90

Dr. Cha frowned as he reviewed the energy control metrics on the monitor. Ha-gyeom, scratching his nape awkwardly, mirrored the doctor’s expression.

“Eighty-nine percent…” Dr. Cha muttered.

It wasn’t hard to understand why he was displeased, but as a guide, Ha-gyeom couldn’t help but feel annoyed that even his energy levels seemed to expose whether he’d had penetrative sex with Baek Sa.

“I heard the lovers’ quarrel was quite the spectacle. Haven’t you made up yet?” Dr. Cha asked, his curiosity showing no sign of waning.

The bizarre rumors swirling around were clearly fueled by someone, likely Park Ha or Yeo Jin-joo, who had participated in the collection mission with them. Perhaps both. Still, Ha-gyeom saw no reason to explain the full story behind his dramatic stunt to Dr. Cha. However, letting these baseless rumors spread unchecked seemed worse, so he offered a curt reply.

“We’ve made up.”

“Then why are your levels like this?”

“What’s wrong with them? If I don’t want to explain, what are you going to do about it?”

With a grumble, Ha-gyeom roughly tore off the sensors attached to his body. As the wires scattered across the floor, Dr. Cha scrambled to gather them up, muttering under his breath and adjusting his glasses habitually.

“Is Park Ha getting between you and Baek Sa?” Dr. Cha asked.

Completely wrong, Ha-gyeom thought, rolling his eyes. His moment with Park Ha had been nothing more than an impulsive act of defiance, fueled by anger at Baek Sa for deceiving him. There had never been any deeper feelings involved. Still, upon reflection, he could understand why Dr. Cha might misinterpret things—after all, Baek Sa’s clash with Park Ha had been loud enough for anyone nearby to overhear.

“Park Ha? That’s ridiculous,” Ha-gyeom said bluntly, cutting off any further questions.

He ignored Dr. Cha’s attempts to probe further and walked out, shutting the door firmly behind him. Thinking back on the incident with Park Ha only made him feel embarrassed, and he had no desire to prolong the conversation.

“All done,” Ha-gyeom muttered as he stepped into the hallway. Tae-seong, who had been waiting outside, turned to face him.

Ha-gyeom knew Baek Sa had assigned Tae-seong to keep a close watch on him, almost like a personal bodyguard. But the arrangement felt awkward, and the constant presence of a mercenary shadowing him like a secretary made him uncomfortably scratch the back of his head.

“Two hours of physical training, one hour of rest, then three hours of guide training,” Tae-seong recited, his expression betraying his boredom.

The packed schedule was relentless, and Ha-gyeom had never undergone such rigorous training before. But…

‘My body’s almost healed, and hyung already warned me. I’ll manage somehow.’

Accepting his circumstances, Ha-gyeom nodded without protest. The fact that the higher-ups here had assigned him training at all was proof that he had earned some degree of trust through the collection mission. It was a small but significant step forward.

Despite his determination to do well, Ha-gyeom’s curiosity couldn’t be quelled. He turned to Tae-seong, who was already striding ahead without a word.

“Do S-rank guides usually train separately like this?” he asked.

“If you’re S-rank, they usually leave you to your own devices,” Tae-seong replied with a dry tone, the comment clearly aimed at Ha-gyeom. Before he could retort, Tae-seong added, “Guides who know how to handle their energy properly don’t do things like self-harm stunts. If you want to take part in operations more advanced than collection missions, you’d better not pull something like that again. Think about Baek Sa’s reputation, too.”

Although Tae-seong hadn’t witnessed the rooftop incident firsthand, he had likely heard about it from Park Ha or Yeo Jin-joo, who had participated in the collection mission. Ha-gyeom felt his face heat up with embarrassment. Even so, he couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t act out like that again—it was impossible to predict how things might unfold.

“What kind of mission is so advanced it requires separate training?” he asked, deflecting from his earlier mistake. Tae-seong’s jaw tightened briefly before he replied.

