on Ho-eun’s shoulder and guiding him toward the wall. Sun, unsure of what to do, lingered awkwardly behind.
“You’re not hurt, right?”
“I’m fine. What about the department head and the rest of the HR team?”
“They’re being escorted out from the electric prison. A support team arrived outside.”
As soon as Yeo-ul heard the unfamiliar voice, she gripped Ho-eun’s shirt tightly.
“Yeo-ul, this is another bunny.”
“??”
To calm her, he referred to the “bunny” metaphor he’d used earlier to explain allies. Yeo-ul looked up at the large-framed Do In-ho with her small eyes, then slowly relaxed her grip.
“Take Han Yeo-ul up. I’ll stay and block the anti-government from coming up the stairs.”
When Sun tried to follow Ho-eun, Do In-ho extended an arm to stop him.
“If you’ve got nothing to do, you can stay down here.”
“Come on, In-ho, he’s a civilian.”
Do In-ho frowned as Ho-eun scolded him, then shoved Sun toward the stairs.
“Just go straight up that way.”
“Hmm… Alright.”
The Dokkaebi Fire now hovered beside Ho-eun, as if determined to only illuminate his path.
As they slowly climbed the stairs, they saw Eom Tae-seok and Kang Him-chan dismantling the electric prison and helping civilians one by one.
Further up, Ho-eun spotted Eom Seong-chan—only, there were multiple copies of him.
“Guess his ability lets him clone himself or something.”
The Eom Seong-chans were organizing civilians while Paul teleported them away two at a time.
“Mr. Sun, go through that way. You’ll be able to escape from here.”
“What about you, Mr. Kwon?”
“I still have things to take care of. I’ll leave later.”
Sun stood at the stairs leading to the first floor, watching Ho-eun walk away without turning back.
“…Heroes really are cool.”
His words didn’t reach Ho-eun’s ears.
“Department Head!”
Ho-eun spotted Eom Tae-seok and called out urgently.
“Where are Han Yeo-ul’s parents?”
“Over there, waiting.”
Following Eom Tae-seok’s pointing finger, he saw five civilians near Kang Him-chan.
“Mom…”
As Ho-eun set Yeo-ul down, she wriggled free and ran straight toward her parents.
“Y-Yeo-ul?”
The woman who called her name flinched and stepped back, her face drained of color.
Just as Ho-eun noticed something off about her expression and stepped forward, Kang Him-chan intercepted.
“You’re here?”
“Yeah. The support team from HQ—is that them up top?”
“Correct. They’re moving the hostages. Once they reach the upper level, Team Leader Eom Seong-chan is wiping their memories.”
“Wiping their memories?”
“Chairman’s orders. Not sure how much of the incident you were briefed on, but he told us to prioritize moving the civilians first.”
“Wait—are you saying they’re trying to exclude someone problematic among the hostages?”
Ho-eun remembered the man who’d screamed, Do you know who I am?!
They were supposed to hand over the entire site to the police after wrapping up. Those guilty of gambling and drug use had to face justice. But it felt like the wealthy ones might slip through the cracks.
“That’s highly likely.”
“Tch.”
A scoff slipped from Ho-eun’s lips. If you’re going to command the site, you should give orders that actually help on the ground. He couldn’t help but wonder how the chairman had landed his position.
“By the way, what are you planning to do with Han Yeo-ul’s parents? From what I heard, they’re deeply tied to the anti-government group.”
“What are you talking about?”
Eom Tae-seok, who’d been helping people escape with a golf club in hand, joined the conversation.Ho-eun quickly relayed what he’d learned below.
“The adoption of Han Yeo-ul was part of the anti-government group’s plan. From what I heard, they were even given money to raise her. There was a condition: if she ever showed signs of having an ability, they were to report it.”
“That’s extreme. There wouldn’t even be solid proof she’d awaken as an Esper.”
Eom Tae-seok stroked his neatly trimmed beard, a suspicious look on his face.
“How’s her dad’s hand? Looked like it was crushed—he might lose it if it’s not treated properly.”
“We’ve got an ambulance from our side on standby up top. Since he’s a civilian and involved in a crime, a healing Esper can’t treat him, so we’ll be transferring him to a hospital.”
Eom Tae-seok looked down at Han Yeo-ul. She was holding her mother’s stiff shoulder, whispering something too quiet for anyone else to hear.
“Han Yeo-ul can’t go up.”
“What?”
“They’re wiping everyone’s memories up there, right? Since there’s no evidence she’s awakened as an Esper, she’d be treated as a civilian. Her memories would be erased, and she’d be sent home.”
“But—she is an Esper! Otherwise, why would the anti-government group go this far?”
Ho-eun, nearly shouting, caught himself and lowered his voice in case Yeo-ul heard.
“That’s company policy. She’s classified as a civilian. We erase her memory and send her home—that’s the extent of what we can do.”
“Is there any other way?”
“There are two options: Send her up and erase her memory, or keep her here until we confirm her ability manifests.”
A thin line wrinkled Ho-eun’s composed forehead. He bit his lower lip hard enough to taste blood, but he didn’t notice—the anger boiling inside had clouded everything.
And what, we’re supposed to leave a child in a battlefield like this? Even if we protect her, anything could happen! She could get caught in an Esper attack, or worse—captured by the anti-government group.”
“…”
Kang Him-chan gently held Ho-eun back.
“There’s no other choice. HR strictly follows company policy. Keeping a civilian—especially a child—on-site is a violation in itself.”
Ho-eun raked his messy bangs back with a heavy sigh. Whoever made these rules must’ve been an idiot.
“…Mister?”
Sensing his gaze, Yeo-ul turned to look at Ho-eun. The bunny-print pajamas she wore looked wildly out of place in this scene.
“Did you say goodbye to your mom?”
Yeo-ul gave a blank nod. Ho-eun wavered. The field was dangerous. He wanted to send her up right now. But that was exactly what the anti-government group wanted.
“If we don’t see her ability before the mission ends, we’ll return to just observing her.”
Kang Him-chan laid it out bluntly.
Crash! Bang!
The noise downstairs hadn’t stopped. The fight clearly wasn’t over. Bae Yeon-woo might be winning in terms of words, but subduing Seon Ak-yul’s power wasn’t proving easy. The sounds from below echoed like the ticking of a time bomb. If he didn’t choose soon, the bomb would explode.
What should I do…?
Leave Han Yeo-ul in this dangerous situation? When he’d radioed from Basement Level 2, he’d been sure she was an Esper.
He still was. But what visible proof did they have…?
“There’s no way to force an ability to manifest, right?”
“Not unless the person consciously wills it. From what I’ve heard, most Espers gain control when they realize for themselves that they are one…”
Han Yeo-ul was only ten. And she had to realize that she was an Esper, just like that?
Even now, Ho-eun was fumbling with his explanation of her precognitive ability, resorting to stories about bunnies. There was no good way to explain the situation to a child and ask her to demonstrate an ability.
His eyes trembled— Then came a calm, clear voice from the child.
“When I’m with Mom… I can’t see my future.”
“…”
Han Yeo-ul took slow steps toward him.
“But when I’m with you, I can.”
