The timing seemed perfect—today’s weather was exceptionally clear. The cloudless sky was enough to lift anyone’s spirits. The soothing sound of music and the warmth of a coffee cup added to the serene atmosphere.
It felt almost surreal that a large-scale gate had appeared not long ago, given the peacefulness around us.
“An Esper from the Delta Team was guided in one of our team capsules, and Hee-woon went into that capsule. But they kicked him out because a low-ranking guide was there,” someone explained.
“So, did you say you didn’t want to guide low-ranking Espers either?”
As we moved toward the sea, we naturally started discussing the issues at the gate and the center. For both of us, work took up a significant part of our lives, so it wasn’t an unusual topic.
“Not really. It wasn’t because I genuinely thought that way… It just seemed like they were being irritable due to resonance sensitivity, so I ended up snapping back.”
One incident involved an Esper from another team who disrespected one of our team’s guides. Despite being in critical condition, I kicked that Esper out of the Alpha Team’s capsule.
Although I knew it was an urgent situation, I was also heated, so my body acted on its own.
“It doesn’t matter. Just because an Esper has low resonance sensitivity doesn’t mean you have to put up with everything. They’re not animals; Espers can control themselves if they try. Do you remember that Esper’s name?”
I thought Han-gyeol would scold me a little, but instead, he seemed slightly angry. Now that I think about it, he really hated it when someone messed with his team members in his absence.
“Kang Do-woon. They said he’s a B-Class Esper from the Delta Team.”
I immediately reported the name I remembered, as if tattling. Recalling the incident, I added irritably.
“Yang Hee-woon kept saying he felt like he was a burden to the team… It was so frustrating!”
Hee-woon was a D-Class guide, lower in rank, but he excelled in managing Espers’ health. When Han-gyeol was recruiting guides for the Alpha Team, he’d often asked my opinion. I specifically pointed out Hee-woon, asking him to bring him on board.
Sure enough, once he joined the Alpha Team, Hee-woon proved exceptional at identifying and addressing Espers’ ailments. While the Alpha Team typically had high-ranking members with sufficient resonance, they occasionally received middling evaluations regarding satisfaction. I had hoped Hee-woon’s presence would positively influence the team.
Yet, despite his abilities, Hee-woon had an air of low self-esteem that made it feel like he couldn’t fully utilize his skills. Another guide might not have cared, but since I had pushed for his recruitment, I felt more sensitive about his timid demeanor.
“No matter how talented someone is, it’s hard for Awakened individuals to overcome their inferiority complexes about ranking. He’ll improve over time.”
“You’re much more lenient with guides than you are with Espers, senior.”
“Because I know you’ll train them well.”
Guides who had been with the Alpha Team for a long time all had additional duties beyond their primary task of guiding.
In my case, that additional duty was training new recruits. This often put me in awkward situations, especially since I had openly clashed with Song-yi. Despite our strained relationship, we inevitably crossed paths often.
Not only Song-yi but also Ji-soo, Su-a, and Hee-woon had all been trained by me. Since I wasn’t particularly warm or sociable, my demeanor remained stern even while training other guides. Coupled with the center’s strict hierarchical structure, it was possible that the Alpha Team guides found me uncomfortable.
“Was everything okay during the radiation guiding session?” Han-gyeol abruptly shifted the conversation to ask about me after bringing up other guides the whole time.
“Yes.”
“You followed all the safety protocols?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t let your resonance drop below 10%, right?”
Though it wasn’t as catastrophic as an Esper’s rampage, a guide’s body could also suffer if their resonance dropped too low. Symptoms ranged from mild coughing to excruciating pain that felt like their organs were twisting. Since my awakening, my resonance had never fallen below 10%.
“No.”
“Why did Song-yi’s pair come in during the session?”
I answered smoothly but suddenly froze.
‘How does he know Ian came to see me early that morning?’
Aside from security Espers, no one else was allowed to enter during radiation guiding sessions. Han-gyeol, sensing something off, glanced at me sideways.
“Did something happen?”
“There was an urgent matter.”
“What kind of urgent matter?”
“Uh… He said the Echo Team had requested a code analysis. Since he needed to know how long the guiding would take, he came to inform me of the results. My phone was off, so he had to find me.”
“He stayed quite a while, though.”
“The security Esper fell asleep, so he stayed to keep me company.”
I hesitated at first, but soon, lies came out smoothly. I mixed in some details Ian had shared about his work, making it a plausible excuse.
At the time, I’d been furious and had demanded Ian leave, yet that conversation ended up saving me now. If Ian hadn’t come in the first place, I wouldn’t have had to lie.
“Why doesn’t he just mind his own guide instead of poking his nose into everything else?”
Han-gyeol muttered as if talking to himself. Surprised by his uncharacteristic tone, I glanced at him, but he kept his eyes on the road as if nothing had happened.
