AAGULT Ch 26

Chapter 26

 

The gun muzzle pressed down hard on his tongue. His jaw opened, and unswallowed saliva slightly dribbled out. The muzzle slowly twisted. As the mucous membrane was pressed and scraped, a squelching sound came out.

“Where’d you learn to be so cunning.”

He could feel the slightest tremor as the man placed his finger on the trigger. Like someone waiting for a procedure at the dentist, he trembled, tense, pressing his head hard against the man’s knee. The man let out a long, languid breath as if soothing a child. But since the sound came from the one who had shoved a gun down his throat, it brought no comfort.

There was a one in six chance. He’d done this before, and he survived then too.

The chances of survival were high enough. But Jaeha was a cowardly and dull bastard, so he resorted to trickery to avoid even that small risk.

“Ugh, ugh…”

The signal came. It wasn’t the dry heaving caused by the gun being shoved deep into his throat—this was a different kind of retching. This time, he didn’t try to swallow it back down or push it back inside. It was thanks to forcing suppressants into his body despite the side effects. A sharp, hot pain climbed up his esophagus.

Just before he pulled the trigger,

“……”

He retched.

And vomited blood.

At that moment, the finger pulling the trigger stopped.

“……”

As expected. That man always backed off when Jaeha acted pitiful or weak. He was someone who pretended not to care but cared deeply. He was someone who considered Jaeha’s physical state before punishing him. He was… a kind person, in his own way.

His mind, his senses, and his emotions gradually faded to grayscale.

Jaeha realized he had survived again.

This time too, somehow—cowardly.

“It’s a side effect caused by a lack of guiding and the overuse of suppressants.”

The live-in doctor said this the moment he entered the room and saw the blood Jaeha had coughed up, squeezing his eyes shut.

“I was going to report it, but actually, last time too…”

He was also afraid of the boss. Even though he had warned him, he was about to get caught because of it. No wonder his vision went dark.

The doctor held back a sigh. Opening his eyes again, he shot Jaeha a slight glare. Jaeha pretended not to notice and remained stiffly kneeling beside the boss, resting his head against his leg.

“So.”

“……”

The boss brushed Jaeha’s hair back with his fingers. It resembled a gesture of affection toward a pet. His sweat-dampened hair slid easily back. A cold, thick hand patted Jaeha’s head, as if gently soothing him. But it didn’t feel gentle at all.

Smoke escaped from between his lips. Holding a half-finished cigarette between his fingers, the man extended it toward Jaeha. Trained by experience, Jaeha instinctively cupped his hands together and held them out. Sssss. The cigarette was snuffed out in his palm. Jaeha endured the pain with a pale face.

“It’ll be difficult, but you should stop the medication and start guiding gradually—”

“—Jaeha did something so commendable.”

“……”

The doctor’s expression twisted slightly. He was competent and principled, which was all well and good, but sometimes he had a hard time managing his expressions. When Jaeha glanced at him, he quickly composed himself.

“Ha.”

The boss lowered his head slightly and laughed heartily. His lips curled widely, revealing straight white teeth. It was the loudest laugh Jaeha had heard from him in a while. Jaeha hadn’t seen him laugh often, so he hadn’t known—the boss had dimples when he smiled. The muscles in his jaw stood out, and veins bulged.

He stroked Jaeha’s head again, and Jaeha silently accepted it.

“As you know, doctor, my body isn’t in perfect condition.”

“……”

“I make mistakes sometimes.”

He spoke cryptically to the doctor. With his eyes closed, smiling as he continued, he looked genuinely pleased.

The doctor, failing to mask his reaction, looked visibly disturbed.

Jaeha, in a daze, tried to understand his words. Maybe he’d overdosed—his vision kept blurring and clearing. Even staying still, his pupils dilated and contracted irregularly. Objectively, he was clearly not in a normal state.

Even so, the information stood out enough to sink into his ears. His body isn’t in perfect condition—what did that mean?

Did it mean the boss had health issues? Jaeha had assumed he’d “read” his guiding, but maybe that wasn’t it. Maybe he just sensed something odd. Then… did that mean he hadn’t been found out? His mind grew tangled.

He rolled his eyes and looked at the man. Since he wasn’t looking at Jaeha but at the doctor, all Jaeha could see was the back of his neck and his strong jaw. The corners of his lips seemed faintly upturned.