“Don’t ask. It’s classified at my level.”

Classified. That single word heightened Ha-gyeom’s suspicions. In District 0, it was only natural for missions to be dubious or outright dangerous. Whatever operation required secrecy and additional training, it likely involved something far from ordinary.

As Ha-gyeom silently stared at the back of Tae-seong’s head, the latter glanced over his shoulder and said, “They wouldn’t bother giving special training to a guide who’s completely useless.”

The veiled insult hit home, and Ha-gyeom clenched his teeth. Interpreting the comment as an accusation of his inadequacy as a guide, he glared at Tae-seong.

“Say that again,” Ha-gyeom shot back, punching Tae-seong’s shoulder as he stormed ahead. There was no point pretending otherwise with someone who already knew everything about him.

The training room they arrived at was empty, a stroke of luck that allowed Ha-gyeom to exercise without an audience. Still, the thought of Tae-seong lingering outside the door the entire time left him feeling uneasy. Even when he returned to his private room for a shower and a short break, Tae-seong was stationed just beyond the threshold.

At precisely 3:00, a knock at the door signaled it was time to move again. Following familiar hallways and staircases, Ha-gyeom arrived at a training room he recognized—the one where he’d once tested his shooting skills alongside Baek Sa.

“Go in,” Tae-seong said.

Unlike his usual brusque demeanor, Tae-seong didn’t shove Ha-gyeom through the door but stood quietly cradling his rifle. Casting a wary glance at Tae-seong, Ha-gyeom turned the knob himself and stepped inside.

The room was empty. For several long minutes, he stood alone in the vast, almost overwhelming space. Then, faint sounds outside the door caught his attention. The door opened with a bang, and someone stumbled in, barely maintaining their balance.

Fixing her disheveled hair as she steadied herself was none other than—

“……!”

Ha-gyeom’s eyes widened. It was Gi Suh-hyun.

Though he had known she’d been captured during the collection mission, he hadn’t expected to encounter her here. Her pale complexion and unsteady gait suggested she was still recovering from her ordeal. Having pushed herself to protect her people, her body was clearly in poor condition. She staggered forward, the handcuffs on her wrists clinking softly, her dust-stained clothes a testament to her rough treatment. Knowing how rebellious guides were handled in District 0, Ha-gyeom felt his heart sink.

“……”

Failing to avoid her gaze, Ha-gyeom locked eyes with Gi Suh-hyun. Guilt gnawed at him as she scanned him from head to toe, her eyes filled with anger and resentment.

Before Ha-gyeom could say anything, a man entered the room, his voice booming.

“Form up!”

The man, likely in his late thirties, had light brown hair nearing blonde and pale eyes. His lean build and sharp features gave him an air of authority, though the strict and overbearing atmosphere he exuded made Ha-gyeom wonder if all S-rank guides here were like this.

“Name,” the man barked, his command short and military-like.

Ha-gyeom, still acutely aware of Gi Suh-hyun’s piercing gaze, answered hesitantly, “…Shin Ha-gyeom.”

Though his name hung in the air, Gi Suh-hyun remained silent. She stared blankly at the floor, her expression distant and closed-off.

“And you?” the man asked sharply, turning his attention to her.

The room fell into tense silence as he strode up to Gi Suh-hyun, stopping just short of invading her space. This time, he spoke softly, almost in a murmur.

“Name.”

Gi Suh-hyun didn’t answer.

By District 0’s standards, it wouldn’t have been surprising if the man slapped her for defying him. But instead of raising a hand, he crossed his arms and stood his ground, watching her with an unyielding intensity.

“Name,” he repeated.

The man continued to parrot the same word—name—over and over, until even Gi Suh-hyun’s expression showed exhaustion.

It wasn’t until the word had been repeated hundreds of times that she finally spoke her name aloud.

“Gi Suh-hyun.”