“Exactly. Why don’t you give him a word or two, senior?”
“Should I?”
“Yes. It’d be great if he stayed far away from me.”
He let out a hearty laugh, as if amused.
‘Does he think I’m joking? I’m serious.’
Even though I’d scanned Ian and confirmed he didn’t have a creature core inside him, my suspicions hadn’t entirely vanished.
Even if he wasn’t a Cremon, he might still be connected to the perpetrator somehow.
“Oh, and I have something to report on Monday.”
“What is it?”
I finally brought up the topic that had been bothering me.
“Baek Yu-geon. I ran into him near the dorm yesterday, and his resonance seemed dangerously low, so I guided him there.”
If Han-gyeol realized Yu-geon’s resonance had stabilized over the weekend despite reaching a dangerous level, he’d find it odd.
I was the only one at the center capable of guiding Yu-geon to that extent. Whether I wanted to hide it or not, Han-gyeol would inevitably find out.
Still, guiding didn’t necessarily require staying in the same space overnight, and the fact that I’d been with Yu-geon until just before meeting Han-gyeol was something I didn’t feel comfortable sharing. So I left that part out.
“I know. I checked yesterday.”
“What?”
“When Yu-geon suddenly left the guiding session, I tracked his location and saw it was near your dorm.”
He already knew everything. Thinking back, it made sense that Han-gyeol, as the Alpha Team captain, would check on an Esper at risk of rampage.
“You did well. I checked his resonance this morning, and it’s stable now. Honestly, I’d prefer it if Yu-geon stopped being so stubborn and got guided by you at least once a week.”
He even recommended I guide Yu-geon regularly. As both the Alpha Team captain and Yu-geon’s brother, it was a reasonable suggestion, yet I couldn’t help feeling uneasy.
“We’re almost there. Let’s stop talking about work now. We came out to relax, but we’ve been discussing work too much.”
“Okay.”
He gestured for me to look out the window. The vast sea stretched out before us.
The sunlight sparkled beautifully on the waves, creating shimmering fragments of light. When I rolled the window down slightly, a refreshing, salty breeze blew against my face.
‘But doesn’t talking about Baek Yu-geon count as work, too?’
Something about it felt strange, but I chose not to dwell on it. As he’d said, today was a day for rest, so I decided to put aside any complicated thoughts.
* * *
Inside a space completely sealed off from light, a small circular water tank emitted a faint glow. Tiny jellyfish, no larger than half a fingertip, swirled in synchronized circles.
Their translucent bodies reflected their innermost parts, much like the way my own body would appear when I unleashed my creature form. The simple, repetitive motion of contracting upward and then expanding outward had an almost hypnotic pull, drawing focus entirely to their movements.
‘Maybe this is why people like watching things like a campfire….’
I felt a profound calm settle over me. It wasn’t a negative feeling. It was peaceful and soothing, like my mind was gently floating on the surface of the water.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
Han-gyeol, standing beside me and gazing at the same tank, spoke up. Even the ambient music filling the space had a mysterious, otherworldly quality, as though evoking the vastness of the universe.
We stood there, silently admiring the tank for a while before stepping out into the darkened hall.
“There’s about 30 minutes left. What do you think? Want to keep exploring?”
We’d been walking along the sandy shore earlier and had come to watch a rare underwater orca show held annually at Aqua Planet.
Since he’d happened upon free tickets, we decided to pass the time before the show by touring the nearby aquarium to admire the marine life.
“Yes. It looks like there’s a basement level here. Should we go see the penguins?”
“You still love animals, huh? I thought you’d grown distant since you don’t get as close to them anymore.”
It was true. After becoming a Cremon, I’d naturally started keeping my distance from animals and smaller, non-verbal creatures.
When I released my creature form, animals occasionally growled or even started exhibiting odd behaviors, like slamming their heads into the ground as if to harm themselves.
Given that a creature’s purpose was destruction, it was likely their instincts could sense danger.
I’d once asked Emily, who could communicate with animals, and she confirmed that they were genuinely afraid of Cremons.
Although such reactions only occurred when my creature form was active, I couldn’t help but feel uneasy. As a result, I always maintained at least a three-step distance from animals.
“I do like them. They’re adorable. It feels refreshing to see them after such a long time.”
“That’s a relief.”
Han-gyeol smiled warmly, his expression lightening as if reassured.
Since today was one of the rare days featuring a major event, the aquarium was bustling with people.
Both of us, being S-Class Awakened, were fairly recognizable, so we’d taken care to wear hats and masks, moving discreetly. Still, we couldn’t completely suppress our excitement.
When we reached the penguins—a part of the exhibit I’d particularly been looking forward to—I couldn’t help but step closer, inch by inch. If a section felt dull, we’d quickly move on to the next tank to see more fascinating displays.
Before I knew it, Han-gyeol was no longer by my side.
