As anxiety and worry crept in, my expression darkened. Suddenly, Yu-geon grabbed my arm and pulled us a little farther from Han-gyeol.
Then he leaned close to my ear and whispered softly.
“It’ll be hard to keep our stories straight, so let’s have only one person answer.”
It was a good idea. There wasn’t time to coordinate our answers. If we answered clumsily and got our stories crossed, it would only raise suspicion.
“Yeah.”
“Want me to do it?”
“No, I’ll answer.”
Having decided that I’d take the lead, we followed behind Han-gyeol again. The meeting rooms at the center had glass walls, so we could see inside. One of the large conference rooms was packed with people.
It looked like Han-gyeol had been heading there originally, but he gestured for them to wait and turned into the smaller meeting room next door.
Yu-geon and I sat side by side across from him, waiting for him to speak.
“What’ve you two been up to lately?”
Han-gyeol got straight to the point, skipping any preamble. It wasn’t all that surprising—it felt like the inevitable had just arrived.
No matter how secretive we tried to be, Han-gyeol was bound to find out eventually.
I didn’t know how he managed it, but ever since the past, he’d had an uncanny ability to know exactly what every Alpha Team awakened one was doing, down to the smallest detail.
“As I said before, Esper Baek Yu-geon is assigned to my protection detail, so we’re together for that. As for me, I’m focused on training new recruits and guiding.”
“Not that.”
Han-gyeol gave a soft smile.
“You know I don’t mean that.”
He was smiling, but it was unsettling. I had the feeling he could flip on a dime if I gave him a half-baked answer.
“Why did you keep it from us, Captain?”
But I had something to say too. I dropped the polite mask and called him out on something that had been bothering me.
“Keep what from you?”
Han-gyeol played dumb, acting like he had no idea. If I pressed further, I’d have to admit what I’d been doing. He was probably pretending for my sake.
“You met with Esper Ji Guk-hyeon about the Guide assault cases.”
There was no way to weasel out now that this topic had come up. If I didn’t speak up, I’d just get lectured and sent on my way. Besides, I was curious how much he’d figured out.
“You weren’t assigned to that case, Sa-weol, so I wasn’t obligated to share it.”
“Except Baek Yu-geon didn’t know either.”
Han-gyeol glanced at Yu-geon, who kept his mouth shut just as we’d agreed, even though his name had come up.
“There’s someone interfering with this case, besides me. That’s why I acted on my own.”
“If you were going to do it in secret, it shouldn’t matter that we looked into it too. So, what did you find out?”
“It does matter. I get that you want to catch the culprit as a victim, but you’re a Guide. The attacker is a mental-type Cremon. What if you run into them and get attacked again?”
“That’s why I’m with Baek Yu-geon—”
“I assigned Yu-geon to protect you, not to chase down the culprit with you. I’m telling you to back off from this case.”
Han-gyeol’s face hardened. He cut me off like he’d heard enough. So he did know the attacker was a mental-type.
But how far along was the investigation? Had he found any leads? His cold demeanor made it clear he wouldn’t be sharing any of that with me.
What really frustrated me was that, as a Guide, I was expected to just stand by and watch, even though I was the victim. For a typical Guide with normal human abilities, Han-gyeol was absolutely right.
But I wasn’t a typical Guide. I was a Cremon. I had my own strengths and reasons for getting involved. Han-gyeol didn’t know that, but still—it stung.
“Things have been weird lately. I’m feeling uneasy.”
I couldn’t tell him I was a Cremon, so logical reasoning wouldn’t work here. I had to show how anxious I felt, to prove that I had no choice but to act.
He might’ve been wondering why I was behaving so out of character.
“What things? Something besides the Aqua Planet incident?”
He picked up on my words immediately, sharp as ever.
“No, I meant the incident at Aqua Planet.”
I had no intention of mentioning the chase in the park. If he checked the CCTV, he might notice that I partially transformed. I had no idea what might happen if that came out, so I couldn’t risk it.
Han-gyeol narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing me, then sighed like he’d figured something out.
“Can’t you just wait a little? You know I’m telling you this because I’m worried.”
His tone softened, and I felt my resistance falter again. I knew he’d been on edge about my safety ever since the Gate explosion in Zone B, which only made me feel guiltier.
“Just trust me, Sa-weol. I’ll catch them. I promise.”
“……”
“Do I have to lose you too because of the Cremons?”
When I still didn’t agree, Han-gyeol even brought up the past. His words made my chest tighten painfully. He seemed to realize he’d gone too far and fell silent, then sighed again.
“Please, just hold on a little longer. I think I’m close to catching them.”
“…Did you find something?”
I let a bit of hope slip into my voice, and Han-gyeol smiled faintly. I immediately regretted asking.
