Chapter 65: A Sacrifice Recalled

“He’s surprisingly intact, isn’t he?”

Sa-yoon was almost deflated by how remarkably well Han Do-hoon appeared. He had expected Han Do-hoon to be near death, having struggled to suppress the rampaging individual within the pillar of fire. Yet, he stood firm on both feet.

“But what is this space? I never imagined the inside of a pillar of flame could be so comfortable. I worried for nothing.”

Inside the pillar of flame, an eerie stillness reigned. Though it raged violently on the outside, its interior was a serene sanctuary, like a cathedral forged from pure fire.

Sa-yoon gazed up at the walls of the fiery pillar, which stretched endlessly towards the sky. Beyond the crimson edges of the flames, the black expanse of the night sky was visible. On the opposite side from Han Do-hoon, the blurry silhouette of a boy, still rampaging and engulfed in the inferno, flickered erratically.

“What will you do now? If you’re holding him back, should I go in and take him down?”

“I am barely maintaining a balance right now; interfering would be dangerous.”

Only then did Sa-yoon realize that Han Do-hoon was exerting his utmost to control the flames. Han Do-hoon’s breathing, which Sa-yoon could feel from his proximity, was ragged and inconsistent.

“Can you last longer than him?”

“I wonder.”

Han Do-hoon delivered this ominous reply with a placid expression, his fingers not having twitched once since Sa-yoon arrived. His gaze, usually fixed directly on Sa-yoon, remained unwavering, locked solely on the boy. He seemed to have no余裕 to even blink.

‘…I almost made a grave mistake by arriving a little later.’

Sa-yoon clicked his tongue. He had nearly been fooled by Han Do-hoon’s seemingly unharmed state. The pillar of fire seemed to be slowly expanding, and as expected, Han Do-hoon was nonchalantly pushing himself to his limits. It was worse than simply suffering intensely and dying; this was like withering away while still alive.

“Sa-yoon, why did you come in here? This place might soon become dangerous, so you should leave.”

Even in this dire situation, Han Do-hoon’s kindness, worrying about others, stirred a heavy ache in Sa-yoon’s chest. Sa-yoon approached Han Do-hoon’s side, feigning indifference. Then, he plopped down onto the scorched earth, where even the roots had been incinerated.

“I just came to hear your last words.”

He thought he heard a faint chuckle above his head. It was a remarkably peaceful reaction, as if they had forgotten they were in a life-or-death situation. Were it not for the stinging heat on his skin and the strange sight of flames blocking every direction, the tranquility would have made him forget reality.

“Han Do-hoon, what were you thinking, trying to stop him? Were you confident you could suppress his rampage?”

“That wasn’t it.”

“Or were you planning to take the drug again, like before?”

A similar incident had occurred in Seoul. Just like now, Han Do-hoon had thrown himself into danger, saving countless lives. Sa-yoon recalled the Pentosamic he had taken in the underground passage back then.

This time, if Han Do-hoon succeeded in controlling the rampaging individual and took the Pentosamic, Sa-yoon intended to take him back to headquarters. There was a one-hour limit, but that was acceptable.

They simply needed to catch up with the retreating agents from Daejeon. One hour was ample time to assign a guide. Moreover, they weren’t isolated underground like during the Han River incident.

That was the best solution Sa-yoon could devise. Han Do-hoon, however, shook his head resolutely.

“It’s a good plan, but I lost the drug during my last mission. I didn’t even have time to retrieve it before coming in here.”

The situation was truly twisted and unfortunate. Han Do-hoon and Sa-yoon’s previous mission had been far from light. It involved herding hundreds of Rain creatures into a trap, and Han Do-hoon was the one who decisively eliminated them. He had then rushed into this place without any time to recuperate.

Sa-yoon, at least, had used fainting as an excuse to rest in bed for a while, but Han Do-hoon had been working for nearly twenty-four hours straight. It was a bleak schedule to face one’s final moments.

“Then what will you do now? You must have thought about it while you were here alone.”

Han Do-hoon was no fool. Even if he had initially rushed in without thinking, he must now be aware of the current situation. He, too, must have searched for a way out of this place.

“If the rampaging individual’s energy depletes first, I will subdue him. If I tire before he does, after suppressing that power as much as possible…”

Han Do-hoon paused, finally looking at Sa-yoon. Within his eyes, a fiery red glow flickered like flames. The unspoken conclusion was clear to both of them.

“I will try to minimize the damage as much as possible.”

‘He means he’ll end his own life before he rampages.’ Sa-yoon swallowed a deep sigh that rose from within. Ultimately, it meant he intended to die, and Sa-yoon found no words to add.

Sa-yoon rose from his spot. He brushed the dirt from his pants and walked towards the hole that led up from underground.

