AAGULT Ch 39

Chapter 39

 

Anyway, though everything that made up a beast had no effect on ordinary people, it was different for Espers. The beast’s blood, hide, flesh, organs—everything about it harmed the bodies or abilities of Espers. Usually, physical injury came before the loss of abilities. Depending on the grade or the situation, it could even result in death. Of course, no Esper dumb enough to let it go that far would willingly come into contact with one.

“It’s a miracle Song Jaeha didn’t die.”

“They probably ran experiments. Monitored the results and kept refining things.”

How many had it been? Quite a few Esper-Guide disappearance and ability loss cases had occurred. The first was several years ago—a B-rank Esper affiliated with the Association. He was missing for three weeks, and when he returned with no memory, his powers had completely vanished. That wasn’t all. The aftereffects were serious, and it was extremely difficult to figure out what had happened to him. About half a year ago, a secret investigation team had been assembled after finding a faint link between that incident and Baek Beomwoo. Aiden had been assigned to the case three and a half months ago.

It was clear Song Jaeha had been given a refined version of the drug, one they had perfected through trial and error on the previous victims. What remained unclear was whether Song Jaeha himself was the target of this crime. That seemed unlikely. The operation was too large-scale to be aimed at a single individual. It was more plausible that the motive lay in resentment and hostility toward Espers, Guides, or even the Association itself.

“Thirteen Espers currently registered with the Association, and five Guides. No telling what the number would be if we included the unaffiliated.”

“……”

As soon as Song Jaeha had left, Aiden had called in a healing Esper like some lowly servant and fully healed his arm. Once satisfied with the condition, he pulled down his sleeve, slouched into his chair, and propped his foot up on the mess of documents strewn across the desk.

When Aiden bluntly stated the confirmed number of victims so far, the Association President visibly aged. He sighed heavily and pressed his temples in frustration.

“I told you we should have gone public.”

“You know why we couldn’t.”

“Oh, right. Because the Association’s a bunch of bastards?”

“……”

The president was left speechless by the direct blow. Behind him, Aiden chuckled—not because it was funny, but because of the absurdity of the situation. Though his laugh was light and bright, it carried clear scorn underneath. He leaned forward slightly and picked up a stack of papers from the desk. It was someone’s profile.

“Baek Beomwoo, First Team, Crow Unit, Esper Association.”

“……”

“The name sounds impressive, at least.”

He lazily scanned the photo of a young man, likely in his late teens or early twenties, dressed in special forces uniform. His closely cropped hair revealed a clean forehead and thick eyebrows. His eyes, void of light, stared stiffly into the camera. He didn’t look angry or happy—just blank. The contrast of that hollow gaze with his still youthful face was downright disturbing.

Next to the photo were physical traits, abilities, and key notes. Aiden read through them with increasing sharpness, openly criticizing the other party.

“Did they really think things would end well after secretly using orphans for dirty work?”

The Crow Unit—ordinary people didn’t know about them, but anyone in Association circles had heard the rumors. They handled the filthiest of jobs.

Rumor had it they took in orphans for clean-up missions after operations, and while Aiden had heard it, he hadn’t thought it true. The truth was shocking; the outcome was not. Just before their unethical operations could be exposed, the unit had been disbanded under the guise of reform, taking with it evidence of the Association President’s corruption. What remained were unrecognized victims and agents so broken by immoral orders that they were impossible to handle.

“……”

“Well, not really your fault, Mr. President.”

Aiden was aware that the current president had been cleaning up the mess left behind by the former president and the government for years. Politics, corporations, and the Association were too entangled for anyone to expose Baek Beomwoo outright. Still, it left a bitter taste.

Regardless, this was reality. And reality had to be dealt with.

Aiden flipped through the profile, ignoring unnecessary pages detailing mission success rates and reports.

“……”

He paused at the last page, letting out a dry laugh. It was so absurd, so ridiculous.

“Guide rejection syndrome? Baek Beomwoo?”

“He was well-known for it around here. Over ten years in the unit, and he only received proper guiding twice—both times just before mental collapse, forcibly subdued.”

Aiden scoffed, one corner of his mouth twitching with disbelief.

“That doesn’t line up with what I know…”

“Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

He thought back to Song Jaeha’s condition. Though the man had never received proper guiding, there were faint traces left behind. A few things came to mind.

And there was one more thing bothering him. But he didn’t tell the president. Like the snake he was, he chose to stay quiet and assess the situation.

“Maybe age made him change his mind…”

“Bullshit. He’s just a creepy pervert, that’s all.”