From his perspective, I probably seemed like someone who wouldn’t back off from this case no matter what, even after he invoked the Cremons.
“Esper Baek Yu-geon.”
Instead of answering, he suddenly called for Yu-geon.
“Yes, Captain.”
“From now on, if Guide Gu Sa-weol asks for anything outside of protection duty, refuse. That’s an order.”
“Sunbae.”
Ordering him like that—how petty. But Han-gyeol was the team’s captain, and when he gave a direct order like that, there wasn’t much that could be done.
If Yu-geon refused or stayed silent, it would count as insubordination—not just a reason for a warning, but grounds for disciplinary action or even punishment.
“Understood?”
“Yes, understood.”
Yu-geon accepted Han-gyeol’s order without the slightest resistance. My eyes narrowed in frustration at how nothing was going our way.
“Guide Gu Sa-weol, please be mindful that Esper Baek Yu-geon is your assigned protection detail. If anything happens to you, he bears full responsibility.”
“How is that—”
“And during the first attack, Guide Gu Sa-weol was with Esper Baek Yu-geon. If he fails to protect you again, what rumors do you think will spread?”
Just being at the scene of an incident can make someone a suspect.
The only reason Yu-geon wasn’t suspected during the first attack was because I testified that I didn’t remember anything. But if something like that happened a second time, no one would believe it was a coincidence.
“I trust you understand clearly.”
I bit my lip and said nothing. Han-gyeol closed the meeting without waiting for a response.
“And let’s be mindful of attendance so we don’t disrupt team morale. I have another meeting, so I’ll be going now.”
He was so precise and cutting—it was almost annoying how cleanly he ended things. From his perspective, this could have been resolved with a simple order from the start, but instead, he’d tried to settle it through dialogue.
Before he left, he placed a firm hand on my shoulder, then let go.
It was a complex gesture—a silent message that he believed I would respect his words, and that he was sorry it had to be this way.
“Let’s go too.”
Yu-geon stood up when I lingered in my seat after Han-gyeol left.
“Just drop your bag off in the office and come right back. We need to talk—in the capsule.”
Since Yu-geon never carried a bag, he skipped the office and headed straight back down the hallway we’d come from.
My routine had already been thrown off this morning, and now my mood was completely ruined after the talk with Han-gyeol.
I’d never been late since joining Alpha Team. Getting scolded over a single mistake—wasn’t that too much?
I knew Han-gyeol was strict and a perfectionist, to the point it felt suffocating at times. But having that criticism aimed directly at me sparked a rebellious streak.
“…No. It was my fault.”
I sighed, resigned, as I left the meeting room. Normally, I didn’t need him to say anything—I always handled things on my own.
Being scolded by someone who’d always been understanding made me feel like I’d genuinely messed up. Was I really doing the right thing?
The culprit probably didn’t even know I was a Cremon. Was I just stirring up trouble for nothing? With no real progress, I was starting to doubt everything I’d done.
* * *
“What was that? You didn’t have to answer all that. Just say ‘got it’ and do whatever.”
“Still, it might affect you.”
“I don’t care. It’s not like I didn’t know what I was getting into.”
We stepped into the capsule. Despite what Han-gyeol had just said, Yu-geon looked completely unaffected.
Did he just not understand military law, or did he think Han-gyeol would cover for him? Surely, he wasn’t acting without thinking… I was mulling it over when I felt Yu-geon’s eyes on me, persistent as ever.
“You worried about me?”
“No. Honestly, I’m just annoyed at what Han-gyeol said. I can’t even argue back properly because I can’t tell him I’m a Cremon.”
“Almost thought you cared. Could’ve at least said it nicely.”
Yu-geon smiled like he was sulking. Maybe I’d been too blunt. I added quietly:
“…I do worry. A little.”
“What was that?”
“I said I do worry. About you.”
“Made me beg for it, huh?”
Despite the teasing, Yu-geon’s face was lit with amusement. His playful tone wasn’t just to mess with me—he hadn’t asked just for the sake of it.
Truthfully, even though there was a good chance Han-gyeol would overlook it if Yu-geon disobeyed, I couldn’t help but feel bad, like I was causing trouble between them.
“Are we even doing the right thing…?”
My voice lacked confidence, and Yu-geon glanced at me.
“I mean… Han-gyeol’s working alone and seems to have found something, and we’ve got nothing.”
“What do you mean ‘nothing’? We got evidence from Ji Guk-hyeon.”
“That was just luck.”
“Luck’s still a kind of skill. And it wasn’t just luck, strictly speaking. You two wanted the same thing. He didn’t hand that evidence over to Han-gyeol because he wanted to deal with you, as a Guide.”
