IDSEGI Chapter 75

Chapter 75

“Kieeehk!”

As the one-eyed being thrashed, Yeoul rolled across the ground, slipping free from Yoon Geon’s hold. In one burst of motion, he lunged forward and drove the knife deep into its pupil. Even as the creature let out a hideous scream and whipped itself violently from side to side, dragging him along, Yeoul refused to let go of the blade. The one-eyed being split open, blood erupting like an active volcano.

“Dammit!”

With a metallic rasp in its voice, the one-eyed being cursed. Its form shrank into a black speck before vanishing completely.

The moment it disappeared, the cave began to shake far more violently than before, collapsing all around them. Boulders crashed down as Yoon Geon gathered the last of his strength, casting a sturdy wall of water above Yeoul and Ihan.

Yeoul ran to Ihan, supporting him.

“Ihan, can you move?”

“I’m fine.”

One hand pressed to his abdomen, Ihan reached out to gently brush Yeoul’s hair. Blood dripped steadily, but he showed no sign of pain. Stalactites fell in clusters, the ceiling starting to cave in. Yoon Geon pushed himself to his feet and shouted,

“We have to get out, now!”

“But the one-eyed isn’t dead yet! Normally, the darkness should have swallowed us, and time should’ve rewound already!”

“Retreat comes first. We can’t just get crushed to death here.”

Yeoul bit his lip. He knew Yoon Geon was right. If the cave collapsed completely, they’d lose their chance to go back, but it was still better than all of them dying here. He gave a sharp nod.

“Got it.”

Yeoul moved to support Ihan, but Ihan used a stalactite like a cane, steadying himself.

“I’m fine.”

Denied the chance to help, Yeoul hesitated before ducking under Yoon Geon’s arm, taking on the weight of his injured body.

“Hyung, lean on me. We have to move, now.”

But Yoon Geon, with a weak shove, pushed him away, staggering before standing upright.

“Just focus on yourself. Get out as fast as you can.”

Even wounded, both Yoon Geon and Ihan could still move at least as well as an ordinary person—their Esper bodies allowed it. Yeoul stayed close, glancing at them as they ran together.

Boom. The cave roared as it began to collapse in earnest. The ceiling caved in, sealing the path behind them with earth and stone. They sprinted toward the exit with all they had, the falling debris gaining on them fast. The light ahead was still far away. No matter how hard they ran, the collapse kept closing in. By the time the rubble nearly reached their heels, Yu Shin and other Espers arrived.

“Senior Yoon Geon!”

“Yoo Ihan! Are you alright?”

Han Hyunho moved to support Yoon Geon while Yu Shin rushed to Ihan, slinging him onto his back. They had made it just in time. Another Esper scooped Yeoul into their arms and bolted toward the exit. The opening was just meters away.

But at the last second, Ihan shoved Yu Shin aside. Yu Shin tumbled to the ground, looking up sharply at him.

“Yoo Ihan, what the—? Ihan!”

“Guhhk…”

When Yu Shin’s eyes lifted, a spear of shadow was buried deep in Ihan’s heart. Yu Shin scrambled toward him, but Ihan coughed up a mouthful of blood and murmured to him,

“Yeoul…”

Staggering, he never finished the sentence before collapsing completely.

From the wall, a single round eye flared open. The one-eyed being smirked.

“With fifty percent odds, I won.”

“Ihan! No!”

Yeoul screamed, trying to run to him, but Yu Shin gritted his teeth, grabbed Yeoul’s arm, and teleported them both.

The sound of the one-eyed’s laughter filled the air as the cave came down in an instant.

Outside, Yeoul shoved Yu Shin away and began clawing at the rubble. Stone after heavy stone tore his hands open, blood running freely, but he didn’t stop.

“Ihan, answer me! Ihan!”

He cried his name again and again. Please answer me. Tell me you’re still alive.

Espers stationed outside the gate joined him, hauling away the debris. At last, Ihan’s body emerged.

“Ihan…”

Yeoul crawled to him on hands and knees, pulling him into his arms. Lying there with his heart pierced through, Ihan’s entire body was stiff. The bloodless skin was ice-cold. All around them, Espers averted their eyes.

“Hhhuuh…”

“Yoo Ihan, you stupid bastard…”

No one could look directly at his body without their eyes filling with tears. Yu Shin hung his head, his hands trembling.

Yeoul pressed his lips to Ihan’s cold, blue ones, forcing air into him. But no matter how many times he breathed for him, Ihan’s chest did not rise.

For over an hour, Yeoul continued without rest, until Yoon Geon came to rest a hand on his shoulder.

“…Han Yeoul, that’s enough.”

“No. He’s not dead. He’s not dead!”

Yeoul clutched Ihan in his arms and screamed, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

Huff, huff. His chest tightened as if he were buried beneath a mound of dirt.

But even in that suffocating weight, his eyes saw only Ihan.

“Ihan… no, right? No. You… you can’t just die like this. Not like this. Ihan, please… open your eyes. Open them!”

