Restoring manipulated memories to their original state caused far more side effects than expected. Controlling the mind was a delicate process, fraught with inherent dangers.
However, Cha Seong-ju paid no attention to any side effects or potential risks. He was utterly consumed by the need to uncover the moment Cha Jae-woo manifested his abilities—that is, the final moment of his son, Cha Jae-yeon.
Cha Jae-woo had manifested at a young age and lost his parents. Cha Jae-yeon and his wife, Seo Hee-gyeong, had been found dead in their home under sudden, mysterious circumstances.
To civilians unaware of the nature of Espers, they were simply seen as a tragically ill-fated couple.
Yet, despite being a civilian himself, Cha Seong-ju never once believed the official statements issued by the Association. From the beginning, he was convinced that Cha Jae-yeon’s death was directly connected to Cha Jae-woo’s manifestation.
Thus, he refused to send Cha Jae-woo to the Esper Association. Even when the Association, estimating Jae-woo to be S-Rank, expressed a strong desire to take him in, Cha Seong-ju didn’t even pretend to listen. He shielded himself with the irrefutable excuse that, as his own flesh and blood, it was his responsibility to care for him. The Association couldn’t easily refute that argument.
But the truth was, Cha Seong-ju had no interest in Cha Jae-woo. He had no intention of taking responsibility, nor did he care about whether or how Jae-woo might be used. His sole interest lay in Cha Jae-woo’s memories—the reason why his son had to die.
Thus, he insisted on forcibly restoring the tampered memories of Cha Jae-woo, who was merely ten years old at the time. He hired an unregistered, mercenary-like Esper specializing in mental abilities—one who would do anything for the right price.
In the worst case, Cha Jae-woo could have completely lost his mind. But that was of no concern to Cha Seong-ju. What mattered was achieving his goal. In the end, he succeeded. Though there were minor complications, it was nothing short of miraculous that Cha Jae-woo’s mind didn’t collapse during the process.
In any case, thanks to this, Cha Seong-ju learned everything. That Cha Jae-woo, upon manifesting his powers, had killed Cha Jae-yeon and Seo Hee-gyeong—his own parents.
He hadn’t sought the truth so much as confirmation; thus, Cha Seong-ju reacted with surprising composure. As if he had expected it all along, he even laughed—though it was hardly a joyful laugh.
The real problem was Cha Jae-woo. Unlike Cha Seong-ju, he couldn’t remain calm. How could he? He hadn’t lost his parents in an accident—he had murdered them with his own hands.
Cha Jae-woo lost his grip on reality. Though he was hailed as an S-Rank Esper, he was still just a ten-year-old child. It was a burden no child could possibly endure. Moreover, with his memories flooding back all at once, the past no longer felt distant; it was as if everything had happened only yesterday.
Cha Jae-woo repeatedly cycled between weeping and collapsing unconscious. Trapped in a basement room, treated as little more than discarded waste after his usefulness to Cha Seong-ju had expired.
What had he done?
What was he supposed to do now?
Would he truly never see his parents again?
Why had everything turned out this way?
These relentless questions tormented Cha Jae-woo day after day. On top of it all, he suffered agonizing headaches as an aftereffect of having his memories restored—the kind of pain that felt like someone was smashing his skull with a hammer.
“How long are you going to keep acting like that?”
There was no one to comfort or embrace him. Cha Seong-ju only treated him with cold indifference. There was not even a sliver of pity. He didn’t feel guilty for tossing his own grandson—no, just a child—onto the cold basement floor.
Was it because Cha Jae-woo had killed his son? Or perhaps, Cha Jae-woo was simply a burden to him, nothing more.
“Get up. Pull yourself together. Whose fault is it that my son is dead?”
Cha Jae-woo spent an immeasurable amount of time in that dark basement. He cried until he was too exhausted to shed another tear, until he was little more than a corpse sprawled across the ground.
It was only then that he was finally dragged outside by one of Cha Seong-ju’s underlings. Thin as a twig, his hair overgrown and unkempt, Cha Jae-woo collapsed face-down onto the floor with hollow eyes. And he recalled Cha Seong-ju’s words.
