But for some reason, it didn’t feel like just dust—it felt more like layers of fog piling up. The gate should’ve been open for a while already, so why was visibility still so poor?
“It’s probably mist leaking from the gate. Sometimes gases like that spread outside.”
Gyu-hyeon’s answer cleared up my confusion. Maybe because I couldn’t see far ahead, it felt like the road stretched on endlessly.
The rustling sounds and thick mist created an eerie atmosphere. The deeper we drove, the more we passed by cracked asphalt and tangled power lines clinging to leaning trees.
Shapes would appear vividly before us and vanish into the fog, each time making me feel like something might jump out, tightening the tension in the air. Even though it was summer, the pale air felt cold against my skin.
Guides like Ji-soo and the others often went out for field guiding, but this was my first time experiencing something like this. During the B-Rank breach gate incident, I had been underground, so I had no idea what the surface looked like then.
Was it this damp outside that day too? It looked like it might start raining any minute. Everything beyond the window looked unlike the city I was used to, and I was so absorbed by the view that I almost didn’t hear Gyu-hyeon speak quietly beside me.
“Guide Gu Sa-weol.”
“Yes?”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Go ahead.”
He paused for a while even after I gave him permission, before finally continuing.
“About why you’re chasing the culprit behind the guide attack case.”
I had been half ignoring him until that point, but I turned to look at Gyu-hyeon then.
“If sharing what Captain Han-gyeol discovered with you only puts you in more danger, I won’t do it. I share the Captain’s view—having a guide pursue the culprit is too dangerous.”
If my earlier reasoning hadn’t worked, I had planned to bribe him with a childhood photo of Han-gyeol or something—but Gyu-hyeon seemed firm in his conviction.
He wasn’t the kind to give up information in exchange for something like that. I fell silent for a moment, then spoke softly.
“I just want to be able to face him with pride.”
At that, Ji-han glanced at us through the rearview mirror. I had meant it to be a whisper just for Gyu-hyeon, but maybe Ji-han heard it too.
“What do you mean? Did you do something wrong to the Captain?”
Something wrong, huh… The word made me laugh a little.
“…Why are you laughing?”
Gyu-hyeon looked genuinely puzzled, unable to guess my meaning. I lowered my voice even further.
“It was wrong. The guide attack happened not long ago, but I went and had a meal somewhere far from the Center without permission.”
“Ah… That’s what you meant.”
Though still a little skeptical, Gyu-hyeon nodded.
“So you’re chasing the culprit because you feel responsible, and want to fix your mistake yourself?”
That wasn’t the whole truth, but it wasn’t exactly a lie either.
The real mistake was being bitten during the B-Rank breach gate and becoming a Cremon, and my ultimate goal in chasing the culprit was the antibiotic—so saying I wanted to clean up my own mess wasn’t too far off the mark from my perspective.
As I nodded with a faint smile, Gyu-hyeon began to frown deeper in thought. He had this habit of sticking his lips out slightly when he was thinking hard—it made him look a little younger.
“But… wasn’t going out for a meal not really a mistake?”
The question felt oddly out of place after all that.
The guide attack had happened so soon after, and I’d been far from the Center at the time—it was clearly a mistake.
“So really, it’s the culprit’s fault, not yours, Guide Gu Sa-weol.”
“Esper Seong Gyu-hyeon, do you even know what you’re saying?”
“I mean…”
Gyu-hyeon looked flustered, frowning as he tried to sort through his thoughts, but eventually opened his mouth again.
“My words are a bit messy, but what I’m trying to say is—it’s not your fault. The culprit had already planned to attack you, an S-Class guide. Even if it hadn’t happened that day, it would’ve happened eventually.”
That was a fair point. I was the only S-Class guide. Even if I had been more careful, I would’ve been targeted sooner or later.
Avoiding the Center wouldn’t have prevented the attack—just delayed it.
Even now, I was staying in the dorms and being accompanied by two guards because there was still risk. Until the culprit was caught, it was just a temporary measure.
The responsibility lay not with the guide, but with the one who attacked the guide.
And somehow, Gyu-hyeon’s words also sounded like he was saying that what happened at the B-Rank gate—the moment I became a Cremon—wasn’t my fault either. That it was the Creature that bit me who was to blame.
“So… I hope you don’t carry the guilt for what happened that day.”
“……”
Even if it was just words, it meant a lot.
In reality, people rarely look at things objectively. Most just cling to their prejudices and say Cremons are wrong by default…
If Cremons were seen as equal beings, maybe they could be free of such blame. But would that ever happen in my lifetime? No—even in death, it probably wouldn’t.