“Just make sure he doesn’t die.”

“Yes…”

Jaeha’s fate was decided right in front of him.

The hand that had been stroking his head suddenly gripped the back of his neck. Jaeha tilted his head up as guided by that hand. The man leaned down. The difference in build was so great, it was hard to believe they were both Espers. His shadow loomed over Jaeha like it was about to devour him.

He was smiling.

“Jaeha.”

“Yes…”

Still seated, he turned his body and leaned in, looking directly into Jaeha’s eyes. They were so close their noses almost brushed, and Jaeha instinctively held his breath from the tension. The grip on his neck was tight, so he couldn’t pull away. A chill crept down the back of his neck.

“……”

His black eyes came into view. Like glass, they reflected Jaeha. His brow furrowed slightly. Jaeha had no idea what he wanted.

As always, he became curious about what the man was thinking, and narrowed his brows. Like looking into a glass orb, his confused expression and teal eyes were reflected clearly.

[…….]

No sound could be heard. As always, he was the only one Jaeha couldn’t read.

“Good boy.”

“……”

And in that moment, the man praised him. Jaeha didn’t know what for. Still, he wasn’t foolish enough to ask, “For what?” He simply kept his mouth shut and felt grateful that the man seemed to be in a good mood.

“Tell Manager Kang to leave another box.”

“……”

“Wait here quietly until I come back.”

“Y-yes…”

He answered nervously, afraid even the slightest delay would upset him. Only then did the man release his neck. The excessive closeness dissipated. The winter-like chill, thick with fear, scattered and drifted away.

The man who had filled the small room with suffocating pressure stood and walked out without looking back.

That was it.

sorry i dont think we can meet anymore

“……”

Aiden stared at the message indifferently. His long legs were sprawled lazily over the desk, and he slouched back in the chair, looking quite composed for someone who had just been stood up and dumped via text.

Moreover, the fact that the desk and chair belonged to the Chairman of the Esper Association of South Korea didn’t seem to matter to him at all.

“Are you listening, Guide-ssi?”

“Yeah.”

“We just received contact from a guide who had been undercover. This is their report. Apparently, they managed to smuggle out an illegal suppressant, too… You should take a look.”

The secretary, standing politely beside him, handed the report to Aiden, who reluctantly put down his phone and took the tablet. He skimmed it casually and yawned.

“Forget this. What about what I asked?”

“…Did you even read it properly?”

“Mostly.”

“Sigh…”

The Chairman of the Esper Association let out a long sigh. But there was no winning against South Korea’s most unmanageable guide. He gestured again, and the secretary opened another screen on a different tablet, manipulating a few controls until a large screen on the wall lit up. A profile appeared, with a large photo on the left.

It looked like a photo from when he got his ID—an obviously young face fresh into adulthood, with a pale complexion. Even so, his bold features and striking looks stood out. Unlike now, his expression wasn’t very pleasant. Anxiety and fear about the future were etched into that face, giving it a sharp look.

“Song Jaeha. He’s 26 this year.”

The secretary pressed a button, and the screen changed.

“According to the report, at least an A. With proper guiding and wave stabilization, he could potentially reach S-rank as a psychic-type Esper.”

“Tsk.”

He clicked his tongue. Psychic-type Espers were extremely rare. For some reason, a rumor had spread that they were weak, but in fact, they were crucial talent for South Korea. The country ranked quite low globally in the number of psychic Espers it had.

“He grew up in Joy Orphanage in XX District, Seoul, and left at 18. Then, he was scammed by Park Seohyeong, a fellow orphanage alumnus, and ended up with Baek Beomwoo.”

The screen quickly shifted. The profile and photo of a person named Park Seohyeong appeared.

“Was it Baek Beomwoo’s intention?”

“Yes. According to our investigation, about a week before Song Jaeha left the orphanage, someone connected to Baek Beomwoo made contact with Park Seohyeong. After contacting Song Jaeha, Park Seohyeong has been missing ever since.”

“…Maybe they predicted he’d awaken as an Esper and approached him.”

The Chairman frowned slightly and sighed. While he looked troubled, Aiden simply rested his chin on his hand and stared at the screen. More precisely, at the frightened young man’s face.