AAGULT Ch 112

Chapter 112

 

 

 

Jaeha, too, stared blankly at Aiden in shock.

Aiden wore an utterly dumbfounded expression.

“If you put it like that, who’s going to say, ‘I won’t go’? You’re basically pressuring people to step into a place where the chance of dying is greater than coming back alive.”

“Guide Ye Aiden.”

“And from the looks of it, Esper Song Jaeha didn’t even know what this meeting was about. You didn’t show him that video about Baek Beomwoo beforehand, did you? If he’s directly involved, you should’ve informed him before this meeting.”

“……”

Everyone fell silent. Conflicts and differing opinions during gate briefings weren’t uncommon, but such outbursts were rare in a large-scale meeting attended by the Chairman and high-ranking Espers and Guides. The conference room became so tense and sharp-edged that it felt like the air itself could scratch skin.

“……For now, could everyone please step out? As mentioned, the gate participation request forms will be distributed shortly, and the next briefing is in three days. Thank you all for attending today.”

“……”

Everyone quietly stood up, gauging the atmosphere. The only sounds were the subtle scraping of chairs and soft murmurs of parting words.

And so, the meeting came to an end. The only ones remaining were Jaeha, Aiden, and the Chairman.

“……”

And yet, Jaeha… in this suffocating situation, despite being acutely aware of the tension, somehow felt… happy.

He knew he should keep quiet. Still, the experience of someone stepping up to defend him when they didn’t have to—it felt incredibly rare and precious.

“First of all…”

Snapping out of his daze, Jaeha turned his eyes toward the Chairman, who broke the long silence. The man looked conflicted.

“Guide Ye Aiden is right. I owe you an apology.”

“Ah…”

“It wasn’t intentional. But considering your unresolved status and the overwhelming number of matters at hand, things ended up this way.”

“……It’s alright.”

It wasn’t exactly a proper apology. But coming from someone in the Chairman’s position—who had no obligation to apologize to Jaeha—it was likely the best he could offer. Jaeha accepted it calmly. Aiden, however, frowned slightly, clearly displeased.

“As Baek Beomwoo said, we do intend to send him into the gate, and to meet his terms, we need you.”

“……”

The Chairman studied Jaeha’s face and continued slowly.

“Jaeha, I understand more than anyone the burden you’re feeling. But this mission could be your chance to go from victim to hero. …Of course, we won’t pressure you into anything.”

The Chairman’s tone was cautious but experienced. He cloaked his barbs in rational, considerate language, which made it sound thoughtful on the surface.

“But if you decide to accept, the Association will ensure your honor, safety, freedom, and future in return.”

He continued outlining the specifics. Since Jaeha had no gate experience, he would be assigned at least two A-rank or higher Espers. He’d receive two to three times the standard compensation plus a separate hazard bonus. Even after the mission, post-mission welfare and support would be provided. It all sounded smooth and persuasive—but to Jaeha, it felt unreal and distant.

And the more the Chairman spoke, the more Aiden’s reactions stood out. He was frowning, irritably tapping the table with his fingertip. The longer he stayed silent, the drier his gaze became.

Finally, Aiden interrupted mid-explanation.

“I can provide all of that myself.”

“……Guide Ye Aiden.”

The Chairman’s brow twitched subtly at Aiden’s interjection. His expression showed disbelief, as if someone he thought was on his side had suddenly changed their stance.

“Jaeha, don’t let the situation sweep you away. Think this through carefully. That gate is dangerous.”

He seemed even more upset than usual, and Jaeha found it odd. Then again, maybe he was especially sensitive because it was that gate. Reflexively, Jaeha reached out and lightly touched his shoulder—an unconscious gesture of comfort. It was only when he saw Aiden’s slight frown that he realized what he was doing.

“…Jaeha, I’m not saying this because I’m scared of the gate. Like I said in the meeting, I don’t even remember what happened inside.”

Instead of saying he was scared, he said he couldn’t remember. That unsettled Jaeha. He, too, had experienced memory confusion before. Although in his case, the memories were false but never missing, whereas Aiden had lost his entirely.

“Guide Ye Aiden, this is just a proposal. Nothing is being forced. That applies to you as well.”

“That’s not true.”

Jaeha immediately sensed something was off. Aiden was strangely agitated. He was acting more protective than usual, and was clearly irritated. Overall, he seemed on edge.

The Chairman, who had known Aiden longer than Jaeha had, surely noticed it too. He narrowed his eyes slightly.

“Let’s take a moment to calm down… Shall we talk in private?”

Even as he spoke, he glanced cautiously at Jaeha, signaling him to step out. Jaeha understood and slowly tried to rise from his seat—until the man beside him grabbed his arm.

