91

“Who puts on a six-hour performance of antics…?”

Ha-gyeom muttered to himself, staring down at his trembling hands as he sat on the locker room bench. As expected, the Parrot was a ruthless monster. Forget three hours—he’d been tormented for six straight hours without a single break, leaving him thoroughly drained of energy.

Though it hadn’t been long since he recovered from internal injuries and his condition was still somewhat unstable, the results of the training were far better than he’d anticipated. It was likely thanks to his guiding sessions with Baek Sa and the experience he’d gained maintaining his resonance during the collection mission. Both the magnitude and duration of his resonance were flawless, though Gi Suh-hyun’s piercing gaze had felt particularly intense during the session. Even so, Ha-gyeom glimpsed a hope in this training that he hadn’t seen before.

A hope that, no matter the mission, he could handle it like the S-class Esper he was.

After the training, the Parrot strutted out of the room like he owned the place, and Gi Suh-hyun, nearly reduced to a pulp, was dragged out by the mercenary. Now, the only ones left in the room were him and Tae-seong. The awkwardness hung in the air as they wasted time, neither speaking, until Tae-seong, who had been leaning against the locker and staring at him with an indifferent expression, straightened up at the sound of footsteps approaching from outside.

The identity of the visitor was obvious. Hastily, Ha-gyeom adjusted his clothing and asked, “Do I look okay?”

“What do you mean?” Tae-seong shot back with a deeply annoyed look, prompting Ha-gyeom to scowl and explain.

“Just, do I look fine or not…?”

It wasn’t exactly a reasonable question, and Ha-gyeom half-expected Tae-seong to curse him out for it. But instead, Tae-seong closed his eyes with a resigned expression, as if he were trying to suppress something, then opened them again and answered with a tense jaw.

“…You look fine. Happy now?”

Was there really a need to answer so begrudgingly? Just as Ha-gyeom was mulling over that, the locker room door swung open.

The person who stepped inside was, predictably, Baek Sa.

Ha-gyeom belatedly remembered that Espers had the hearing of a wild animal, but it was too late to undo anything. Embarrassed, he rubbed his flushed cheeks awkwardly as he waited for Baek Sa to approach.

The man who had approached Ha-gyeom without a word motioned with his chin toward Tae-seong. With just that small gesture, Tae-seong nodded and quietly left the locker room. Following his departure, Baek Sa’s gaze swept over Ha-gyeom from head to toe with blatant scrutiny. It was obvious he’d heard Ha-gyeom’s silly question earlier.

“How’s your condition?” Baek Sa asked.

“I used up some energy, but I’m fine,” Ha-gyeom replied.

Baek Sa was still wearing the shirt he’d had on earlier in the day, suggesting he’d just finished his tasks. Unlike before, his sleeves were rolled up, and the fabric had a few creases. Oddly enough, Ha-gyeom found this slightly disheveled look more appealing.

“Have you been waiting long?” Baek Sa’s soft question followed, and Ha-gyeom instinctively scratched his ear and shook his head.

“No.”

The extended training had actually made the timing perfect. Without further comment, Ha-gyeom followed Baek Sa, who led the way. It felt a little strange walking shoulder to shoulder rather than watching Baek Sa’s back as he usually did, but they encountered no one on their way out to breathe the fresh air.

Where are we going? Baek Sa had mentioned letting him get some air, but Ha-gyeom struggled to imagine what that could mean here. Since arriving, he’d been in near-constant isolation and hadn’t had the chance to fully grasp the layout of this fortress-like place.

“Where are we going?” he asked cautiously.

Baek Sa offered a faint smile and answered, “Nowhere strange, so don’t worry.”

As they exited the building, a Humvee similar to the one they had ridden in before awaited them. It was the first time Ha-gyeom had set foot on the dusty, unpaved road since returning. He pointed to the passenger seat and asked again.

“Are we getting in this?”

“Yes, get in.”

It was just an ordinary question, yet Ha-gyeom couldn’t help but feel self-conscious about his awkwardness. Not only was he unfamiliar with such situations, but their relationship had reached a point where almost anything between them seemed plausible, even natural.

Baek Sa had casually said he’d let him get some air, but the calm look in his eyes carried an unfamiliar undertone that made Ha-gyeom uneasy. He doubted Baek Sa would bring him to an unfamiliar place with such simple intentions.

Ha-gyeom climbed into the passenger seat after Baek Sa opened the door for him. As the vehicle rumbled along the bumpy, unpaved road, Ha-gyeom kept glancing around, unable to suppress his curiosity. Each time his eyes met Baek Sa’s, who seemed to be observing him closely, he quickly held his breath as if caught doing something wrong.

The road, if it could even be called that, was so rough that the vehicle couldn’t pick up much speed. After driving for what felt like an eternity through pitch darkness, they finally arrived at a place even darker than where they had started.

Whoosh!

Ha-gyeom heard the sound as Baek Sa, who had already gotten out, approached to open the passenger door. He couldn’t immediately identify it. But as soon as he stepped outside, he realized it was the sound of waves, just like those he’d heard when he was on a ship.

Taking Baek Sa’s hand, Ha-gyeom stepped onto the ground. The breeze had softened, and the sound of waves grew clearer. The vehicle’s headlights illuminated a patch of rugged grass, and beyond it lay a deep blue sea. The sense of isolation was heightened by the realization that they were on the edge of a cliff.

The stars spilling across the sky were breathtakingly beautiful, but the darkness unsettled Ha-gyeom. The proximity of the cliff only added to his anxiety. Grasping Baek Sa’s arm, he shuffled awkwardly until they found a spot to settle nearby.

Ha-gyeom dropped onto the ground with a thud, and only then did the scenery around him start to feel real.

