Chapter 11: An Invisible Island

Chaewon had to pour literally everything he possessed into one thing alone – “survival.”

If he allowed another person into his world, it meant inevitably sharing some part of his life with them.

And if there was someone he wanted to grow close to, then naturally he would have to devote to that person what little time or resources he had.

Chaewon believed that none of those things were privileges granted to him.

Chaewon was an invisible island, parasitically clinging to a tiny crack in a massive city.

He lived believing that his sole purpose was to be an IV drip stuck into his grandmother’s arm, sustaining her life, and that alone gave him meaning.

When he received a brand-new smartphone, supposedly one of the supplies issued to Espers, Chaewon was struck by the unfamiliar realization that there was not a single person he could share the news with.

Holding the phone in his hand for a long time, he silently swallowed his sobs.

“No. This isn’t the time for that.”

Once his thoughts reached that point, Chaewon consciously shook his head and pulled himself together.

To think he’d fallen into pointless self-pity, he really must be doing better now, if he had the luxury for thoughts like these.

Rather than his emotions, Chaewon decided to reassess his situation more realistically.

This otherworldly environment surrounding him existed solely because he had awakened as an Esper.

In other words, as long as he belonged here, there was a role he absolutely had to fulfill.

This wasn’t the time to be wallowing in melancholy.

Whether they called him a gifted individual or an Esper, if he stripped away all the embellishments, the truth was simple, he had been assigned a new job.

Chaewon needed to adapt as quickly as possible, and do so without causing trouble for others.

His gaze drifted to the sleeve of his patient gown, where a dark reddish stain remained.

It was a trace left by a nosebleed.

Even though he’d washed it immediately after the bleeding stopped, the mark hadn’t disappeared completely, and the corner of Chaewon’s lips curved into an almost imperceptible smile.

He had bled, yes, but the fact that he hadn’t fainted and had endured through it still filled him with quiet pride.

He kept telling himself that this was just the start of a new job, but whenever the thought crossed his mind that he might truly be able to contribute to saving the world, his heart began to race far beyond his station.

Once he reached that realization, it felt as though every single cell in his body had become painfully alert.

Deciding that sleep was no longer possible, Chaewon left the bathroom, carefully opened the door to his hospital room, and stepped out into the hallway.

Eunho had told him that the hospital had a pantry and lounge available for use twenty-four hours a day.

Chaewon thought now seemed like an appropriate time to check them out.

****

“Choosing isn’t easy, right?”

Chaewon, who had been staring at dozens of coffee capsules in front of the machine with a bewildered expression, flinched and turned his head at the sudden voice beside him.

“Ah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Seeing the man apologizing with a face full of genuine remorse only made Chaewon more dumbfounded.

Because the person standing beside him, speaking so casually, was none other than Min Ihyeon, the man known as the greatest Esper.

“M-Min Ihyeon, Esper…!”

Chaewon instinctively took a step back as he called out the name.

It was a reflexive reaction.

His normally calm voice had risen unusually high.

Seemingly unbothered by having his name suddenly called, Ihyeon crinkled his gentle eyes into a smile and spoke.

“You know me?”

‘You’re asking if I know you?’

Chaewon nearly blurted that out loud.
How many people in this country didn’t know Min Ihyeon?

There were countless fans overseas who idolized him, so the question was so surprising it bordered on absurd.

Managing to calm his pounding heart, Chaewon nodded obediently and replied.

“Yes. Of course I do…”

His voice trembled in the end, despite himself.

Ihyeon wasn’t a celebrity, but it felt like standing face-to-face with one for the first time in his life.

In truth, any celebrity in South Korea would pale in comparison when met in person next to Min Ihyeon.

Even in Chaewon’s world, where he had lived somewhat disconnected from most worldly affairs, the man standing before him had always been someone he heard about and saw.

Rubbing his palms against his clothes out of habit, Chaewon cautiously lifted his gaze from the floor and looked at Ihyeon.

He had only ever seen him on television, always in combat gear or a suit, so seeing him dressed casually was strangely fascinating.

Then, unexpected words fell from Ihyeon’s lips.

“I know you too. You’re Esper Lee Chaewon, right?”

Chaewon’s eyes widened in shock.
Hearing his own name spoken by Ihyeon felt so unfamiliar that it echoed in his ears like a language he’d never heard before.

“H-How… how did you…?”