“You know what happens when Espers don’t receive guiding.”

Even when the president tried to defend the Esper, Aiden scoffed. The idea that age and pain had pushed Baek Beomwoo into finally accepting guidance? No, he knew better. That perverted bastard had only taken guiding to eventually pass it on to Song Jaeha. He hated to admit it, but he and Baek Beomwoo were cut from the same cloth. That’s why he could tell.

If Aiden were an Esper instead of a Guide, he might’ve chosen a similar path. Of course, unlike Baek Beomwoo who’d grown into a freakishly large and twisted adult, he would’ve done it in a smarter, cleaner way.

Baek Beomwoo was the wind, while Aiden was the artificial light pretending to be sunlight. He knew exactly which one a normal person like Song Jaeha would choose. If that meant Song Jaeha got fooled in the process, then so be it.

“We’ll see.”

Aiden didn’t bother explaining his reasoning. It was just instinct, and he saw no need to share it.

Still, his mind worked fast, slippery as ever. After sleeping with Song Jaeha, he realized something odd—that Baek Beomwoo hadn’t yet fully claimed him. What was he waiting for? Only one possibility came to mind: he was waiting for Song Jaeha to become an ordinary person.

Persistent, crazy bastard.

You can’t “save” someone by withholding them like that.

In the end, I seduced and had him first.

Aiden, with no trace of shame, smirked.

Objectively, he knew he wasn’t exactly sane either. He was well aware of that. Still immersed in such selfish thoughts, he tilted his head and continued his report.

“Song Jaeha’s reaching his limit.”

He recalled the man he’d seen at the hospital just days ago. Sure, he’d wanted him enough to sleep with him, but the guy hadn’t looked well. His resonance was twisted, too.

“Understandable, given he’s a mental-type Esper…”

“That’s part of it.”

He recalled how terrified Song Jaeha was of receiving guiding—almost compulsively so. Baek Beomwoo had “crafted” him very well.

“Baek Beomwoo’s side seems to be catching on to us, and they’re trying to pull back… We need to extract Song Jaeha soon. Last check had him at C-rank; soon, he’ll either be a normal civilian or dead.”

The illegal drug he’d been on—containing high concentrations of Eridoke’s blood—meant he was already beyond repair. If they didn’t act now, he could be left with permanent disabilities. The image of that man hobbling out barefoot, worried about stepping on a splinter, made Aiden’s stomach churn. He clicked his tongue in irritation.

“You seem… quite invested.”

“Get criticized even when I do my job well, huh.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

To the president, this side of Aiden felt unfamiliar. He thought back to when he’d first brought the guide into the task force. It had started with the discovery that the relatively unknown Song Jaeha was intimately linked to Baek Beomwoo’s growing criminal organization. He’d only shown Aiden a photo for reference.

‘He’s cute.’

‘So this Esper—wait, what?’

‘I’ll take this case.’

That was all it took. A single spark of interest on Aiden’s otherwise indifferent face.

As expected, he fulfilled his mission while also shamelessly indulging his personal desires. And somewhere along the way… it got weirder. And nastier.

“Fine, prepare a dedicated treatment room for Song Jaeha. Make sure the medical staff and researchers are up to par… I’ll handle the legal defense myself—he’s not registered, and technically a criminal. I’ll coax him over next time I visit.”

And that’s when it became strange.

The president, who had known Aiden since he was young, now realized that the guide was planning something abnormal.

No, he had always been abnormal—but this behavior, protecting a victim of such a case, was what felt out of place. The president narrowed his eyes and decided to test him.

“Is there… really a need to go that far?”

“What, you’re planning to use him and throw him away again?”

“That’s not what I meant. Of course victims should be supported. But no matter how much he was manipulated by Baek Beomwoo, Song Jaeha is still a criminal. From the Association’s perspective, we don’t see the need to go to such lengths. Besides, he’s no longer a prospective S-rank Esper. He’s just a C-rank now.”

“……”

Just days ago, the president had considered recruiting Song Jaeha. But now, in a calculated move to probe Aiden’s intent, he’d casually discarded him. And Aiden’s beautiful face twisted in disapproval.

“Of course, if you insist, we’ll comply.”

“……”

“From the outside, it really looks like you’ve got personal feelings involved.”

Finally, Aiden looked up from the documents. But his gaze didn’t meet the president’s. He stared into space for a moment, then let out a soft sigh.

“Ah.”

A clear, simple sound.

“……Yeah, maybe so.”

The clever man had finally realized he was doing something that didn’t suit him.