“This is a video I took at the aquarium today. Aren’t the penguins adorable? I also got some footage of jellyfish and some tropical fish with really pretty patterns.”
“Yeah… but this one’s acting like it’s starving. It’s cursing out the zookeeper.”
Emily was still sniffling a little, but she seemed much calmer now. Her eyes were red, yet she was watching the video with wide, focused eyes. It was kind of cute.
“I like aquariums too… Next time, go with me.”
“Sure, let’s do that. Have you finished crying now?”
“Yeah… Sa-weol, I’m sorry. I was scared that if you became human, you’d take your own life. And if I chased after the researcher, I might end up facing the culprit too, and that seemed too dangerous… That’s why I did it.”
“It’s okay. I was only thinking about what I wanted.”
She had always reassured me, telling me that things would get better, that we could live like humans again. She smiled every day, and I hadn’t even realized that my own depression might have worried her.
We had the same wounds. We were both Cremon, so I had assumed she was just as numb to death as I was.
But Emily had a core, and I didn’t. Even as Cremons, we were slightly different.
“What do you mean? Don’t tell me you still want to—”
“No. Back then, I was still in the process of accepting that I was Cremon. Thanks to you, I’m a lot more stable now. I never think about that anymore.”
“Thank god. Seriously, Sa-weol, I should’ve just been honest with you from the start. I made you doubt me for nothing. I’m really sorry.”
She asked me the same question multiple times, and only after hearing my answer over and over did her anxiety finally start to fade.
How could I have even briefly suspected that someone who worried about me so transparently was working with the culprit? It felt ridiculous.
“Ask her about the marine show too. Emily’s an animal communicator, isn’t she?”
Yu-geon, who had been silently watching us, finally spoke. His expression had been stiff for a while now. The way he was staring at me so intently made it clear that he had a lot to say.
It was probably because of what I’d said about wanting to die if I became human again.
I had already reassured Emily multiple times, but did he not believe me? He was sharp like that.
At least this time, he wasn’t immediately grilling me about it. If he had, I would’ve been exhausted.
“Marine show? Why? What happened?”
“Well….”
I explained to Emily what had happened at the Aqua Planet marine show, along with the new information I’d learned and the strange occurrences lately. I also mentioned Ian, Song-yi’s pair.
“That’s really weird….”
She fell silent for a moment, lost in thought.
“But could the creatures really recognize a Cremon in the audience from that distance? Even if they jumped up to our level, it was still pretty far away.”
“Animals sense Cremons more through instinct than sight. Even if they seemed to be looking in your direction, they might’ve been reacting to something in a different area.”
That widened the scope of our investigation. Han-gyeol would probably focus on the audience in our section, but the real source might be somewhere else entirely.
“Forget that for now. Ian—what’s up with him? He’s way too suspicious. Are you sure he didn’t have a core?”
“Yeah. I’m certain.”
“If what he said is true, then the culprit is still after you. It’s been a while since the incident, though. If they haven’t made a move yet, I can think of two reasons.”
“What are they?”
I focused on her words. Emily often used her ability to trade information with other Cremons, and because of that, she had a keen sense of insight.
“Either they’re a psychopath who enjoys watching you squirm—”
The moment she said that, Ian came to mind. He always prodded at me with suspicious remarks and never stopped smiling that unsettling smile.
“Or they’re waiting for the right moment.”
“The right moment?”
I frowned.
“The culprit already failed once. They must be carefully analyzing their failure and approaching more cautiously this time.”
Failure. The weight of that word sank into me. The reason they failed to capture me was because I had turned out to be a Cremon.
“So, you’re saying the culprit has been watching me from nearby, trying to figure out whether I’m really a Cremon or not?”
“That’s how I see it. If they were sure about your identity, they would’ve made a move to capture a Cremon Guide by now instead of playing mind games to unsettle you.”
Emily’s words made sense.
During the chase on my way back to the dorm a few days ago, I had felt my life was in danger and ended up releasing my creature transformation.
It was hard to tell if the pursuer had seen it clearly, given how chaotic things had gotten while Yu-geon and I tumbled across the ground. But what if their real goal had been to force me into transformation?
And the marine show incident—it had shaken me. It created an inexplicable fear that maybe, just maybe, I had caused it.
The fortunate thing was that, from a civilian’s perspective, both incidents could simply be seen as moments of panic. However, Awakeners who had worked at the center for years naturally developed a strong tolerance for unexpected situations and crises.
If the culprit had been watching me, my anxious reactions would have only reinforced their suspicion that I was a Cremon.
