A dire situation. Supreme Commander Choi Yul’s words, breaking up intermittently, were unsettling.
Kwon Jae-jin abruptly lifted his head, staring at the area where Choi Yul’s hologram had been. An overturned table, a chair flung aside, the hologram now extinguished—there was no trace of Choi Yul left. Only his voice, crackling and distorted, was still transmitting in broken fragments.
“Fa…mily…”
Jae-jin parted his lips briefly before clamping them shut again. His eyes stung. His tongue felt as heavy as a stone.
“Just now… did you say… family?”
…Family?
Kwon Jae-jin’s family?
By the time he regained his senses, the blood at his fingertips had already gone cold. A tremor traveled up from Seo Eui-woo’s clothes, which Jae-jin had unconsciously clutched. Seeing Jae-jin frozen in place, Seo Eui-woo hesitated.
“……”
The supernatural power he had been about to use to teleport dissipated, the bright light that had threatened to engulf the world flickering out.
At the edge of the scattered, immense energy, the overturned transmitter barely managed to squeeze out Choi Yul’s voice.
“…We will… provide compensation… to your family.”
“……”
“Special exceptions will be granted… If you pass the ranking test… and are confirmed as S-rank… the associated welfare benefits…”
Compensation. It was the money granted to the parents of awakened individuals as a pension.
No matter how much society admired awakened beings, no parent would willingly offer up the child they had carried in their womb for ten months. That was why the government provided compensation. Additional welfare benefits were also included. Naturally, the amount varied according to the individual’s rank.
If he were classified as S-rank, how much compensation would Kwon Jae-jin’s family receive?
The unstable transmission finally cut off, leaving the command room in silence—until a dry, brittle laugh escaped.
“…Pff.”
Jae-jin let out a hollow chuckle, staring at the command room, now in ruins, and the half-tilted flag of the new government. His eyelids slowly fluttered open and shut, until eventually, he even forgot to blink.
Kwon Jae-jin had forgotten his entire family. He didn’t even know who they were.
But Supreme Commander Choi Yul did. He had the authority to access Jae-jin’s resident registration records and could easily obtain information about his birth and entire upbringing.
That a complete stranger like Supreme Commander Choi Yul knew about Kwon Jae-jin’s blood relatives—relatives Jae-jin himself had no memory of—was ironic, wasn’t it?
“……”
Seo Eui-woo swallowed down the suffocating, pitch-black emotions roiling in his gut, his fierce gaze slowly lowering.
Right now, it was framed as a negotiation—offering compensation. But if Choi Yul changed his mind, the situation could flip in an instant.
Just as Seo Eui-woo had taken the generals hostage… what if Choi Yul decided to do the same with Kwon Jae-jin’s family?
What if, instead of Seo Eui-woo kidnapping the generals, it was Choi Yul who kidnapped Kwon Jae-jin’s family?
Then…
……
Clicking his tongue sharply, Seo Eui-woo let the generals go. The limp bodies collapsed to the floor in an unsightly heap. Fortunately, Choi Yul remained amicable—for now. He didn’t even know that Kwon Jae-jin had forgotten his family.
Running a hand irritably through his hair, Seo Eui-woo cast a glance at the scattered bodies.
A temporary truce.
***
A wasteland, thick with gray dust. The frigid air sweeping down from the continent had plunged the temperature below freezing. The air was dry enough to sting and carried a faint, acrid stench.
A barren season, a time when not even a single blade of grass should sprout—yet, the landscape of the wasteland was eerily grotesque. The terrain was uneven, jagged rather than smooth, and blackened branches jutted out sporadically. At first glance, they resembled frost-laden trees, but in reality, they were the twisted remains of steel frames.
Collapsed buildings, heaps of scrap metal, shattered windows, and crumbling asphalt. Chunks of cement littered the ground, and the cracked roads were lined with abandoned vehicles. These were remnants of an old civilization, relics left behind by pre-Gate Impact humanity.
Beyond the outer perimeter of the residential zone, farther even than the expanding frontier settlements—
Land seized by creatures. Land that needed to be reclaimed.
This was the Uncharted Zone.
A place devoid of life, filled only with debris that would never decay.
A grinding sound echoed from within a tilted building.
Through the gaps of worn-out plastic blinds, dark, distorted shapes could be seen.
Spiny, hedgehog-like creatures were gnawing at the concrete walls. As if to prove their monstrous nature, they were chewing and swallowing concrete—something no living organism should be able to digest.
Bruk, bruk, bruk!
No matter how much concrete they devoured, their hunger remained unsatisfied.