Whose fault is it that he died?
Whose fault is it that he died?
Whose fault is it that he died?
It was his fault. He had killed them.
Every night, Cha Jae-woo returned to the moment he murdered his parents.
No matter how much he struggled to resist, he always ended up committing the same atrocity over and over again. He could not regain his sanity. Cha Jae-woo was utterly incapable of stepping back into the world. He didn’t even want to try.
However, Cha Seong-ju was determined to drag Cha Jae-woo back into the world. While Cha Jae-woo was rotting away mentally in that basement, Cha Seong-ju had already formulated a new objective. And for that goal, he needed Cha Jae-woo. Thus, Cha Jae-woo was denied even the one thing he wished for most—returning to his parents’ side.
***
That day—when Cha Jae-woo manifested.
The Espers dispatched to the scene following the detection of abnormal waves reported that something about the gate felt off. The disturbance was so intense, they said, it wouldn’t have been surprising if the Earth had split in two right then and there. The pulse was so overwhelming that every Esper present noticed something was wrong.
The Esper Association took the situation extremely seriously. They evacuated all civilians from the affected area and began searching for the epicenter of the energy—that is, the source: an Esper who had just begun manifesting and was emitting such a staggering pulse.
They were certain that the Esper’s Rank must be extraordinarily high—there was no other explanation for such a phenomenon. The higher the Rank, the more destructive a manifestation could be; thus, finding the Esper quickly was critical.
Fortunately, because of the sheer intensity of the energy, they located the manifesting Esper in short order—the one who would become the only S-Rank Esper in South Korea: Cha Jae-woo.
A small, run-down house. Espers stormed into it en masse. The young couple inside, startled by the sudden intrusion, were too shocked to even ask what was happening. In their arms, their young son twisted in agony, unable to regain consciousness.
“P-please, help us… our child…”
The couple, bewildered and desperate, pleaded with the intruders for help. They said they were trying to get to a hospital, that they needed assistance. It was the natural reaction of ordinary civilians who had no idea what was truly unfolding.
But the Espers knew. They knew where the overwhelming pulse was coming from. It was the boy, Cha Jae-woo—his tiny body was the very epicenter of that sharp, suffocating energy.
“Hand the child over. He’s manifesting.”
“M-manifesting…?”
“Yes. He’s showing signs of Esper manifestation. If you don’t separate from him immediately, it could trigger an attack. Hand the child over.”
The couple couldn’t bring themselves to comply. It was too much to believe that their son—suddenly, inexplicably—was an Esper. But time was running out. Another Esper, unable to wait for the parents’ consent, forcibly separated Cha Jae-woo from their arms.
The father’s shouts, demanding to know what they were doing, grew fainter and fainter in Cha Jae-woo’s ears. He was being ripped away from his parents.
“Only five meters from the gate. It’s growing.”
At that moment, Cha Jae-woo was a mass of searing heat.
His vision blurred, his entire body twisted in pain beyond endurance.
He could no longer tell who was who.
His mind was wiped blank, as white and empty as a fresh canvas.
He couldn’t understand the shouting voices around him.
He didn’t even want to.
All he wanted was to somehow extinguish the unbearable heat tormenting him.
“Throw him.”
Two Espers exchanged a brief conversation over Cha Jae-woo’s head. The man holding him nodded without hesitation at the cold command. He turned—and just like that, a gaping black gate stretched wide before Cha Jae-woo’s eyes.
“No! What are you doing?! Stop!”
“Please stay back. The manifesting Esper must handle it alone—”
“Are you insane?! That’s a gate! What the hell are you trying to pull?!”
“Tch, so noisy…”
“Jae-woo! Cha Jae-woo!!”
“I’ll take care of this.”
“You can’t do this!”
“Out of the way!”
The noise was unbearable. It made Cha Jae-woo irritable. Groaning in agony, he forced his eyelids open.
