However, both Marine and the other orcas remained absent for an unnervingly long time. The once-vibrant music faded into silence, leaving the massive tank feeling desolate and foreboding.
“Wait, why does the water look strange?”
Suddenly, murmurs rippled through the audience as people pointed toward the tank where Marine had vanished. The water, which had been a deep green, shifted to purple, then to a dark crimson hue, growing darker with each passing second.
“Eek!”
Cheers turned to screams in an instant.
“What’s going on?”
I shot to my feet. That was undoubtedly blood. A faint metallic tang in the air confirmed it.
The aquarist, sensing something was wrong, dove into the tank without hesitation. Minutes passed, but she didn’t resurface.
“This looks dangerous,” Han-gyeol said, now standing beside me, his eyes fixed on the tank.
The eerie silence blanketed the venue as everyone held their breath, anxiously waiting for the aquarist to emerge.
“I can’t just stand here. Sa-weol, wait here for a moment, okay?”
“Senior, are you planning to go in? Oh, wait, there she is!”
Just then, the aquarist surfaced, frantically signaling with crossed arms toward the staff. It was clear—she was calling for the show to be stopped.
At that moment, Marine’s lifeless body floated to the surface. The other orcas followed, their mangled fins and bloodied bodies bearing unmistakable bite marks. The same orcas that had leapt gracefully mere moments ago now lay eerily still.
The venue staff, after exchanging hurried gestures, began broadcasting an emergency announcement.
“Attention, visitors of Aqua Planet. Due to unforeseen circumstances, the Marine Show has been temporarily suspended. We ask all guests to follow staff instructions and proceed to the designated exits. We sincerely apologize for the disruption to your experience. Once again, the Marine Show has…”
The announcement repeated, but the chilling sight of Marine’s body and the disarray in the tank kept the crowd frozen in shock. Slowly, murmurs of confusion and fear spread as people reluctantly began to shuffle toward the exits.
* * *
A few hours after the show was suspended, Branch A’s Lima Team arrived at Aqua Planet.
“When the aquarist dove in to investigate, all the orcas were already dead. Blood was found on Marine’s mouth and teeth, so it appears Marine attacked the other orcas and then took its own life,” the team relayed to Han-gyeol and me after gathering details from the staff.
It was a horrifying incident—Marine had suddenly turned on the other orcas in an unprecedented act of violence. Thankfully, there were no human casualties.
“Why would it act like that?” Han-gyeol asked one of the Lima Team members.
“We can’t pinpoint a single cause for such behavior. If we had a psychic or special-class Esper to read its thoughts or track its last moments, we might find some clues. However, since it’s deceased, even that is unlikely to work.”
Strange animal behavior. That phrase sent a cold sweat down my back. I couldn’t help but recall that animals often acted abnormally in the presence of a creature or a Cremon.
While Cremons usually had to release their creature form for animals to notice, I couldn’t shake the memory of Marine’s gaze locking onto me when it leapt earlier.
Then, after diving back into the tank, Marine began its erratic behavior. Could it really be a coincidence?
Even though I knew it didn’t make sense logically, anxiety gnawed at me. Being a Cremon, I couldn’t entirely dismiss the fear that my mere presence might have triggered something.
“Sa-weol, are you okay?”
I looked down to see that my fingers were curled tightly, trembling ever so slightly. It was a habit I had when I tried to hide the sharp nails that appeared during creature transformations.
Han-gyeol watched me with concern.
“You’re shaken. I’ll take you back to the center. I don’t have a good feeling about this.”
His expression showed he wasn’t at ease either. He might have connected this incident to recent attacks on guides by Cremons.
If a Cremon had been at the venue, it would explain the animals’ abnormal behavior, something he undoubtedly knew. But Han-gyeol refrained from mentioning it aloud.
“Captain Han-gyeol, as a witness present at the scene, we’d like to ask you a few questions. Could you stay for a while to provide a statement?”
As we prepared to leave, one of the Lima Team members stopped Han-gyeol. They likely wanted to leverage the heightened observational skills of an S-Class Esper to piece together what had happened.
Additionally, they would likely examine whether he had used his resonance or if it had been unstable, as even an S-Class Esper’s resonance fluctuations could influence events.
Han-gyeol hesitated, his expression unreadable, before fiddling with his smartwatch. A soft beep signaled a notification on mine—an Alpha Team support request.
“I can’t leave my guide alone. I’ll join after an Alpha Team Esper arrives.”
“While the captain assists us, a Lima Team Esper can escort Guide Gu Sa-weol.”
“She’s an Alpha Team S-Class guide and a recent target of a Cremon attack. She’s under special protection, and Alpha Team will handle her security,” Han-gyeol said firmly.
The Lima Team member hesitated, glancing toward their superior in the distance. Seeing no other option, the superior gave a subtle nod, and the member reluctantly agreed.
“…Understood.”
