AAGULT Ch 126

Chapter 126

It wasn’t as though he was speaking with conviction, nor was he trying to persuade—he simply pointed it out in a matter-of-fact way, as if stating an obvious truth, and Jaeha couldn’t help but look back at him in stunned disbelief.

“Why… Why?”

“What the—are we the future team? Is that real? Why didn’t you tell us earlier…!”

It seemed Jaeha wasn’t the only one bewildered. Beside him, Geonwoo gaped and pressed for answers as well.

“I’ll explain on the way.”

In contrast, the boss… looked extremely reluctant to explain anything. With a sigh in his voice, he gave a curt reply and turned to start walking. Caught off guard, Jaeha hurried to adjust his grip on Ms. Mi-ae, whom he was supporting, and began to follow. Geonwoo also took position on the other side to help support her. Since Ms. Mi-ae was quite large in build, her feet slightly dragged, but there was no helping it. The two of them carefully adjusted their holds on her arms while trying to make as little noise as possible.

“Jaeha, careful.”

“Ah, thank you…”

The aftermath of the battle had left the road cracked and uneven, making it difficult to walk. They had to keep a constant eye on the ground to avoid tripping, all while glancing nervously around in case another monster appeared.

“…”

The man leading the way, however, was different. Though it was his first time entering a gate, the boss seemed completely unfazed and moved without hesitation. As he scouted behind a collapsed building, he slowly opened his mouth and asked,

“What did you think a double gate was?”

The unexpected question froze their thoughts for a moment. A double gate? Could that have anything to do with how they’d been split into two separate teams?

“Well, I thought…”

“…”

Jaeha couldn’t respond right away, lost in thought. Geonwoo also seemed to be puzzling over it, but no answer came easily. It was only natural—after all, there had been so few real cases of double gates opening, and even fewer who truly knew what had happened inside them.

“Um… Maybe there’s another gate inside the gate?”

Geonwoo ventured slowly. Jaeha couldn’t come up with a better theory than that, so he stayed quiet and kept thinking. Most people, when hearing the term “double gate,” would probably make a similar assumption—that it was a system where one had to find a hidden gate within the initial one and defeat a hidden boss inside it to clear the level.

After searching for a safe zone, the boss finally moved toward the entrance of what looked like an apartment building. As he walked, he casually dismissed their guess.

“There’s no other gate inside this one.”

His voice was confident, and once again, Jaeha couldn’t help but wonder how he knew such things. But instead of asking, he stayed silent and waited for the man to continue. Geonwoo rolled his eyes and asked,

“Then what is it?”

“There are two entrances into this gate.”

The boss turned his head and briefly looked up at the sky. Perhaps deciding that the inside of the apartment would be too isolated and make it hard to keep an eye on the electronic billboard in the sky, he turned back.

So, their momentary shock over the new information passed quickly, and they hurriedly reversed course, dragging Ms. Mi-ae along with them. The boss didn’t seem to care about their slower pace, so they had to rush to keep up.

They eventually settled inside what appeared to be a community center next to the apartment.

“Two entrances? Are you serious? Explain properly!”

Geonwoo carefully laid Mi-ae down on the floor and then turned urgently to the boss. His voice was noticeably louder than when they’d been out in the open, constantly on guard against monster attacks.

But Baek Beomwoo looked past the frustrated Geonwoo and instead addressed the more composed Jaeha.

“Jaeha.”

“Yes, sir?”

“How many people were deployed when the double gate opened in the past?”

Jaeha recalled the briefing, where the profiles of fifty-some people had filled the screen—half of them in black and white.

“…Fifty-two.”

He answered slowly, then looked out the window at the electronic billboard in the sky.

<PAST TEAM: 45/52 │ FUTURE TEAM: 48/49 │ MONSTER TEAM: 99/101>

Fifty-two personnel were deployed when the double gate opened in the past. And the past team’s capacity now was 52.

…The numbers matched.

“No way…”

Then, if what the boss said was true…

“You’re saying the people in the past team are the ones who entered the gate twenty-one years ago? Seriously? Are you telling me the gate’s internal system can manipulate time?”

