DP Episode 139

Episode 139

Through the microphone, Hee-min’s tense voice resonated across the room. Seo-joon leaned toward Yeon-woo and whispered, ‘He’s saying the cause matters.’

「Let’s assume dismantling the No-Names closes the gates for now. But what happens when this occurs again? Will you hunt down and eliminate No-Names every time?」

The officials on the screen remained silent, their expressions inscrutable as they folded their arms or tilted their heads, listening intently.

「Will you round up every six-year-old child abandoned on the streets to identify and dispose of No-Names? And what if, next time, it isn’t a child but an elderly person? What if it’s your family, your friends, your lovers? What will you do then?」

Will you keep killing, again and again, just to avoid the gates?

The series of pointed questions brought a heavy silence to the room. Yeon-woo tilted his head toward Seo-joon, who leaned closer to translate succinctly.

“They don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“…That’s it? He said so much more than that!”

「We need to look deeper into the root cause. To trace and understand the origin of the gates—to truly understand why this is happening on our Earth. Only then can we find a proper solution.」

“We need to find a better way,” Seo-joon translated.

“That’s way too short!” Yeon-woo protested.

― Director Kang, your point is noted. So you’re suggesting we continue gate research instead of dismantling No-Names?

―If any country is willing to take that risk, we will fully support them. …But we hope it’s not ours. Refugees from gate-related disasters have overwhelmed us already.

―Director Kang’s suggestion is idealistic at best. Realistically, who will risk their citizens’ lives for gate research?

“What are they saying now?” Yeon-woo asked.

“They’re telling him to stop talking nonsense,” Seo-joon replied bluntly.

“All three of them?”

Seo-joon nodded shortly. Yeon-woo tilted his head but didn’t argue further.

「There might be a way.」

Hee-min’s calm voice cut through the tension. Seo-joon leaned toward Yeon-woo again.

“He says he has an idea.”

“I understood that much.”

「Has any nation here ever transferred a No-Name to another country?」

The question immediately shifted the atmosphere. Disposing of No-Names domestically was one thing, but transferring them internationally was a far more sensitive issue.

「We did. We transported a No-Name to Ohio, USA.」

Seo-joon, who had been idly watching the screens, now lowered his gaze to Hee-min, his expression sharpening.

「For three days. Specifically, three days and eleven hours, our No-Name was outside South Korea. During that time, no new gates appeared, only the already open ones remained active.」

This was true for South Korea, Japan, and China, Hee-min added. A few faces on the screen leaned closer to their monitors.

―Three days? That’s far too short to draw any conclusions.

「That’s why I propose we test it further,」 Hee-min interrupted.

「We need to study the effects of moving No-Names on gate activity.」

“He’s found a promising idea,” Seo-joon murmured, his gaze fixed on Hee-min. The humor in his face had disappeared entirely.

「If my hypothesis is correct, we could continue gate research without sacrificing lives.」

The faces on the screen twisted in various expressions of doubt, unease, and curiosity.

「Moreover, there are immediate measures we can take. For instance, increasing gate detection systems in neglected areas and strengthening pre-evacuation protocols could drastically reduce casualties.」

Humanity always finds solutions, Hee-min believed. They didn’t need to rely on sacrifice. Though the path might be harder, it was the right one.

「Gate mutants undergo constant evolution. NASA recently confirmed that communication devices developed from mutant byproducts faintly operate even beyond the gates. This opens new possibilities.」

Seo-joon knew this faith in humanity’s ingenuity was at the core of Hee-min’s beliefs.

「Through repeated failures, humanity has built a foundation of knowledge, inching forward step by step.」

Hee-min, blinking nervously, concluded in a quieter voice.

「…This concludes my perspective as Kang Hee-min, director of South Korea’s Awakener Research Center.」

“Yeon-woo, your miracle opened up new possibilities for people,” Seo-joon said softly.

“I don’t think he said that…”

Yeon-woo replied, blinking at Seo-joon in confusion.

Seo-joon looked at his lover, who remained oblivious to the magnitude of his actions—the doors he had opened for humanity.

Gently, Seo-joon brushed Yeon-woo’s cheek, his touch lingering. Among everyone gathered here, none could compare to his beloved.

“You’re incredible, Yeon-woo. If nothing else, you should know that.”

Yeon-woo looked down, his lips jutting out in a faint pout.

“…Just words.”

What’s the point of being incredible? You left me while I was asleep.

Seo-joon chuckled softly at Yeon-woo’s sulking. Even if Yeon-woo resented him for this forever, Seo-joon would accept it.

Because for the rest of his life, he belonged entirely to Cha Yeon-woo.

✽✽✽

「Gate Closure D+94」

Seo-joon’s retirement was finally approved. There was no longer any reason for him to remain in the Awakener Special Forces, as he was neither an Esper nor a No-Name anymore.

Similarly, Colonel Jin, who had faced disciplinary action for cursing at Major General Park and leading an unauthorized operation in the field, had long since retired.

