Chapter 11: Where No One Boards

“Lee So-won.”

Just as So-won was about to flee in a fluster, like a malfunctioning machine, Tae-woo stopped him.

So-won had been hurrying away as if escaping, yet the moment Tae-woo called his name, he froze.

The low voice, heavy with weight, called out to him—there was no way his legs could keep moving.

“I’ll escort you.”

“…Pardon?”

So-won was visibly startled.

It was almost impressive how quickly his complexion changed—his face, which had been flushed red like a radish moments ago, now drained completely pale.

Before So-won could even respond, Tae-woo was already moving as if to follow him out.

At this rate, it looked like he truly intended to take him all the way home.

Panicking, So-won blurted out,

“Isn’t it still your work hours?”

“I can clock out now.”

The answer came immediately.

Not knowing Tae-woo’s usual schedule, So-won had no way of verifying whether that was true.

His mouth opened, then closed again, unable to find a counterargument.

In the end, So-won left the private room together with Tae-woo.

In the quiet hallway, Tae-woo’s heavy dress shoes and So-won’s light footsteps echoed out of sync—tap, thud, tap, thud.

So-won tried desperately not to let his gaze drift toward Tae-woo walking beside him.

Yet the constant pressure of Tae-woo’s wavelength made it impossible to forget that he was right there.

They waited in awkward silence for an elevator that felt slower than a turtle.

When it finally arrived at the tenth floor, the cabin was empty.

As Tae-woo stepped inside, the elevator—once thought spacious—suddenly looked cramped.

So-won boarded with the grim feeling of being led to a slaughterhouse.

The doors closed slowly, sealing him inside with Tae-woo alone, and So-won’s expression turned downright tragic.

If I’d known I’d fall asleep leaning on Tae-woo, I would’ve forced myself to stay awake…

Hiding behind Tae-woo’s broad back, So-won clutched his hair in silent agony.

Every time his eyes landed on Tae-woo’s arm, the memory of resting his head there resurfaced, making his face burn.

He decided this situation was simply karma coming back to bite him.

The elevator, descending toward the underground parking lot, suddenly stopped midway.

To So-won, it felt like a blessing.

If someone—anyone—other than Tae-woo got on, maybe he could forget that unbearably embarrassing memory, even for a moment.

The more people, the better.

Completely hidden behind Tae-woo’s body, So-won craned his neck forward with a desperate look.

When the doors opened, an Association employee stood outside.

It was only one person—not ideal—but So-won was still relieved.

The employee, eyes glued to his phone, stepped forward without looking up.

The moment his foot touched the elevator floor, a chill ran up his spine.

A cold sensation crawled upward from the soles of his feet.

Frowning, the employee lifted his gaze from the phone—

—and came face to face with a towering monster staring down at him.

“—Hk!”

The employee went deathly pale and staggered backward in shock.

His face drained blue as fear overtook him.

One foot, which had already stepped inside where the monster stood, hurriedly retreated, but even then, he continued backing away, terrified by Tae-woo’s grotesque appearance.

He had seen it before.

Tae-woo on the verge of rampaging, having lost all reason, attacking people.

All it took was a single swing of his arm—and the Esper who had rushed in to subdue him burst open like an overfilled plastic bag, splatter, blood spraying everywhere.

After countless struggles, the Esper Rampage Response Team had finally managed to calm Tae-woo and drag him back to the center.

By then, the area was already soaked with blood and littered with the injured.

It was an old incident, yet the image remained vivid even now.

The employee’s terrified eyes darted wildly, as though he might foam at the mouth and faint at any second.

In the end, the doors slowly closed without anyone boarding.

Even after that, the elevator continued to stop at various floors.

With each opening of the doors, So-won watched the faces of those who encountered Tae-woo—and with each one, his gaze grew darker.

People who had been perfectly fine a moment earlier failed to hide their fear, terror, and disgust once they saw Tae-woo.

The doors opened again and again on the way down, yet no one attempted to get on.

The reactions were horrifyingly identical.

So-won couldn’t say a word.

It felt like he was catching a brief glimpse into the life Tae-woo had lived.

A monster.

He was a walking monster.

Even as a dark crimson curse gnawed away at his body, he was always the first dispatched when dangerous gates opened.

Day and night, he protected people’s safety.

And yet, the one who risked his life fighting the real monsters beyond the gates was Tae-woo.

People who had never even met him feared him.

Everyone he crossed paths with treated him like some horrific creature.

