But before he could even get started, Hong Seong-jun picked a fight. While arguing with that bastard, he got pulled into a Spontaneous Dungeon mission.
Even as he dealt with the monsters, all he could think about was that pale, faintly flushed face.
It was a strange thing, liking someone.
At some point, everything in his world began to orbit around that person.
Just passing by on the street—if something looked delicious, his feet would stop on their own.
And he would start imagining it, without even realizing.
What kind of face would Lee Haru make while eating that?
He would probably eat with such gusto that even an onlooker would start salivating. Then he would look up, his eyes full of gratitude, like someone who had just been handed the deed to a house.
The feelings he had never known before were unfamiliar—but all the more fascinating because of it.
Even seeing Lee Haru casually close to another guy could stir up a furious heat in his chest over nothing at all, and he found even that oddly welcome.
With Kang Min’s help, Yu Je-hyun regained his composure. The fury he felt toward the leader of Black had been buried—for now.
This was not the time to let emotions drag him down.
Now it was his turn. No matter what it took, he would find that bastard—and pay him back for every twisted emotion he had suffered.
“Did you uncover anything else about him?”
“…Nothing concrete. There is one thing that feels off, though.”
“What is it?”
Kang Min had been quietly investigating the identity of Black’s leader for a long time.
Why would an S-rank Esper refuse to join the Association and go out of his way to sabotage it?
He had always been curious about the bastard’s true motives.
The fact that this was the first opponent to ever leave him feeling powerless only made it worse.
Kang Min’s security clearance was second only to the Association President, the Esper Center Director, and the Guide Center Director.
He could access almost any classified intel. But even he had hit a wall.
Information on the First-Generation of the Awakened.
Ability Users were broadly divided into First-Generation and Second-Generation. When the world was thrown into chaos with the emergence of Dungeons and monsters, humanity truly believed the end had come.
Countless nations fell in the blink of an eye. South Korea was no exception. Not even modern firepower could stop the monsters. Korea’s landmarks were reduced to rubble. Status, age, wealth—it all meant nothing.
Everyone died equally, helpless in the face of the monsters’ power. Had the Ability Users not appeared just when all hope was lost, Earth might have fallen to another kind of ruler.
Those who awakened around the same time as me are Second-Generation. The Association President and Center Directors are First-Generation.
The line dividing the two generations was not exact, but based on who was still active in the field, there was roughly a twenty-year gap.
Kang Min had full access to the profiles of Second-Generation Ability Users. Since he often took the lead on missions, he would sometimes study their records to build strategy and tactics.
The leader of Black kept himself completely covered from head to toe, but his age seemed close to Kang Min’s own. And yet, on the day they fought with everything they had, a strange feeling crept up on Kang Min.
He remembered sparring with the Association President and the Esper Center Director. The only difference between him and them was time—experience. They had data burned into their muscles and instincts from countless life-or-death battles, during both the collapse and the rebuilding of Korea. That was something Kang Min could not match.
But the leader of Black moved like someone who had survived that same kind of crucible. His instincts told him as much. Maybe that man was far older than he looked.
That was when Kang Min tried to dig into the First-Generation’s records. Most of them were now in their forties or fifties and had stepped back from active duty, taking on major roles within the Association. Until then, he had never had a reason to look into them.
But when he did, he found he was blocked. Even his clearance was not enough. What was even stranger was what happened next. The day he tried to access those files, the Association President summoned him.
In his office, the President sat in silence for a long time before speaking in a low voice.
“Curiosity killed the cat, you know. Best to leave it at that—just curiosity. You are the leader of this generation, are you not? You do not need to know the fine details of the one before.”
It was… odd.
Humanity had always progressed by building upon the knowledge passed down from those who came before. This did not mean the First-Generation—or the President—had hidden discoveries. What they had concealed was something else: The personal information of the First-Generation.
How many there were. What their names were. How old they were. Their families. All of it sealed away.
“Understood.”
In that moment, Kang Min had stepped back. There was no gain in drawing suspicion from the Association President.
Instead, he turned to the underworld—quietly, without a single ripple. Not even the President would notice. He met the old man missing one arm purely by chance.
“Do you know what really allowed South Korea to stabilize so quickly? Because our Ability Users were strong? That is partly true. But without sacrifice, we could never have achieved this.”
The First-Generation’s sacrifices were still a staple in the media. They regularly showed up in dramas, in movies—stories that resurfaced whenever public sentiment waned.
“The problem is, those sacrifices were not voluntary. They were forced.”
The issue of human rights for Ability Users remained a global powder keg even now. The moment someone awakened as an Ability User, they were automatically conscripted into government service to fight monsters.
As a result, their mortality rate soared—so high that it could not even be compared to that of ordinary citizens. Perhaps that was why related protests erupted in South Korea almost every quarter.
“Were you forced to sacrifice as well, sir?”
When Kang Min’s eyes drifted to the old man’s missing right arm, the elder smiled so broadly that the corners of his wrinkled eyes crinkled deeply.
“That is why I am still part of this world.”
The old man did not provide much information, but from that conversation, Kang Min formed a single, compelling hypothesis. If the leader of Black was a First-Generation Ability User—and had been one of those who were forced into unwanted sacrifice—then all the unanswered questions began to fall neatly into place.
Officially, the only remaining First-Generation S-rank Espers were the Association President and the Esper Center Director. Yet the leader of Black was clearly an S-rank Esper as well. If his fury toward the Association stemmed from the buried history of the First-Generation…
“Then what are we sitting around for? We should go to the Association President—demand to know what he’s hiding and make him hand it over.”
That was the first thing Yu Je-hyun said after hearing everything from Kang Min. He had never felt an ounce of reverence for the Association President. It was not that he dismissed the efforts of the First-Generation, but in his eyes, they were now nothing more than relics drunk on power. Few of them were still in the field, and all they ever did was sit at desks spewing empty theories.
This situation was no different. The Association President and the Esper Center Director had dumped full responsibility onto Kang Min— While they stayed comfortably at headquarters, even after an S-rank Guide had been kidnapped not once, but twice by the leader of Black.
“You really think he will tell us anything?”
“Then we will force him to.”
“We are talking about the Association President.”
“President or not, I don’t care. I need to get Lee Haru back—as soon as possible.”
Even if he had to face disciplinary action, it did not matter. As long as Lee Haru returned safely, nothing else was important.
Just as Yu Je-hyun headed for Association HQ that very moment, Kang Min did not stop him. He simply let out a long, weary sigh. If there were another way, they would have taken it. But right now, the two of them had run out of options.
As grim as it sounded, it was better that Lee Haru was still in the hands of the leader of Black— Than the alternative: that he had entered a dungeon which then vanished.
No dungeon that had disappeared had ever returned. Not once. The words Kang Min had offered to Yu Je-hyun were also a way of convincing himself.
Lee Haru had to be alive.
***
“…Back already?”
At the faint sound from beyond the door, Lee Haru pressed his ear to it. The surest way to find out was to open it and look. But he had no desire to see the leader of Black’s face again. What if the moment they locked eyes, he started choking him again?
He had already been strangled twice, and the dull ache still lingered at his throat. Even now, a throbbing pressure pulsed beneath his skin. But even with his ear pressed flush to the wood—his face practically glued to the door— the house remained deathly quiet after that initial noise.
“Was I imagining things?”
It was possible. Given his current state, it would be stranger to still have a clear head. Ever since he had been abducted, the leader of Black had been using him like a human battery.
Thankfully, he had not done anything sexually explicit— But the way he stole Haru’s Guiding energy while squeezing the life from his throat— That was its own brand of violence.
