# Chapter 40
Kwon Jeonghoo continued speaking in a steady voice.
“As you know, the Atlantic is the whales’ Atlantis.”
Humpback whales, killer whales, blue whales.
The Atlantic was a blue paradise where various whales thrashed their massive bodies and flicked their tails.
When Yeo Dowoon, who had experience with coastal gates, immediately showed his distaste, only Cha Uihyeon, who had once gone whale hunting with him, seemed to understand and gently patted his shoulder.
“This mission’s going to be another hellish grind… hah. Right?”
Though he’d thrown out the words hoping for sympathy, Yeo Dowoon instead scolded him.
“Someone who just came back from recuperating on Jeju Island, what’s with the sighing?”
“…It wasn’t recuperation, it was a dispatch. I was selected because you all refused to go.”
But he didn’t avoid the shoulder pat. It was such a straightforward touch with no ulterior motives that you couldn’t find any sticky ulterior motives no matter how hard you looked. Even so, Yoon Minoh stared at the sight as if shocked.
His gaze looked like it could stab someone to death, so Cha Uihyeon smiled awkwardly and moved away from Yeo Dowoon.
Only then did Yoon Minoh withdraw his thorn-filled stare.
“How far has the monsterization progressed?”
Yeo Dowoon asked.
The reason attacking coastal gates felt unpleasant was because all sorts of parasitic monsters would emerge and wreak havoc. Those bastards were masters at hiding in host bodies and progressing monsterization.
When faced with the tragedy of gentle, ordinary fish transforming into vicious man-eating fish and causing countless casualties, it was enough to stir up hatred.
Moreover, this gate that had erupted after several years was said to be connected all the way to the Atlantic, making Yeo Dowoon even more disgusted.
Humpback whales, and what else?
The sound of tongues clicking could be heard here and there as people complained that they were now going to see man-eating whales too. Ko Ijae was already trying to predict their delayed return time with a pale face.
“We are going to the ocean, right?”
Yoon Minoh, who had focused on the most useless information from the briefing, stood close to Yeo Dowoon and asked.
But Yeo Dowoon was too busy suspecting Kwon Jeonghoo’s silence to pay any attention to Yoon Minoh’s attention-seeking. Kwon Jeonghoo only gave his belated answer about the monsterization after pausing as if in contemplation.
“Cannot be confirmed.”
“Didn’t the Gyeonggi branch even send an advance team?”
“They say the survival signals were cut off after encountering the monsters, so by now they’re either dissolving in stomach acid or struggling to survive. One of the two.”
At those words, the noisy atmosphere suddenly fell silent. A stern yet solemn light flickered in Kwon Jeonghoo’s eyes.
Delta’s members sometimes treated gate and dungeon conquests as child’s play and looked down on them.
This was partly due to their individual exceptional abilities, but also because once they entered missions, they always achieved minimal casualties and maximum conquest rates.
“All A-class members from the Gyeonggi branch are in an uncommunicable state.”
Kwon Jeonghoo, who had been establishing mental resonance connections with each member beforehand, gestured toward Yeo Dowoon as he spoke.
The news that all A-class members had been wiped out was unbelievable, but there was no particular response to give back. Yeo Dowoon sluggishly stepped forward and felt Kwon Jeonghoo’s fingers fidgeting near his ear as he asked.
“What are the chances they’re alive— eugh.”
“…Only adding to the resistance.”
“What are you doing?”
“Connecting.”
It was pure nonsense. He had never once heard that mental resonance could be connected through physical contact. But Kwon Jeonghoo just pressed and pulled at his earlobe with a shameless face.
Unable to endure the harassment any longer, Yeo Dowoon threatened him.
“What are you doing in front of these idiots, they’ll misunderstand.”
“I’m in the middle of connecting.”
It was when the finger that had been pressing down along his ear swept across the tender flesh where it connected to his neck.
“Ah…!”
In that moment, Yeo Dowoon let out a single gasp and inhaled sharply while grabbing his own ear. A natural red flush rose to his face. At the same time, an eerie presence burrowed into his head.
“Connection complete, now go back to your position.”
The mental resonance had actually succeeded.
“…Since when did perverted acts become a connection method?”
“Well. Probably since you became stronger than me.”
It was an acknowledgment without bravado.
Kwon Jeonghoo didn’t furrow his brow, nor did he glare as if feeling wronged. Nor was he proud – it was literally just acknowledgment.
He simply looked at his disciple whom he had raised and the younger brother to whom he had given his heart, speaking calmly.
“This mission absolutely cannot succeed without resonance.”
His final words came out as desperately as someone worrying about a lover.
“Because you have to go in directly.”
“Go where?”
“Where else? Inside the monster’s belly.”
