Seo Won looked at Min-hyung with a face that said, That’s a pointless thing to say, and replied firmly.
“It would only be a distraction for Cha Han-gyeom. It’s not important.”
“It is important. The heart extraction isn’t what drove him to death.”
Min-hyung simply couldn’t understand Seo Won’s stubbornness.
Even for an Esper with immortality, the success rate of a heart extraction wasn’t high. Heart extraction involved cutting out the origin point that formed the pathway through which ESP flowed. Since it required the body to regenerate from a point that had been completely severed, there was no guarantee it would be restored to its original state.
But Song Yeon-woo had pulled it off.
He hadn’t been dubbed S-rank for nothing—within merely half a day, he had completely regenerated his heart.
Recalling the footage from the time of Song Yeon-woo’s heart extraction, Min-hyung spoke.
“Song Yeon-woo wanted to die from that extraction.”
The ones hesitating over whether to proceed with the request weren’t the subject himself, but the researchers. For them, the loss of a rare S-rank test subject would have been a more serious blow than any immediate financial gain from fulfilling the request.
Yet Song Yeon-woo had desperately begged them to go through with it. Even when the researchers warned him of the risk of physical collapse and ESP rampage, he had kept repeating that he didn’t care.
In the end, the researchers couldn’t withstand the pressure—both from Song Yeon-woo’s insistence and from Vice Chairman Kim Cheol-min of the Esper Association, who had brought the request. They proceeded with the extraction.
Min-hyung, feeling the weight of that moment play out again in his mind, spoke bitterly.
“But the result was a successful extraction and perfect regeneration. His heart even regenerated faster than any other part of his body.”
“That’s exactly the problem!”
Seo Won’s hand clenched the terrace railing so hard it seemed like it might snap.
“Do you know which organ commands the highest price in the world when it comes to transplants? The heart.”
His own heart, in sync with his rising emotions, pounded heavily in his chest.
“Song Yeon-woo may have wanted to die because of that procedure, but the fact is, he survived. And once he survived, there was no bigger payday for those researchers. For all we know, they might’ve forced him to live through daily heart extractions from that point on.”
Trying to calm his violently thudding heart, Seo Won brought a cigarette to his lips. The smoke he inhaled seemed to fill not just his lungs but his heart as well. Perhaps because of that, his flared emotions began to slowly settle.
“That was something that should’ve never succeeded in the first place. The problem was making such a request at all.”
Now calmer, Seo Won responded with a bitter tone, recalling the footage of Song Yeon-woo he had once seen.
“If I hadn’t been there… maybe Song Yeon-woo would still be alive.”
Seo Won remembered the video from right after Song Yeon-woo’s heart extraction with vivid clarity.
After the extraction, Song Yeon-woo looked straight into the CCTV with a perfectly regenerated body.
What appeared on his face was nothing but an endless void… and despair.
And that was something Cha Min-hyung also remembered well.
“No. He would’ve died before long anyway.”
Min-hyung’s voice was just as firm as Seo Won’s.
“You said exactly what I wanted to. That’s right—Song Yeon-woo was forced to live while having his heart, or whatever else, extracted day after day in that facility. And even after that, it would’ve continued.”
Even as he spoke, Min-hyung felt a throbbing pain in his chest and a sting in his throat. Just saying aloud the horrific future that awaited Song Yeon-woo was so agonizing he could have shut his eyes tight. But the words had to be said, so he didn’t stop.
“You think he didn’t know that himself? He knew, and that’s why he accepted a request that would endanger his life. That’s why, in the end, he even used Cha Han-gyeom.”
Min-hyung looked at Seo Won’s conflicted expression with a pained gaze.
“You watched the video until the end, didn’t you? Then you must’ve seen what he injected into himself.”
One of the most frequently used substances in Song Yeon-woo’s human experiments—Organ Degeneration Solution.
He’d shaken off the unsuspecting researchers and injected himself with several times the lethal dose.
As a result, his ESP levels dropped to abnormally low levels, and all his organs began to deteriorate.
But even with his organs in a degenerated state, Song Yeon-woo wasn’t so weak that he’d simply die of natural causes. No, he was far stronger than that. What the researchers were left with was a substandard test subject—unsuitable for further study.
They couldn’t bring themselves to report that they had ruined a precious test subject through their own negligence. So instead, just as they had warned in the earlier reports sent before the extraction, they blamed it on post-extraction side effects and even demanded more money from the client.
