PV Ch.11 Part 1

#11. Sacrifice

Yoon Bisam was the first to burst out, his feet pounding the ground. He was checking for any falling debris, just in case. Han Biseong followed close behind, cradling Bomin in his arms.

Red blood dripped from Song Jaeho’s nose. Even for him, it wasn’t easy to withstand the collapsing mountain.

A wave of warmth pulsed through his body, a dull ache radiating from his heart. Behind Song Jaeho, the debris freed from his telekinesis came crashing down with a roar. 

“Everyone… increase your speed…!”

On top of that, his volatility level indicating potential overload continued to rise rapidly. It felt like the color on his bracelet would switch from blue to yellow any second now. 

Veins pulsed in his neck as Song Jaeho spat out the words. Glancing back, Yoon Bisam created a wedge-shaped ice wall in front of them.

KWA-KWA-KWA-KWA-KWANG!

The sound of the building debris and earth being frozen solid and then pulverized echoed through the space. Han Biseong kept a protective layer of flames around Bomin, but concentrated his magic on his legs. He didn’t care about the injuries piling up on his own body as he pushed through the falling debris.

“Almost there! Song Jaeho, just hold on a little longer!”

He could see the light from the exit in his vision. Currently, the opening was just wide enough for three adult men to squeeze through, but even that was being swallowed up by the relentless debris. 

“Cough….”

Song Jaeho, his upper body stained crimson from the blood he was coughing up, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He mustered the last of his strength. He felt a dizzying sense of exhaustion, like he’d pass out if he closed his eyes. This was the first time he’d pushed his magic to its absolute limit.

His body and instincts screamed at him, warning him of danger. But all Song Jaeho could think about was Bomin’s safety, faintly visible in Han Biseong’s arms.

His arm, outstretched towards the exit, began to tremble dangerously. His remaining magic was rapidly draining away. 

Instead of speeding up, he focused his remaining energy on holding up the ceiling to ensure Bomin’s safe passage.

500 meters, 300 meters, 100 meters…

Yoon Bisam was the first to escape the heart of Non-K’s base. Han Biseong followed right behind him.

By then, the exit was barely wide enough for a small child to squeeze through, its size completely consumed by the collapsing debris.

“Song Jaeho…!”

Han Biseong turned his head back the moment he stepped out of the exit. Song Jaeho, who was definitely behind him just moments ago, was now standing frozen in place, far from the exit.

“What the hell is that bastard doing…!”

Han Biseong set Bomin down on the ground and turned back to go back into the tunnel. But before he could react, a massive amount of dirt and debris filled the remaining space of the tunnel and exit, sealing it shut. 

* * *

Drip. Drip.

The sound of water droplets echoed in his ears. A faint scent of disinfectant, familiar and comforting, tickled his nostrils.

His pale face, framed by thick, black eyelashes that fluttered like butterfly wings, was the only splash of color in the sterile white room. After a long while, his eyelids finally fluttered open, revealing blurry, unfocused eyes.

“Ah…”

His throat felt like it was on fire, raw and parched from days without water. Lee Bomin winced, pressing his hand against his throbbing forehead. He tried to gather his ragged breaths, but the pain was overwhelming.

“Guide Lee Bomin.”

The voice was vaguely familiar. Bomin forced his eyes open, focusing on the figure standing beside him.

“I’m Esper Jin Gyugeon. Do you recognize me?”

His throat was too dry to speak, so Bomin simply nodded weakly.

“When you were brought in, your condition was critical. It’s been four days since you regained consciousness.”

No wonder his throat felt like sandpaper. Four days. Bomin tried to recall the events leading up to his unconsciousness.

The deafening roar of collapsing walls. Song Jaeho calling his name. Bomin had tried to answer, but his body refused to obey, leaving him crumpled on the ground.

Then, a fleeting image of Han Biseong, his face etched with concern, despite his usual stoic demeanor. Bomin remembered a fleeting, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips.

A cacophony of shattering glass and crashing metal filled his ears. His vision blurred, and he clung to a strong embrace, his body growing weaker by the second.

His breath hitched, his heartbeat fading into a distant drum.

Rumble. The sound of collapsing debris was the last thing he remembered.

“Your Guiding magic levels are also concerningly low. They’ve deteriorated even further than the last examination. While minor fluctuations are normal, the gap between your maximum and minimum levels is widening.”

Jin Gyugeon’s words were a blur, but Bomin understood the gravity of the situation. His condition had worsened since his previous hospitalization.

