Chapter 83: Don’t Touch Him

“Achoo.”

Bodam sneezed and sniffled.

His nose, blocked from crying himself to sleep, combined with the dry hospital room air, made him sneeze repeatedly.

Team Leader Kim, who was maintaining a barrier behind him, suggested they leave if he was tired, but Bodam remained in his seat.

Even though an hour had passed since he started guiding Yi Jun, he felt no desire to stop.

“‘Where’s a blanket-’”

As Team Leader Kim, unable to watch any longer, sought something to cover Bodam, Seung Ho approached without a sound and offered a blanket.

However, Team Leader Kim did not take the blanket.

He simply crossed his arms and pointed at Bodam with his chin.

It meant for Seung Ho to hand it to him personally.

After holding the blanket aloft for three seconds, Seung Ho eventually approached Bodam from behind.

Then, without a word, he held the blanket close to Bodam’s shoulder, where he was focused on guiding.

“‘Ah, it’s fine, …I don’t need it.’”

Bodam, raising his head in the direction Team Leader Kim was facing, stiffened his expression the moment he saw Han Seung Ho.

After flatly rejecting Seung Ho’s offer, he immediately looked away.

It wasn’t even very cold anyway.

When guiding Kang Yi Jun, his body tended to heat up, so a short-sleeved shirt would have been better.

“‘…….’”

Seung Ho, looking down at Bodam whose cheeks were slightly flushed, merely placed the blanket on the table right beside him.

Team Leader Kim silently watched Seung Ho return to his spot and shook his head slightly.

Then, confirming that Bodam was focusing on guiding again, he sat down in a chair.

It seemed they would have to wait quite a bit longer.

As Team Leader Kim expected, Bodam’s guiding continued for over two hours.

Even as he shrugged his shoulders and exercised his arms to prevent cramps, Bodam did not let go of Kang Yi Jun’s hand.

He couldn’t let go.

He was drawn like a magnet by the desperate aura absorbing live, breathing guiding, not just a machine’s.

With any other Esper, he could have finished up reasonably, but because it was Kang Yi Jun, he couldn’t.

It was a hand connected by a high matching rate and even a half-imprinting.

Despite being the first guiding session in a long time, excluding the one he recently gave Lee Tae Hwan, Bodam calmed the Esper’s waves without any apparent difficulty.

As the guiding duration grew longer, it became purely a battle of stamina, so he closed his eyes and heightened his concentration.

He wanted him to recover quickly so the natural imprinting could be severed.

He also wished for that corpse-like, dark blue face to return to its former state.

Inside the hospital room, where the cold mechanical sounds still intermittently echoed, only Bodam’s and Yi Jun’s auras filled the air.

Seung Ho and Team Leader Kim, both barrier Espers, completely hid their waves for Bodam’s sake.

Thanks to this, Bodam could focus solely on Kang Yi Jun’s waves.

He calmly closed his eyes and mentally drew Kang Yi Jun’s waves onto a dim, black background.

When the contact level was low, he imagined visual images to enhance the guiding effect.

Kang Yi Jun’s waves brought to mind the color blue.

Not a brilliant summer sea, but a murky, dark sea of cold winter.

Because of that, when guiding Yi Jun, he imagined all sorts of warm colors.

He envisioned colors that would warm up the blue, which was full of only cold, and put his energy into it.

Slowly, Bodam’s rising body heat seeped into Yi Jun.

It was guiding that could melt an Esper.

It was a warmth that made even Han Seung Ho open his eyes, of all people.

“‘Hyung.’”

A deeply resonant voice called Bodam.

Bodam’s shoulders shot up at the sudden voice, and he abruptly opened his eyes.

Kang Yi Jun, awake from sleep, was calling him.

“‘I didn’t do it.’”

Yi Jun said.

The small voice, almost a whisper, felt very unfamiliar.

It wasn’t like Kang Yi Jun.

Bodam, looking down at his calmly subdued figure, slowly opened his mouth too.

“‘…What?’”

“‘This, right now.’”

Along with the ambiguous answer, Kang Yi Jun added cautious pressure to their joined hands.

He curled his fingers and tightly grasped Bodam’s hand.

Anyone else hearing it might wonder what he meant, but Bodam miraculously understood.

Pressing harder on their connected palms, Yi Jun emphasized that he was talking about the natural imprinting.

As if to say he hadn’t forced the half-imprinting.

He continued speaking indistinctly in a hazy voice, as if still half-asleep.

“‘If I’d… known how… I would’ve done it sooner.’”

“‘…You crazy bastard.’”

The moment Bodam heard Yi Jun’s sleep-talk, he threw his hand away as if discarding it.

He uttered it aloud, but inside, a ‘Good heavens, that crazy bastard’ spontaneously escaped him.

Right.

That’s Kang Yi Jun.

“‘Hyung-’”

“‘Don’t call me.’”

“‘Don’t go-’”

“‘Don’t grab me, either.’”

Bodam cut off every word Kang Yi Jun mouthed.

Kang Yi Jun’s fingertips, searching for the hand that had pulled away, rose into the air.

His flailing fingers, like playing piano keys, searched for Bodam.

His arm, bound by the barrier, couldn’t even stretch out.

“‘Stay still. Don’t cause trouble.’”

Kang Yi Jun added nonsense, but Bodam, like a generous and mature adult, added a kind word telling him to focus on recovery.

Only when he recovered and the natural imprinting was severed could Bodam return home with peace of mind.

“‘Otherwise, I won’t come again.’”

With his final words, he rose from the chair and turned his back.

Yi Jun, bound to the bed, neither called nor grabbed him, just as Bodam had said.

He merely,

“‘I’m sorry.’”

apologized.

It was a faint voice that couldn’t reach Bodam, who had already turned his back.

