“Cha Han-gyeom?”
“Can’t you tell? He’s probably inside there.”
At Seo Won’s brief question, Yoon Jeong-ho wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and snapped back irritably.
No matter how high-tech a GPS might be, unless you’re in a wide-open clearing, there’s always going to be a slight margin of error when transmitting coordinates to a satellite. Fortunately, aside from the ruined cathedral right in front of them, there weren’t any significant structures nearby, making it relatively easy to pinpoint the location.
More than anything, the Espers stationed in front of the cathedral served as an unmistakable marker.
Seo Won waved his hand at the Espers who charged at him without so much as asking who he was. Since he was only a clone, he couldn’t even use half of his actual abilities—but that much was more than enough.
In an instant, the air froze solid. A chilling frost so bitter it felt like it could freeze your lungs just from breathing, rushed forward like a massive hand, ready to seize them all at once.
Those who had been about to lunge at Seo Won immediately flung their bodies backward to escape the attack’s range. The ground they’d been standing on froze completely, not just the air but even the dirt beneath their feet turned hard as stone.
Before anyone noticed, a nearly perfect circular frozen zone had spread from where Seo Won stood all the way to the cathedral entrance.
“Shit, I told you not to pull that crap. It’s cold as fuck.”
Now that his foul mouth had broken loose, Yoon Jeong-ho huddled in on himself, shivering uncontrollably as he glared at Seo Won. Meanwhile, Seo Won remained completely unfazed, as if he couldn’t feel the cold at all. His eyes didn’t even register Yoon Jeong-ho’s grumbling—they were locked instead on the dozen or so Espers who had retreated into formation around them.
“What are you waiting for? I came all this way myself—might as well kill me!”
“One of them’s a spatial ability user. Seo Won’s the only one with offensive power!”
“Kill him! That bastard needs to die right here!”
The Espers who had been exuding murderous intent toward Seo Won suddenly became shrouded in a dark aura.
A man let out a shout and slammed his hand to the ground. At that very moment, a sharp spike of earth erupted from directly beneath where Seo Won had just been standing.
As if he had anticipated it all along, Seo Won dodged effortlessly and yanked Yoon Jeong-ho back by the collar.
“Gahk!”
The sudden motion left Yoon Jeong-ho gasping and stumbling backward. If Seo Won had been even a second slower, that jagged spike would’ve split his crotch wide open.
While Yoon Jeong-ho struggled to catch his breath, Seo Won deftly avoided an invisible blade of wind that sliced toward him. Though it couldn’t be seen, thanks to Han-gyeom’s warning, Seo Won had scattered ultra-fine ice particles that weren’t affected by gravity—particles that allowed him to see the wavering air currents and react in time.
Even after that, a barrage of attacks continued to rain down on Seo Won and Yoon Jeong-ho.
Some looked like simple fireballs but actually contained hidden fragmentation explosives. Others sent poison-laced streams shooting up from the ground. One attacker appeared to be a standard physical-enhancement type, but in reality, he was an Esper who could paralyze you the moment your shadow overlapped with his.
Various attacks rained down—each disguised in forms that couldn’t be discerned just by appearance or the flow of ESP. Because of the indiscriminate nature of the assault, which was far beyond what he could handle, Yoon Jeong-ho had long since teleported to safety. As a result, Seo Won was left to deal with every last attack alone.
And yet, strangely enough, Seo Won didn’t seem startled or panicked, not even once.
He evaded each assault with practiced ease, as if he had known exactly what to expect. Not only that—he managed to completely seal the off-guard Espers in ice. In an instant, their bodies were encased in transparent frost from their feet to their necks. One after another, they stared at Seo Won in disbelief.
With just a flick of his wrist or a subtle glance, the air responded—shifting naturally with his will.
The faint black aura radiating from Seo Won had already bound the surrounding Espers in place.
Seo Won turned his attention to the Espers frozen in place by the chill in the air—unaware they had been caught until it was too late.
‘Sixteen visible targets.’
This place was definitely the main hideout where Kang Woo-chan would be.
In that case, it should’ve been more heavily guarded than the others. But the numbers were surprisingly low.
No—rather than saying ‘surprisingly’, it would be more accurate to say ‘lower than Cha Han-gyeom anticipated.’
‘Two ran into the cathedral… So the remaining four must be hidden or using invisibility-type abilities.’
The number Cha Han-gyeom had predicted—excluding Kang Woo-chan—was twenty-two.
Seo Won replayed in his mind the list of Espers Cha Han-gyeom had carefully marked with those elegant fingers.
The data only included assessments based on abilities from a few years ago—some over a decade old. If he’d gone off that alone, it would’ve been difficult to respond properly. But thanks to Cha Han-gyeom’s insight, which extrapolated the possible evolution of each ability, there was no need to be excessively cautious.
‘It’s almost terrifying.’
Just from skimming the data, he’d accurately deduced how each power might have developed or changed.
