TS 038

Here?

The use of abilities on patients in Wing H was strictly prohibited. Officially, at least. 

“You didn’t get authorization, did you?” 

If she had, they would have transferred Pavel to a different wing, following protocol. A patient dying in Wing H, especially under these circumstances, would be… problematic. While there were rare exceptions, cases where an operation within Wing H was deemed necessary, those usually involved multiple telepathic Espers, a precautionary measure to ensure safety and minimize the risk of complications.

While it was a significant breach of protocol, Yoon Taehwa’s tone was casual, almost dismissive. He wasn’t one for bureaucratic procedures, prioritizing efficiency over formalities. And with Shin Ae-hi, his superior, blatantly disregarding the rules, there was little point in upholding them. 

“We’ll get it later.”

“Where did you hit a snag?”

“The top. Chief Secretary Kang.”

Shin Ae-hi sighed, unbuttoning her cuffs. 

“Very few people know about Monomorium’s presence in Korea. We can’t risk leaks, not when we don’t even know the extent of their reach.”

Her gaze settled on Han Suryeon, who was watching them silently. 

“Don’t worry about leaks from our side. I took care of things before coming to Korea.” 

Shin Ae-hi, acknowledging his response with a raised eyebrow, turned back to Yoon Taehwa.

“They’re using the ‘human rights’ card. As if they actually care. They’re just trying to keep me in check.”

Internal politics, as usual.

“So we improvise.” 

“Did you hear about the trigger?” 

Yoon Taehwa, watching as Shin Ae-hi approached Pavel’s bed, asked the question. He suspected Dr. Kim’s brief conversation in the hallway had been about the drug. 

“Yes, something about amplifying stress.”

Shin Ae-hi nodded, her expression grim. 

“Which confirms it. We have a mole.” 

“Indeed. If the objective had been simply to eliminate Pavel, they wouldn’t have bothered with the injection.”

The drugs were ultimately evidence. Pavel’s clothes, as well as the building he was staying in, were rigged with explosives. There was no need to inject him with drugs on top of that. It was an excessively inefficient method for a triple-layered plan. Wasn’t this akin to leaving evidence behind, like they did now? 

‘And the timing of the second explosion… They were definitely targeting either me or Han Suryeon.’

It was no secret that Yoon Taehwa, the Team Leader of South Korea’s Elite Team, possessed the ability to nullify other Espers’ powers. Perhaps they had planned to force Pavel into a rampage, using his volatile state to create an opportunity to eliminate them both. 

“Don’t you think they were after you, Team Leader? That terrorist attack…it was suspicious.” 

Han Suryeon, who had been leaning against the bed frame, his gaze fixed on Pavel, straightened up, his eyes meeting Yoon Taehwa’s. 

“That’s a possibility.” 

“It’s annoying, all these people are obsessed with you…” 

He puffed out his cheeks, pouting playfully. 

“If it’s so annoying, deal with them yourself.” 

“Oh? Can I do that?” 

“One less rival to worry about.” 

Han Suryeon’s smile widened, his eyes crinkling. 

“I’ll make sure you’re the only one who can have me. I’ll… eliminate the competition.” 

“Eliminate? Not ‘stack them up neatly’?”

“No, ‘stack them up’ is correct.”

‘Stack them up’? As if he were building a pyramid of corpses. 

“You two seem to be getting along. I’ve heard rumors.” 

Shin Ae-hi, her tone laced with amusement, interrupted them. 

“All thanks to my relentless pursuit.” 

“Well, we’re going to be working together for a while. Teamwork is… essential. Anyway…” 

She eyed them both, her gaze sharp, before pulling something out of her pocket. 

“I didn’t think you’d resort to that, Director.”

Yoon Taehwa frowned, recognizing the object: a crystal, a rare artifact found only within dungeons. 

“We need to keep him alive. Kasatka will want him back.”

Yoon Taehwa glanced at Han Suryeon, who was still leaning against the bed, his gaze fixed on Pavel. His cheerful facade was unreadable, his thoughts a mystery. 

“It’s a one-time use, unfortunately. But there’s nothing quite like it for amplifying an Esper’s abilities.”

Shin Ae-hi rolled the small crystal between her fingers. 

Crystals, mined from dungeons, possessed unique properties. One of their most sought-after qualities was their ability to enhance an Esper’s power. In extreme cases, an A-rank Esper, utilizing a high-grade crystal, could temporarily reach S-rank levels.

And amplification meant a decrease in the need for control. If a task required a certain level of focus, the crystal acted as a… shortcut, reducing the amount of effort required. 

