Hyun Je-ha didn’t care whether his teammates were whispering behind his back or not. Let them misunderstand—what did it matter to him? Honestly, it wasn’t even all that far from the truth.
What mattered was one thing and one thing only: Ga-hyun had finally reached out to him.
The world, once dulled and lifeless in monotone, burst back into vivid color—like he’d just received guiding. Brilliant, dazzling, radiant.
So bright, in fact, that he completely forgot they were in the middle of tracking down X—a deadly serious mission.
Said he was busy…
He’d been a little crushed when Ga-hyun sent that text saying it’d be hard to stay in touch for a while.
He’d even felt a childish urge to throw a tantrum, asking what could be so important about that so-called training. At one point, he’d nearly given in to the wild impulse to bring Ga-hyun into the hideout, keep him close, and protect him himself.
But he hadn’t. He’d exercised near-superhuman restraint.
Because Ga-hyun’s will—his agency, his choice to live on—was worth infinitely more than Hyun Je-ha’s selfish desire.
He didn’t want to do anything Ga-hyun would hate. Because he didn’t want to be hated.
What he wanted was to once again see that gaze filled with affection and trust, just like before. He wanted to fill the hollow space left in his heart over the twenty years without Ga-hyun until it bloomed green again with life.
So he waited. Pretending it didn’t bother him. Sent a text saying he’d wait until Ga-hyun reached out first.
Even though deep down, he desperately hoped that damn special training would end soon—so he could see him again.
Thankfully, before Hyun Je-ha’s paper-thin patience ran out, Ga-hyun had contacted him first.
So there’s a possible connection between Jin Eutteum’s disappearance and X…
The final character of Ga-hyun’s message looked incomplete—probably typed hastily.
He must’ve been in such a rush to tell me.
Knowing Ga-hyun’s impatient personality, the messy text only made it seem more endearing.
Hyun Je-ha stared at his phone screen like he was about to lick it, earning side-eyes from his Baekho Unit comrades, who now wore grim expressions.
“He looks so happy…”
“Seriously. I swear I saw cherry blossoms floating around the captain just now.”
“Someone really should stop this doomed love.”
“But the guy’s smiling so brightly, looking so happy… I can’t bring myself to say anything.”
“…Let’s just die instead.”
Who would’ve thought the cold, solitary wolf that was their captain could make such a soft, sappy face…?
The Baekho Unit members couldn’t tell whether to feel happy or cry. They ended up just wearing ambiguous expressions.
Unbothered—or perhaps just unaware—Hyun Je-ha spoke in his usual calm tone.
“We got a tip.”
“A… tip?”
“About the dungeon break in the park last time. Someone suggested that X might be involved in the disappearance of Jin Eutteum, the A-rank Esper who was caught up in that incident.”
Geum Na-ro, the team’s intelligence expert, practically had a question mark pop up over his head.
They’d never planted an informant capable of giving them tips like this.
The Baekho Unit usually got intel the hard way—hitting the streets, gathering it themselves. The world was merciless to those who’d been erased from the system.
What’s more, the fact that this so-called tip came from a Guide—and from Hyun Je-ha’s rumored new crush—was just unbelievable.
“How much does the captain actually trust this Guide?”
“No way… He didn’t tell him everything, did he?”
“You think he told him everything? Come on, our captain’s not that dumb. He’s not insane.”
A storm of telepathic chatter flitted silently among the members—a method they could use thanks to one teammate with actual telepathy.
No one wanted to be the first to ask, but finally, unable to bear the tension, Geum Na-ro stepped up and asked the question.
“Is the person who gave us this information… trustworthy?”
“Absolutely.”
Hyun Je-ha answered without a moment’s hesitation.
“I’d stake my life on it. You can trust them.”
“Well… If you say so, Captain… Understood.”
Geum Na-ro backed down, unable to press further. If the captain was willing to bet his life on this Guide, then what more could be said? They had to trust him.
Of course, that didn’t stop the Baekho Unit from nearly bursting with curiosity over just who this Guide was. But Hyun Je-ha didn’t give them the chance to get distracted.
He stared at Ga-hyun’s message for a while longer, then finally spoke again.
“Samoa.”
“Y-yes, sir!”
“Just like we planned—you’ll be in charge of tracking X.”
Samoa flinched.