“Ah. So you’re telling me to die?”
Kwon Jeonghoo, who had been rummaging through his pockets as if looking for cigarettes, smiled wryly as he answered.
“Don’t do that. It’ll tear hyung’s heart apart.”
***
Inside the helicopter bound for Yeongjong Island.
Someone was sleeping with an eye mask on, while someone else was killing time admiring the passing clouds beyond the window.
Yet another someone was fighting off drowsiness while listening to the sound of turning pages. But the calm noise amidst the silence kept making Yeo Dowoon’s eyelids grow heavy.
When Yeo Dowoon began nodding off as if his head might touch the window, Cha Haseong stopped turning his book pages and stared at him quietly.
Transparent direct sunlight gently settled over Yeo Dowoon’s face, which had a particularly sharp profile and a very neat nose tip. His delicate eyelashes twitched slightly as if the light was dazzling.
“Dowoon-ssi.”
Cha Haseong, who had placed his bookmark on page 97, called his name.
Startled, Yeo Dowoon lifted his eyelids and realized he had been watching him, then coughed awkwardly in embarrassment. Then Cha Haseong asked nonchalantly.
“Should I switch seats with you?”
Though it was a kindness born from good intentions, Yeo Dowoon shook his head a few times to indicate he was fine. He pulled down the shade that had been hanging lonely by the window with a rustling sound and smiled neatly.
But even that couldn’t completely block out the sunlight, as thin rays of sunshine still poured down, tickling his skin.
“…Huh?”
When Yeo Dowoon tried to tilt his head to the side to get comfortable again, Cha Haseong wrapped his hand around the back of his neck and redirected him toward his own shoulder.
The harsh man who had poured out criticism about condom usage had completely disappeared somewhere, and he was once again showing warm kindness that confused Yeo Dowoon.
“…I’m fine.”
Perhaps that’s why Yeo Dowoon, who deliberately used a stiff tone in response, purposely acted indifferent to avoid being conscious of the scent of cologne emanating from him. The sensation of their arms lightly touching was unbearably lovely.
He had tried so hard to erase the fact that Cha Haseong was sitting next to him, yet his wariness melted away again at this simple contact, which felt absurdly pathetic.
‘Why is that parasite bastard sitting next to hyung?’
If he had known this would happen, he should have been stubborn and made Yoon Minoh sit next to him.
But he was in a position where he had to keep a guide by his side until mission deployment due to the possibility of going berserk, and Yoon Minoh had been dragged away by Baek Seonwoo, who was obsessed with corrupting his juniors’ character.
‘You look like a parasite too, bastard.’
Yoon Minoh, who was forcibly seated next to Baek Seonwoo, had to respond to his tedious chatter for dozens of minutes just like Yeo Dowoon had experienced as a rookie.
If he didn’t, Baek Seonwoo would continue throwing leading questions like “Hm? Hm? Hm?” to exhaust his opponent’s patience. Yoon Minoh, who had been carelessly spitting out random responses, glanced back at Yeo Dowoon with a tearful expression. But as soon as their eyes met, he threw him a skillful wink.
The way he even licked his lips seemed quite talented at tormenting people’s minds.
Naturally, Cha Haseong must have also witnessed that brazen behavior, but he indifferently opened his book.
“Tell me if your neck hurts.”
His elegant fingers crossed over the pure white pages and black text, creating a quiet atmosphere.
That scene invaded Yeo Dowoon’s vision just like when a drunk Cha Haseong had played the piano keys.
The truth that had risen to his throat urged Yeo Dowoon to confess his sins right now. An agitated voice flowed from his parted lips.
“Guide-nim.”
“Yes, Dowoon-ssi.”
“I… might die today.”
“Is that so?”
Though he hadn’t thrown out those words expecting encouragement to return alive or worries about coming back uninjured, Cha Haseong seemed much more indifferent to his death than expected.
He could have used his indifference as grounds to dismiss his own guilt, but Yeo Dowoon persistently asked.
“That thing I mentioned before, do you still have no intention of hearing it?”
He worried that if he died, he wouldn’t be able to open his mouth anymore, so shouldn’t he confess his sins before leaving? Moreover, he had absolutely no desire to steal his memories and disappear forever like this.
But Cha Haseong responded coolly as if he’d heard a clichéd and boring story.
“I suppose so.”
The book he was reading was an unfamiliar novel with a title Yeo Dowoon had never heard before. For the first time, Yeo Dowoon felt disappointed in his own ignorance.
Balzac. He chewed over those two syllables and thought endlessly.
If only he had known a little more about that book, if he had been more knowledgeable than now, couldn’t this relationship that always seemed to get tangled and twisted have found a proper trajectory?
