Chapter 10
-No, oppa, I’m awake. I really am awake.
“Stop lying and get up quickly.”
As Yeonwoo entered the training ground, continuously urging despite Yeonhwa’s sleepy whining, he exchanged eye greetings with the ability users gathered in clusters.
Though they were warming up in different places, their gazes were all focused on one spot.
What are you looking at?
Turning around, Yeonwoo saw Kang Chahun nesting in a corner, staring at the wall. It wasn’t a figure of speech—it was literally a nest. Pointy ice had risen around where Chahun was sitting, clearly announcing to anyone who saw it: Kang Chahun is sitting here.
Chahun, who had suddenly started appearing in Zone C, would either wander around the training ground, stand facing a wall, or suddenly kick training balls around, but most of the time he would sit like that until a nest formed and then return to Zone A.
“Why did he come here?”
Exactly.
Yeonwoo, who had been waiting for Chahun to leave, unconsciously nodded. Having naturally become the person in charge of cleaning up the ice since that day, Yeonwoo sighed as he looked at the ice nest. Though he could think of it as an extension of his morning practice since he was already practicing every morning, a hassle was still a hassle.
“When he has his own zone, why bother…”
Choi Dongwon, who had approached offering to help, grumbled. At that sound, the Espers warming up together chimed in with small cries of agreement: “Right, I heard their training ground is amazing.”
“Did you see how heavily guarded the entrance to Zone A is?”
“They don’t even let us take a look, but if you’re S-class, you can just barge into someone else’s zone and practice however you want?”
“Exactly.”
Even the Espers entering the training ground were glancing with dissatisfied expressions at Chahun’s nest placed to one side.
It’s no wonder they’d be angry, already feeling disillusioned by the discrimination permeating the Center, when an S-class suddenly appeared, disrespected them, and no one called out that attitude. Yet every time Chahun glanced at them, they couldn’t help but harbor expectations of “maybe…?” and feel self-loathing because of it.
So instead of openly expressing their complaints, they whispered behind his back like this.
“By the way, how intense is the training in Zone A?”
While we’re still just playing around with mana balls. Espers nodded enthusiastically at the discontented murmur. I’ve seen several Espers who got injured coming out of virtual dungeons because they couldn’t tell who was a team member and what was a magical beast, and ended up attacking each other.
Biting the tip of his tongue, Yeonwoo traced his memories. As the words just said suggested, Chahun’s face had new injuries every time Yeonwoo saw him. Today his lip was split… what could cause such injuries? Were they doing combat training?
“I guess it must be different from us?”
“I wish we could do something different too.”
Despite their earnest wishes, the training director once again entered today holding mana balls in both hands. Yeonwoo, settling into position with team members who were pouting, infused mana into a mana ball and used his ability.
Though it wobbled a bit, Yeonwoo smiled briefly as the mana ball fell neatly onto the coordinates, but then—
“As expected. I knew it.”
At Jo Heeseo’s sneering, Yeonwoo clenched his fist. The mana ball that should have fallen to Park Seohyun was in Choi Dongwon’s hand.
“Is there something wrong with you?”
“I don’t think so. Esper Han Yeonwoo slept here again today, right? And practiced from the morning.”
At that answer, Park Seohyun, who had been rubbing the back of her neck, ran to the training director. After conversing with Park Seohyun, the training director looked at Yeonwoo and gestured toward the entrance.
“Go take a rest. Your mana core might be overloaded.”
Trudging along with a push on his back, Yeonwoo looked down at his hand with a vacant expression.
This isn’t even a prank. Why does it work sometimes and not others?
He hadn’t used enough ability to cause mana overload. The ability that had been fine this morning when moving Chahun’s nest—why was it acting up as soon as training started? He couldn’t understand.
Suppressing the urge to tear out the mana core attached to his heart and demand answers, Yeonwoo entered the break room and settled in.
As Park Seohyun said, it could be overloaded from practicing too long. But what if it wasn’t? What if there was a problem with the mana core? He would be expelled from the Center. Then what about Yeonhwa?
Looking up at the ceiling, Yeonwoo closed his eyes and shook his head to clear his thoughts. Thinking could wait. Calming the mana core was the priority now.
He tried to consciously empty his mind while feeling the mana gently circulating around his heart. But every time, thoughts of “what if” popped up. Having failed to fall asleep, when Yeonwoo returned to the training ground—
It appeared again.
The nest that Yeonwoo had cleaned up neatly in the morning had risen in the corner of the training ground. Watching Chahun sitting quietly inside it, Yeonwoo rubbed the back of his neck.
He was reminded of Yeonhwa in her younger days, sitting quietly inside a castle built of books, which is why his gaze kept drifting in that direction. There was nothing similar between them, from Chahun’s build to his appearance and abilities. Was it because they both chose corners to settle in despite having plenty of space?