“But Captain, like I said earlier—we don’t even know anything about X’s abilities. There’s no way I can find someone like that…”
“You can. X is the prime suspect in Jin Eutteum’s disappearance. All you need to do is investigate his whereabouts.”
Back when he was secretly tailing Yeon Yu-jin—unaware that he was actually Ahn Ga-hyun—Hyun Je-ha had witnessed the sudden dungeon break in the park and found it suspicious.
Strange. That gate didn’t show any signs of a break coming. And the A-rank Esper who entered it? Vanished without a trace. That make sense to anyone?
It was like someone had tampered with the entire situation.
This was a world where you could even buy return stones in case you got stuck in a dungeon.
And while return stones weren’t cheap, there was no way a popular Esper like Jin Eutteum couldn’t afford one.
From that day forward, Hyun Je-ha had been keeping close tabs on the incident.
He’d even launched a quiet investigation alongside Geum Na-ro and Ha Ri-ra.
“Whether Jin Eutteum’s dead or alive, if X captured him to steal his ability, then finding Jin Eutteum might lead us straight to X.”
“Ah!”
Samoa’s face lit up.
“In that case, our search narrows dramatically! If we can track Jin Eutteum’s DNA—hair, bodily fluids—or his lightning ability itself, we can locate him. And if that fails, we could still try using a family member’s genetic data.”
At Hyun Je-ha’s nod, Ha Ri-ra quietly handed over a vacuum-sealed pouch containing several strands of hair.
“Is this from one of Jin Eutteum’s relatives?”
Samoa asked, and Ha Ri-ra chuckled.
“Wrong. I got this pretending to be a new agent at the Bureau who’s super eager to find Jin Eutteum.”
“What if you’d been caught by the Bureau?”
“It’s fine. The captain used Memory Erasure on them, so nothing to worry about.”
“You really are… Something else.”
“Oh please, you liked it.”
Ha Ri-ra, the team’s operations lead, had a habit of solving problems with reckless boldness.
Hyun Je-ha was well aware of her flaws—but this time, he’d actively supported her.
“Well, it’s a good thing it worked out. And with this, tracking him should be a lot easier!”
Samoa practically snorted with excitement.
Hyun Je-ha smiled faintly.
“Unfortunately, the Bureau’s investigation was too tight for us to get into the dungeon and collect traces directly. But with this, the game’s still very playable.”
“Of course. I’ll start right away!”
Samoa dropped to the floor and activated her ability.
“Tracking Array Deployment.”
A circular array of emerald glyphs spread out around her, etched in complex patterns.
Samoa was an A-rank Esper. Her ability: Tracking.
Its official name, as dubbed by researchers, was Ariadne’s Thread.
It was a name pulled from mythology—fitting for a power this unique.
As long as she had a personal item linked to the target, her success rate was nearly one hundred percent.
When she placed the hair in the center of the array, it floated into the air, disintegrated into dust, and the tracking circle lit up in a glowing green.
Fwaaah—
That same green shimmer appeared in Samoa’s eyes.
“Scanning genetic data… acquiring coordinates…”
Waves of shimmering information danced above the array and her eyes, flickering and fading, over and over.
Then her body swayed.
“Ugh… I found him. Jin Eutteum.”
Her face had gone pale. That was the cost of her precise, powerful ability.
“You did good. So? Where is he?”
Samoa swallowed back the nausea rising in her throat and forced an answer.
“He’s… in an abandoned factory in a run-down area. I’ll send you the address.”
The mood in the room went somber.
At the word factory, the whole unit fell silent.
Hyun Je-ha asked in a low voice.
“Is he still alive?”
Samoa shook her head.
“No life signs. I’m sorry, but… he’s already dead.”
Hyun Je-ha stood, face set in stone.
“Let’s go retrieve Jin Eutteum’s body.
X might actually be there—this time.”
***
A cold, dark, abandoned factory.
Thick with cobwebs, and yet, three distinctly out-of-place figures occupied the space.
One was Jin Eutteum—already dead.
Another was Ban Noah, sharply dressed in a neatly pressed suit.
He sat casually on a worn-out chair, leisurely checking his wristwatch.
“…Should be here soon.”
In his palm rested a red marble, no bigger than a pea.
He plucked the gleaming orb between his fingers and held it out to someone standing nearby.
“Do exactly what I told you… and I’ll give this to you.”
