Although they had begun living together, no particular rules were established. Not because the homeowners had the slightest intention of creating any, but because they all knew full well that as long as Cha Eun-soo existed, peace would be maintained by default.
Still, minor friction was inevitable. Just having a simple conversation, like the one they’d just had, was enough to irritate each other.
While Cha Eun-hyuk and Joo Cheong-gyeong continued to treat each other like inanimate objects, time passed steadily, and Shim Tae-seong and Jang Hee-gang returned home.
“As expected, but still irritating.”
Jang Hee-gang muttered as he took off his jacket.
“They came trying to negotiate. Said they wanted to borrow his abilities, in exchange for keeping Cha Eun-soo’s existence classified.”
It wasn’t the first time they’d ignored a message from the government. Perhaps due to that history, this time, someone had been sent directly to the Association.
They had intended to ignore it as usual, but the moment someone passing through the lobby tried to mention Cha Eun-soo’s name…
Jang Hee-gang had nearly killed the man on the spot.
The government official likely assumed that since Cha Eun-soo was affiliated with the Association, it wouldn’t be a problem to discuss him within its walls. But given the nature of Cha Eun-soo’s existence, they had surely calculated that he would be classified at the highest level, known only to a select few even within the Association.
In the end, it had been a provocation—one made intentionally to start a conversation with him.
To offer time to the very person who had pushed him to the brink of homicidal rage was an excruciating task.
“……Solving this by force doesn’t sound so bad.”
Jang Hee-gang spoke casually. As if he’d been waiting for this, Joo Cheong-gyeong nodded in agreement.
“Glad we’re on the same page. Though I wouldn’t say I’m happy about it.”
Cha Eun-hyuk and Shim Tae-seong both frowned in near unison. Glancing at them, Joo Cheong-gyeong gave a shrug and added,
“Not saying we should kill them all. Just something… highly persuasive.”
“Threats, huh…”
“When someone’s life’s on the line, they tend to keep their mouth shut.”
Cha Eun-hyuk lowered his gaze in silence.
……As long as it didn’t cripple the country, it should be fine.
Those blinded by greed—they were more than enough of a threat on their own.
“Don’t misunderstand. The final decision isn’t ours to make.”
Suddenly, Shim Tae-seong spoke. All three pairs of eyes turned toward him.
“What they’re after is Young Master’s ability. Which means the decision is his to make.”
He meant that they needed to inform Cha Eun-soo of the situation and respect his free will. Shim Tae-seong then turned to look at Joo Cheong-gyeong.
“There’s no point in suppressing him any longer. If we keep clinging to our current approach, don’t overlook the possibility that Young Master might try to break away from us—even with those side effects.”
Letting him go wasn’t the real issue. No matter where Cha Eun-soo went, as long as he remained in this world, he could always be found. For espers who had once scoured the entire planet in search of him, it wouldn’t even be difficult.
But what truly troubled them was the possibility that Cha Eun-soo might end up coughing up blood in agony, or become so overwhelmed that he lost consciousness. Pain couldn’t be shared, and once dead, he couldn’t be revived. Even Jang Hee-gang and Joo Cheong-gyeong—who had lived their lives seemingly stripped of fear—couldn’t bear to imagine something going wrong with Cha Eun-soo.
“So what you’re saying is, now that things have come this far, we should just give him his freedom and let him wander around?”
Jang Hee-gang finally spoke.
“With that personality of his, if he found someone who needed help, he’d definitely try to help. But what, we’re just supposed to sit back and watch? Sounds to me like you’re suggesting we throw him into danger in the name of preventing danger.”
“No.”
Cha Eun-hyuk, thinking the exact same thing, dismissed the idea outright. His cold eyes fixed on Shim Tae-seong with sharp intensity.
“I feel the same.”
Joo Cheong-gyeong stood up. Slowly, he began to walk toward Shim Tae-seong.
“Mr. Shim Tae-seong. Are you trying to atone for something?”
“……!”
“Or was the affection you received from Eun-soo just that sweet?”
He stopped right in front of him.
“But the thing is, we want Eun-soo more than we care about that affection.”
“We came this far because we’ve been searching for a way to protect him completely. You were no different, weren’t you? So if your heart’s changed even a little…”
A delicate face curved into an artificial smile.
“Then speak now—so we can take care of you before you get in the way.”
The killing intent he had been restraining now surged like a wave on the verge of breaking. It was no longer just a threat—it was blatant, unfiltered intent to fight.
Shim Tae-seong’s brow twitched. In that brief instant, he prepared himself to snatch up Joo Cheong-gyeong and relocate them before things escalated.
Click.
The sound of a door opening echoed through the living room, audible from every corner. The S-Ranks’ gazes instantly snapped toward Cha Eun-soo’s bedroom.
Cha Eun-soo stood there, hand on the doorknob.
Whether he had overheard the conversation or not, his face was pale as paper—but strangely, there was a look of determination etched into it. It was impossible to tell if the sweat beading on his forehead came from his physical condition or a mental struggle.
“Eun-soo.”