Yeonhwa always sat like a doll in one corner of the vast, almost boundless mental realm. Yeonhwa, who just drew pictures without any expression while sitting quietly, only regained her expression upon discovering Yeonwoo. Embracing Yeonhwa, who only showed her tearful face in his arms, Yeonwoo had made a promise: to protect this small child who depended on him.
Well, somehow Yeonhwa ended up protecting Yeonwoo more often.
If you want to be protected, you should have awakened as a lower rank than me, not an S-class. Shrugging his shoulders, Yeonwoo clicked his tongue as he saw training tools scattered on the floor.
What kind of person is this?
Don’t they know they should clean up what they used? Clicking his tongue repeatedly, Yeonwoo took out a pin while suppressing his itching hands. If he cleaned up for them, they would likely continue to leave things out, assuming someone would take care of it.
On days when Yeonwoo was a bit late, someone should have stepped up to clean Chahun’s nest, but no one touched it and just waited blankly for Yeonwoo—the answer was clear from that alone.
Someone will clean it up.
Looking around the empty training ground, Yeonwoo settled at a spot adequately distant from Chahun’s nest. Nice to have space. Until recently, they had to engage in a battle of wits as soon as the end-of-training alarm sounded because there was no place to train. Now there were no people doing individual training because they were tired of simple repetitive training with mana balls and felt burdened by Chahun’s prying.
Thanks to that, at least I get to use a bigger space.
After settling down, Yeonwoo checked his mana core before using his ability. There was no unpleasant palpitation or ringing in his ears.
Then why?
Glaring at the ping pong ball that fell weakly or landed in unexpected places, Yeonwoo looked behind him. Chahun, who had been staring blankly at the wall, was now wandering around the training ground.
After going back and forth, Chahun quietly sat down where training tools were scattered. So that was the original purpose. Watching Chahun sitting and touching this and that, Yeonwoo’s butt fidgeted.
Can’t he tell just by looking that it’s a shield? What is an offensive type going to do with a shield? He wondered if Chahun was doing some special training, but that wasn’t it. He simply didn’t know anything.
After watching Chahun just touch training tools for a long time, Yeonwoo rolled his eyes.
Come to think of it…
Unlike Espers who typically awaken around the age of 12, Chahun awakened at 19, quite a late age. The 19-year-old Chahun, who thought he would live his entire life as an ordinary person, had been active as an archer. Then he awakened, right during a national team selection competition.
Chahun, who suddenly awakened during the competition, couldn’t easily accept that he was an Esper. After returning home under protection, Chahun secluded himself. And he had to watch as all the achievements he had built up were somehow disparaged with comments like, “So that’s why, because he was an Esper.”
Chahun, who locked himself in, refused all visitors, but the guild masters across the country wouldn’t leave him alone. Chahun had frozen an entire archery field in an instant. They couldn’t leave alone someone with such remarkable ability that could be judged from that brief moment.
Although renowned guild masters knocked on his door personally, Chahun remained locked in his room and met no one.
It was the Center Director who got Chahun to come out of his house. Chahun rejected everyone’s offer to make him a “national team” Esper and took the Center Director’s hand.
He should have just joined a guild and received money.
Chahun’s parents, who had lived their entire lives as ordinary people, saw their son off to the Center without knowing how much, or in what way, he would be ground up there.
The Center Director, who wanted to establish as soon as possible that Kang Chahun had contracted with the Korean Esper Center, shortened the military academy process to just three months.
Even ability users who had completed the full one-year course at the military academy were somewhat clumsy in using their abilities. Most of the internal instructors at the military academy were Center-affiliated Espers who were so busy conquering dungeons, subjugating magical beasts, purifying dangerous areas, and finding gates that they were stretched thin even with two bodies, so all classes were substituted with theoretical lectures.
Very occasionally, there were practical sessions, but even those were superficial. And sometimes, Espers from guilds were invited as external instructors. They came not to teach something, but to pick out promising talents and transfer them to academies under their guilds. With no proper teachers, one couldn’t expect to learn anything from anyone.
Having studied for only three months in such a place, it’s natural that Chahun wouldn’t have learned anything properly.
Chahun was anxious about his ability that burst out uncontrollably, but the Center Director persuaded the innocent youth by saying to just go to the Center first, that getting there was all he needed to do.
Chahun, expecting proper education, headed to the Center with trembling heart. But contrary to expectations, the Zone A awakened ones didn’t comfort Chahun’s clumsy ability; instead, they were busy ridiculing “what kind of S-class is this?”
Even a steadfast person would become crooked in such a place, so it was only natural for the still young Chahun to go astray.
Seeing Chahun training while ignoring the mockery, the Center Director chastised rather than praised him, asking why he was working so hard when he was already perfect without practice, and the Deputy Director unconditionally defended Chahun, saying whatever Chahun did was well done and the rest were not good enough.
No wonder the kid has such a bad attitude.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