Then, all at once, their eyes flashed a piercing yellow.
In a frenzy, they poured out of the building, clawing through the former windows, now makeshift passageways, all moving in a single direction. Their sprinting strides were swift.
Kieeeeee—!
And overhead, another swarm of creatures cast looming shadows.
Dark wings spread wide as they glided through the sky—monsters resembling giant eagles, their thick, hook-shaped beaks and razor-sharp talons grotesque in form.
Different species of creatures, yet they moved as if they were one.
A fierce wind swept toward the place they were heading.
***
Afterward, a brief cleanup followed. The unconscious generals were transported to the medical ward, the mission to capture S-class mutant Kwon Jae-jin was officially revoked, and the search unit was disbanded.
Although unresolved issues still loomed—Creature Waves, systemic reforms, Supreme Commander Choi Yul, his forgotten family—at the very least, the constant fear of sudden attacks had been lifted.
For now, they had secured a fragile semblance of peace.
It wasn’t enough to claim they had overturned Kwon Jae-jin’s fate as a born mutant, but if they considered it the first step forward, it wasn’t a bad start.
More than anything, the fact that both Seo Eui-woo and Kwon Jae-jin had come out of it unharmed was a relief.
Jae-jin had agreed to take the official ranking test, which meant he would now be formally affiliated with the Awakener Center as a registered Awakener.
And if it was confirmed that he was an S-class Guide, it was only natural that he would be paired with Seo Eui-woo, the sole S-class Esper.
Awakeners were strictly categorized by rank. A-class Awakeners were matched with A-class, B-class with B-class, and so on.
‘Things turned out completely different from what I originally planned… but for now, this is unavoidable.’
With the ranking test scheduled, the two returned to the ruined seaside villa.
Even after completing the teleportation and stepping inside, Seo Eui-woo didn’t release the protective barrier around Kwon Jae-jin.
To be fair, the house wasn’t exactly in a state that warranted relief.
The walls were cracked, the floors shattered, and the whole place was in chaos. Even the electricity seemed to be out—none of the sensor lights turned on. It was on a whole different level of destruction compared to when Jae-jin had merely scorched part of the living room.
“…Can’t I file for damage compensation or something?”
Jae-jin muttered in exasperation, but Seo Eui-woo didn’t respond.
He simply stood motionless in the dark hallway where the lights wouldn’t turn on. The walls bore the scars of explosions, and cold drafts howled through the broken gaps. The icy wind made Eui-woo’s black hair waver slightly.
“…I’m sorry.”
His voice was hoarse, rough—like a wounded beast.
There was no reason for him to apologize. He had done nothing wrong.
“I’m sorry about your family, Jae-jin.”
“…Well, it’s fine. There’s nothing that can be done about it anyway.”
Brushing past Seo Eui-woo, Jae-jin headed into the bathroom at the end of the hall.
The sensor lights didn’t work here either. The room remained in pitch darkness as he fumbled for the sink and turned on the faucet.
Thankfully, hot water still ran.
“This isn’t the time to be worrying about a family I can’t even remember.”
“……”
“If anything, I’m lucky. I forgot everything. It lets me stay detached.”
“No… Don’t do that. Don’t lie to me.”
Seo Eui-woo followed him into the bathroom. Without another word, he reached for the shower and turned it on. Hot water poured down from the high-mounted shower head.
“It’s not… a lie.”
Still fully clothed, Jae-jin stepped under the water.
They both knew Eui-woo would strip him down anyway.
Seo Eui-woo meticulously removed Jae-jin’s soaked clothing piece by piece.
He had spent the entire day wandering around in nothing but thin loungewear—far too light for winter. Worse yet, he had been barefoot. It was no wonder he was shivering and exhausted.
“If I still remembered everything, I’d probably be a wreck right now. But I don’t… And in the end, all this means is that they’ll be getting compensation. That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”
While he had carefully undressed Jae-jin, Seo Eui-woo tore off his own clothes without hesitation.
His wrinkled turtleneck and pants were yanked off and discarded carelessly.
Now bare, he pulled Jae-jin into his arms, locking him in an embrace as steaming water rained down over both of them.
“…Choi Yul didn’t seem like the type of person who would lay a hand on civilians. If anything, he seemed proud of protecting them. That’s why I was willing to negotiate. At the very least, he had conviction.”
“……”
“But if he ever tries to harm my family… that’ll mean he’s lost even that conviction. And when that happens—”
His voice dropped to a chilling whisper.
“…then he deserves to die.”