“This place…”

As Ha-gyeom began to speak, Baek Sa placed a hand on his back and answered softly, “You can speak freely here.”

Though they were still technically within the fortress, the cliff at the island’s edge seemed to be beyond the usual surveillance. Like in Baek Sa’s room, they wouldn’t be disturbed here. Yet Ha-gyeom hesitated to voice his inner thoughts, choosing instead to take a quiet breath.

Unlike the winds when he left the Center, the breeze here was gentle. It didn’t sting his cheeks but enveloped him softly. Even the way it brushed through his hair felt pleasant.

It was hard to recall a time when things between him and Baek Sa weren’t tense, weren’t sharp-edged like the wind back at the Center. Summoning a bit of courage, Ha-gyeom moved closer until their shoulders touched. Baek Sa, who had been staring into the distance, turned his gaze toward him.

Thump. Thump.

The pounding of Ha-gyeom’s heart drowned out even the sound of the waves. The sensation in his chest was so overwhelming that he hesitated to speak. Meanwhile, Baek Sa tilted his head slightly, closing the distance between them. Ha-gyeom didn’t notice the proximity of Baek Sa’s breath as he hurriedly opened his mouth.

“Gi Suh-hyun was part of today’s training. She asked about Kang Hana and Kang Duna, but I didn’t know anything, so I thought I’d ask you about that first…”

Their proximity was far too close for conversation, and Ha-gyeom froze, startled. Their noses had almost touched. Ha-gyeom found himself gazing up into Baek Sa’s unusually bright eyes, even in the darkness, but quickly averted his gaze. Baek Sa stepped back smoothly and answered his earlier question.

“They’re sedated with drugs. If they resist once they regain consciousness, they’ll be put back under immediately.”

Ha-gyeom’s eyes widened. While it was true that Espers required some form of control due to their strength, drugging them was a morally questionable solution. Still, he didn’t have the courage to protest. This wasn’t the Center, after all. In this place, the name “0 District” was enough to excuse any unreasonable act.

“You can’t tell Gi Suh-hyun that…” Ha-gyeom trailed off.

Baek Sa’s voice dropped to a low tone as he countered, “There’s no reason not to tell her. That woman isn’t your friend or your ally. Neither are those Esper sisters.”

“So we’re just leaving them like that?”

Though the question wasn’t particularly heated, Baek Sa frowned, his eyes taking on a commanding intensity.

“What do you think the first thing I did when I came here was?”

Ha-gyeom couldn’t answer. Baek Sa, sharp-eyed but with a gentle touch, reached out to stroke Ha-gyeom’s jaw.

“Standing by while corruption and injustice thrive here. Even when it leads to death.”

“…”

Ha-gyeom knew this better than anyone. Baek Sa was a hero who had saved countless lives, including his own.

Words like “corruption,” “injustice,” “apathy,” and “death” were so far removed from the Baek Seung-woo he knew. That was why Ha-gyeom struggled to accept the words Baek Sa spoke so easily now. They were the complete opposite of the justice Baek Seung-woo once embodied.

Was it because he was now Baek Sa that such things were possible?

But there was another question that needed answering first.

“What is your mission?” Ha-gyeom pressed. “What operation did Director Kim Hye-jeong order you to carry out?”

Baek Sa, without hesitation, as if the long wait had never existed, answered, “To become one of them and reach the deepest roots of this rot.”

His unwavering response made Ha-gyeom’s gaze tremble. Even though the answer wasn’t far from what he had guessed, it still felt abstract and hard to grasp. He swallowed dryly as Baek Sa turned his gaze away, focusing on the dark, distant sea.

“Unlike other operations, there weren’t many rules,” Baek Sa continued. “Only one directive…”

An unfamiliar regret flickered briefly in his eyes before he spoke again.

“Do not interfere with their affairs in the name of the greater good.”

“…”

“To gain the trust of their leaders, you can do whatever it takes.”

“…”

“Your goal is to become one of them completely, even if it means losing yourself. No complaints allowed.”

Ha-gyeom’s mind connected those words to someone. To Director Kim Hye-jeong, the one who likely gave this command.

Baek Sa spoke in a tone devoid of emotion, but the words that fell from his lips felt like sharp claws raking across Ha-gyeom’s heart. None of it resembled the Baek Seung-woo he once knew. Five years ago, when he was just twenty-six, such orders would have seemed unbearably cruel to him.

As Ha-gyeom blinked back the overwhelming emotions, he recalled the question Baek Seung-woo had once asked him, a question that resurfaced unbidden.

“What are you so afraid of?”

“…”

“Losing yourself.”

At the time, he hadn’t fully understood what Baek Seung-woo meant. But now, in this moment, it was painfully clear. What was mere indifference to others in this place was a venomous poison to the once-righteous Baek Seung-woo.

Baek Sa had once put a bullet through the forehead of a man, the father of a child named Myeong, without a flicker of hesitation. Yet the Baek Seung-woo who had left Ha-gyeom would never have been capable of such apathy. He had found value in saving lives, and he had been Ha-gyeom’s entire world. Ha-gyeom couldn’t bear to imagine the moments in which that man had been broken under the weight of apathy and countless injustices.

“Even if you lose yourself…” Ha-gyeom’s voice faltered as his face grew pale, the meaning behind Baek Sa’s words sinking in after five long years.

“Even if I abandon my mission and turn traitor,” Baek Sa replied calmly, “what they truly wanted was for me to uncover the identities of the hidden powers entrenched in this place.”

Baek Sa’s gaze, which had been fixed far away, slowly returned to Ha-gyeom. His eyes glistened, and his brows furrowed slightly as though he was in pain.

“…For what purpose?” Ha-gyeom asked softly.

“To completely destroy this fortress of power.”