Chapter 88: What Must Be Done

“I have something I need to do.”

“Then go ahead.”

After much deliberation, Park Sujin finally spoke with resolve, only for Yoo Heero to respond without the slightest hesitation or lingering attachment.

It was as good as saying: Do whatever you want, just don’t involve me.
Park Sujin’s expression darkened.

In truth, he had never planned to drag Yoo Heero into this from the beginning. If anything, he had gone out of his way to make sure it never reached his ears.

But the moment they crossed paths at the Hunter Association, his plans were already as good as ruined. The shameless behavior of the Association president, the inhumane tyranny of the research institute, and the irresponsible evasions of those involved—everything was spiraling steadily in the worst possible direction.

“There will be another victim.”

“…….”

“And soon. We don’t have much time.”

He was investigating as thoroughly as he could, but given how closed-off everything was, there were clear limits to what an outsider could uncover.

Even so, one conclusion was impossible to ignore:
the so-called second project—which the Association president had mentioned almost like a threat—had already begun.

It has to be stopped.

It was an experiment built on incomplete memories. Even the first attempt had required countless trials and errors—there was no way this one could succeed.

But they had already seen a successful result once. They would never give up. No matter how many people were harmed, they would turn a blind eye, driven solely by the obsession of creating a second Yoo Heero.

They were exactly that kind of people.

“I need your help.”

“Hah…”

Yoo Heero let out an irritated sigh. His reaction was as cold and cynical as ever.

“Why is everyone so desperate to get my help? At your age, shouldn’t you know better than to handle your own problems?”

Despite the biting sarcasm, Park Sujin didn’t flinch. If he were the type to be shaken by words like that, he would never have started in the first place.

He had already resolved to see this through himself, no matter the cost.

“I’m not trying to burden you. Anything I could do alone, I already have.”

There was only one thing Park Sujin wanted from Yoo Heero.

For him to cooperate with the Hunter Association.

Still, Yoo Heero didn’t respond. He didn’t even bother looking at Park Sujin anymore, as if answering itself were too much trouble.

“It’s what he wanted.”

“…….”

Yoo Heero turned his head. His gaze was calm, sunk deep beneath the surface. There was no visible agitation.

“And it’s my long-held wish as well.”

Park Sujin knew he was being cowardly. But he didn’t know any other way to shake Yoo Heero.

“You know what he was trying to do until the very end.”

“…….”

“I have to bring it to a close. I believe that’s how I atone to him—and how I do right by you.”

“Doing it for my sake?” Yoo Heero’s voice hardened. “You seem like the type who decides and judges everything on your own.”

His irritation was unmistakable now. His patience was wearing thin.
If Park Sujin hadn’t been close to Sung Jiwoo, he would have been thrown out immediately.

“I know about the side effects of your experiment.”

At last, Park Sujin exposed the bottom of his despair, his face contorted with anguish. Inside it lay the truth that had haunted him for his entire life.

“I tried to make a treatment on my own, but there’s only so much medication an individual can get their hands on.”

“…….”

“I couldn’t make a cure. But I do have something that can delay the side effects as much as possible. It hasn’t gone through clinical trials or anything—but there’s a capable craftsman in our guild. He verified it. You can trust that much.”

“Ha. This is f*cking ridiculous.”
Yoo Heero looked at Park Sujin with undisguised hatred.
“You think I’m funny because I’m an experiment subject?”

Who do you think made me like this?

In Yoo Heero’s eyes, Park Sujin was no different from the Hunter Association president.

“There are no conditions. I was going to give it to you regardless. This isn’t blackmail.”

Park Sujin spoke earnestly.

“It’s a request.”

“Dragging up the dead and talking about side effects—now that’s something.”

“Exactly. That’s why I have no choice but to do this.”

Their opinions clashed head-on. With values so fundamentally different, the two could never truly understand each other.

“Just because you cover it up doesn’t mean it never happened.”

“And digging it up won’t solve anything either.”
Yoo Heero twisted one corner of his mouth upward.
“My world already ended once.”

No matter how much one struggled now to set things right, nothing would change. Yoo Jieun was gone. He had destroyed the world once. Then, in a life newly given to him, he met Sung Jiwoo.

He didn’t want to ruin anything.

He wanted to stay by Sung Jiwoo’s side, happy, as if nothing had ever happened.

“You can’t undo the past,” Park Sujin pleaded, “but you can stop what’s about to happen.”

