Chapter 101: The Weight of a Burden

He was someone Sa-yoon had seen only once before, glimpsed on a screen the previous day.

Though it was merely a fleeting image in a documentary, his face had etched itself deep into Sa-yoon’s mind. While his exceptionally superior physique was certainly a factor, the true reason Sa-yoon remembered Han Do-hoon was because of his eyes.

The gaze, reflecting the flames with a dry, desolate intensity, belonged to one already dead.

His eyes held no ambition, no desire, not even the common flicker of hatred. He was a man whose murky, turbid gaze was like the dregs of time itself, endlessly flowing.

Sa-yoon, who had been staring at Han Do-hoon as if mesmerized, suddenly snapped back to reality, his expression hardening.

This was no time to be lost in thought. As he hastily tried to rise, Han Do-hoon, who had approached unnoticed, pressed his foot onto Sa-yoon’s shoulder.

“Ugh…”

The hard sole of a military boot pinned Sa-yoon against the wall. Han Do-hoon scrutinized Sa-yoon’s face, his foot grinding down as if to shatter the shoulder bone.

His brow furrowed when he saw the pristine white hair reflecting the faint light in the dark space. It was a face that felt strangely familiar.

“A defector from the Alliance? Or an Irregular?”

Han Do-hoon reached out, his target Sa-yoon’s mask. His hand stretched towards the mask, which firmly covered Sa-yoon’s lower face, coming perilously close.

Sa-yoon hastily shielded his mask and ducked his head, but Han Do-hoon roughly seized his white hair and yanked it upwards. Sa-yoon bit down hard on his lip, enduring the excruciating pain that felt as if his scalp were being ripped out.

He had believed his strength had recovered considerably, yet the overwhelming disparity left him utterly incapable of moving a single limb. Sa-yoon froze, like a lab rat before a lizard, and closed his eyes.

‘There’s no problem even if this face is revealed,’ he thought. ‘If he rips off my mask, I’ll spit in his face.’

The moment Sa-yoon steeled himself with this resolve, the ceiling shuddered.

“Seol-won!”

The roof above them collapsed. Dry clumps of earth rained down between Sa-yoon and Han Do-hoon. Seizing the moment Han Do-hoon’s pressure loosened, Sa-yoon fell to the opposite side.

From atop the crumbling earth, Kang Tae-han, who had been fighting outside, leaped in.

“Why is this old bastard causing a ruckus here alone? While his subordinates are suffering in the scorching sun.”

Kang Tae-han spat a mouthful of sand onto the ground. He then glanced at Sa-yoon out of the corner of his eye before stepping between Sa-yoon and Han Do-hoon, glaring at the latter once more.

“Seol-won. Get upstairs. I’ll hold this guy off. Join the others and escape.”

Sa-yoon clenched his jaw and nodded. Leaving Han Do-hoon, who was glaring intently at him, behind, he leaped towards the gaping hole in the ceiling.

In his current state, he would only be a burden to Kang Tae-han.

The moment Sa-yoon’s feet touched the ground, the earth trembled, and a colossal pillar of fire erupted from underground.

Two shadows clashed within the blinding flames. Heated grains of sand tore through the dry air, scattering in all directions. Sa-yoon stood frozen, watching the black trajectories of the two men.

He knew he had to escape immediately. As Kang Tae-han had instructed, he needed to rejoin Min Da-hyun and return to the village.

Yet, his feet felt glued to the ground, utterly unable to move.

Kang Tae-han was one of the strongest espers in Air Rain. Though his rank was unknown due to Rain’s lack of a grading system, a former A-rank esper from outside had claimed Kang Tae-han was far stronger than himself.

For such a Kang Tae-han to declare he would hold off Han Do-hoon, speaking as if stopping him was the best course of action despite looking ready to tear the opponent apart, implied that Han Do-hoon was equally formidable.

‘Will he be alright?’ Sa-yoon gripped his hands tightly, observing Kang Tae-han each time the two clashed.

What had appeared to be an evenly matched battle began to show a distinct difference as time wore on. It was Kang Tae-han who gradually slowed down in what had initially seemed like an equal fight.

Han Do-hoon had not been giving his all from the start. He had maintained the same speed and output throughout the battle, reserving his strength and toying with his opponent.

Sa-yoon clenched his fists. Kang Tae-han could only hold out until everyone else had escaped.

But it couldn’t end there. If Kang Tae-han didn’t return safely, everything would be for naught. If Kang Tae-han disappeared, Air Rain would inevitably be disbanded.

‘If only I had a little more power, if only I could be of some help.’

Sa-yoon clutched his churning chest, blaming his own powerlessness. The violently pounding heart and the stomach pain that radiated to his spine, which had plagued him since encountering Han Do-hoon, tormented him.

