Chapter 17
Crouched under the pressure, Yeonwoo only moved his eyes to look at Chahun. Both the ice crystals wildly swirling around Chahun and the mana flowing from him were terribly ominous.
Despite this, Chahun just stood there with his arms hanging at his sides. If he were thrashing about, Yeonwoo could at least try to calm him down. But with Chahun’s hands trembling with anger yet remaining so still and quietly suppressing his rage, there was nothing to say.
It seemed a bit much to tell someone who was already holding back their anger to calm down.
Swallowing dryly, Yeonwoo looked at Chahun’s hair gleaming black in the light. It’s still fine. The moment his hair turns silver, we’re all dead.
If the color starts to fade even a little… Shifting his gaze, Yeonwoo glanced at the call button on the wall.
“We’re all dead.”
The moment Chahun took a step, Yeonwoo’s knees, which had been trembling delicately, buckled.
“What? What’s wrong?”
Chahun, who had been walking away with long strides, came back and supported Yeonwoo. As soon as Chahun’s hand touched him, Yeonwoo exhaled a ragged breath and wiggled his fingertips as if to avoid Chahun’s hand. At this pitiful gesture that couldn’t even push him away, Chahun let go, and Yeonwoo shifted his body to avoid him.
“What is it?”
“…Mana, a bit…”
Frowning as if he didn’t understand, Chahun finally noticed the sparkling ice crystals surrounding him. He waved his hand as if shooing away flies, and only then did Yeonwoo escape the pressure and exhale a thin breath.
“What? Was it because of me?”
As if I’d collapse on my own.
Getting up with his hands on his knees, Yeonwoo massaged his numb hands and looked up at Chahun. Both his hair and pupils were still pure black. S-class really is S-class. Even after drawing out that much mana while in mana overload, he’s still fine.
“Are you okay?”
“I am.”
When Chahun asked if “Hyung” was okay, Yeonwoo pointed to his forehead. Following Yeonwoo’s fingertip, Chahun touched his own forehead and frowned deeply.
As if he could be okay.
“You’re bleeding there.”
Blood was slowly seeping from beneath the long bandage above his eyebrow. It would be strange if the wound hadn’t reopened after all that commotion.
“Here too.”
At Yeonwoo’s words, Chahun touched the corner of his mouth and inhaled sharply as if it stung. What kind of training is he doing that he gets more injuries every time I see him?
While Yeonwoo was debating whether to have him change clothes first or go to the treatment room, he turned to look at Chahun.
Blood was flowing down Chahun’s face as he had removed the bandage that seemed to bother him.
‘Get up.’
At the faint voice that seemed to brush past, Yeonwoo jerked his head up and looked around. His heart was pounding madly with fear. Gasping for breath, Yeonwoo reached out and grabbed Chahun.
We need to escape.
To where?
From whom?
A ringing in his ears that felt like it would tear them apart came along with dizziness. Even as he clutched his head and staggered, Yeonwoo hurriedly looked around. Despite standing in an ordinary corridor of Zone C, cold sweat was gathering on his back from fear.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
His breath caught. Trembling involuntarily, Yeonwoo quickly lowered his gaze and swallowed a scream. The tips of his feet were melting. It was that damned hallucination again.
Covering his mouth, Yeonwoo forced his convulsing eyelids open. My feet are fine. He mumbled for a long time, looking down at his toes, then shook his head to clear the memory.
“What’s wrong with you?”
Suppressing his rapid breathing, Yeonwoo pointed to Chahun’s scars.
“Don’t you want to get treatment?”
Unlike Zone C, which required going to a treatment room, Zone A had healing-type Espers on standby.
Why don’t you get treatment promptly instead of surprising people?
At Yeonwoo’s question, asked with wide eyes, Chahun raised his hand to cover his wound. Then he grimaced as if his fingertips had touched the wound. Looking up at Chahun, Yeonwoo roughly wiped away the cold sweat on his forehead.
Chahun didn’t seem inclined to answer, and Yeonwoo hadn’t asked expecting one. Having no desire to look at a blood-stained face any longer, Yeonwoo gestured toward the bag containing clothes. His meaning was clear: change clothes quickly and get out to Zone A.
“I heard that for Espers, wounds like this just heal on their own.”
Yeonwoo’s hand faltered as he passed the bag.
“W-who said that?”
The momentary surprise was enough to make his tongue trip.
There was no answer to his question. Biting his tongue, Yeonwoo looked up at Chahun, who was covering his wound.
“Esper Kang Chahun. Are you a healing-type?”
“No, I’m not.”
“Then what self-healing nonsense…”
Letting his words trail off, Yeonwoo glanced at Chahun’s face. From the blood still flowing, the forehead wound seemed quite deep. There was a bruise on his right jaw. Seeing his split lip as well, it looked like he’d been punched. A weapon and fists. Was he in combat training?
Clicking his tongue, Yeonwoo gestured to Chahun.
* * *
“Where does it hurt?”
The place they arrived at was the treatment room.
“Nowhere.”
“Then, why…”
Chahun’s face, which had been muttering, twisted fiercely. And then he glared at Yeonwoo with a face stained with betrayal.
What, what’s the problem?
“I don’t want treatment.”
“Then are you going to walk around covered in blood like that?”
No need to create ghost stories at the Center. If you won’t get treatment, at least change your bandages. Yeonwoo gestured to Chahun and knocked on the treatment room door.
“Here for treatment?”
The door slid open, and a healing-type Esper appeared. Come in. Despite the invitation, Chahun didn’t move. Flinching as if he wanted to escape from this place immediately, Chahun glanced at Yeonwoo.
“Hyung, your feet?”