The media was quick to label him a monster and hurl abuse, and the state looked on without intervening.

Even his one and only Guide was no different from the rest.

Realizing that he himself had once been among those people, So-won couldn’t hold his head up.

Memories of how he’d treated Tae-woo surfaced one by one, dragging him deeper into despair.

The guilt he’d forgotten seized his ankles and slowly crept upward.

His body felt unbearably heavy.

He wanted to close his eyes and never open them again.

So-won felt like he could believe it now—
that this place was hell.

A hell where the person who caused Tae-woo’s death came to understand everything.

Only when they reached the empty parking lot could So-won finally breathe.

Even though he knew those looks were aimed at Tae-woo, it felt as if they were directed at him as well, suffocating him.

Thinking of Tae-woo, who had endured those stares his entire life, made So-won’s heart throb painfully.

He had only experienced it briefly—just a fraction—yet his chest pounded uneasily, and the ground beneath his feet felt unsteady.

After being subjected to one-sided hatred, his body trembled.

His legs nearly gave out, his steps faltering.

Yet Tae-woo, who had shielded him from those stares, looked completely unaffected.

That made it hurt even more.

Biting his lip hard, So-won followed Tae-woo with a heavy heart—and was met by a memory from the past.

A familiar sedan greeted him.

The black sedan that would sometimes be parked in the yard whenever Tae-woo returned home.

Tae-woo’s car changed often.

There was no fixed cycle, but each new design felt uncannily aligned with So-won’s taste.

Every time, So-won had memorized the brand and model.

A deep black, polished to a rich sheen.

A large sedan—large, like Tae-woo, perfectly suited to him.

It was the very first sedan in So-won’s memories.

“Please get in.”

From the way the door opened, the luxury foreign car felt oddly familiar—almost welcoming.

Letting his strengthless body sink into the seat, So-won finally felt like he could breathe again.

As Tae-woo started the engine, he checked on So-won’s condition.

He’d forcibly brought him along, uneasy about sending him off alone while he was exhausted from guiding in fear—but seeing how pale So-won looked made him feel apologetic.

Even while watching So-won tremble in fear at the sight of him, his body felt content just having So-won nearby.

How disgusting, he thought.

“Please tell me your address.”

“If you could take me to Mirae Apartments in Sindorim… I really could go alone—”

“I’ll depart now.”

Tae-woo gave So-won no chance to get out.

The car pulled away in a hurry.

In truth, it was a relief that Tae-woo pretended not to hear the rest.

Only then did So-won realize that his legs had gone completely weak and wouldn’t move.

“…Okay.”

So-won replied a beat late.

His small murmur might not have even reached Tae-woo, seated right beside him in the passenger seat.

There was no sense of the wheels turning, yet the scenery outside flowed past smoothly.

The plush seat felt as though it had been made for his body.

As he relaxed, the trembling that hadn’t stopped until now slowly faded.

Still, his heart remained unsettled.

So-won couldn’t forget the looks people had given Tae-woo.

If So-won had been the one driving, he was certain he would’ve caused an accident in his turmoil.

Yet Tae-woo drove calmly, smoothly—like someone long accustomed to such reactions.

Tae-woo… are you really okay?

He wanted to ask.

But So-won didn’t even have the right to worry about him.

Until recently, he’d been just like them.

He still remembered exactly what kind of expression he’d worn whenever he saw Tae-woo.

Compared to those trembling in fear, his past self had looked even worse—
a face steeped in disgust and terror, as though staring at something that should never be seen.

In a world that saw him as a monster, Tae-woo was never allowed to be human—not even for a moment.

Guilt surged once more.

His body felt heavy, like cotton soaked in water.

“I’m sorry, Tae-woo.”

So-won murmured under his breath—quiet enough that Tae-woo truly couldn’t hear it.

It was still a bit early for rush hour, so the roads were clear.

They arrived near So-won’s apartment quickly.

Tae-woo’s black sedan pulled over along the roadside nearby.

“I’ll let you know once I’ve set a moving date.”

“Understood.”

So-won opened the door but didn’t get out right away.

Tae-woo’s gaze shifted toward him, lingering as he hesitated.

“Thank you for taking me home, Tae-woo.”

So-won forced an awkward smile.

He’d always been trembling in front of him.

From now on—little by little—he wanted to change that.

“Get home safely.”

The dark crimson veins that looked ready to move at any moment, the expressionless face—for some reason today, they felt painfully heartbreaking.