“You need to be more careful at the center. And from now on, don’t transform into your Cremon form under any circumstances—not even to check for a core. If the culprit still hasn’t made a move, that means they haven’t confirmed that you’re a Cremon yet.”
“Uh… Got it.”
It was at least some relief that the culprit still didn’t know what I was. But while they were slowly tightening the noose around me, all I could do was hide.
In the end, I had more to lose if I was caught than they did. The culprit had been living in the shadows for so long that they likely didn’t even have a proper identity anymore.
We continued our discussion from there.
Emily mentioned that mind-type Espers were extremely rare, even among Cremons. She had heard of them before but had never actually seen one herself.
As for the missing researcher, we couldn’t determine their exact Esper rank, but even if they were a mind-type, she suspected their abilities weren’t particularly strong.
With that in mind, we decided to start by investigating the nearest known mind-type Esper.
That meant heading to the A-Branch Center, where a mind-type Esper was currently stationed.
* * *
Since it was already late at night, Yu-geon was the first to stand up, suggesting we continue the conversation another day. But once we got into the car, he brought up something he hadn’t yet said.
“Tell Ian to stop following you around. If he’s not the culprit, then what the hell is he? A stalker?”
“Yeah, I will.”
The idea that the culprit might be watching me was already unsettling enough, but Ian watching me under the guise of ‘protecting’ me made it even worse.
I wanted to just confront him outright. Or maybe even deal a fatal wound—if he really were a Cremon, he’d transform instantly in response to a lethal injury.
Or was there a way for a Cremon to exist without a core, even if they weren’t a high-ranking Guide?
Speculating endlessly without concrete evidence felt like wandering a never-ending maze. My head pounded from the sheer complexity and frustration of it all.
“Are you really not going to explain things properly?”
“Explain what?”
Yu-geon’s tone was blunt. I pressed my fingers against my temple as I answered.
“What you plan to do if you become human.”
He didn’t even want to say it directly. He spoke around it.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I feigned ignorance. He had already said he wouldn’t interfere with my personal matters, so he probably wouldn’t press me too directly. As expected, he only let out heavy sighs instead of outright demanding answers.
“I know I shouldn’t be meddling in your life, but….”
“Then don’t. Just drop it. My head feels like it’s about to explode already.”
“If I suddenly told you I wanted to die, wouldn’t you be curious?”
“I wouldn’t.”
I had expected him to bring up this topic on our way back to the center.
“Just tell me—do you really not think about it anymore? Do you still have those thoughts?”
“I told you, I don’t.”
“Then why did you change your mind?”
Why was he being so persistent?
“What else? I realized life is precious. I’m young—why would I throw it away?”
“Then why were you asking Ian so many questions about cores?”
“…….”
I was about to deflect when my words caught in my throat.
I had already told Yu-geon everything I had deduced from what Ian said—that if a Cremon drinks an Esper’s blood, they might develop a core.
The core was the weak point of a Cremon, the part most closely linked to death. Any normal Cremon would have been glad not to have one—it meant they were further from dying.
But instead, I was trying to find one.
At first, Yu-geon probably thought I was just curious because of my unique condition.
“You’re not… planning to break it yourself, are you? Is that why you drink my blood? You’re trying to find your core again—so you can die?”
Now that he knew why I wanted to become human, he had completely pieced together why I wanted a core.
“Tell me. Were you drinking my blood so you could die?”
I didn’t answer. Yu-geon suddenly swerved to the side and slammed on the brakes. The tires screeched against the asphalt, the sound slicing through the quiet night.
The headlights of an approaching car from the opposite lane flashed past his face, briefly illuminating the burning intensity in his gaze.
He looked like he would explode the moment I admitted it.
“There’s no guarantee that drinking your blood would even create a core.”
“…Ha. So you were thinking about it.”
He let out a breathless scoff, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“I did, for a moment. But yesterday was different—I drank it because I had no choice. If I hadn’t, I would’ve fully transformed into a creature by today.”
That part was true.
And if it were really that easy to grow a core, I would have already developed one, even a small fragment.
I had been checking every day, opening my creature form just to see if anything had changed. But there was still nothing.
“If you really—if you really developed a core and then just died… then what the hell am I supposed to do?”
“What do you mean? It’s not like you killed me. I made that choice—”
“But I would have been the one who made it possible! That means I would have been the one to….”
He couldn’t even finish his sentence. He bit down hard on his lip, his breath ragged and uneven, like he was struggling to suppress his anger.
After a long pause, he finally asked, his voice quieter now but no less intense.
“…Did you check this morning? Do you have a core yet?”