My feet? At Chahun’s words, Yeonwoo looked down at his feet. The healer’s gaze followed.
“They look fine to me.”
“No, just now, clearly…”
Chahun blinked as he looked at Yeonwoo’s puzzled expression, as if he didn’t understand what he was talking about. Didn’t you say something about your feet earlier? But now you’re walking perfectly fine…
Still, he definitely looked uncomfortable somewhere. As Chahun looked down at Yeonwoo, the healer approached and lightly touched Chahun’s cheek.
At that moment, Chahun reached out and grabbed Yeonwoo. Pale pink mana rose and wrapped around his split lip, bruised jaw, and long gash. All the while, Chahun kept his eyes tightly shut.
Is he trembling right now?
“There, done.”
Despite the healer’s words, Chahun couldn’t straighten his hunched body. Looking down at his hand, which had turned purple from lack of circulation, Yeonwoo couldn’t help but gently shake Chahun’s arm. Only then did Chahun’s lips burst out with a gasp.
“W-what, what did you do?”
Chahun glared at the healer and Yeonwoo with a fierce face, his eyebrows raised as high as they could go. The healer shrugged at Chahun and closed the door, leaving Chahun to look down at Yeonwoo and intensify his gaze as if demanding an answer.
“They healed you, of course.”
“What, no, huh? That just now… that was healing?”
“Yes. Now can you let go of me?”
At those words, Chahun, who was still holding Yeonwoo, hesitantly let go. His grip had been so tight that even through the training uniform, Yeonwoo’s arm tingled. While Yeonwoo shook out his arm, Chahun touched his now smooth forehead and lips, blinking with docile eyes.
After bringing the suddenly docile Chahun back to the supply office, Yeonwoo was about to send him to the changing room when—
“Hahaha.”
Chahun, who had been heading obediently to the changing room with his bag, suddenly burst out laughing. He’s not a child; he must be happy about getting new clothes.
“These damn bastards.”
Guess not.
Chahun, who had thrown off his training uniform as if tearing it, was about to run off when he saw Yeonwoo and froze. Then he suddenly strode toward Yeonwoo.
“Hyung. Healing isn’t supposed to hurt, right?”
“It depends on the person, but—”
“Don’t roll your eyes.”
“Usually, it doesn’t hurt.”
Chahun, who had been groaning with his face in his hands, jerked his head up to meet Yeonwoo’s eyes. Looking alternately at Yeonwoo, who was crouched down, and the ice crystals, Chahun caught one of the flying ice crystals.
“I’ll get changed and come back.”
Chahun sighed and took out a training uniform from the bag. As he held the obviously loose-looking uniform against his body, Chahun laughed in disbelief and went into the changing room.
Watching Chahun’s retreating figure, Yeonwoo crossed his arms. It seems beyond just ostracizing the kid; they’re abusing him… Otherwise, why would he be so terrified? If it was his first time being healed, he would have been amazed, like when he saw the mana ball; there was no reason to tremble with fear.
Was such a scene written in the book?
Even trying to recall the book’s contents, the memories were only faint. It seemed like he had read it quite a lot and for a long time, enough to memorize the content…
…Well, he’ll figure it out.
After trying to recall and giving up, Yeonwoo looked Chahun up and down as he walked out briskly. The pants are a bit short.
“Anything uncomfortable?”
“No.”
Chahun, who had changed into the exchanged clothes, lightly jumped up, causing the thigh belt and auxiliary bag in his hands to dangle.
“Why didn’t you put those on?”
“I don’t know how.”
So bold about it.
As Yeonwoo took the auxiliary bag, Chahun moved very close to him.
“Right-handed? Left-handed?”
“Right-handed.”
Yeonwoo pushed away Chahun’s obediently extended right arm and attached the bag to his left forearm, then gave it a light tug. Seeing the securely fastened bag, he looked at Chahun as if asking if he understood, and Chahun nodded. When Yeonwoo disassembled the bag and handed it over, Chahun accepted it with an enthusiastic face and began to assemble it.
“No. That loop goes to the opposite side.”
Although he struggled a bit, the corners of Chahun’s mouth crept up after securing the bag. Yeonwoo gave a small applause and opened the bag to put rolling medicine bottles back in their places. He showed Chahun the sound of the bottles clicking into place, then pulled one out and placed it in Chahun’s hand. Without separate explanation, Chahun was learning to use it by repeatedly inserting, removing, and reinserting the medicine bottle.
“Stick out your right foot.”
Chahun, who had inserted the medicine bottle, obediently extended his right foot.
“Where are your gun and weapons?”
“I don’t have any.”
“What?”
Yeonwoo’s brow furrowed deeply. They beat his face like that without even giving him basic weapons?
“They said they’d give them after training ends.”
At those words, Yeonwoo blinked his eyelashes rapidly. Wait, then what do they train with? Bare hands?
Yeonwoo touched his forehead and unfolded the thigh belt.
“Later, go and… say you want basic weapons to get used to the weight. If they say it’s dangerous, say you know they’re fake, so just give them to you. When you get them, the gun goes here, knife here, ammunition here. Wear them from tomorrow.”
While Chahun nodded and checked by pointing at the belt, Yeonwoo checked for any defects in the places where weapons would go. Just as he was about to wrap the belt around Chahun’s thigh—
“Wait!”
Chahun hurriedly backed away, and Yeonwoo blankly looked down at the back of his own hand.
No… why would that go on his thigh…
Barely suppressing the urge to gouge out the back of his hand, Yeonwoo handed over the belt, and Chahun, who was about five steps away, snatched it.
“I’ll do it myself!”
“Okay. Do it yourself.”
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