In that moment, his blurred gaze met that of a middle-aged man. The man looked momentarily surprised, then smiled faintly—almost as if he found something amusing. There was a sick sort of joy in his expression, like a child discovering a new toy.
“So young… would it be too lonely for him to be alone?”
The man whispered to him. Cha Jae-woo clenched his fists tightly. He didn’t understand the words, but he knew one thing instinctively: he wanted to get rid of that man—to make him disappear. No—he wanted to erase everything.
What was this feeling? What was it he wanted to do? Right—he wanted to wipe it all away. If he could just erase everything before his eyes, it would be okay. Then the pain would stop.
“Throw him. Now.”
Cha Jae-woo instinctively reached out his hand. But the order came faster. Before he could even react, he was hurled into the gate.
The deafening cries faded into the distance. Cha Jae-woo plunged into an unknown space. Yet he wasn’t afraid. Not even a little.
Cha Jae-woo looked around.
I have to erase it.
I have to erase it.
I have to erase it.
I have to erase it.
I have to erase it.
I have to erase everything.
Wipe it all away.
It sounded like someone was whispering urgently, but maybe it was just his own mind. His vision turned a blazing yellow—and Cha Jae-woo wanted nothing more than to erase everything from sight. Anything. Everything.
“Jae-woo!”
That was why—there should have been no one there to call his name.
That voice should never have followed him into this place. They should never have come after him into the gate.
But they did.
Driven by the desperate need to obliterate everything in front of him, Cha Jae-woo’s parents had become nothing more than sacrifices.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?”
“Jae-woo, say something, please…”
They should have known about the gate. Why hadn’t they been afraid at all? How could they have been so concerned only about his condition? It was a clear, fatal mistake. They—his parents—should never have stepped inside the gate.
They clutched Cha Jae-woo tightly, whispering over and over how relieved they were that he seemed unharmed. Then, they told him they needed to get out of there. But they didn’t know—They had no idea how to escape from a gate.
No, was that the only thing they didn’t understand?
At that moment, Cha Jae-woo had no shred of rationality left. He was in a state of complete rampage. When the boy opened his eyes again, there wasn’t a trace of life left in them—only an eerie, sunken emptiness.
Cha Jae-woo’s gaze shifted from the massive monster approaching with earth-shaking thuds in the distance to his parents standing before him.
They, too, spotted the monster. Their hands, trembling violently from fear, clenched into determined fists. They tried to soothe Cha Jae-woo, pulling him back into their arms.
“Khak, kuhk!”
“Aaagh! Honey! Ah, Jae-woo! Cha Jae-woo…! AAAAAHH!”
Cha Jae-woo now remembered it all.
The sensation of killing the parents who had tried to shield him. The screams. The faces twisted in worry even in their dying moments. The fact that they died with their eyes still open.
Cha Seong-ju should never have restored those memories. At the very least, after learning what he wanted, he should have erased them again. Or, if nothing else, he should have made Cha Jae-woo forget everything he had done to him.
“…….”
And yet.
Cha Jae-woo’s eyes blazed sharply. It happened when a call came through—not to the dead folder phone, but to his own mobile phone. The number was unfamiliar and unregistered, but Cha Jae-woo immediately knew—it was Cha Seong-ju.
His grip tightened instinctively around the phone. He hadn’t meant to, but the surge of old memories made his stomach churn.
Cha Jae-woo took a long, deep breath, trying to calm himself.
Meanwhile, the screen, which had been buzzing insistently, finally went dark. Even then, Cha Jae-woo continued to glare at it, his gaze sharp and fierce.
He would have to get rid of it. He came to a simple conclusion and set the phone down. He also shoved the folder phone back into the drawer.
There was no point wasting any more time. No, he couldn’t afford to.
Cha Seong-ju must have already been informed—that the Guide beside him could purify even Feleil’s blood. The people scattered throughout this house, his spies, would have already passed the message along.
That meant Cha Jae-woo had to act first.
He had to start the cleanup before Cha Seong-ju could move.
As long as Lim Haeyul remained in his hands, Cha Jae-woo had nothing to fear.
