TS 039

As if sensing the weight of his gaze, Han Suryeon turned, his right eye crinkling into a smile that erased any trace of his earlier frown. 

Yoon Taehwa’s eyes darted around the room, his gaze settling first on Pavel, then on Shin Ae-hi. 

Was it Han Suryeon? He’d flown all the way to Korea to avenge his Guild member. It wasn’t strange for him to be fixated on the man, to harbor… animosity. But something about that fleeting look, the intensity of it… It had felt like something more than simple hostility.

‘Strange…’

Years of fieldwork had honed his instincts, making him acutely aware of even the subtlest shifts in energy, the faintest hint of malice. It was an Esper thing, that heightened sensitivity to intent, a survival instinct born from countless encounters with dangerous demihumans and volatile Espers. 

But Han Suryeon’s reaction was different. He was hiding something, that much was clear, but Yoon Taehwa couldn’t quite decipher what it was. 

“Huu…” 

Just as he was about to probe further, Shin Ae-hi, letting out a long sigh, straightened up. Her forehead was slick with sweat. 

“He’s putting up quite a fight.” 

She walked towards a sink tucked away in a corner of the room, washing her hands, the sound of running water a stark contrast to the heavy silence that had settled over the room. 

Yoon Taehwa waited patiently, watching as she dried her face with a towel before tossing it onto a nearby chair. She gestured towards the door. 

“Let’s talk in my office.”

Her expression was… unreadable.

*** 

“Unfortunately, I didn’t see his face.” 

“You weren’t expecting to, were you, Director?”

Yoon Taehwa replied curtly, shifting in his chair. Han Suryeon, who had taken a seat beside him instead of across the desk, was a familiar presence now, his proximity no longer unsettling. 

“Where did you start?” 

“From the moment he entered Korea. Which is why it took so long.” 

Even with the aid of a crystal, delving into someone’s mind, sifting through their memories, was a demanding task, requiring a significant amount of energy. Shin Ae-hi, her hand flexing repeatedly, took a deep breath. 

“He’d already met with Monomorium. I don’t know why the negotiations fell apart, though.”

“Negotiations?” 

“They made demands… Pavel refused. He seemed to have anticipated this. The problem is… he didn’t use specific terms. I couldn’t get a clear picture of the context. I can’t scan his entire memory, not with the limited time I had.” 

Yoon Taehwa glanced at Han Suryeon, who shrugged, his expression a mask of innocence, as if he knew nothing. 

“What about his voice?”

“Male. Young, I’d say. Mid-thirties at most.”

“A young man… He rose through the ranks quickly.”

Ants was an old organization. And in organizations steeped in tradition, seniority often equated to power, experience a valuable asset that came with time. 

“Either he’s an S-rank Esper, or a Shooter.”

Yoon Taehwa leaned towards the latter. Shooters, while physically ordinary, possessed a significant advantage: immunity to rampages. Their abilities, unrestrained, could be utilized to their full potential, allowing for a rapid ascent within the ranks. 

“What about his mannerisms?” 

“Sounded Korean… But it’s hard to tell based solely on speech patterns.”

Han Suryeon, despite his slow, deliberate cadence, spoke Korean fluently. 

“He’s definitely based in Seoul. There was a reference to… proximity. Being close to the Center.” 

“So the conversation was brief.”

“It would have been longer if Pavel had agreed to their demands… But the negotiations fell apart. He fled.” 

Shin Ae-hi ran a hand through her hair, frowning. 

“I used a crystal, and yet… the intel is minimal.”

“You anticipated that, didn’t you, Director?”

“It’s human nature to hope, Taehwa. Even when you’re expecting the worst.” 

If Pavel had been conscious, they would have extracted far more information. Even a skilled telepath like Pavel, adept at concealing his thoughts, would have been no match for Shin Ae-hi. But a comatose patient… that presented a unique set of challenges. 

‘If we force him awake…’ 

Could they jolt him out of his coma? He dismissed the thought. If physical methods were effective, Shin Ae-hi would have mentioned it. 

“When will you make this public?” 

“We need to inform the Blue House first. Confirming Monomorium’s presence in Seoul… this is beyond the Center’s jurisdiction.” 

They needed official authorization before they could proceed. 

“It was my last one too… Such a waste.” 

Shin Ae-hi set the crystal down on the table, its once-clear surface now cloudy, opaque. 

“What grade was it?”

Han Suryeon, breaking his silence, picked up the crystal, examining it closely. He held it between his thumb and forefinger, closing one eye as if assessing its value. Yoon Taehwa found himself thinking that the crystal’s cloudy surface resembled Han Suryeon’s eye, hidden beneath his lowered lid. 