And just as Song Yeon-woo had planned, he was sentenced to disposal.
That was all he wanted.
Song Yeon-woo had a Guide more compassionate than anyone else. Under normal circumstances, no matter how much he begged to be killed, that Guide would never have granted him such a mercy. But if it meant sparing him the horrors of being discarded… then yes, he would’ve granted the wish.
And just as Song Yeon-woo had hoped, his Guide granted him liberation under the name of rampage.
Seo Won remained stubborn, even after seeing and hearing everything with his own eyes and ears. To Min-hyung, that obstinance was unbearably frustrating and sorrowful.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“No. It was my fault.”
“Seo, please…”
Seo Won crushed the cigarette down against the railing, grinding it violently even though it had already burned to the filter. The last puff of gray smoke that escaped his lips scattered mercilessly into the cold wind.
“If it’s not my fault, then I have no right to feel this way.”
Seo Won turned his head and gave Min-hyung a faint, sorrowful smile.
“Otherwise, wouldn’t Cha Han-gyeom—who’s endured all of this—just be too pitiful?”
Min-hyung’s hand, still gripping the railing, twitched.
Did Seo Won realize?
That his smile looked so much like the one Song Yeon-woo wore when he asked Cha Han-gyeom to end his life?
Seo Won tossed the crumpled cigarette aside without a care and turned away.
“Before I die, I’ll make sure everything is cleaned up perfectly. If there’s anything you need help with—something I might be useful for—just contact me. Consider it my way of asking you to look after Cha Han-gyeom.”
With those cool, resolute words, Seo Won stepped up to the door leading inside. Behind him, Min-hyung’s voice rang out.
“Please don’t assume that everyone is wishing for your death, Director Seo.”
At the stern tone in Min-hyung’s voice, Seo Won let out a soft scoff and replied,
“It’s either they want me dead or couldn’t care less, isn’t it?”
“That’s not necessarily true.”
Seo Won glanced over his shoulder at him. Those steady eyes and that worried expression held onto Seo Won more than usual today.
“Well… I guess there are some who’d want me to stay alive for my usefulness. Like you, Cha Min-hyung.”
Seo Won assumed that the only reason Min-hyung was trying to hold onto him was for his value.
“When I said I’d back you, it was as the heir to the Kangsan Group. As the next successor, you’d naturally be interested in staying on good terms with a promising candidate for Vice Chairman of the Esper Association. I’ll make sure the connection holds strong.”
“You really think I want you to stay alive just because of your backing?”
There was a tinge of frustration in his voice—possibly even anger. But Seo Won pretended not to notice his emotion, coldly reaching for the door.
“If it’s not that, then there’s no reason. So I’ll just take it as an empty pleasantry.”
Even after Seo Won left the terrace, Min-hyung didn’t move for a long while. Eventually, he let out a long sigh and rubbed his forehead.
“There’s a limit to how frustrating someone can be…”
***
Back at the estate grounds, Seo Won pulled out his cigarette case the moment he stepped out of the car.
These days, cigarettes had become inseparable from him—an essential item. Whether something complicated came up, something was bothering him, or even when absolutely nothing was happening, his hand naturally reached for a smoke.
‘If my old self saw me now, he’d scream that I’d lost my mind.’
The memory of how much he used to hate cigarettes drew a faint, humorless chuckle. Then, he suddenly remembered the day he berated Han-gyeom, saying the smell of cigarettes was like rotting flesh.
If the present him could go back in time, he’d probably have beaten his old self to death already.
If he had, maybe he wouldn’t have left so many scars on Cha Han-gyeom.
Engulfed in the cigarette smoke that seemed to consume him, Seo Won walked toward the mansion’s entrance.
Every time he smoked, it brought him a sense of unparalleled calm. And right after, Han-gyeom’s face would come to mind—his languid figure, smoking with vacant eyes, came vividly to the forefront.
Just like now.
“You’re late.”
At the entrance of the mansion stood Cha Han-gyeom, cigarette between his lips. Beside him was Jung Ah-young, who was adjusting the fit of his coat and quickly bowed her head upon spotting Seo Won.
Seo Won quickened his pace, hurrying to stand before Han-gyeom.
“The wind’s cold—why are you—”
Before he could even finish his sentence, Han-gyeom grabbed him by the collar and yanked him forward. Soft yet icy lips crashed against his, biting down hard.
“Didn’t I tell you not to go anywhere until I guided you?”
Han-gyeom’s voice was as cold as the deep crimson of his eyes.
