IDSEGI Chapter 89

Chapter 89

Following Ihan’s orders, the Zone 1 Espers gathered in his home compared the names on the list with the thirty thousand people captured on CCTV—one by one. The task was to find a single man Ihan had described.

Easier said than done—it was grueling work. Most people were wearing caps pulled low over their faces, making it hard to tell who was who. To make matters worse, nearly everyone wore the same white T-shirt with the small word PLAY! printed near the left chest. It would have helped if their clothing were different, but from the CCTV footage, it was nearly impossible to tell them apart.

And Ihan’s description of the man they were supposed to find was as follows:

“A plain white T-shirt, blue jeans, black sneakers, and a pink cap. I didn’t see the face, but he’s a thin guy.”

What kind of identifying features were those? And he still expected them to find the guy? Most fans were wearing white shirts—how could anyone tell if it was plain or merch? Why couldn’t he have worn yellow, or at least gray? And jeans—of all things. If it had been bright red shorts, they’d have spotted him in no time, but jeans were too common.

In the end, the only way to find the man was to focus on his shoes—plain black sneakers. Even that felt hopeless.

As they cursed the unknown man in their heads, one Esper pointed at the laptop screen and asked the colleague beside him,

“Isn’t this him? Blue jeans, black sneakers.”

“No. He said the guy was thin. This one’s too built.”

Another Esper slammed his laptop shut in frustration.

“Can we even find him like this?”

“We have to. Yushin! Did you get any dashcam or nearby CCTV footage?”

Yushin handed over a USB.

“Here. Ihan got it.”

“Without a warrant? That bastard’s good at it.”

“That’s why image management is important. He’s a bastard in private, but in public he’s a gentleman and hero.”

Everyone silently agreed. Ihan, as long as he kept his mouth shut, did look good. And they all knew that in front of the media, he stayed quiet and acted reserved.

“He seems like the type who’d act all coy in front of a lover—way more than he does now.”

Most shook their heads at that comment.

“No way. Any more than now would be impossible. Even hearing him use polite speech feels weird.”

“Yeah, I’m shocked every time I see him just quietly smiling.”

But the Esper who’d spoken stuck to his point.

“No, seriously. Right now he’s just pretending to be quiet and proper. With his lover, he’d wag his tail like a retriever, acting like he’s completely harmless.”

The others shuddered in disgust.

“At that point he deserves a Grammy.”

“You mean an Oscar, idiot.”

“Whatever. He’s not even an actor—no way he’d go that far. Even seeing him wear a mask now is surprising.”

“If Yoo Ihan started speaking sweetly and acting cute, I’d get goosebumps.”

“I’d be off to puke.”

Listening from the side, Yushin waved them off with a laugh.

“Relax. There’s no way he could be worse than now. The fake nice guy act he does already gives me chills—I can’t even imagine him being cutesy and pretending to be kind.”

They all nodded—until an Esper suddenly jumped up holding his laptop.

“Found him!”

“What?”

“This guy! It’s him, right?”

The others crowded around the excited Esper, whose eyes were red from staring at the screen too long.

“You found him? Where? Who is it?”

“Central Park! This guy here, right?”

Hearing the commotion, Ihan came out of his study, pushed through the group, and peered at the laptop screen. A broad smile spread across his lips.

“Found him. That’s the guy.”

The Esper who’d actually found him felt a surge of frustration. That was his discovery—not Ihan’s. But he didn’t dare say it out loud.

Ihan patted his shoulder.

“I’ll give you three days off training.”

“R-really? Yes!”

“Man, lucky…”

The others looked at him enviously. Then another teammate pointed at the screen.

“Wait. Looks like he teleported with another man?”

Teleportation? Just when they thought they’d found him, a new problem popped up. If he teleported, they couldn’t track his movements.

Ihan tapped the screen with a sharp gaze.

“Judging by the cap, this guy was at the concert too. Filter the list for spatial-type Espers. If we find him, we’ll find the man’s identity.”

The others looked visibly tired. They’d thought the task was over, but now they had to do it all over again.

Seeing this, Ihan smiled.

“Whoever finds him first gets two days off training.”

Eyes lit up immediately.

“I’m on it! Where’s the list?”

“Get lost, rookies! The list is mine!”

“Rank doesn’t matter in Zone 1, idiot!”

The living room descended into chaos.

* * *

Back in Zone 5, Yeoul returned to the home he’d once shared with Yoon Geon. Sitting on the sofa, he stared blankly at his palms, then brought them to his face to breathe in the warmth from Ihan still lingering there.

“The imprint not breaking… it’s fine.”

If Ihan didn’t remember him, he could just die. In fact, this might be a chance—maybe he’d finally been given the opportunity to die that had always eluded him.

“That’s all it takes.”

No hesitation. The sooner he disappeared from the world, the better. Then Ihan could get guiding from another Guide.

His match rate hadn’t seemed to drop yet, but it could at any time. Now was the perfect moment—when he was a complete stranger to Ihan.

Deciding to die was easy. He’d seen hope glimmer and vanish like a mirage too many times. Once again, he felt foolish for believing.

“Let’s… guide Geon one last time.”

It would be about five months before Yeon-oh appeared in front of Yoon Geon. After Yeoul died, Geon would have to endure painful guiding from another Guide for those months. But he couldn’t risk hesitating again and missing the moment. He’d guide Geon one last time, then quietly go to the sea and die. His mind was set.

A couple of hours later, Yoon Geon returned home with a cake in his hands. He touched Yeoul’s forehead and asked,

“How’s your body feeling?”

Yeoul stared at the cake box for a moment, swallowing back his tears before breaking into a bright smile.

“I’m fine. You bought a cake. I’ll enjoy it.”

“If it’s hard to digest, you can eat it later.”

“No, I can eat it now. Please give it to me.”

Yeoul took the box, smiling innocently as he said he was happy. Watching him, Yoon Geon’s gaze darkened slightly as he carefully took Yeoul’s wrist.

“Is something wrong?”

“No. Nothing’s wrong.”

Yeoul answered with a smile. Yoon Geon held his gaze for a moment, then nodded.

“Alright.”

As always, Yoon Geon didn’t ask any further. He never forced Yeoul to say things he didn’t want to. Yeoul was grateful for that—and it was the biggest difference between him and Ihan.

If it were Ihan, he would have pressed and pressed, asking questions, following him around until he found out the reason.

He had once said, “I hate it more than death to see you sad, Yeoul. No matter what it takes, I’ll make you happy.”

That was the kind of person his Ihan had been.

Hiding the bitterness in his chest, Yeoul took Yoon Geon’s hand.

“Hyung, I’ll guide you.”

Before Yoon Geon could respond, Yeoul began sending his guiding energy. His plan had been to keep it brief—short enough to hide the fact that their guiding efficiency had increased. But as he sent the energy, Yeoul suddenly paused, looking at Yoon Geon, before trying again.

Not even five minutes passed before Yoon Geon caught Yeoul’s wrist with his free hand.

“Han Yeoul, are you sure you’re not sick? The guiding efficiency…”

“It’s dropped, hasn’t it?”

Yeoul sent guiding energy again. It felt the same as before—the efficiency between him and Yoon Geon had dropped. In his third life, it had definitely risen, but now… something had changed.

His hands trembled. Yeoul looked down at them and murmured,

“Maybe…”

Maybe the imprint and the drop in match rate weren’t connected after all.