Swallowing sweet-tasting saliva due to the pain, he hunched over, yet through his blurred vision, he continued to watch the two fighting figures.

It was only for a fleeting moment. A faint line appeared between the two figures in Sa-yoon’s vision. A thin white line, an opaque thread like scattered cobwebs.

Sa-yoon rubbed his eyes, but the line did not vanish. Rather, it grew even clearer behind his briefly closed eyelids.

This was a symptom Sa-yoon had experienced before, when he had concentrated, desiring to understand his ability. The power he hadn’t been able to attempt due to intense headaches was now manifesting.

Sa-yoon squeezed his eyes shut. ‘Anything is fine. I don’t know what this ability is, but please, just move properly this one time if it can help Kang Tae-han.’

In the pitch-black void before him, the subtly undulating white lines slowly revealed their true nature. Vertically and horizontally, and then between the finely divided lines, a pale green energy moved.

This was instinct. Sa-yoon had a premonition that he could manipulate these lines as he wished. The moment that thought flashed through his mind, he did not hesitate.

Sa-yoon fixed his gaze on the more ferocious and massive of the two turbulent energies. He touched the coordinates beneath Han Do-hoon, a deep green energy almost black in hue.

A colossal sandstorm obscured his vision, and a massive bedrock layer pierced through the earth, erupting from the ground. The terrain, rising in the form of an enormous pillar, instantly enveloped Han Do-hoon.

Han Do-hoon’s gaze snapped towards Sa-yoon.

“You…!”

The moment Han Do-hoon, who had been fighting Kang Tae-han, turned his body towards Sa-yoon, the ground embraced him and plummeted him downward. Han Do-hoon, with hundreds of tons of weight, sank into the deepest part of the underground.

Unable to comprehend what had happened, Sa-yoon stared at the impenetrable sand fog before collapsing into a crouch.

“…Ugh.”

The shock belatedly enveloped his entire body. He collapsed to the ground, overwhelmed by a suffocating headache and nausea that churned his insides. His lungs felt like stone, rigidly stiff and unable to draw breath.

Kang Tae-han rushed towards Sa-yoon, who was gasping and writhing in agony. Shouting “Seol-won!” he quickly embraced Sa-yoon.

“Can you hear me? 155. 24. 8. Transmit it quickly. There are two of them. Hurry.”

“Agh…”

“Seol-won. Stay conscious. You can’t collapse now.”

Kang Tae-han’s urgent words echoed. Sa-yoon looked at Kang Tae-han through his fading vision. He had numerous minor injuries, but didn’t seem severely hurt.

‘Still, I was able to help this time,’ he thought. Though he didn’t know what he had done, the satisfaction was enough to make even the pain welcome.

“Don’t smile. What’s so good about smiling after causing such trouble?”

Sa-yoon closed his eyes, listening to the scolding words directed at him.

“Fortunately, there are no broken bones or irreparable damage. You could go back into battle right now.”

Kim Chae-jun, who had casually delivered such a brutal assessment in a polite tone, closed the medical box. He sighed, looking at Han Do-hoon, who had remained still as a statue without a word during his emergency treatment.

Many things had changed after Sa-yoon’s death. Han Do-hoon had transferred from the Korean Esper Corps to the Esper Alliance, becoming its vice-commander. Kim Chae-jun and Kang Ah-jun had followed him to the Alliance.

Kim Chae-jun no longer wished to remain in a place where Sa-yoon was absent, nor did he believe he could endure it. From that day, Kim Chae-jun had one goal: the annihilation of Rain. He would kill every single member of the species that had murdered Sa-yoon.

Han Do-hoon was the most crucial person needed to achieve that goal, so Chae-jun had followed him without hesitation. He intended to clash directly with Rain on the battlefield, to destroy their very foundations. Kang Ah-jun felt the same way.

“This mission was a failure. I thought the plan was perfect. Why did we miss them?”

“……”

However, a variable had emerged in Chae-jun’s firm resolve. That variable was Han Do-hoon.

Han Do-hoon, who Kim Chae-jun had expected to burn with the fury of losing Sa-yoon, instead withered away each day like an uprooted old tree. Just like now. Han Do-hoon showed no reaction even when his subordinate, Kim Chae-jun, spoke sarcastically. It wasn’t because he was lenient; it was simply because he didn’t care.

Han Do-hoon, like Kim Chae-jun, was actively annihilating Rain, yet there was a subtle difference. Han Do-hoon was not seeking revenge for Sa-yoon. He moved like a machine, as if killing Rain was the only thing left for him to do.

“What should we record as the outcome of this operation?”

“…How many spatial manipulation espers, like Jin Sa-yoon, can freely move coordinates?”

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