Chapter 29: Say Stop, and I Will

Even Ye-seon, who had been pushed aside at the microphone, along with the other team members, and I-hyeon as well, whose eyes were still lit with excitement, were now all looking at Su-ha. Their gazes were half curious, half suspicious.

But Su-ha paid none of them any mind. The only thing he cared about right now was Lee Chaewon, who would have to withstand Min I-hyeon’s attack alone.

“And-”

He knew how shameless this was. There had been countless moments when Chaewon needed him. Long ago, Su-ha should have done exactly what he was doing now, calm him, steady him, reassure him.

Yet he had ignored all of it, acting as if none of it was his responsibility. Su-ha knew how ridiculous and absurd it must look for him to say this now.

“…I’ll be standing by as well.”

Even knowing that, he couldn’t pretend not to care this time. It should have felt unpleasant that an esper who hadn’t properly accomplished anything yet was receiving Min I-hyeon’s help.

As Jin Su-ha, who respected and admired Min I-hyeon, it should have bothered him that someone like Lee Chaewon was getting involved with I-hyeon at all.

“Don’t worry. Don’t push yourself. Just do as much as you can.”

And yet, why was Su-ha’s heart tightening at the thought that this fragile esper might get hurt? Why did the mere possibility of Chaewon being seriously injured make his chest sink and fill him with the urge to stop this at all costs?

Once he finished speaking, Su-ha quietly stepped away from the microphone as if he’d done nothing at all. Ye-seon, wearing an expression that looked like he was holding back laughter, stared at Su-ha persistently, but Su-ha didn’t even glance his way.

His eyes were fixed solely on Chaewon beyond the wall.

Chaewon, struggling to process what he’d just heard, stared blankly for a moment, replaying Su-ha’s words in his head.

Had he imagined it? Could this be another side effect? The thought crossed his mind, but the fact that Su-ha still hadn’t taken his eyes off him made it clear that what he’d heard was neither a hallucination nor anything else, it was real.

The breath that had been stuck in his chest finally loosened. The crushing pressure that had felt like it was squeezing his heart began to fade. Chaewon turned his gaze back to I-hyeon standing in front of him.

Strangely, I-hyeon no longer seemed as overwhelming or insurmountable as before.

Until now, Chaewon had never truly understood the saying that a pair guide was an esper’s strongest ally. But in this moment, he understood it with absolute clarity.

Knowing that someone was right there, someone who could help him if he collapsed under something he couldn’t handle alone, began to firmly support Chaewon’s back.

The light that had briefly dimmed around Chaewon flared brightly again. The blue, flame-like energy drew looks of awe from everyone watching, not toward I-hyeon this time, but toward Chaewon.

As he quietly observed Chaewon’s barrier growing thicker and shining more brightly, I-hyeon soon spoke, his voice tinged with a smile.

“Looks like you’re all set. Then let’s begin. This is stage one.”

With that, I-hyeon gave a small signal toward Ye-seon. For the evaluation, I-hyeon and Ye-seon had already decided on roughly fifteen stages of output in advance.

Stage one.

Repeating the term to himself, I-hyeon steadied his breathing to calm his excitement.

The power before him, an image he had never seen before, stimulated his instincts as an esper. Suppressing the urge to pour all his strength into shattering Chaewon’s barrier in one blow, I-hyeon formed a small fireball in the air.

He gave Chaewon a subtle warning with his eyes so he could prepare himself. Then, the fireball shot straight toward Chaewon’s barrier at high speed.

Chaewon stared straight at the incoming power with his eyes wide open, while Su-ha clenched his fist until his palm hurt.

With a thunderous boom, the fireball struck the barrier and scattered into the air. Compared to the loud noise, the aftermath was almost anticlimactic. Everyone’s eyes turned to Chaewon.

Having seen Chaewon collapse countless times before, the team members had half-expected the same outcome again. But once the light faded, Chaewon was still standing, he’d merely staggered back half a step. There was no blood, no vomiting.

“He blocked that… without any trouble?”

From inside the observation room, Ye-seon murmured in astonishment. He knew Chaewon’s growth was rapid and accelerating by the day, but he hadn’t been certain Chaewon could withstand such a direct, physical attack.