Cha Eun-hyuk rushed over to his younger brother in alarm. He couldn’t begin to imagine how shaken he must’ve been to find them all gathered like this.
He’d planned to explain everything once Eun-soo had rested and woken up properly.
But Cha Eun-soo extended his arm, stopping Cha Eun-hyuk from approaching. Cha Eun-hyuk froze in place, feeling as though his heart had stopped.
Jang Hee-gang stared intently at Cha Eun-soo’s expression.
“I…
A faint, trembling voice escaped from Cha Eun-soo’s lips—shaky but unmistakably clear.
“I never asked you to protect me.”
There was no hesitation in the way he stepped toward the living room. Walking straight between Joo Cheong-gyeong and Shim Tae-seong—both of whom had instantly reined in their killing intent the moment they saw him—he turned his back to Shim Tae-seong and faced Joo Cheong-gyeong directly.
A bead of cold sweat rolled down from his slender chin and dropped to the floor.
“Especially not like this.”
“…”
“Of course, I’m sure that doesn’t matter to any of you. None of you ever cared about what I wanted. So honestly… I’m not even surprised by this anymore.”
Joo Cheong-gyeong quietly met Cha Eun-soo’s gaze as he repeated back the very words Joo Cheong-gyeong had spoken earlier. Hearing them echoed from Cha Eun-soo’s own mouth brought a sharp, unpleasant sting deep in his chest.
Still staring him down, Cha Eun-soo finally turned his gaze to the others. His breathing had grown faintly uneven.
“But… it’s not like it doesn’t hurt.”
He shook his head.
“It’s always been like this. Why me? Why am I the one who has to go through this? Why are you all doing this to me?”
Overwhelmed, his words began to stutter.
“It’s too much. It hurts so bad. I feel suffocated. It’s like I can’t breathe—I can’t take it anymore…”
The cracks in his composure were spreading wide, laid bare for all to see. Bleeding wounds of the heart exposed without filter—as one human to another, Cha Eun-soo let out a silent scream. He collapsed into tears, as if the dam of his emotions had shattered completely.
There were so many things he wanted to say, yet all he could do was cry. Big, helpless sobs poured from him, making the sight all the more heartbreaking.
Joo Cheong-gyeong, who was standing right in front of him, let the corners of his mouth sink almost imperceptibly.
Shim Tae-seong, who had seen Cha Eun-soo reject even his own brother, Cha Eun-hyuk, was at a loss, his fingertips twitching. He wanted nothing more than to embrace that trembling figure right away.
Cha Eun-hyuk, too, grimaced in pain. Watching his little brother fall apart, he didn’t dare speak a single word.
In a room that had turned as silent and heavy as stone, only Jang Hee-gang stared at Cha Eun-soo with a pensive expression.
He had seen him rebel, refuse, cry before—but somehow, this time it was different. His insides churned, disturbed in a way he couldn’t quite place. That image of him—red-faced, crying as if every last drop of strength had been wrung from him—etched itself deep into his mind. It wasn’t annoyance. It was something far more tender. But that didn’t mean it was pleasant either. It was a tangled, ambiguous feeling.
“……!”
What shook the gathered espers out of their daze wasn’t the tears—but the sight of blood trickling from Cha Eun-soo’s nose across his tear-streaked face.
“Eun-soo?”
Joo Cheong-gyeong immediately caught the staggering boy and examined him. The blood that dripped was thick, vivid red. The cold sweat that had been trickling now poured in unsettling waves. His breathing turned harsh, a metallic rasp creeping in.
And then, right there in Joo Cheong-gyeong’s arms, Cha Eun-soo lost consciousness and collapsed.
***
Living under the same roof…
When he woke up alone in his room and realized that fact, it was admittedly a bit shocking. It seemed like a measure put in place to tighten surveillance, but on second thought, there wasn’t really any harm in it.
After all, having one place to call “home” brought a certain sense of stability.
Not that he was expecting any sort of special event involving all five of them living together.
[Remaining duration of side effects: 9 minutes and 24 seconds.]
He’d thrown himself into the tense atmosphere as if a fight were about to break out. His performance, using the side effects as leverage, had been incredibly effective.
Those physically dominant beasts who had once raped and imprisoned him now found themselves psychologically beneath him—and the thrill of that realization sent a jolt of pleasure through him.
It was the kind of psychological high that no amount of money could buy.
And setting aside his own desires, this kind of explosive outburst had actually been necessary—to loosen the reins a bit. If he wanted to use his power on his own terms going forward, the cooperation of the S-Ranks was essential.
Of course, he’d never had any intention of wielding this authority carelessly. Having experienced it firsthand, the side effects were far more horrific than he’d expected…
But with three S-Ranks practically drafting up a kill list, he figured he’d better step in under the pretense of cooperating with the government—if only to stop them.
Truthfully, what really shook him was the overwhelming sensation he felt after saving Seo Junho.
When he only vaguely understood that he had this “authority,” it hadn’t meant much. But reviving Seo Junho—literally bringing someone back from the brink of death—made it clear. If he chose not to use this power at all… it would gnaw at his conscience like hell.
