Chapter 100: A Promise That Never Reached the Light

Yu Hiiro never answered until the very end.

Part of it was because he didn’t want to waste time on meaningless conversation—but more than that, there simply wasn’t anything he could say.

Instead, Yu Hiiro asked,

“Is that what they told you?”

The child nodded without hesitation. His trust in the researchers seemed absolute.

Yu Hiiro had once been the same. In fact, that period had lasted quite a long time. From the moment he was born until the upper grades of elementary school—nearly ten years—his entire world had been nothing more than the laboratory, its boundaries marked by yellow tape.

Because he believed that world was everything, he never once questioned it. Everything had a reason. Until he learned that those reasons were nothing but neatly wrapped lies, Yu Hiiro had thought of the laboratory as his home.

“Do you believe them?”

At Yu Hiiro’s second question, the child hesitated for the first time. But soon, he nodded timidly.

“……They said that if I hadn’t come here, I would’ve died. I was sick to begin with, but before I came, they told me I only had three months left. But… after coming here, a whole year passed and I was still alive.”

Yu Hiiro quietly processed the information hidden within the child’s innocent words.

And he realized that the Association had lied to him once again.

They had spoken as if the second project was still in preparation—when in reality, they had already carried it out on their own.

A full year ago.

At the time, Yu Hiiro hadn’t even emerged from the X-Gate yet. They must have seen him rampaging through the X-Gate, declared the experiment a success, and immediately brought in a new test subject.

And now, all this talk of consultation and experience—calling him back—was likely because something in the experiment wasn’t going as planned.

“My dad always said I had to be grateful to the researchers, and I really kept that promise… but I haven’t seen him for three months. They said they’d let me meet him… so I got scared they wouldn’t let me meet you either. That’s why I came first.”

It seemed the boy’s father was an outsider. Yu Hiiro had never had anything like that, so he hadn’t noticed how strange it was—but at least this child had family living outside. A possible escape route.

‘…No. Does he really?’

Yu Hiiro let out a self-mocking smile.

“They said it’s because I haven’t fully recovered yet, so I’m trying to endure just a little longer.”

The child smiled, scrunching his eyes, completely unaware of his own situation or future.

By the time daylight had fully broken and a blue sky was visible beyond the window—

Beep. Beep. Beeeeep!

The emergency alarm began to blare.

—Test subject escape. Test subject escape.

A recorded mechanical voice repeated endlessly, accompanied by shrill warning sirens.

“Ah! I’ve been found! What do I do?!”

The child stamped his feet anxiously and looked up at Yu Hiiro with pleading eyes. Yu Hiiro let out a deep sigh and lifted the child up without another word.

Suspended from the shadows like before, the child stared at him with watery eyes, not understanding what was happening. As if thinking he was being hidden, the child pointed urgently toward the space behind the door.

As if hiding there would stop them from finding him.

Yu Hiiro ignored the suggestion without hesitation. The child kicked his legs as if swimming through the air, then abruptly held his breath when approaching footsteps echoed closer.

The child clasped both hands over his mouth, his wide eyes darting around. He looked like he might burst into tears at any moment.

What a nuisance. Why was he even playing along with this?

Yu Hiiro lifted his gaze coldly as the intruders stormed into the recovery room.

“Don’t move.”

The armed personnel swept the room efficiently. They flung open the door the child had been so desperate to hide behind, searched under the bed, and even pulled aside the thin curtain.

Yu Hiiro watched their pointless efforts with thinly veiled contempt.

“There’s no one here.”

Yu Hiiro glanced up at the child, who was still desperately covering his mouth. Then he raised one hand, drawing their attention.

“You really think there’s no one?”

He folded his fingers until only his index finger remained—and pointed it upward. Everyone’s gaze followed instinctively.

“Ghk—!”

The child’s pent-up breath burst out, and he gasped painfully for air. His face twisted in distress as he glared resentfully at Yu Hiiro.

“Told you he was here.”

Yu Hiiro shrugged as if to say see?

The armed men immediately raised their guns at Yu Hiiro. Their movements were sharp—clearly well-trained. They positioned themselves so as not to overlap, surrounding him completely.

These weren’t ordinary firearms—likely weapons designed to temporarily suppress abilities.

Or perhaps tranquilizers capable of knocking out even an S-rank Esper in an instant.

