Chapter 41
“Time’s running out before the selection test. What do you think Chanhee’s chances are of getting a first-grade ranking?”
Kim Guhyeon’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. Every time I looked at him, the memory of that gun in his hand flashed before my eyes, making it impossible to focus.
“I don’t know,” I answered vaguely.
His expression remained unreadable. “Ninety percent of rankers spend their lives stuck with the grade they get in the second selection test.”
“I’m aware.”
“After seventeen, improving your stats gets a lot harder than before.”
“…I know.”
“I don’t want the Director’s son carrying around a stain like that.”
When I didn’t respond, Kim Guhyeon patted my shoulder as he walked past. I followed him into the Combat Division lobby, heading toward the underground training ground like always.
“Chief Kim,” I called out suddenly, remembering something.
He turned, slightly puzzled. “If it’s alright, could I go see my brother for a moment before we continue?”
***
The memorial wall in the lounge bore the names of every ranker who had died in Combat Division missions. I glanced at Kim Guhyeon before scanning the list. Yu Dohyun was there, as I’d seen before, but I needed to find a name further down—someone who had died much earlier. Before Dohyun, there was only one Kim listed as a team leader.
“Kim Hyunmin…”
Kim Hyunmin, Team Leader of Gate Management Division 1, Combat Division. The letters were clear, unmistakable. This had to be the man Kim Guhyeon had pointed a gun at. I stole a glance at him. He was checking his watch, his face indifferent.
“Chief Kim.”
“Hm?”
“Are all the fallen recorded here? Every single one?”
He nodded silently. I hesitated, then chose my words carefully. “Do you… have anyone you knew listed here too?”
Kim Guhyeon paused, studying me. I tried to act casual, running my fingers over the names as if I were just another curious candidate.
“A few, probably.”
“Most die fighting monsters, right?”
“Usually. But there are always groups that resent the government’s handling of rankers. Many have died at their hands. Dohyun, for example.”
I nodded. Everyone knew Dohyun had been killed by an anti-government faction. The fact that Han Jaemin’s parents were behind it was a secret buried deep within Crush.
“You’re interested in anti-government groups?”
Kim Guhyeon seemed to think I was just asking out of curiosity. After a moment, I shook my head, feigning innocence. “I just got curious about the stories of the fallen.”
I fumbled, pretending to search for more words, drawing his attention back to the list. “Like my brother… I wonder how it must feel to die at someone’s hands instead of a monster’s.”
It was a lie. I didn’t care about their sense of injustice. In fact, I was part of the very group they would despise. The hypocrisy of pretending otherwise made me sick.
“Injustice is everywhere.”
“Is there no way to make it less?”
Kim Guhyeon carried his own guilt, just like me. “I don’t know. Maybe if the world gets better, things will change.”
A naive thought. Even if the world improved, the guilty would still have to pay. That was the only way anything would truly change.
***
Finding anything about Kim Hyunmin was harder than I expected. All I uncovered was that he had died twelve years ago in the Sinuiju Gate Tragedy. The reports said everyone in the subjugation team had perished—except for one survivor. I didn’t need confirmation to know who that was.
[…The Sinuiju Gate had been classified as B-grade, and the team sent in was more than capable of handling it. The lone survivor, referred to only as ‘K,’ claimed it was ‘far harder than an A-grade gate.’ After the incident, the Combat Division reformed its internal protocols, and gate classifications became more precise. Since survival can’t be confirmed unless someone exits the gate, the tragedy remains shrouded in mystery. Still, the ‘Sinuiju Gate Tragedy’ serves as a warning—never underestimate a gate based on its grade.]
I paused the old news footage. The survivor’s face was blurred, but I knew—‘K’ was Kim Guhyeon. This clip was the only lead I had. The Sinuiju Gate Tragedy was occasionally mentioned in discussions about mass casualties, but no one ever spoke of Kim Hyunmin. It wouldn’t surprise me if someone had buried the truth on purpose.
Normally, I would have asked Han Jaemin for help, but after our last conversation, reaching out felt awkward. The memory of his indifferent expression when he asked if I liked Yu Hyunjae still stung.
I opened the book Han Jaemin had given me days ago—Applications of Necromancy. It contained advanced mana techniques far beyond anything taught in basic texts.
‘This is probably the only book with records this detailed.’
Han Jaemin had been right. Necromancy was a taboo, almost a myth, even among professional hunters. The chaotic mana manipulation described in its pages was nothing like what we learned in school—or what Kim Guhyeon would ever approve of. If Chanhee hadn’t been a natural first-grade, he might not have been able to follow it at all.
<Advanced Technique ‘Applications of Necromancy’ has begun. Progress to first summon: 70%>
I bit my lip. The progress bar was already at 70%. I knew I’d have to do this eventually, but the fear still gripped me.
***
After that, my days felt like a blur. Preparing for the selection test, mastering necromancy, digging into Kim Hyunmin—it was all too much. Even when I ran into Yu Hyunjae in the living room, our conversations were short. I wanted at least one real talk with him before the test, so I asked him to go to a café with me.
“How’s your prep for the selection test going?”
Yu Hyunjae thought for a moment, then shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t tell if I’m doing well or not.”
It made sense. Unlike everyone else, he’d awakened his mana late, with no one to guide him. In the original story, he only awakened after I died, learning from the people around him. But here, in this twisted version of events, the only person he had was me. The fear that this life, too, might end in death gripped me—yet there was also a strange relief.
Because I wouldn’t have to see the disappointment in his eyes.
Did he know? That I’d been with him far longer than he realized?
I looked at the matcha latte in front of him. We didn’t drink Americano anymore. Now, we weren’t even drinking coffee. Some things never changed.
“You’ve seemed really busy lately.”
“Tutoring,” I said. “What else?”
“You look tired.”
“Do I?”
I laughed lightly. “Will you help me?”
“With what?”
“I’m looking for someone connected to my father.”
Yu Hyunjae looked confused. Investigating my father probably seemed odd to him, but he didn’t press. Instead, he just said, “I want to help you.”
“Why?”
“I told you. I’m trying to understand why I feel this way.”
“Mm.”
“This is part of it. Being with you.”
I chuckled, dropping my gaze, embarrassed. “I want to handle this on my own.”
I already knew Yu Hyunjae wouldn’t be much help finding Kim Hyunmin. Or rather, I was certain he wasn’t connected to it. In his world, the only person who mattered was me.
“Alright. Let me know if you need anything.”
He smiled softly. As I smiled back, I thought: How wonderful it would be if every moment from now on could stay with him—vivid, unbroken—until the day he dies.