“I’m perfectly calm. Stop making me repeat myself.”

The way the young man—still youthful in years—spoke to a far older and highly ranked individual was far from respectful. The joy Jaeha had felt from being protected quickly turned into genuine concern.

“Aiden, I’ll wait outside for a bit.”

“No. Let’s leave together. It won’t take long.”

Jaeha, hesitant, tilted his head and whispered softly in an attempt to soothe him. But Aiden responded stubbornly, without even looking his way. It felt like trying to pacify a stubborn child—even though Aiden was no child…

“Guide Ye Aiden.”

“……”

“Guide Ye Aiden!”

“Enough!”

At last, the voice rose. The Chairman slammed his hand on the table, his expression tightening.

“What on earth is wrong with you?!”

Thud!

The noise echoed, cutting their argument off midstream. Everything fell silent under the weight of tension, except for faint breathing. Watching others fight made Jaeha’s heart pound.

After a beat, the Chairman opened his mouth, still riled up.

“To begin wi—”

“……”

No—he almost said something in anger, but abruptly stopped.

Clatter. In that moment, the Chairman was so flustered that he lost balance, and the scraping of his chair rang out. His expression shifted from anger to bewilderment, and the atmosphere of the room transformed with it.

Like someone who’d narrowly stopped themselves from making a major mistake—

“……”

…He was looking at Jaeha for a reaction.

Jaeha, awkwardly sitting like a shrimp caught in a whale fight, unconsciously looked at the Chairman. The man had barely avoided a verbal misstep—but Jaeha was a mental-type Esper, someone who could read another’s thoughts.

The Chairman was unlucky. And Jaeha… well, was it luck? Instinctively, he used his ability, and had to take a moment to process the sudden influx of information.

What Jaeha read was rather cruel.

[You’re the one who suggested using a honey trap, saying it would work if we pushed him this way!]

That sentence pierced Jaeha’s awareness like a sharpened blade.

Had it stopped there, maybe it wouldn’t have been so devastating. Maybe he would’ve been less shaken. But Jaeha also picked up the trailing memory that came with the thought. Specifically, from about half a year ago—the image of the Chairman handing Aiden a photo of Jaeha.

[He’s cute.]

[So this Espe—what?]

[I’ll take care of it.]

Yes, that image…

The memory of Aiden choosing him as a means to approach the President. Of lightly deciding to lay a trap for Jaeha.

That was when Jaeha realized: everything—every feeling—had been fake.

He blinked. It was hard to believe, but the next moment, everything suddenly made sense. Of course. There was no way someone like Aiden would genuinely like someone like him. In fact, it was laughable that someone with his abilities had only now figured it out.

His lips parted, then closed again. He felt a hollow laugh bubbling up.

“…Song Jaeha-ssi?”

“Yes.”

The Chairman cautiously called his name. Jaeha replied, astonishingly calm even to himself. His voice felt foreign and detached, as if it were floating outside him.

“…Is it alright if I do this?”

“……”

“I’ll go into the gate. But in return, can you reduce the verbal agreement about Guide Aiden’s five gate entries—to just this once? Since this gate is particularly dangerous.”

The Chairman’s face turned unusually pale—he had realized Jaeha had read his thoughts.

“……”

Jaeha gently removed Aiden’s hand from his arm. There was an uncharacteristic firmness in the gesture. Perhaps sensing something was wrong, Aiden looked up at him—but Jaeha didn’t look back.

“Chairman?”

Jaeha, unusually, pressed for a response. At last, the Chairman sighed deeply and answered.

“…I’ll consider it favorably.”

“Thank you. …May I go now?”

He had to get away. More precisely, he had to get away from the man beside him, who was now looking at him with puzzled eyes.

“Go ahead…”

The Chairman rubbed his forehead. Jaeha, having received the answer he wanted, no longer looked for approval as he usually did. He simply offered a quiet smile, bowed slightly, and turned to leave.

“Jaeha?”

Aiden called his name in a voice Jaeha had never heard before—but Jaeha didn’t look back.

“Jaeha…?”

Even as his voice began to tremble, Jaeha didn’t stop. He calmly shut the meeting room door behind him and immediately began walking down the hallway at a brisk pace.

Strangely enough, he didn’t feel like crying or getting angry. Nor was he consumed by helplessness or despair. Even though it felt like he should have been.

What Jaeha felt in that moment was, oddly, a sense of liberation.

He no longer had to feel guilty about liking him.

He no longer had to force himself to accept someone who always seemed far greater than himself.

And that… felt remarkably refreshing and joyous.