His voice failed to form complete words, scattering into fragments.

He had thought there wouldn’t be anything left to surprise him, but it seemed he was wrong.

Ihyeon, still wearing a relaxed expression, answered calmly.

“Oh, you didn’t know? You’re extremely famous right now, Chaewon.”

“…?”

“It’s been a long time since an S-rank awakened. And a telekinesis-type, no less… everyone’s interested. Me included.”

As Ihyeon continued speaking, Chaewon’s expression grew unreadable. He could understand his name being passed around.

Between his terminal illness history and being an S-rank who couldn’t properly use his abilities due to side effects, there was plenty to talk about.

What puzzled him was that there wasn’t a trace of negativity in Ihyeon’s voice.
If anything, Chaewon sensed a faint goodwill in it.

Being grouped together as fellow S-ranks with someone so incomplete could have been uncomfortable, but Ihyeon showed no sign of that at all.

Min Ihyeon was flawless not only in ability but also in appearance, yet in that moment, Chaewon truly understood why the public believed his long-lasting popularity stemmed above all else from his character.

Even Chaewon, who rarely found himself flustered, didn’t know how to respond and hesitated.

During that pause, Ihyeon straightened slightly and extended his hand.

“Let’s introduce ourselves properly. I’m Min Ihyeon.”

Like someone under a spell, Chaewon stared at the hand offered to him, momentarily forgetting how to breathe.
Perhaps because he’d been indulging in unnecessary sentimentality earlier, the casually extended hand felt strangely foreign, and warmer than expected.

After rubbing his palm against his waist several times as if wiping off something dirty, Chaewon carefully took Ihyeon’s hand.

“I’m Lee Chaewon.”

“I look forward to working with you.”

“M-Me too.”

He wondered whether he would ever meet this man again, but in the face of such a kind greeting, no other response came to mind.

Then it suddenly hit Chaewon, this wasn’t a regular residence, but a hospital within the Center.

His heart dropped.

Still holding onto Ihyeon’s hand, Chaewon tightened his grip and asked,

“Are you hurt?”

“Pardon?”

“This is a hospital… are you admitted?”

Normally, Chaewon would have noticed immediately that Ihyeon was dressed in casual clothes and dismissed the worry.
But his mind was in too much disarray from the sudden encounter.

Ihyeon looked briefly surprised, then quickly caught on and smiled as he shook his head.

“No. I’m not injured. One of my teammates is hospitalized.”

“A-Ah….”

Only then did Chaewon realize how foolish he’d been acting.

Still, once he confirmed that Ihyeon wasn’t hurt, relief washed over him, and he finally released the hand he’d been gripping, letting out a small sigh.

Staying overnight at the hospital for an injured teammate, perhaps the public’s praise of Min Ihyeon truly wasn’t exaggerated.

Turning his body, Ihyeon tore open a stick coffee packet, poured it into a mug he’d brought over, and spoke.

“I couldn’t sleep and felt like I needed  coffee, so I came out. Thanks to that, I got to meet you too. Lucky me. Next time we meet, don’t pretend you don’t know me, say hello, okay?”

“Yes. I will.”

“Then I’ll be going. Sleep well.”

“…Yes. Good night.”

With a light wave of his hand, Ihyeon turned and walked away with unhurried steps.

Left alone once more, Chaewon stared blankly at the spot where Min Ihyeon had been standing just moments ago.
It felt as though he’d been swept up in a violent storm and only just escaped.

Only after some time passed did Chaewon realize he’d originally been agonizing over which coffee capsule to choose.

The names were printed on the capsule surfaces, but that alone made it hard to tell how they differed or what they tasted like.

This time, his gaze shifted to the stick coffee set beside them.

He chose the same one Ihyeon had used and poured it into a disposable cup.

The fact that he was drinking the same coffee as Min Ihyeon felt inexplicably fascinating, and finding himself amused by that thought, Chaewon let out a small laugh.

“Ah… could it be…?”

Chaewon’s busy hands froze at that very moment.

A sudden, powerful premonition flashed through his mind.

From the moment I awakened as a guide, there has been a specific Esper I’ve set as my goal.

Su-ha’s voice echoed in his head, the voice that had once confessed his honest feelings to him.

Su-ha had never said who that Esper was, yet for some reason, Chaewon felt certain it was Min Ihyeon.

It was a sensation bordering on conviction.