Ever since he’d been pulled into this world, his health seemed to decline with each passing day.

“Absolutely no leaving the hospital this time. You need to rest for at least a week to recover properly. I’ll be giving Esper Jin Harin a strict order as well, so make sure you stay and get treated. Understood?” 

Jin Gyugeon’s tone was firm, like a strict teacher addressing a troublesome student. Bomin nodded weakly. He knew, deep down, that a week of hospitalization was inevitable. Even keeping his eyes open felt like a monumental effort.

“Several Espers visited while you were unconscious, Guide Lee Bomin. I turned them all away, assuring them you needed complete rest.”

Were they all alright?

As S-rank Espers, they were likely unharmed. Still, a nagging sense of unease gnawed at him.

“Do you want to see them? If not, I can continue to keep them away.”

Jin Gyugeon offered a gentle smile, disarming even the most stubborn patient.

Bomin, lost in thought, opened his mouth to speak, but a sharp pain lanced through his throat. He winced, his brow furrowing.

“If it’s difficult to speak, just write it down here.”

Jin Gyugeon extended his palm, offering Bomin a surface to write on. Slowly, painstakingly, Bomin used his index finger to scrawl a message.

‘It’s okay.’

“Understood. I’ll inform them that you’re open to visitors.”

After thoroughly checking Bomin’s vitals, Jin Gyugeon finally left the room. The silence that descended was suffocating, reminiscent of the place where he’d been held captive by Non-K. Bomin’s heart pounded in his chest, a frantic rhythm against his ribs.

He drifted in and out of a restless sleep, his mind a whirlwind of fragmented thoughts. Each time his thoughts spiraled, his breath hitched, forcing him to shut them down.

The door burst open, shattering the silence. Unlike Jin Gyugeon’s quiet entrance, this was a violent intrusion.

“Bomin!”

…What the…?

Bomin’s hand trembled, startled by the sudden appearance. He slowly opened his eyes.

“Ugh…”

“Hnngh… I thought… I thought you were dead…”

The weight of the person leaning over him pressed down on Bomin’s chest. He weakly raised his trembling hand, intending to push him away. But his grip was weak, and he ended up simply stroking the soft hair beneath his fingers.

“Move… away…” 

His voice was hoarse, barely a whisper.

“Sorry. Are you alright? Does anything hurt? Let me check.”

Kim Seohun, his face streaked with tears, lifted his head from Bomin’s chest. He gently pushed back Bomin’s hair, his eyes, wide and filled with worry, scanning his face.

“Pfft…”

“Mm…?”

Kim Seohun’s lips parted in a bewildered silence. Bomin couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of his swollen, puffy eyes.

“Your eyes…”

Bomin had intended to scold him for barging in without considering his condition. But the sight of Kim Seohun’s eyes, swollen to twice their normal size, made him burst into laughter.

Kim Seohun had always had small eyes, but now they were practically invisible beneath the puffy lids. His nose was red and swollen, and his entire face resembled a pufferfish.

“Hic… you’re alright. Thank goodness…”

Tears streamed down Kim Seohun’s face as he pulled Bomin into a tight embrace. Bomin, overwhelmed by the force of his hug, weakly patted his back, trying to soothe him.

Kim Seohun’s sobs were so intense that Bomin feared his hospital gown would be soaked through. Finally, Kim Seohun pulled away, his face still stained with tears.

He continued to sniffle, gently tracing the contours of Bomin’s face with his trembling fingers. His touch was careful, almost reverent. He even checked Bomin’s limbs, making sure they were properly attached.

Seeing Kim Seohun’s concern, Bomin forgot his own discomfort and laughed, a genuine, heartfelt laugh.

Each laugh sent a searing pain through his throat, but after a few attempts, he managed to bear it.

“Ah, it’s been a while since I’ve laughed…”

“Hehe.”

He would have found it annoying if anyone else had laughed like that, but it somehow suited Kim Seohun. Bomin raised his hand and ruffled Kim Seohun’s hair playfully.

“Were you worried about me?”

“Yeah. I went out to get something to eat, but when I came back, you were gone, and the room was a mess…”

Tears welled up in Kim Seohun’s eyes again, trailing down his cheeks.

“You must have been really scared. When I suddenly disappeared.”

“Everyone thought you were dead…”

Bomin could tell how much Kim Seohun had suffered just by looking at the dark circles under his eyes. Seeing him cry so hard, almost dehydrated, evoked a strange mix of emotions in Bomin.

Someone cared about his well-being. It had been too long since he’d felt that.