“So… does that mean you’re no longer pursuing the culprit?”
“No. I’m still going to catch them.”
“……”
Even after saying all that, Gyu-hyeon seemed at a loss for words as he saw that I still wouldn’t give up.
“Don’t you care about the Captain?”
Why bring him up now?
“You know how sensitive Captain Han-gyeol is about anything related to Cremons.”
The fact that Han-gyeol’s biological mother was killed by a Cremon wasn’t widely known in the media. But it seemed that, through the Baek family’s staff, the information had leaked, and his fans knew about it in whispers.
I’d heard it from the person himself, but Gyu-hyeon, being a longtime fan of Han-gyeol, probably knew the basics of the Baek family tragedy.
It actually made the conversation easier, knowing he understood.
“That’s exactly why we have to catch them quickly. I don’t want the people around me to feel uneasy because of me.”
“I feel the same.”
Something about the determined look on his face made me watch Gyu-hyeon closely.
“When you first suggested sharing the information, I didn’t want to do it to prove myself. I wanted to catch the culprit myself and ease the Captain’s anxiety.”
“……”
“I want to help him let go of his trauma about Cremons. I don’t know if someone like me even has the right to get involved in that kind of thing…”
Even if Han-gyeol trusted Gyu-hyeon, I doubted he ever shared such a personal matter with him. But seeing how much he genuinely cared for Han-gyeol stirred something in me.
Gyu-hyeon didn’t just admire Han-gyeol—he truly cared about him.
“I just wish there were something I could do for him.”
His cheeks turned a little red, as if he were embarrassed by his own words.
“So… what exactly did the Captain find out?”
So what Gyu-hyeon meant was that he wanted to catch the culprit for Han-gyeol. That meant, whatever his reasons, he was willing to share the information with me.
When I immediately asked about the information, Gyu-hyeon hesitated, licking his dry lips like he was still unsure whether he should say it. But eventually, he opened his mouth.
“Please don’t tell the Captain.”
“Of course not.”
Inside, I was thrilled—this felt like a win.
“It was during the Aqua Planet incident. There was a witness who saw the culprit.”
Aqua Planet? That was the aquarium I visited with Han-gyeol recently to watch the marine show. That day, there was a sudden incident where one orca attacked another. Han-gyeol stayed behind to help Team Oscar investigate.
He must’ve connected the guide attack case to that incident and found a lead at the scene.
“Who was it? Did they see the culprit’s face?”
My heart was pounding. If they’d seen the face, then this case was practically solved.
“A four-year-old child said they saw yellow eyes. Yellow irises on a black sclera.”
Clear proof of a Cremon. That savage, beastlike gaze that came from partial creature transformation.
“So…”
“We handed the witness over to Esper Ji Guk-hyeon to read their memory. Since reading a civilian’s memory involves complicated ethical issues, the paperwork and approval process took a while.”
“When will they be able to access the memory?”
“Results should come out by the day after tomorrow. Esper Ji Guk-hyeon says de-conditioning usually takes about three days.”
This wasn’t just a thread on the culprit’s tail—it was a bite on the head. Once Ji Guk-hyeon accessed the memory and checked the profiles of the Center’s awakened individuals, they’d find the match quickly.
Creature transformation doesn’t alter facial structure—only the eyes, nails, and skin tone.
“And there’s one more thing.”
I turned toward Gyu-hyeon with wide eyes.
“They said someone else was beside the culprit.”
“What?”
“There might be an accomplice. Unfortunately, the child didn’t see their face.”
An accomplice? I was shocked. Since the culprit is a mental-type Esper, maybe they used brainwashing to control someone.
When Guk-hyeon’s younger cousin was attacked, other Cremons had blocked the way, making it impossible to pursue the suspect further.
In that sense, they were accomplices—but since they were brainwashed, it was more accurate to call them subordinates. Just tools without will.
“Was a composite sketch made?”
“The child is only four… so it wasn’t very usable. But according to the statement, the culprit had sparkling silver hair and looked like a prince.”
“……”
Suddenly, I felt like I was overlooking something. Something important.
I paused to think.
“They also said there were tattoo-like symbols—like magic circles—on his forearm and around his neck.”
What is that? It felt very important.
It seemed closely tied to the case. The clues I’d gathered while investigating the culprit scattered in my mind.
I began to calmly sort them out, fitting the puzzle pieces together one by one.
Missing researcher. Antibiotic. Mental-type Esper. C-Rank. Center-affiliated awakened individual. Cremon capable of instant brainwashing. Accomplice… two people.
“And the child said it smelled like the sea.”
And in that instant—it hit me like a light bulb turning on.