It didn’t seem like surrender. It was more akin to avoiding filth for the sake of practicality rather than fear. Her name was obvious to everyone in the room; giving it up to this strange parrot-like man seemed trivial by comparison.

‘If I had to endure that kind of interrogation, I’d rather take a punch and be done with it.’

For the next forty minutes, that thought circled endlessly in Ha-gyeom’s mind. Gi Suh-hyun, for her part, seemed equally irritated—her furrowed brows mirrored his own.

Eventually, her fatigue caught up with her, and she stumbled slightly. Ha-gyeom quickly reached out to steady her by the elbow. The parrot-like man, observing the interaction, glanced between the two of them and commented dryly.

“One is a rebellious guide from the outside.”

“……”

“And the other is Baek Sa’s unsociable lackey.”

The man’s curt summary struck Ha-gyeom, reminding him of Tae-seong’s earlier words: ‘They wouldn’t bother training a guide who’s completely useless.’

Though it all sounded like they were part of some problematic group, Ha-gyeom couldn’t help but think that the strangest person in the room was the parrot-like man himself. He’d brushed off Tae-seong’s remarks before, so being labeled Baek Sa’s lackey wasn’t enough to faze him.

What did bother him was how Gi Suh-hyun shook off his hand with clear distaste. The thought of the Kang sisters, still unaccounted for, brought a sigh to his lips.

Focusing on Gi Suh-hyun’s trembling frame, Ha-gyeom turned to the man and asked bluntly, “And what does that make you?”

“I’m the one who’s going to whip you two into shape as proper guides.”

“…What?”

“The cleanup crew chief, to be precise.”

The man stepped back with an irritated expression, circling the room slowly before adding, “Rebellion’s pointless. All it’ll do is earn you more remedial lessons.”

He acted like a teacher, though the energy he exuded didn’t feel like it surpassed Ha-gyeom’s own.

‘What is this guy even talking about?’

Though the thought crossed his mind, Ha-gyeom held his tongue and observed silently. The man’s oppressive presence waned with each word he spoke, though his unsettling aura remained. Ha-gyeom wondered if it was solely his looks—a combination of refined features and an overbearing demeanor—or if there was something more beneath the surface. Either way, in District 0, even an ordinary-looking guide could be anything but.

“It’s unfortunate that my first mission after returning is this, but orders are orders,” the man said, walking toward the opposite end of the room.

Ha-gyeom watched him warily as he moved away, only for the man to suddenly raise his voice.

“I hope none of you are amateurs who use your hands before controlling your energy!”

‘Isn’t that how everyone starts out?’

Whether he was being sarcastic or serious, the comment struck a nerve, and Ha-gyeom flinched instinctively.

A glance to his side revealed Gi Suh-hyun looking his way. Taking advantage of the man’s distance, she asked in a hushed voice, “Do you have any news about Hana or Duna?”

The desperation in her gaze was undeniable, and Ha-gyeom felt a sharp pang in his chest. Her eyes were filled with such raw hope that he couldn’t help but respond softly, “Not yet. But I can look into it.”

It was the best he could offer, and though it was a meager reassurance, Gi Suh-hyun exhaled a quiet sigh of relief.

Even after all her resentment, she had asked him about the Kang sisters’ whereabouts. Ha-gyeom didn’t find it strange—he knew all too well that the collection mission’s success had been a tragedy for Gi Suh-hyun and her group. He bore some of the responsibility for that.

Once her unsteady posture seemed to stabilize, Ha-gyeom gently let go of her arm. She immediately stepped away, casting him a sharp glare, but he paid it no mind.

“From now on, no more chit-chat,” the man barked, displeased at the shift in focus. Ha-gyeom quickly withdrew his hand, which had instinctively started to reach out again.

“So, what do we do first?” Ha-gyeom asked, noting the instability of Gi Suh-hyun’s energy and stepping forward to take the lead.

The man responded with a displeased smile and said, “A talent show.”