“I understand. Then, leave your last words. I’ll deliver whatever you say.”

“Seeing your face, Sa-yoon, is enough.”

Even in this moment, the man remained incredibly kind. Sa-yoon couldn’t turn his head, instead staring at the ground. The hole leading to the underground yawned like a black maw.

“…Is that truly all?”

“Be happy. And make sure you eat well.”

Sa-yoon’s chest felt heavy.

He knew. Han Do-hoon had always been this way. He was always an old-fashioned, strange individual. He was even wishing for Sa-yoon’s happiness, despite Sa-yoon being about to abandon him in a crisis.

‘Wouldn’t you act the same way if you were in a dangerous situation, Sa-yoon?’

Han Do-hoon had said that to Sa-yoon. He genuinely believed that everyone would sacrifice themselves for the sake of many lives, just as he did. But that wasn’t true.

Sa-yoon had seen many who oppressed others out of selfishness, and who readily sacrificed others in the name of progress. His own biological father and the leaders who sent the Irregulars to the laboratory were prime examples. People who lived solely for themselves slept soundly, boasting of their comfort, so why should Han Do-hoon die here?

Sa-yoon desperately swallowed the emotions surging to his throat. His eyes felt moist.

“How can you be so composed, even until the very end? Don’t you feel like you want to live? Don’t you want to be saved?”

“If there were a way for everyone to live, I would have done it long ago.”

“That’s such a textbook answer, I don’t even have the energy to retort. Really.”

“Sa-yoon.”

Han Do-hoon called out Sa-yoon’s name. It was a different tone from the emotionless voice he had used to state facts until now.

“I grew up in Sweden until I was ten. I lived like a normal child with both my parents.”

Sa-yoon turned to him, sensing the nuance that Han Do-hoon was about to share his story for the first time. In that short moment, Han Do-hoon looked even more exhausted, yet he smiled at Sa-yoon.

“Sweden… wasn’t that country already wiped out seventeen years ago by a terrorist attack?”

Northern Europe had suffered the most severe damage from the Rain.

“Yes. We couldn’t stop the terror then. My parents died in that incident, and I awakened due to the shock of it. Just like that boy.”

Sa-yoon reflexively looked at the boy, whose shadow was barely visible.

“Fortunately, I was able to receive help from a guide. The one who saved me when I was about to rampage was my current adoptive father, the Commander-in-Chief, and his guide.”

“This is classified information, isn’t it?”

“Rather than classified, it’s a fact known only to the Commander-in-Chief’s family and me. Sweden ceased to exist after that, and there are no records.”

It was a story even more confidential than classified information.

Han Do-hoon paused, reminiscing about that time. The bomb detonated by the terrorist group had obliterated his entire residential area. People died. His kind neighbors, his friends with whom he had laughed—all were gone.

The only survivor was Han Do-hoon, who had awakened at the moment of the explosion.

His entire body felt as if it were tearing apart, and all his senses attacked him. Instinctively knowing he would die, Han Do-hoon wailed, cradling his parents’ torn bodies.

Even before his full rampage, an S-class Esper’s destructive power was immense. The Commander-in-Chief, who arrived late, chasing the terrorist group, tried to suppress Han Do-hoon, but there was no guide who could approach him closely.

In that situation, the person who embraced Han Do-hoon, even as her skin was torn, was the Commander-in-Chief’s guide and Han Do-hoon’s current adoptive mother. Because of that incident, his mother lost the use of one arm and would live with a prosthetic limb for the rest of her life.

“At that moment, I resolved something. If someone else ever faced the same situation as me, if a moment came when they needed my help, I would not hesitate to do what needed to be done. I believed I survived alone for that very purpose.”

The boy rampaging now resembled Han Do-hoon. They were both fire-attribute Espers, and both had awakened due to a terrorist attack. Every circumstance seemed to whisper to Han Do-hoon that this was the very moment he had resolved to face.

“So, please go now. I will finish this here.”

“……”

Sa-yoon gazed at Han Do-hoon, who wore a strangely unburdened expression. It was a look devoid of regret, as if saving someone and dying in the process was his destined mission.

The child who survived through sacrifice had grown into an adult unafraid of sacrifice. Only then did Sa-yoon understand why Han Do-hoon was so indifferent to his own life.

However, Sa-yoon, who had lived a vastly different life, could not simply say ‘I understand’ and turn his back so lightly.

“I… I don’t know. No, I don’t think I want to know.”

Sa-yoon’s life had been fiercely challenging in a different way. He had struggled desperately to protect his own life, and to protect his mother, he had bowed before his enemies. His only friend had vanished without cause, and he had lived in constant terror that he, too, would one day die like that, fighting to survive.

To Sa-yoon, the world was a hell built not on sacrifice, but on selfishness.