# Chapter 103
The remaining pill was a shape Dohyuk had never seen before. Dr. Choi, with a benevolent face like a god saving an ignorant believer, resolved Dohyuk’s doubts.
‘Choi Dohyuk Esper’s condition is extremely dangerous right now. We should consider that the monsterfication is progressing gradually. This medicine is poison to Choi Dohyuk Esper, but ultimately it will help him die like a human. Taking these two together means you won’t end up rotting like a monster. Take them the moment the rampage begins. So you can die with dignity as a human.’
Dohyuk, who had been facing Dr. Choi’s gentle expression, looked down at the pill he’d received.
‘I can’t commit suicide, Doctor. You know it’s not that I won’t, but that I can’t.’
Dohyuk responded to Dr. Choi as if sharing an uninteresting anecdote. At those words, Dr. Choi, who had briefly paused, lifted the corner of his mouth.
‘That might not be the case if a rampage begins. Anyway, keep it.’
A dubious smile spread over his lips, matching his ambiguous answer.
Still, it was perhaps fortunate that he wouldn’t have to make a disgraceful spectacle of himself. Dohyuk raised his gaze from his palm and smiled back as if drawn. The weight of death felt so light that it almost made him laugh hollowly.
*
Smooch.
Dohyuk blinked, awakened from his reverie by the soft sensation on his lips. Perhaps misunderstanding his slow response, Junseo gently patted Dohyuk’s back.
“If you’re tired, should I wash you?”
“I’m not a child.”
“I know. I’m trying to seduce you because I want to get close to you. If you were a child, it would be a crime, hyung.”
“…You’re getting more, explicit with your words.”
“Your face is red again. You’re getting cuter and cuter, hyung.”
“……”
When Dohyuk closed his mouth, having failed to get the upper hand, Junseo beautifully smiled and interlaced their fingers. Only then did Dohyuk smile back and grasp his hand in return. As Dohyuk gently stroked Junseo’s fingers, he suddenly recalled the past that already felt like ancient history. That day when they had a normal meal together like an ordinary couple and watched a movie.
“Should I buy you a ring?”
“A ring?”
“Actually, I’ve wanted to buy you a ring since we watched that movie last time. But I didn’t know your size. And I wasn’t sure what you’d like.”
A small laugh erupted. Junseo, his face happy even at these trivial words, narrowed his eyes in a smile and brushed his lips against Dohyuk’s. Saliva pooled, making the root of his tongue sticky.
“You were thinking that? Then shall we get fitted together on our next day off?”
“Hmm, together? I won’t be able to wear it on my hand though.”
He might melt it if he wore it on his hand and forgot about it. At Dohyuk’s matter-of-fact response, Junseo casually held his hand and kissed his ring finger.
“You can wear it on a necklace. That would look pretty.”
The pitch-black gaze that had been downcast rose again. The eyes that met his smiled softly. Dohyuk was so surprised by how gentle his own expression looked reflected in those eyes that he could only stare at Junseo without answering. It was an unfamiliar face.
***
The cold grew fierce. The crack in the peacefully continuing daily routine appeared as suddenly as the winter wind. Dohyuk couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw Seah coming out of the research building.
After standing blankly for a while staring at her small frame, Seah finally noticed Dohyuk and cheerfully waved her hand.
“Oh! Mister! Why has it been so hard to see you lately?”
Seah, who had rushed over, was wearing a pitch-black padded jacket with a hood pulled over her head, making her look even rounder and more childlike than usual. Her round eyes crinkled into a smile as she looked up at Dohyuk, full of the same vitality as always. But Dohyuk frowned, too preoccupied to return her greeting.
“Seah, what are you doing here?”
Seah tilted her body like a penguin.
“What? I came because Dr. Jeong called me. I’m finished now and heading back to the center.”
“…Why would Dr. Jeong call you? Who?”
“Oh, he’s been calling me occasionally for examinations recently. Dr. Jeong Byeongseok.”
Dohyuk unconsciously furrowed his brow. While it might be understandable before entering the center, prospective Espers affiliated with the Esper Training Center were typically managed by the center itself. There was no reason for Dr. Jeong to separately manage her when she wasn’t even an official Esper yet.
“It’s not even time for the regular physical examination.”
“Sometimes Dr. Jeong calls us for re-examination even after the center’s check-up. There are about three of us besides me, I think?”
“Center affiliates? Could you tell me the names of the others besides you, Seah?”
