TGIC Ch 129

Chapter 129

“Guide Kwon Gidam, today I—”

Vasily turned, intending to warn him in advance—thinking perhaps mental preparation would help.

But what met his eyes was Gidam swaying, breath ragged and uneven.

“Guide Kwon Gidam? What’s wrong?”

“Just… a little dizzy…”

He staggered again. Vasily caught him, and as he did, a faint metallic scent brushed his nose.

Vasily lowered his gaze to the source.

Just as he thought—blood seeped through a torn section of Gidam’s combat trousers.

“You’re hurt.”

“…Tch. When did that happen?”

“Let’s wash the blood off first.”

Without hesitation, Vasily tore open the fabric. The reinforced monster-hide suit ripped like paper, exposing Gidam’s thigh.

Gidam shouted in shock, demanding what he thought he was doing. Vasily didn’t bother replying. He simply pulled out a disinfectant and poured it over the wound.

“Agh!”

The harsh solution burned, eliciting a sharp cry. Gidam’s trembling leg barely held him upright.

Washing away the blood revealed swollen flesh, tinted purple. A trace of monster blood was already mixing with the wound.

Vasily clicked his tongue, brows tightening.

“Don’t move. I need to freeze it.”

Cold fingertips brushed skin. By the time Gidam flinched and looked down, a thin frost had sealed the wound.

“When we exit the Gate, we go straight to the hospital.”

“…Yes.”

Gidam nodded weakly.

Vasily turned toward the inner Gate.

Only one monster remained. He had hoped to savor watching Gidam fight one last time, but—

Not like this. Not when he couldn’t even stand properly.

They needed to leave and treat him; the final monster could freeze along with the Gate itself.

Vasily lifted Gidam into his arms.

“I—I can walk.”

“If you move, the toxin spreads faster. Unless you’d like a wheelchair for the next few months, stay still.”

Thankfully, low-rank monsters meant weaker venom. A few days’ rest should suffice.

Gidam squirmed briefly, but in his condition resistance was meaningless. Vasily held him securely and began retracing their path.

A chill spread from the depths of the Gate behind them. Gidam’s silence made it clear he noticed Vasily had triggered something.

He was strangely quiet. And warm—too warm.

Vasily glanced down.

Gidam blinked sluggishly, eyes unfocused. Fever haze clouded his gaze; consciousness was slipping.

A strained, shallow breath escaped him.

Perhaps it was better—sleep would spare him pain.

By the time they reached the exit, Gidam had already gone limp in Vasily’s arms.

It was only a brief fainting spell. After receiving an antidote and basic examination at the hospital, Gidam had been transferred to Vasily’s private room.

Now Vasily stood silently beside the bed, staring down at him—his hand hooked to an IV, still unconscious.

The attending physician, checking vitals beside him, finally spoke.

“After all the times I warned you he needed rest, you still brought Guide Kwon Gidam into a Gate?”

Vasily’s cold stare shut him up instantly. Yet the man pressed on, nervous but determined.

“And forgive me for asking, but—surely you didn’t intend to shock him into regaining his memories?”

“That wasn’t my intention.”

When Vasily denied it casually, the doctor looked at him as though trying to decipher something unsettling.

Of course he reacted that way—he didn’t know Gidam had long been seasoned in Gate combat. If he did, he would likely be begging to witness it himself.

But Vasily had no intention of sharing that knowledge.

The doctor exhaled heavily.

“As you know, his collapse wasn’t only from contamination. Stress levels were elevated, and his immune function has dropped significantly.”

“…”

“If this continues, his body won’t withstand it.”

His tone was earnest.

He had cared for Vasily for years and knew better than anyone how fragile Gidam was right now—still recovering, disoriented by amnesia, and dragged into a Gate alongside Vasily of all people. The fact he hadn’t collapsed sooner bordered on miracle.

“And what if his memory returns suddenly under this strain?”

“…Who knows.”

Vasily’s vague answer made the doctor grimace.

He wasn’t worried about that at all.

In Vasily’s mind, the fault of their fractured relationship lay with Gidam—who had hidden his regression. Vasily had done no wrong. When memories returned, it would be Gidam, not him, who should feel uneasy.

“…I’ll take my leave. And please, do not take your Guide anywhere near a Gate until he recovers. Bringing someone amnesiac and weakened into one—honestly…”

Muttering to himself, the doctor departed.

Peace returned. Vasily stayed at Gidam’s side, unmoving.

“Ugh… ngh…”

Throughout the night, Gidam tossed and burned with fever. Vasily placed a cool hand upon his forehead.

Gidam pressed into the touch instinctively, seeking the chill like a child seeking comfort.

Strange.

Only hours ago, he’d intended to demand Guiding the moment they returned. Yet the instant he saw Gidam suffering, that thought dissolved completely.

His chest ached at the sight of him clinging weakly to his palm.

“How ridiculous…”

Then Gidam’s eyelids fluttered open.

He blinked at the ceiling blankly, then turned—eyes widening when he saw Vasily sitting in the darkness. Startled, he jolted upright.

“Why are you here?”

“You collapsed.”

“That’s not what I meant—why—”

He looked baffled. He always did lately—always wary, always guarded. It soured Vasily’s mood.

“My Guide collapsed. Am I not allowed to worry?”

“If you’re capable of worrying, maybe don’t take me into a Gate in the first place.”

“…Fair.”

He had known Gidam wouldn’t walk out unharmed. That was the cost of getting him accustomed to Gates again. Wounds heal, bodies adapt.

But… seeing him unconscious, feverish—Vasily felt something twist.

For the first time, he wondered if not bringing him had been better.

When Vasily quietly agreed, Gidam frowned.

“…What’s wrong with you? You never talked like this.”

“What’s my ‘usual,’ then?”

“You treat people like insects and don’t care whether I get hurt.”

“Accurate.”

Which made this even stranger. He should have found Gidam’s collapse pathetic—not concerning.

“For now, you won’t be going into any Gates.”

“…Truly?”

“I think you’re right. It’s better not to push you until you recover.”

Oddly, Gidam’s expression didn’t brighten. Instead, he looked… conflicted.

He pressed his lips together, eyes shadowed with something between confusion and unease.