“B-grade. I’d imagine Kasatka has access to higher-grade crystals.”

Her tone, usually formal when addressing Han Suryeon, had become casual. He, unfazed, set the crystal down. 

It rolled across the table, stopping in front of Shin Ae-hi.

“You might be able to use it one more time. Give it a try.”

“Really?” 

Shin Ae-hi’s eyes widened.

“He knows his crystals.” 

Yoon Taehwa, straightening his legs, his thighs brushing momentarily, spoke, his tone laced with a hint of pride. 

Ever since the discovery of dungeons, and the subsequent unearthing of these unique crystals, research had been ongoing. However, their properties remained largely a mystery. 

One of their known attributes was their ability to enhance an Esper’s power, as Shin Ae-hi had demonstrated. But the amplification was finite. Each grade had a limited amount of energy, with higher grades possessing greater potency. 

The crystal’s cloudy appearance signified that its energy had been depleted.

“I’m rather fond of… shiny things.” 

Han Suryeon, blushing slightly, rested his head on Yoon Taehwa’s shoulder, like a large dog seeking attention.

“Don’t you have a research department? With an analyzer? Take it to them.” 

“I will. I heard a B-grade usually has about five uses.”

Yoon Taehwa, ignoring Han Suryeon’s clingy antics, stared at the depleted crystal, finding it… unremarkable.

“But first… a trip to the Blue House.”

Shin Ae-hi stood up. 

“Confirming Monomorium’s presence was our first objective. We’ve achieved that, for now.”

“It’s a good thing Pavel’s alive. He’ll provide valuable intel once he wakes up.”

Yoon Taehwa followed her, instinctively catching Han Suryeon as he stumbled, his body swaying as he tried to disentangle himself from Yoon Taehwa. 

“There’s a reason we’re keeping him in Wing H.”

“You think they might try to… kill him?”

“That explosion the other day…”

Shin Ae-hi patted Yoon Taehwa’s shoulder, her gaze serious. 

“While it’s possible they were targeting you, Pavel was likely a secondary objective.”

“Eliminating loose ends… It’s a logical move.”

“Exactly. He knows things we don’t. And considering we have a mole, they already know he’s in our custody.” 

She picked up her jacket. 

“The Center is… a trap.”

A trap. Yoon Taehwa pondered the word.

“And we need to lure them in. Even if it means using… bait.”

Her eyes glinted with a dangerous light. 

Things were about to get… interesting.

‘As long as we don’t have another terrorist attack…’

The recent A-rank dungeon appearance made it unlikely for another high-grade dungeon to emerge anytime soon. He couldn’t be certain, but he anticipated a period of relative calm. 

He mentally reviewed his schedule, picking up his car keys. He was heading home tonight. 

“Where are you going?”

Han Suryeon, who had somehow followed him back to his office, spotted the keys, his voice laced with curiosity. 

“Home.”

“Home? You’re so cold, Team Leader…” 

Yoon Taehwa, shrugging on his coat, frowned slightly.

“Aren’t you going to… praise me?”

Praise him? His confusion must have been evident, for Han Suryeon pouted. 

“I cooperated. Just like I promised.”

Yoon Taehwa recalled that day, the day Han Suryeon had eaten that apple, the one that had reminded him so much of Han Suryeon himself.

“It took all my willpower not to kill him on the spot.”

And then he remembered that cold, calculating look in Han Suryeon’s eyes as he’d stared down at the unconscious Pavel. 

‘It wasn’t… malice, was it?’

Perhaps he’d been mistaken. Regardless, Han Suryeon’s cooperation had been instrumental in securing their current advantage. They’d managed to confine Pavel to Wing H because of his agreement to keep him alive. 

Agreements between Guilds and governments weren’t easily broken. If Han Suryeon had insisted on eliminating Pavel, they would have been forced to hand him over to Kasatka. 

‘Sometimes, a carrot is more effective than a stick.’

Yoon Taehwa, as he exited his office, asked,

“What kind of praise were you hoping for?”

“Will you indulge me?”

“Depends on your behavior.”

“Have dinner with me.”

“Dinner?”

It wasn’t the absurd request he’d been expecting. It was…simple. 

“Fine. What do you want to eat?”

“Instead of food, can I pick the location?”

“Go ahead.”

“Somewhere… small, dark, and… not too crowded?”

Han Suryeon’s gaze dropped to his lashes, his expression a picture of demure innocence. Yoon Taehwa, recognizing the blatant seduction attempt, smiled, his lips curving upwards in amusement.