“What are you doing?”

“Isn’t this a bit excessive for someone who was just lying in a hospital bed?”

Yu Hiiro replied with mockery instead of the answer they wanted. Click—every safety came off at once. Only the trigger remained.

Even so, Yu Hiiro leisurely swept his gaze around the room. Researchers were hurrying toward them.

He’d expected as much. Those sly, cowardly types were never quick unless it was to protect themselves.

“I was just curious what the second test subject was like, so I brought him over. No need to get so worked up—just take him back.”

Yu Hiiro set the child down and pushed him toward the researchers.

Before anyone could react, a researcher grabbed the child’s arm tightly. Two grown men rushed in to restrain him, as if to ensure he could never escape again.

Still confused, the child was dragged away while staring back at Yu Hiiro.

Only after Yu Hiiro raised both hands clearly—showing no intent to attack—did the armed men slowly lower their weapons.

As soon as the return order was issued, they disappeared. The recovery room returned to its usual silence, as if nothing had happened.

From the outside, it looked unbearably peaceful.

The sun shone brilliantly in the clear sky, so dazzling it nearly brought tears to his eyes. Yu Hiiro stared at the light without blinking.

Thinking of someone he always remembered whenever he saw the sun.

He wanted to greet them—

Good morning.

How many hours passed like that?

By the time the sun was no longer visible through the window—

Clack.

The door to the recovery room opened without a knock. Yu Hiiro didn’t turn his head, even though he knew someone had entered.

They were people interested not in him, but in his body. Without a word, they went about their work.

“Yu Hiiro.”

This time was different.

At the sound of a familiar voice calling him, Yu Hiiro finally turned his head.

It was someone he hadn’t expected to see here. His eyes narrowed.

Access to the research facility was strictly controlled.

Even as a laboratory under the Hunter Association, Association employees couldn’t come and go freely. Only a select few were permitted—and even they were barred from the place where Yu Hiiro was kept.

Son Seongcheol let out a hollow laugh when he saw Yu Hiiro. He had come only because the Chairman had pushed him to—but seeing Yu Hiiro lying there, pale and frail, left him stunned.

This was no hospital.

The wary looks he’d received from everyone he passed were hard to ignore. The visitor badge hanging around his neck only made him stand out more.

People’s gazes lingered on the badge before shifting suspiciously to his face.

From the moment he entered the separate building tucked away in the corner of the facility grounds, Son Seongcheol had felt something was wrong.

Passing through layers of security only deepened that unease. And after signing confidentiality agreements and visit logs, he realized he had walked into a trap of his own accord.

It felt like standing inside the gaping maw of a massive monster.

Of course, he knew that Yu Hiiro had once been a test subject of the Association’s secret HERO PROJECT.

But knowing something on paper and witnessing it firsthand were entirely different things. The Chairman’s words and a single line of text in a file could never convey the overwhelming reality now unfolding before him.

Son Seongcheol felt as though he’d been dropped into a world he didn’t recognize.

Two researchers shoved past him and entered the room. They began attaching unknown devices to Yu Hiiro’s body, jabbing needles into him without hesitation.

Their movements were mechanical.

Yu Hiiro lay there indifferently as an unidentified liquid flowed into his veins.

It looked like something straight out of a science fiction film—so unreal it barely felt like reality.

Son Seongcheol squeezed his eyes shut, certain that from the moment he left this place, his life would never be the same again.

He regretted visiting the Chairman that morning.

****************

“He probably won’t come. No contact.”

After hearing everything from Seong Jiwoo, Park Sujin shook her head grimly. The last shred of hope collapsed completely.

“Damn it. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted that bastard.”

Seong Jiwoo cursed under his breath and exhaled heavily. The situation refusing to go his way made his head throb.

Park Sujin placed a cold drink in front of him and nodded as if she fully understood.

“You can’t trust those Association assholes. Betraying people’s their favorite hobby.”

After thinking for a long moment, Seong Jiwoo stood up.

“It can’t be helped.”

He spoke with firm resolve. There was no reason left to hesitate.

“We’re going to get Yu Hiiro back.”

Waiting while believing in empty promises was worse than taking action. Park Sujin immediately agreed.

The two of them looked ready to tear the Association down at any moment.

Bzz—buzz.

Just then, Seong Jiwoo’s phone rang.