But Ihan never opened them again.

Yoo Ihan’s third life came to an end.

* * *
(Deceased) Yoo Ihan

Yeoul stared blankly at the nameplate bearing Ihan’s name. Soft sobs from all around brushed against his ears, but his eardrums felt numb, the sounds muffled and distant.

He wasn’t even sure how he’d managed to put on the black suit.
How many funerals was this now?

“The third… huh.”

He had buried Ihan three times.

With the cave collapsed, there was no way to ever see the one-eyed being again. Every chance to save Ihan was gone.

The Center Director strode up to the dazed, empty-eyed Yeoul—and without warning, struck him across the face. His head snapped to the left, his cheek flushing hot, but his mind remained foggy. Espers rushed to hold the man back.

“Sir, please don’t—!”

The Director’s bloodshot eyes glared at Yeoul with murderous force.

“It should’ve been you… You should’ve been the one to die.”

Yeoul let out a faint smile, lifting his gaze. Tears streamed freely down his cheeks.

“You’re right. I should’ve died instead.”

If he had died… if he hadn’t clung to the absurd hope of going back and just accepted death cleanly— Then you would have lived.

The Director said nothing more and turned away.

For three days, countless people came and went from the funeral hall. Yeoul neither ate nor slept, sitting in silence the entire time.

“Han Yeoul, that’s enough. You need to rest now.”

Yoon Geon came to comfort him, but Yeoul made no reply. His voice refused to leave his throat, as if struck by muteness. Time felt frozen—in the moment he had pulled Ihan’s body from the rubble.

Three days later, a small urn of ashes rested in Yeoul’s arms.

Yoon Geon escorted him home, unwilling to leave him alone for fear of what thoughts might come.

The moment they stepped inside, Yeoul lay down on the living room floor. Hugging the urn tightly to his chest, he whispered,

“Ihan, I’m home.”

The words came out small.

“I’m home.”

Tears rolled down his cheeks, dripping onto the floor. The grief pooled endlessly beneath him.

“But… you’re not here, Ihan.”

Ihan was dead. Ihan had died because of him—again.

The small whisper crumbled into a sob, trembling as it left his lips.

“A house without you… isn’t a home.”

The words fell to the floor like stones.

“And without you… I have no reason to live.”

Yeoul cried quietly. Quietly, so quietly. His heart hurt too much even for screams—his mouth only opened and closed in silence.

The only sound to escape was Ihan’s name, over and over. Ihan… Ihan…

I should have died in your place.

I should have died. My stubborn will to live dragged you into death.

I should have died with you—let the earth bury us both.

If I could’ve died in your arms, that would have been the best day of my life.

From now on, every day would be drenched in grief, filled only with pain. He already knew it—he’d lived it twice before. And now… it would be the third time.

Yoon Geon wrapped his arms around Yeoul’s small frame. But even beneath that warm weight, Yeoul felt nothing. In a life without Ihan, warmth simply didn’t exist. It had been the same the first two times. And it would be the same from now on.

So it’s fine if I die, isn’t it? It’s fine to follow you, right?

Yoon Geon had heard every one of Yeoul’s murmured words. After long hesitation, he pressed a letter into Yeoul’s hand.

“Yoo Ihan… left this for you.”

Ihan had given it to him with instructions—if anything ever happened, to give it to Yeoul. Yoon Geon had hoped he’d never have to, and hated himself for having to now.

Yeoul, still hollow-eyed, slowly unfolded the letter.

Yeoul. I hope you’ll never have to read this. But if that day comes, promise me one thing.

Live. Even if it’s painful, live. I won’t ask you to live for my share. Just live out your own years. No more, no less.

If you love me, grant me this. If you hate me, then live as long as your hatred lasts.

If you die too, then I’m too pitiful. Carry the guilt. Live because of it. Even if you’re unhappy—especially if you’re unhappy.

Please… live.

A hollow smile curved Yeoul’s lips. He hugged the letter to the urn.
While you wrote these words on this paper, what were you thinking?

You, who always wanted to make me happy—how much must it have hurt to tell me to live even if I was unhappy?

I… I’m not as strong as you think, Ihan. I can’t promise to bear this pain and this unhappiness and keep going.

I want to die. More than thinking I should die—I want to.

Should I honor your last wish? Do I have to?

Can’t I just die with you? Why won’t you let me? Why?

“I love you, Ihan.”

I love you. I’m sorry I love you. I love you.

Yeoul, who had loved Ihan enough to die for him, now had to love him enough to live for him.

There would be no more chances—so he had no choice.
That truth sank into his bones, leaving his whole body cold.

He truly… truly wanted to die.

But.

He had to live. This time, he really had to keep his promise.
If he died now, it would be too easy a release. Even a lifetime of misery wouldn’t be enough to repay Ihan.

So Yeoul decided to live.

Even if time itself had stopped in death, he would keep breathing.

After Ihan’s third death, Yeoul finally made up his mind to survive—

Even though it was unbearably painful, agonizing, and torturous—
Yeoul chose to live.