Dohyuk’s memory of what conversation he had with Seah before they parted was hazy due to his rising anxiety. After investigating the few names Seah had mentioned (though she wasn’t certain about them), Dohyuk eventually discovered that they all shared the common background of coming from facilities, and he was dumbfounded.
Hadn’t the experiments ended with Dohyuk’s failure?
Moreover, those who had contact with Dr. Jeong, including Seah, were three prospective Espers and one prospective Guide. All were ability users and far too valuable as personnel to be consumed as test subjects.
Everyone who had been used as test subjects so far, including Dohyuk, had been ordinary people. Those who, from the age of fifteen, were classified as ordinary citizens without showing even the slightest possibility of awakening.
It could have been an insignificant examination. Even for Dr. Jeong, human experimentation on ability users? There was no way headquarters would have approved this. Dohyuk hoped his anxiety was merely a useless delusion sprouting from his sensitivity as fertilizer.
And yet, indignation welled up within him.
Why Seah of all people?
He wanted nothing more than for Seah, who resembled Seoyeon, to be happy without reason. Was even that too much to ask?
He knew. He had projected his own comforting delusions onto Seah. Every time Seah smiled, he had the illusion that Seoyeon was smiling, and it felt like he was painting over his irreparably broken old memories with colorful hues.
His desire for Seah’s future to always be brilliant wasn’t entirely for Seah’s sake. It was merely disgusting self-consolation. But even if it was a vile delusion, Dohyuk wanted Seah to stand on a different path than his own. It was fine if they never met again. This quagmire was no place for Seah to enter, and she shouldn’t know about it either.
‘Do what you want to do.’
A familiar voice fluttered like an illusion from somewhere.
‘What if what I want to do is bad or displeasing to you?’
His mind, which had lived a lifetime hunting and slaughtering, flashed bright red. As shock and despair ebbed away like the tide, anger surged in like a flood. From the unofficial entrance to the research building, various plans built up like an elaborate, towering castle. The letters engraved on the blood-red flag of that castle were simple.
Let’s kill Dr. Jeong. Let’s end this long ill-fated relationship here so it doesn’t continue further. Killing a retired B-class Esper doctor without evidence would be infinitely easier than a dungeon mission.
It truly felt like becoming a monster. Only cruel and violent thoughts seethed in his mind. He even wondered if this was a precursor symptom of a rampage.
‘What does it matter?’
‘Of course it matters. If you were to dislike it…’
Dr. Jeong is a valuable talent. I must endure. Endure, bear it as usual, as if nothing has happened.
‘I’ll lose to you for life, hyung.’
Dohyuk stood up.
***
In the end, Dohyuk went to Dr. Jeong’s private room without prior notice. Not only the destroyed Building B, but Building A where Dr. Jeong’s private room was located was like a hometown to Dohyuk, so it was simple to infiltrate all the way to the research building corridor without being noticed by anyone.
Dr. Jeong’s private room was a sealed space except for a single door.
Dohyuk opened the door without even knocking. The door opened smoothly without a grating sound. The fluorescent light, white enough to dazzle the eyes, glossily colored Dohyuk’s moderately tanned skin. Despite his fairly large build, Dohyuk approached the desk without making a sound, only stopping his steps when he reached it. Dr. Jeong had his head buried over the desk, engrossed in reading something.
“Who is it?”
“Dr. Jeong.”
Only at Dohyuk’s answer did he raise his face. After confirming the visitor, Dr. Jeong squinted and cast a cold gaze. It was a clear expression of displeasure with the situation. Dr. Jeong greatly disliked when visitors didn’t knock. Yet ironically, he himself didn’t knock when invading others’ spaces, which meant that rather than valuing courtesy, he was simply uncomfortable with those who didn’t tremble before his authority.
“Choi Dohyuk Esper. What’s the matter? You didn’t need to come today.”
“I have a question, Doctor. Wasn’t the project deemed a failure?”
Only then did he stop flipping through the accumulated records and fold his arms. His squinting eyes remained unchanged.
“What are you suddenly talking about?”
“I mean exactly what I said. Even I, the last test subject of the twelfth project, was judged a failure, so isn’t this experiment clearly without hope? Why are you unofficially calling in ability users from the center?”
No sooner had Dohyuk finished speaking than a thick book crossed through the air. Although he could have easily avoided it, Dohyuk closed his eyes and took the hit. A dull pain spread from his chest where the book had struck.
