AAGULT Ch 67

Chapter 67

“It seems they didn’t think pain was necessary for work.”

“The Association’s always been like that.”

It wasn’t the doctor, busy packing his things, who responded to Baek Beomwoo’s remark, but the large, middle-aged man standing behind him.

Though reform had supposedly wiped it out, the Association had once recruited orphans and thrust them into dirty work. The Espers known to the public wore flashy clothes and entered gates, but Baek Beomwoo had never once entered a gate. What he killed was almost always human—not monsters.

Perhaps they were afraid the gifted orphan they’d picked up would freeze in fear and fail to fight, or perhaps they were concerned he’d suffer from the pain of distorted energy due to a lack of guiding. Whatever it was, the Association had used him thoroughly and efficiently. They didn’t forget to make him use his abilities on himself—and on the Galgkama Unit—for that purpose.

First, Baek Beomwoo could no longer feel pain or taste.

Second, he couldn’t use his abilities on individuals designated by the Association at the time.

The only consolation was that he still retained his sense of smell and a very dull sense of touch. In truth, he had nearly lost those too, but given how crucial they were to mission success rates, those senses had been spared in the end.

The middle-aged man who had been standing behind him now stepped forward and lit the cigarette that hung from Baek Beomwoo’s lips. Meanwhile, the youthful Esper standing nearby kept glancing nervously at Baek Beomwoo. At a loss for what to do, he began to raise his hand uncertainly, but the older man subtly shook his head to stop him. The young Esper, Eunyul, immediately lowered his arm with disciplined precision, eyes cast down as he bit his lips.

“Eunyul.”

“Y-Yes!”

Eunyul flinched at the sound of his name and snapped his head up.

“How’s Jaeha?”

“Ah…”

Baek Beomwoo accepted such deference as if it were natural and posed his question to the tense, rigid Eunyul. Perhaps because he had resisted aggressively when apprehended, the marks of the Esper-specific suppression cuffs still lingered on his wrists.

“T-That is…”

“They were kept strictly separated. I doubt they met.”

The one who answered wasn’t the flustered young man, but the large man who had lit the cigarette. He had long since grown accustomed to serving Baek Beomwoo. His volunteering to guide Eunyul and Jaeha had also been part of that.

Baek Beomwoo inhaled from the slowly smoldering cigarette and exhaled as he leaned against the chair, his gaze drifting upward toward the ceiling in silence.

“Jaeha is doing fine. He received proper treatment.”

“I see.”

“It appears both of Jaeha’s parents were registered members of the Association, so… concealing that was impossible from the start. He’s now cooperating with an Esper to recover his memories.”

Ido couldn’t begin to guess what thoughts occupied the man smoking wordlessly and staring into the air. His expression was steeped in deep apathy. Though Baek Beomwoo gave no response, Ido began reporting slowly, knowing full well the weight behind that silence.

“The Association suspects that letting Jaeha be captured by the organization was your doing—that it stems from your resentment toward them.”

In truth, Ido harbored similar suspicions. So he carefully watched the man’s reaction, wondering whether his theory was correct. Not that it would affect his loyalty—no matter what the truth was.

Though Baek Beomwoo surely felt that gaze studying his profile, he offered no response. If anything, he looked utterly indifferent and bored.

Wordlessly, he brought the cigarette back to his lips and, with his other hand, dismissed the physician still trembling in the corner. Despite having already packed all the diagnostic tools, the doctor had remained frozen in the room, unsure of what to do. Only then did he bow and leave.

With a soft thud of the door closing, Ido continued his report.

“On the contrary, it seems the Association is now trying to recruit Jaeha. The Guide Association even sent over an official document regarding compatibility testing.”

“Is that so.”

“Shall we proceed?”

“As you see fit.”

“…”

So it didn’t matter to him whether Ido got involved or not. Ido fiddled with his lighter behind his back and fell into brief contemplation. He summoned an image of the boy in question—Song Jaeha.