Yeon-woo, Seo-joon’s assigned Guide, was a special case, having never officially enrolled in training. Naturally, he retired alongside Seo-joon.

Hee-min argued that Seo-joon and Yeon-woo deserved recognition as national contributors, but the discussion on that matter was still ongoing.

“Uh, uh-oh, I think we’re going to hit something, Lieutenant!”

“A little scratch is fine. It’s Cheong-oh’s car anyway.”

Yeon-woo nervously stared at the side mirror, his lips slightly parted.

Thump, thump.

The car rocked back and forth as he timidly pressed the brake. Seo-joon placed a light hand on Yeon-woo’s shoulder.

“You’re doing great, Yeon-woo,” Seo-joon said gently, checking the rearview mirror.

“Now, move forward. Turn the wheel to adjust.”

Following Seo-joon’s instructions, Yeon-woo turned the steering wheel. The tires screeched slightly against the asphalt as the car moved forward and then came to a stop. Leaning out the driver’s window, Yeon-woo checked the parking lines and adjusted the wheel.

Finally, the car eased back into the parking space, perfectly parallel to the lines.

Clap, clap, clap, clap.

Seo-joon clapped with mock awe, his face lit with exaggerated amazement.

“You’re a genius, Yeon-woo. The best driver in the world!”

Though it had taken four attempts, Seo-joon didn’t care about past failures. The sight of Yeon-woo’s proud, smiling face erased any such concerns.

“Looks like I can just nap in the passenger seat from now on,” Seo-joon teased.

Yeon-woo’s smile grew even brighter.

“One of my dreams is to let you nap while I drive, Lieutenant.”

“What a peculiar dream,” Seo-joon chuckled, brushing a hand over Yeon-woo’s cheek. Yeon-woo caught his hand, lacing their fingers together before returning to the wheel.

“Alright, now try without my help. Pull out and park next to Doctor Kang’s car.”

Getting his license, studying English, traveling with Seo-joon—these were the plans Yeon-woo had meticulously laid out while waiting for him.

Although Seo-joon hadn’t been there for Yeon-woo’s first license exam, he made up for it by practicing parking together. Afterward, Seo-joon took Yeon-woo to a luxury car showroom.

“What do you think about this one? It’s a new model this year,” Seo-joon asked, leaning close as they browsed a catalog together.

Yeon-woo tilted his head, unsure.

“I don’t really know… Everything looks fine to me. Honestly, I can’t tell what’s good or bad.”

“Was there ever a car you wanted?”

Yeon-woo shook his head. Getting a driver’s license had been a long-standing goal, one that always seemed out of reach. Even if he passed on the first try, the cost was nearly a million won—an impossible luxury when hospital bills and rent already left him in debt every month.

He had once dreamed of saving little by little, thinking a license would open more job opportunities. But now, not only did he have a license, but he was also choosing a brand-new car—something he’d never dared to imagine.

“This feels strange.”

Yeon-woo murmured, staring at the catalog.

“It was just about money all along.”

Seo-joon brushed his fingers affectionately through Yeon-woo’s hair.

Getting a driver’s license, covering Jeong-woo’s hospital bills, buying a new car—these were things Yeon-woo had never dared attempt. Yet now, they seemed almost trivial.

“From now on, Yeon-woo, you can have anything you want,” Seo-joon said, his steady gaze meeting Yeon-woo’s.

“You’ll make that possible?” Yeon-woo asked softly.

“You’ll make it possible yourself. You have more than enough ability for that.”

Yeon-woo’s world was expanding—finding a car he liked, picking destinations for travel, learning which brands suited him. There was so much for him to experience, and Seo-joon felt immense joy at being part of that journey.

“This one’s perfect for your first car,” Seo-joon said, pointing to a model in the catalog. “Let’s test drive it. If you don’t like it, we’ll try another.”

Yeon-woo nodded with a quiet smile, and Seo-joon stood, holding his hand as they headed out. After the test drive, Yeon-woo signed the paperwork for his first major purchase.

“Thank you. I’ll work hard and buy you a car someday, Lieutenant,” Yeon-woo said earnestly as they left the showroom.

Seo-joon blinked in mock confusion.

“This is your money, Yeon-woo. Remember what I said? My money is your money.”

By law, No-Name Ji Seo-joon was dead, and his assets had been inherited by Cha Yeon-woo. While the old Yeon-woo might have resisted, this time, he nodded without protest.

“Then let’s use my money for dinner,” Yeon-woo quipped.

Seo-joon laughed, taking Yeon-woo’s hand as they headed to the parking lot.

“Fine, but make it expensive.”

Seated in the car, the two leaned close, searching for a restaurant while debating over the menu. Seo-joon no longer needed guiding sessions to settle his nerves or avoid certain foods.

Winter quietly retreated as sunlight streamed through the windshield of their new car, casting a warm glow.