“That must be from your personal collection, Director.” 

Shin Ae-hi grimaced, her expression sour. 

With the government managing all dungeons, most crystals were considered government property. However, the Center didn’t control the entire supply. A significant portion was auctioned off to private collectors, which made them highly sought-after, regardless of type or grade.

“If I’d gotten authorization, I would have used one from the Center’s reserves. But under the circumstances…”

Center Espers had access to the government’s crystal reserves, but the approval process was tedious, and a digital trail was created for every transaction. For an off-the-books operation like this, utilizing personal resources was the only option. 

“So even crystals are government property in Korea?”

Han Suryeon straightened up, his question casual, almost disinterested. 

“Unlike Russia, where the major Guilds control the dungeons. While the Guilds who clear them usually get ownership rights, the Center handles everything here.” 

“Do you have any, Team Leader?” 

“Why? You think I wouldn’t?” 

Yoon Taehwa’s smile was mocking, a challenge. He’d never used them personally, but he did have a few in his possession. Or rather, they were technically owned by Tae Sung.

“That’s a shame… If you’d said you didn’t, I could’ve tempted you with that.”

“I really don’t know what you take me for, Suryeon.”

A puff of air escaped his lips, curling into a smirk, and the corners of his eyes crinkled. It was closer to a laugh devoid of amusement than genuine laughter. Moments like these made him realize Han Suryeon truly was an Esper from a different country.

“What was it again…? A third-generation chaebol heir?”

Yoon Taehwa had never lived without something he wanted. This held true for both before and after he awakened as an Esper. He wasn’t particularly materialistic, but he had never experienced a life of want. 

“This is bad. It’s going to be tough to win over our Team Leader… Handsome and rich, what do I do? I’m going to have so much competition.”

He showed no restraint in his flirtatious behavior, even with Shin Ae-hi, who was significantly older than him, standing right there.

‘He seems to lack any self-awareness as the leader of a strike squad… Well…’ 

Even his most outrageous displays of affection, his playful banter, never felt… insincere. It was the confidence, the underlying sense of power, that made it work.

“Do as you please.” 

“I will, Team Leader.” 

Even with such a dismissive response, Han Suryeon remained undeterred. 

Yoon Taehwa turned his attention back to the task at hand. Shin Ae-hi was examining Pavel, her fingers tracing the contours of his skull, searching for the optimal entry point. As a non-telepath, he couldn’t decipher the specifics of what she was doing, but it was a familiar sight, an Esper preparing to delve into someone’s mind. 

“Team Leader Yoon, you do the recording.”

Finally realizing the situation, Shin Ae-hi tossed him the voice recorder. Yoon Taehwa effortlessly caught the device as it flew towards him.

“It doesn’t really matter since I’ll remember it anyway, but it’s good to have a few words recorded in case you need to jog your memory later.” 

“Anything I should be careful of?”

“Just don’t interrupt.” 

Shin Ae-hi leaned over Pavel, her hand resting on his forehead. 

The room was silent. Even Han Suryeon, usually a chatterbox, was quiet. Yoon Taehwa glanced at his watch. 

‘It’s been thirty minutes…’ 

He had no idea when she’d started the extraction. But it was taking longer than expected.

He folded his arms, settling in for a long wait.

“Found it.”

A hand, hidden beneath his folded arms, pressed the record button. 

“Ha, look at this.”

Shin Ae-hi’s eyes were open. Her posture, bent over with her hand resting on Pavel’s head, remained perfectly still, but her eyes fluttered open and closed at regular intervals. The skin around her lightly wrinkled eyes twitched and trembled. 

“They’ve already met once. They were indeed in Seoul.”

Although there was no specific pronoun mentioned, it was clear she was talking about Monomorium. So, it was Seoul after all. Yoon Taehwa kept his arms crossed and focused on Shin Ae-hi’s murmur.

‘The question is when to reveal this information.’

Now that they had confirmed the existence of Monomorium, the information about their whereabouts couldn’t be kept secret among a select few. However, they needed the right timing to disclose this. Once it was revealed that a key figure in the terrorist group was in Korea, a whole host of problems would inevitably arise.

‘And it had to be Korea…’ 

A terrorist organization operating in a divided country… He could already envision the stock market in turmoil.

‘If this becomes a major issue, then Han Suryeon’s existence will also…’

He glanced at Han Suryeon. 

Han Suryeon, his face uncharacteristically devoid of emotion, was staring down at Pavel, his hand resting on his cheek. While his lips were hidden from view, his grey eyes were cold, calculating. 

His left eye twitched, his beauty mark deepening.