That was only possible because Cha Han-gyeom had spent so many years guiding Espers, watching firsthand as their abilities transformed and grew.
Of course, even if he hadn’t wanted to, he’d had no choice but to witness it all. That must’ve been agonizing—enough to make him wish for death.
The thought left a bitter taste in Seo Won’s mouth.
He recalled the conversation they’d had in the office.
At the time, Cha Han-gyeom had been reviewing the ability profiles of Espers who came from the research facility, speaking with firm conviction.
“There are three spatial ability users. Among them, there’s only one who likely developed their power to the point of transporting large groups using constructs materialized via ESP.”
After reading through the Esper profiles for some time, Cha Han-gyeom had placed a small black cube on the desk.
Seo Won immediately recognized that the cube had been formed by someone’s ESP.
“That cube—it was given to me by the man presumed to be the spatial ability user. If you drop it while thinking of the place you want to go or the person you want to meet, it seems to activate. And if someone shares that intent with you, they get transported along too.”
Remembering the moment on the cruise when their enemies had suddenly teleported all at once, Seo Won found Han-gyeom’s explanation genuinely intriguing.
“If large-scale teleportation is possible, there’s no reason to restrict operations to a single base. Dispersing personnel across various locations would be much more efficient for information gathering and carrying out different missions.”
Han-gyeom set down the thick stack of documents he’d been holding and extended a hand toward Seo Won.
“Pass me a pen. I’ll mark which Espers have synergy with each other. Odds are they’ll be sticking together—they’re probably used to it by now.”
“Used to it?”
When Seo Won handed him a fountain pen, Han-gyeom immediately began jotting down numbers across several documents with confident, fluid movements. Each set of Espers marked with the same number seemed to be what he referred to as “synergistic pairs or groups.”
“Back at the research facility, Espers were often paired with subjects whose abilities could enhance or evolve their own. In some cases, up to five were grouped together for joint experiments.”
Han-gyeom spoke in an indifferent tone, but the pen in his hand had already passed the number 14. The data covered the First, Second, and Third Facilities—not even the one he had been assigned to—yet he remembered all of it and was now effortlessly categorizing which powers could produce synergy.
The pen finally stopped at number 28.
After closing the files, Han-gyeom tapped the front page lightly with his fingers, his eyes scanning the cover.
“Next, I’ll identify which Espers are likely stationed at the same hideout as Kang Woo-chan.”
“You can figure that out too?”
Seo Won asked, surprised. Han-gyeom merely adjusted his grip on the pen, his eyes gleaming with quiet confidence.
“Kang Woo-chan is the terrorist group’s only Guide—and their leader. I’m sure the Espers in his group know that, but the one who values that fact the most is probably Kang Woo-chan himself.”
The slightest threat to a single Guide could jeopardize or kill countless Espers.
As the one-and-only Guide of the Fourth Ability Analysis Research Facility, Cha Han-gyeom knew better than anyone just how critical that position was—especially in Woo-chan’s case.
“There’ll probably be some high-ranking Espers, but more importantly, he’ll surround himself with those who can evade or block attacks—quick thinkers who can improvise. And as for the offensive types, expect them to be dangerously high-level and utterly fearless…”
Han-gyeom had just started making a new mark on the document when he paused, sensing Seo Won’s gaze.
He lifted his eyes from the files and met Seo Won’s stare—piercing and relentless.
“Why?”
Han-gyeom asked why, but he already had an idea what Seo Won was thinking. And sure enough, the answer he’d suspected came from Seo Won’s lips.
“You must feel some sort of kinship with him. So why are you so determined to hunt him down?”
Seo Won stood from his seat, resting his hand atop the stack of papers Han-gyeom had marked.
“Pretending you had no choice, acting like it’s all for Song Jae-woo’s sake, hiding behind any excuse you can—don’t you still want to meet him in secret?”
Han-gyeom didn’t avoid Seo Won’s sharp gaze. He simply met it quietly, accepting it.
“Haven’t you wanted to talk about everything? About how you’ve both been living all this time, about how hard it’s been… and about how you’re going to live from here on out?”
Even under continued questioning, Han-gyeom didn’t so much as twitch an eyebrow. He inhaled the cold, threatening air as if it were nothing, exhaling silently like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“That was your chance to run away with Song Jae-woo. Even those terrorist bastards, the ones clinging to you out of some warped sense of kinship, would’ve taken you in. If you’d gone to them, at least you wouldn’t be forced to do any Guiding for me anymore.”
His eyes were testing, searching—eyes that demanded the truth.
Seo Won wanted to know what was going on inside Han-gyeom’s head.
“Then why go out of your way to hunt them down?”
“You seriously have to ask?”
Han-gyeom’s cold eyes met Seo Won’s with a scornful glare. Then, using the end of his fountain pen, he jabbed Seo Won hard in the chest—right over his heart.
“Because of your goddamn ass, you dumb fuck.”
Seo Won blinked rapidly, startled by Han-gyeom’s sudden outburst.