Back then, he couldn’t act. But maybe now he could.
And if there was even a one-percent chance, he had to stake everything on it.

If failing to confront the past led to an even greater tragedy in the future, he would never forgive himself. He had already delayed this long enough.

Park Sujin was desperate.

“So please—”

Click.

At that moment, the bathroom door opened.

“Oh—did you come by?”

Sung Jiwoo greeted Park Sujin naturally. Yoo Heero and Park Sujin instinctively put some distance between each other. Jiwoo stepped out, rubbing his hair with a towel. It was already mostly dry.

“I thought I heard voices earlier. What were you talking about? Do you two know each other?”

“No. We don’t.”

Jiwoo had asked Park Sujin, but the answer came from Yoo Heero instead. Jiwoo looked up at him. Yoo Heero met his gaze squarely—there wasn’t a trace of deceit in his eyes.

“We didn’t talk about anything. He just came to drop that off.”

Park Sujin pointed toward a heavy-looking sack. It seemed he had brought what Jiwoo had requested.

“Oh, you found them faster than I expected. Thank you.”

“I got lucky at an auction not long ago.”

“Really, thanks. But… did you have something else to say?”

Usually, when Jiwoo wasn’t around, Park Sujin would just leave the items behind. The fact that he’d waited made Jiwoo think there had to be a reason.

“Huh? No… not really. I delivered the goods, so I’ll get going.”

Flustered, Park Sujin hurried out of the shop. Once he was gone, Jiwoo calmly resumed drying his hair.

Yoo Heero, just as naturally, stepped closer.

“Can I dry it for you?”

“You?”

“Yes. I want to.”

“…Alright, then.”

Jiwoo handed him the hair dryer. The noisy hum of the machine filled the space between them.

Jiwoo was certain of one thing.
While showering, he had heard raised voices outside. He couldn’t catch every word—the door and distance made that impossible—but he could tell Park Sujin had been getting heated.

He hadn’t imagined it.

When the voices grew louder, Jiwoo had opened the door—and at that exact moment, the two of them had stopped talking as if nothing had happened.

Sensing the strange atmosphere, Jiwoo had instinctively shifted gears and greeted Park Sujin casually. It felt like something he had to do.

But he wanted to know.
What were they talking about?

Why had they both insisted it was nothing—and claimed they didn’t even know each other?

There was no reason to lie.
Unless it was something he wasn’t meant to hear.

But why?

Jiwoo couldn’t make sense of it.

“It’s what he wanted.”

He.

Who was he?
The way Park Sujin said it, it referred to someone both of them knew.

But it couldn’t be Jiwoo.
And it wasn’t a mutual acquaintance either.

Had Yoo Heero and Park Sujin known each other before?

But how? There was no overlap between them.

Then a possibility flashed through Jiwoo’s mind.
Come to think of it, he never knew which guild Yoo Heero had interned with in his senior year of high school.

If it had been Knocker…

When the dryer paused for a moment, Jiwoo asked,

“When you were in your senior year, which guild did you intern with?”

“…Why?”

“I was just wondering if you had any connection to Knocker.”

“…No. It was the System Guild.”

“Oh. Well, with your skills, I guess that makes sense.”

In truth, while Yoo Heero had been assigned to the System Guild as an intern, he hadn’t participated diligently. Nothing memorable had happened.

Back then, he firmly believed Jiwoo was still inside the X-Gate. All he did was wait desperately for graduation to come as soon as possible.

Memories from the time Jiwoo was gone felt faint, as though he had erased them on purpose. The only thing that sustained him was a single conviction:
If I ever meet him again, I’ll never let go.

Yoo Heero gently ruffled Jiwoo’s hair again, resuming his work. His gaze was fixed on Jiwoo’s reflection in the mirror.

Meanwhile, Jiwoo’s thoughts only grew more tangled.

If it wasn’t through an internship, there was no point of contact between the two.
And after “that person,” Park Sujin had mentioned something about side effects.

“Side effects…”

“Hm? What did you say?”

As Jiwoo murmured unconsciously, Yoo Heero stopped the dryer. Jiwoo shook his head awkwardly.

“No, nothing…”

Jiwoo’s hair slipped softly through Yoo Heero’s fingers.

“Hyung.”

“Yeah?”

“…Did you hear anything earlier, from the bathroom?”

Jiwoo lifted his head. Their eyes met in the mirror.

Yoo Heero was smiling as usual—but his gaze was strangely cold.

An unidentifiable tension filled the air.