We left the scene shortly after. Although I wanted to insist I could manage on my own, Han-gyeol’s insistence wasn’t entirely unwarranted. As a special protection target, his caution wasn’t over-the-top.
Moreover, the more unusual the incident, the more important it was to stay under the radar.
Han-gyeol led me to a hotel behind Aqua Planet. I was shocked to see he had rented an entire floor, but I complied without complaint.
“An Alpha Team Esper will be here within the hour. I might take a while, so head back to the center with them.”
“Okay. Who’s coming?”
“Yu-geon. He responded to the request right away, even though it’s the weekend.”
Of course it was Yu-geon. While I wasn’t surprised, I couldn’t help but find it a little excessive.
The trip back to the center would take at least an hour. While I wasn’t thrilled about spending that time with someone as blunt as Yu-geon, I supposed it was better than being alone.
“Doesn’t that guy ever take a weekend off?” I muttered, half to myself.
“Sa-weol, did you feel it too?”
“Feel what?”
While I was deep in thought about Yu-geon, Han-gyeol suddenly asked me with a curious expression.
“When Marine jumped earlier, didn’t it seem like its face was turned toward us?”
I stiffened at his words.
“I’m not sure. It all happened so quickly,” I replied, keeping my head slightly lowered to avoid meeting his gaze. I turned my face completely away for good measure.
“Maybe. I’ll need to investigate the spectators seated nearby. If a Cremon was targeting you, it might explain things.”
As expected, his thoughts veered in that direction. I chose not to add anything to the conversation. All I could do was hope that the situation wouldn’t escalate further and pass without incident.
“This trip was supposed to help us relax, but we couldn’t even do that,” Han-gyeol said, his tone tinged with regret.
“It wasn’t so bad. Sure, the ending wasn’t great, but I had fun and got some rest,” I replied, trying to sound upbeat.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“We didn’t even get to have a proper meal, though. I feel like I can’t relax until I get you back to the center safely.”
It was clear he felt disappointed. Originally, we had planned to enjoy the show and then have dinner at a restaurant at the top of the Aqua Tower. That plan had obviously fallen apart.
On top of that, we’d nearly been recognized in the crowd earlier, and the whole trip had been far from smooth. His disappointment was likely amplified by the anticipation he’d had for today.
“But isn’t Yu-geon coming here on a motorcycle? I hate motorcycles,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.
“In that case, want to wait a bit longer and head back with me? I’ll wrap this up as quickly as I can.”
“No, it’s fine. I was just saying that. Take your time with work. I can rent a car if I need to.”
Even as he prepared to leave, Han-gyeol’s reluctance was evident. His smartwatch kept buzzing with messages urging him to report back, but he continued to ignore them.
To my surprise, he even ordered chiffon cake from room service, claiming the desserts here were good. I was halfway through the cake when Yu-geon arrived.
The knock at the door prompted Han-gyeol to answer.
“You’re here?”
“Yeah. Where’s Gu Sa-weol?”
“Inside.”
I heard heavy breathing and firm footsteps approach. Checking the time, I realized Yu-geon had arrived in under 30 minutes, much faster than expected. It sounded as if he’d run up the stairs instead of taking the elevator.
“You’re not hurt, are you?” he asked gruffly.
“No,” I replied nonchalantly.
‘Hurt? From what? It’s not like I was attacked,’ I thought to myself, continuing to eat the cake on the sofa. Normally, I couldn’t even finish a slice of cake, but this one seemed just the right amount of sweet.
Yu-geon’s urgency made me feel a bit awkward, as if his concern was overblown.
“Take Sa-weol back to the center first. I’ll stay and help with the investigation,” Han-gyeol instructed.
“Got it.”
“But Yu-geon.”
“What?”
“What did you come here on?”
Han-gyeol’s question made me think he was checking because of my earlier complaint about motorcycles.
“By car.”
“Whose car?”
Han-gyeol gave him a skeptical look, clearly doubting the response. I, too, found it odd, as I’d never seen Yu-geon drive a car before.
“My car. What’s with the interrogation? Don’t worry, I’ll get her back safely.”
He responded curtly and approached me. Sensing the tension in Yu-geon’s tone, Han-gyeol decided not to press further and instead grabbed his coat.
“Call me when you get to the center. Be cautious; this might have been a Cremon attack.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll have a few slices of cake packed and left at the front desk for you. Pick them up and head straight back—no detours.”
“Got it,” I replied.
Han-gyeol lightly patted my shoulder before leaving. As the door closed, Yu-geon plopped down next to me.
“Is that cake really that good?”
He seemed a bit deflated, likely because I looked so nonchalant about the whole situation. His reaction reminded me of something he’d said once at Emily’s house, so I answered playfully.
“Not as good as you.”
He let out a genuine laugh, the sound easing the lingering tension from the day. Compared to other Espers who often felt distant or stiff, Yu-geon’s company was far more comfortable. For the first time that day, I felt like I could finally breathe.
