Chapter 156

“That was really fun. Thanks for participating so hard, everyone!”

“……”

In an all-white space, the boss spread both arms as if offering congratulations.

No one answered; they only watched in tense silence. The number of people—once around twenty—had grown, as those previously swallowed by the “void” now stood scattered around, bewildered and looking about. Thankfully, they were all alive… though more than a few looked far from mentally whole.

Without borrowing someone’s body, the boss was—by any eye—no human. The silhouette might have been humanoid, but it easily exceeded five meters in height, forcing heads to crane back just to glimpse the face.

Yet the outline was thin like a bare skeleton, the surface smooth yet irregularly cracked, as if assembled from shards of glass. In the fissures seeped a depthless darkness no one could gauge, and from those gaps lightning-like flashes flickered intermittently. In short, it looked like a colossal, cracked statue that grotesquely contained the cosmos.

Unlike when he hid inside Sasha the esper’s body, the instant one took in that form, an indescribable revulsion seeped in.

So came the thought: If they had faced it head-on—fought rather than “played”—they would truly have stood no chance.

“Well… not going to drag this out like an award-acceptance speech.”

Everyone was exhausted, but at the sight of that form, tension coiled again.

“It was super fun. Now hurry home. I’m going to sleep.”

For all that tension, he seemed inclined to let them go.

He extended both arms, and a gate entrance opened on either side. Both shone white, as if to prove both gates had been cleared.

“Okay, one at a time. Left is the Past Team, right is the Future Team. I’m opening two at once, so only one can go out every five minutes—go when I call your name.”

With sudden, palpable boredom, he swished a hand through the air. The face couldn’t be seen, but the whole body radiated it. Something popped into being in the empty air—a sheet of paper resembling a roll call.

“Park Dong-sik.”

“……”

What now. Were they actually going home? One person every five minutes meant it would take a while. With well over fifty present at a glance, it would be five or six hours at least.

And the first name called—was the general team leader. He had been beside Baek Beomwoo, holding him firmly under watch.

All eyes shifted to the team leader. No longer the youthful face they’d grown used to for a while in here—like Aiden, he had returned to his real age. He frowned, glancing at Baek Beomwoo, then at the esper helping restrain him. He was plainly worried.

“Should I go now?”

“If you don’t want to go, stay here.”

“…Is switching the order impossible?”

“It’s either now, or you and I live here together, cozily.”

Aing—Was that a proposal? The boss framed his face with his hands like a flower. Everyone, of course, ignored him.

“Tch…”

The one who had always been a pillar to lean on had to go first; of course they worried. They would have to endure five or six hours without him. But there was no choice. Refuse now, and be trapped in the gate.

“…I’ll wait outside, everyone. You all worked hard to clear it.”

“Team leader…”

“Esper Choi Mi-ae, and Esper Lee Ri-on. Watch Baek Beomwoo and Seo Tae-geon as long as you can.”

“Yes.”

Sighing, the team leader finally handed Baek Beomwoo to Esper Choi Mi-ae. He glanced between the two gates, then asked the boss:

“…Which one should I go through?”

“Huh? Ah—you’re one of the ‘overlapped’ ones.”

Right—Jaeha glanced instinctively at Aiden at his side; Aiden, feeling the look, turned toward him. Jaeha, anxious, pinched Aiden’s sleeve lightly.

“You want to leave according to when you entered, right? Go as you are now.”

“…So, I go to the Future side?”

“Yup. Off you go.”

The boss flapped his hand in a wave. The team leader swept his eyes over the people once more, then slowly stepped into the right-hand gate. As he passed through, the white shimmered.

“…Aiden-ssi, it looks like you should go right as well.”

“Seems so.”

Worried at the thought he might pass through before Aiden, Jaeha scanned his injuries. Was there a healer esper anywhere? Should he fetch one?

“I’ll… call a healer esper.”

“No, Jaeha-ssi.”

As Jaeha sprang up, Aiden stopped him with a hand. Jaeha looked down at him.

Aiden’s appearance—no surprise—was far from neat after rolling and being injured in the gate. Yet in Jaeha’s eyes, he was beautiful still. Perhaps from lingering pain, the smile wasn’t bright, but calm and faint. He pinched his nose bridge slightly. Jaeha wanted to cup his cheek, but Aiden held his hand, keeping it still.

“What you should do right now isn’t taking care of me.”

“…Then what?”

Aiden tipped his head silently, directing his gaze elsewhere. Jaeha followed it.

And there—

“…Jaeha.”

“……”

His father stood, watching for a moment to speak. Only then did Jaeha understand Aiden’s meaning.

“Go say hello.”

“……”

“And think about what I told you before.”

Half-standing awkwardly, Jaeha faced his father as he approached. Aiden let go, and Jaeha stood straight.

“Can we… talk for a moment?”

Meanwhile, another name was called and someone crossed the gate. A chill pricked him at last. Yes—his father could be called at any moment. Even next. And then Jaeha might never see him again.

…Because he had left his father’s side.

He didn’t regret the choice—but guilt was unavoidable. Jaeha nodded.

“…Aiden-ssi, I’ll be back. I’ll… fetch a healer esper on the way…”

“I’ll handle it. Don’t worry too much. I’ll wait here quietly.”

“……”

Jaeha chewed the inside of his cheek, then found no more words. He pulled his gaze from Aiden and followed his father slowly.

Even in an empty space, distance meant little—but they didn’t want anyone to hear. When they reached the edge, his father turned to him.

“……”

His expression was complicated. Then he reached out first and patted Jaeha’s shoulder.

“First… you did really well, son.”

“……”

“It’s a relief—you cleared it. I’m sorry I couldn’t help as your father.”

“No, Father…”

As he pinched his brow, face apologetic, Jaeha spoke quickly. The face of the middle-aged man wavered before his eyes.

“You know I’m always on your side. If it’s not trouble you caused, it’s fine. I’ll make something work.”

In the end, Jaeha had left without even a proper goodbye. Having betrayed him already, he couldn’t accept his apology. His throat tightened; he shut his mouth. He didn’t want to cry mid-sentence. He steadied his breath, then spoke, slowly.

“Father. There’s something I have to tell you. The truth is…”

Aiden had been right. Even if Kwon I-do’s guiding failed, that didn’t mean his father would also fail. His father would be killed two years after leaving this gate; Jaeha had to warn him, to give him a chance to avoid it.

“No, Jaeha.”

“……”

But his father cut in first. He smiled quietly, with a firm, grave face, and squeezed Jaeha’s shoulder, drawing him gently close. Jaeha didn’t resist, and leaned in; his father embraced him.

“……”

He patted Jaeha’s back. Though their bodies were of similar age now, his embrace felt spacious and safe. Resting his chin on Jaeha’s shoulder, he let out a breath tinged with laughter.

“You’ve grown well… even without me.”

“……”

“Grown strong…”

Jaeha stiffened in that embrace. So—he knew. And he accepted it so calmly. Jaeha blurted, urgent:

“Father.”

“Don’t do anything too dangerous. Live well.”

“Father.”

Jaeha pushed him away, needing to see his face.

“Father, listen to me. When we leave this gate, the younger me will say strange things. Ignore them. And in two years—”

“Jaeha. You don’t have to say it.”

Again, firmly, he cut him off. As if he knew everything already, his face was unshakeable.

“I already know my future.”

And that answer was more than enough to break Jaeha’s heart.