What he had seen was a pale young man, slightly gaunt from hospitalization, with a shadowed expression. When he smiled, however, his features softened, making him a curious presence.

He was a good person. Despite years of pressure within a criminal organization, his nature hadn’t warped, nor had he mentally collapsed. Ido couldn’t help thinking that if they had met under different circumstances, he might’ve come to cherish the young man.

At that moment, the lips of the man who had remained silent finally parted.

“Eunyul, go get some rest.”

“Yes…”

It must’ve been exhausting to continue enduring the tense atmosphere. Eunyul hesitated, then opened the door. When he glanced back once more, Ido nodded at him. Ido had been the one who used the excuse of guiding to make time, who had released the cuffs, and who had helped Eunyul relocate to Baek Beomwoo’s side.

“I’ll return soon.”

It was only about an hour’s grace anyway—he’d need to return to the Association in thirty minutes. Offering quiet reassurance, Ido watched the young Esper exit with a slightly more relaxed face.

Left alone in the room, Baek Beomwoo spoke.

“They weren’t wrong.”

“What wasn’t…”

“I do want Jaeha to hate the Association.”

Ido recalled the first time he met him. Eleven years old, newly joined to the Galgkama Unit. Even back then, the boy acted like an old man. Though he was a child in need of care and protection, he maintained a world-weary attitude as if he’d experienced everything already—an unforgettable impression.

Given what he’d endured, it would be no surprise if he resented the Association. Still, Baek Beomwoo wasn’t the type to impose his grudges on those he cared about with petty ultimatums like “I hate them, so you should too.” That’s why it was puzzling.

The thought crossed Ido’s mind: Is Baek Beomwoo… human after all? Just then, Baek Beomwoo’s voice rang out again.

“Still, while the Association plays at memory-recovery games, we’ve got work to do.”

In that instant, all his doubts were cleared. Ido exhaled lightly in realization.

“The ability-suppressant is nearly complete. Annoying as it is, we never administered a finalized version, so Jaeha was bound to require professional treatment for the side effects eventually. That side’s medical tech is superior anyway. Think of it as an after-sales service.”

“Yes, sir…”

He shifted his gaze as he replied—treatment, for Song Jaeha.

It was almost comical that the Association had become a mere tool for treating one person. Apparently, they didn’t want Song Jaeha to acquire a permanent disability. If that was the case, they should’ve waited for the drug’s completion before administering it. Was there some other reason?

Even if they’d been giving him increasingly refined versions of the suppressant, it was still unfinished, and side effects were unavoidable. Ye Aiden would certainly push for Jaeha’s treatment—he was the only subject who hadn’t completely lost his abilities or his life. The Association couldn’t help but focus on him. Under the pretense of creating an antidote, they would circle around him.

And while they foolishly dug into Song Jaeha, hoping that Baek Beomwoo’s ultimate goal lay hidden within him, Baek Beomwoo would silently continue his work.

“Contact Hanla and increase support to the B-1 Sector lab. I’ll order them to hand over two completed doses as soon as they’re ready. Administer one to Jaeha as you see fit.”

Hanla—a massive Korean conglomerate, officially reputable but unofficially amassing astronomical wealth through shadowy gate-related ventures. Personally, Ido disliked Hanla. Still, he had no objection to using them. What mattered now was not his feelings toward Hanla but the next words to come from Baek Beomwoo’s mouth.

“And the other one…”

“You said you wanted it, didn’t you?”

“…”

Ido fell silent. But the thudding of his heart, brimming with long-held anticipation and excitement, was impossible to hide. The corners of his lips slowly curled upward.

“…Thank you.”

“Mm.”

With that concise reply, Baek Beomwoo extinguished the cigarette with his fingers, pressing it between them. Even then, instead of sharp pain or searing agony, what he felt was a dull, warm pressure.

“…”

It wouldn’t be long now.

It felt like the end of this long journey was finally in sight.