Even if they had been facing each other, it was an apology that would have bounced right off.

“‘Sit.’”

Seung Ho, confirming that Team Leader Kim was following Bodam out, released the restraining barrier, approached the bed, and spoke.

This was also Seung Ho’s first conversation with Yi Jun since the day Bodam had submitted his resignation and left.

Creak.

Seung Ho pushed the portable chair Bodam had been sitting on aside and stood at the head of the bed.

Even though he was clearly awake, Kang Yi Jun kept his mouth shut and only pointed his fingertips towards the door.

He was listening intently to Bodam’s fading footsteps.

At this, Seung Ho’s hand, which had blocked the door with a barrier, went up.

Beep- beep- beep-.

Seung Ho, disregarding the machine lines, grabbed Yi Jun’s neck and forcibly pulled him up.

As the electrode pads connected to his dark blue body fell off, alarm bells rang from all directions.

Seung Ho, placing a barrier around the murmuring group of researchers, pulled back the black cloth covering Yi Jun’s eyes.

“‘Ah-.’”

Yi Jun, squinting at the light he saw for the first time in months, finally opened his mouth.

A blurry groan escaped him from the stinging brightness in his eyes.

“‘Listen carefully. Kang Yi Jun.’”

Seung Ho, tightening his grip on Yi Jun’s neck, said.

He pulled Yi Jun’s face closer to meet his gaze and made them face each other.

“‘If you violate the rules one more time in the future, I’ll make both unusable.’”

With the hand not gripping his neck, he pointed at Yi Jun’s eyes and then his arm, warning him.

Espers who couldn’t be controlled were treated the same as monsters.

Especially high-risk mental-type Espers lost one sense each time they broke a rule.

It meant taking away their sight and touch, which they used to wield their abilities.

“‘The place you lived and the Center are different.’”

Amidst the loud alarms, Seung Ho’s low voice settled the atmosphere down.

He reminded Yi Jun of the warnings he had received since the first day he set foot in the Center.

Even though he roamed the gates more actively than anyone else and acted as if monster hunting was his calling, Kang Yi Jun was the same age as the novices who had just joined the Center.

“‘If you want to live comfortably, play nicely within the lines we’ve set.’”

If it had been another Esper, it wouldn’t have ended with just a warning, but he was someone the Center couldn’t easily discard.

However, they weren’t going to continuously release a ticking time bomb that lit its own fuse.

Precarious lines wrapped around Attack Team 3’s fence.

Their freedom was only allowed within the boundaries the Center’s broad influence provided.

“‘Wow-.’”

Yi Jun spoke in a deeply resonant voice.

Looking at his reflection in Seung Ho’s eyes.

“‘Bo…dam, hyung… has a strong stomach.’”

Yi Jun, squinting eyes that kept wanting to close, scrutinized his own face.

He used Seung Ho like a mirror, closing his ears to the surrounding sounds.

His face, covered in a hard shell, was hideous.

Not one feature—eyes, nose, or mouth—was presentable.

He chuckled blankly, thinking of the guide who had seen and even touched this.

Then, a wide palm immediately covered his face.

CRUNCH.

With the sound of the wall breaking, Yi Jun’s head slammed into the wall.

Seung Ho, who had instantly grabbed Yi Jun’s face and pinned him to the wall, continued in a calm voice that was the complete opposite of his actions.

“‘Don’t touch Yoon Bodam.’”

His flat tone was the same as usual, yet an unusually savage aura permeated it.

Yi Jun, opening only one eye through Seung Ho’s fingers covering his dark blue face, opened his ears for the first time.

He took in each of the words Seung Ho muttered.

A small groan escaped his lips, which were parted with his jaw dislocated.

Ah….

It was a sound indicating realization.

‘A lot happened while I was asleep.’

Even without reading the thoughts of Seung Ho, a barrier Esper, he understood naturally.

A mind that couldn’t be hidden even by a barrier was read without a mental-type ability.

And at the same time, his eyes closed.

***

Ji Oh, who had moved to the civilian area after receiving a call, had a mouthful of curses.

Not seeing Yoon Bodam for a long time made him angry, but the main reason he was even more infuriated was the sheer embarrassment.

The more he thought about it, the more humiliating it was.

To be seen for the first time in two months in a state of having been attacked and unconscious.

‘f*ck’ he swore, vowing to kill whoever the bastard was who threw him if he ever met him.

“‘Esper Min Ji Oh! This way, please.’”

Ji Oh, who had been engrossed in his curses, reluctantly moved his feet at the sound of someone calling him.

He had no desire to work at all, but if he kept refusing calls, he’d be summoned to the Center Director’s office.

That was the absolute last thing he wanted.

“‘…….’”

Ji Oh, who had been unhappily scanning the unorganized atmosphere, suddenly stopped walking.

Because the problem had coincidentally occurred in the heart of a bustling downtown area with high pedestrian traffic, the faces of all the barrier Espers controlling the vicinity were grim.

Min Ji Oh’s pale face, standing stark among them like a spotlight, looked down at his watch.

“‘You can transport civilians, right? There are injured people.’”

A barrier Esper who had been waiting for Ji Oh approached and asked.

Even A-class Teleport Espers often found it difficult to transport civilians.

This was because it wasn’t easy to control their abilities to ensure no harm came to civilians who had no immunity to Esper waves.

“‘Esper Min Ji Oh?’”

In the midst of urgency, the barrier Esper cautiously called Ji Oh again, who remained unresponsive.

He just watched for a reaction, wondering if another call would result in a torrent of curses.

“‘Here….’”

Ji Oh, muttering to himself in a voice too quiet for even an Esper to hear, checked the coordinates.

It was near the neighborhood where Yoon Bodam’s house was located.