Of course, this was still only stage one, and objectively speaking, it wasn’t a particularly powerful attack. But compared to the Chaewon who had collapsed just recently from lifting a single sphere, this was astonishing progress.

“Haa…”

Chaewon let out a breath. He’d blocked it safely, but that didn’t mean there was no impact at all. Pain washed over him as if he’d been struck head-on by a massive wave. Still, as always, this level of pain was nothing to him.

More than anything, Chaewon was shaken by the fact that he had blocked I-hyeon’s attack.

He knew I-hyeon hadn’t used real force. He didn’t know exactly what “stage one” meant, but having taken it head-on, Chaewon could tell it was nothing more than a trivial level for I-hyeon.

But Chaewon had never expected much of himself to begin with. Even if it was a weak level, the fact that he’d blocked I-hyeon’s attack without coughing up blood or losing consciousness sent a thrill through him.

What pleased him most was that he’d shown a small but tangible result to Ye-seon and the esper management team, who had trusted him and waited without pressuring him, and that he’d gained the conviction that one day, with this power, he might truly be able to protect people.

“Stage two.”

I-hyeon’s voice was noticeably heavier than before. Out of habit, almost ritualistically, Chaewon briefly turned his gaze to Su-ha. This time as well, Su-ha didn’t avoid his eyes.

“I’m ready.”

Chaewon’s steady voice answered I-hyeon, and the larger, intensified power I-hyeon had gathered locked onto him.

****

“Kgh…!”

Once again, blood spilled from Chaewon’s mouth, splattering across his already bloodstained clothes and the floor. Temporarily withdrawing his power, Chaewon collapsed to the ground, roughly wiping the blood from his nose with his sleeve as he struggled to catch his breath. The blood-soaked floor spun beneath him.

He had just blocked a stage-seven attack.

From stage three onward, Chaewon had started bleeding from the nose and complaining of dizziness. Even so, the training continued because Chaewon himself wanted to keep going.

He worried briefly about losing control and going berserk, like Su-ha had warned before, but Su-ha was here, and more importantly, I-hyeon, who could subdue him with force if necessary, was right beside him.

For Chaewon, this was the perfect opportunity to safely push himself to his limit.

“Let’s stop here.”

Watching Chaewon’s arm repeatedly give out and push itself back up as he supported himself on the floor, Su-ha spoke to Ye-sepn in a low, subdued voice.

Unbeknownst to Chaewon, it was Su-ha who was reaching his limit. Ever since Chaewon started coughing up blood as the stages increased, Su-ha had grown visibly restless and anxious.

Ye-seon examined Chaewon beyond the glass and the real-time data being recorded with a sharp gaze. Chaewon had already surpassed his previous limits by a wide margin. Even if they stopped now, what they’d gained was far from insignificant.

Yet strangely, the words let’s stop didn’t come easily. Part of it was the ambition of a researcher who had observed espers for so long; part of it was the desire of someone who wanted to be right there, witnessing the writing of an extraordinary success story.

At last, Ye-seon turned on the microphone and spoke to Chaewon.

“Chaewon, can you keep going?”

“…Director Woo.”

Su-ha called out to Ye-seon in a cold voice, but Ye-seon ignored him and continued.

“If you can’t, we can stop. But if you’re okay, we can continue.”

Su-ha bit his lip. If you can’t, we can stop, but Ye-seon had to know that Chaewon would place more weight on what came after. Su-ha couldn’t call him cruel for it. Ye-seon was simply doing his job.

Accurately assessing Chaewon’s power was the duty and responsibility of the management team present. Considering Ye-seon’s character, he wouldn’t have made the suggestion if he thought Chaewon was in real danger.

Even if there was some ambition mixed in, it wasn’t beyond the bounds of his role.

If anything, the most irresponsible person here toward Chaewon was Jin Su-ha himself. In order not to overstep his authority, Su-ha forced down the emotions boiling inside him, emotions he himself didn’t fully understand.

“One last time, can you do it?”

At that moment, I-hyeon approached Chaewon, crouched down, gently cupped his cheek, and lifted his face to meet his eyes as he asked.

Chaewon’s blood stained I-hyeon’s hand and shoes, but I-hyeon didn’t seem to care at all.