Apparently, Geonwoo had followed the logic too, as his voice rang out in disbelief. Jaeha, meanwhile, kept his gaze fixed on the electronic billboard above, lost in thought.

<PAST TEAM: 45/52 │ FUTURE TEAM: 48/49 │ MONSTER TEAM: 99/101>

<PAST TEAM: 44/52 │ FUTURE TEAM: 48/49 │ MONSTER TEAM: 99/101>

Another one had died just now. Whether that board could be trusted was unclear, but it was the only visual confirmation they had—and all the context suggested it was accurate.

“But the future team is listed as having 49 members, sir. We deployed 53 people this time.”

Jaeha’s voice was cautious, thoughtful. In response, the man laughed. Even though he wasn’t wearing his usual suit but a rumpled prison uniform, the sight brought back memories of the quiet, patient man who had once mentored him.

“I raised you to be sharp. Think it through a bit more.”

Rather than answering, he prompted Jaeha to work it out himself.

“…”

‘Raised’—the word grated on him, but it wasn’t wrong. He had been in the man’s grasp since early childhood, even if he didn’t remember it. Still, the fact no longer frightened him as much as it once had. It just made him feel… unsettled.

He stared at the man for a moment, then did as he was told and began turning things over in his mind.

“What class is this? Can’t you just tell us?”

Geonwoo grumbled beside him, but Baek Beomwoo ignored him as if he weren’t even there.

“…What was I expecting.”

Geonwoo sighed in disbelief and, seeming to give up on getting answers, sat down beside Mi-ae and began checking his equipment. It looked like he was about to try contacting someone via walkie-talkie, but the way he jabbed at it in frustration suggested it wasn’t working well.

“…”

Jaeha glanced briefly at him before quietly turning his eyes back to the electronic billboard in the sky.

Past team: 52 people. That matched the number deployed in the double gate incident 21 years ago.

Future team: 49 people. But 53 had been deployed this time. A difference of four.

“Four…”

A strangely familiar number. Jaeha wrinkled the bridge of his nose. Then a memory surfaced—something the association president had said during the briefing.

“We deployed 52 at the time. Twenty-six returned alive. Ten are still surviving to this day. Of those, four are still active.”

And something Aiden had once said also came to mind.

“There were four of us who lost our memories completely, like me. The rest retained about 10% in fragments.”

And then it hit him. Jaeha unconsciously relaxed his frown and murmured in disbelief,

“They match…”

His whisper was faint, but the boss didn’t miss it. He let out a quiet chuckle, like a teacher watching a student finally work through a difficult math problem. Jaeha should have felt a sense of aversion to that expression—but the revelation that had just struck him left his mind blank.

That’s right. They matched.

Four people who had entered the double gate in the past, returned alive, continued to work as active hunters, and now re-entered the gate in this operation.

If this double gate had two entrances into the same space—thus its name—and the same individual had entered it twice from two different points in time…

“So of the 53, four had already entered the gate before… meaning they can’t be counted as members of either team?”

If a person existed in the same space at two different points in time, that would be a paradox. So perhaps the billboard simply excluded them? Given that the past team’s number matched the original deployment count, maybe those four were only counted in the past team?

Jaeha didn’t even register the boss’s satisfied smile.

One realization now flooded his mind.

Among those four duplicate individuals… one of them was someone he knew very, very well.

A person who had entered the gate at the age of seven, barely escaped alive, and this time… had refused to let Jaeha go alone.

“No…”

Jaeha gasped in dismay.

Eden.

Then where was the present Eden?

Where was Aiden now?

* * *

Meanwhile, Aiden had finally discovered why he had absolutely no memory of the gate.

“What is this…”

A youthful voice escaped his lips.

It was baffling. Sure, holding Jaeha’s hand and stepping into the gate had gone as planned. Even after entering, Aiden had assumed the person beside him was Jaeha, since their hands were joined.

Though his field of vision felt strangely low… and the hand he held felt oddly shaped and large… honestly, who would ever—

“It’s going to be alright. Everything will be alright…”

“…”

Who would ever expect that upon regaining awareness, they’d find themselves seven years old again…?