Do people think everyone’s like themselves?

When I gave him a look that said I was speechless, Yun added a dry explanation.

“What do you think is the meaning of a test?”

“It’s to assess skill.”

“Right. The promotion test exists to confirm whether you can pull your own weight as a Badger.”

Yun pulled a chair and sat down.

“If you already have the ability to do your share on a normal day, there’s no need to worry about the test.”

“No, but I should at least know what they’ll be testing.”

“They’re all things you’ll learn before the test anyway. Shooting, swimming, airborne drills, climbing, and so on.”

I’d probably fail the shooting part already.

The convenient thing about talking to Yun was that he could read my expression and know exactly what I was about to say.

The terribly pragmatic man gave the precise answer without me even asking.

“You’ll meet the shooting standard by then.”

“...Really? Still, I’d like to know the details about the exam.”

“You’re not supposed to cram right before it. You study daily and confirm your skill through the test — that’s how it should be.”

Yun was saying something that could make even the Elders cry with how absurdly old-fashioned it sounded.

Just as I was about to point out that his words were painfully conservative, my superior suddenly changed his tone.

“Whenever I say things like that, Yehyeon gets mad too.”

He gave a small shrug, which was almost funny.

“So it must be the kind of remark that really irritates people, huh?”

“You’re aware of it? Good grief.”

“But I still don’t get why you’re so worried about the test.”

Yun said something unbelievable and crossed his legs.

“Soon I’ll be the one learning from you. What’s there to worry about?”

It felt like I’d been hit in the back of the head.

I stared blankly at him, mouth half-open, unable to react.

We were in that damned single room again.

Only the faint buzzing of medical robots wheeling through the corridor could be heard.

I only snapped out of it once the sound of their wheels faded.

“What do you mean by that?”

I couldn’t help putting emphasis on “what.”

Yun gave a short laugh, amused by my reaction.

“What, did that surprise you so much?”

“Wouldn’t it surprise anyone?”

“Every time I train you, that thought comes to ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) mind.”

Does this man have something to ask of me?

Why suddenly act like this? Why flatter me of all people? He’s not someone who praises others just to make them feel good.

Ah.

Was this a setup to get me onto the operating table again?

“I’m not getting on the table.”

“You’ll have to be opened up sooner or later, before you regain your full ability.”

Yun ignored my protest smoothly and kept talking.

His hand went toward his pocket, then stopped mid-way — realizing this was a hospital room.

Instead of taking out a cigarette, the man crossed his arms, his lips twisting into an ominous smile.

“Even now, during training, I nearly lose my head to you sometimes.”

“I haven’t put a single scratch on your body yet.”

“Only because you’re still dull. I don’t know what you’ve been doing for the past decades, but that much idleness isn’t filled in easily.”

...He’s choking me up.

Decades of absence — the time gap between when my memory was cut off and when I fell out of the Portal.

I had no idea where I’d been or what I’d done in that gap.

But Yun didn’t give me time for sentiment; he threw rapid punches of words.

“If your speed had been even slightly faster, there were several moments my head would’ve been off. You’ve got real talent for radiating killing intent without malice.”

“...That’s unlike you. Why say all this?”

“I’m just stating facts.”

Then the man held out his phone to me.

I took it and looked at the screen. On it were a phone number and a name.

[Gabby]

...I stared for a moment before saving it.

“...Thank you.”

“The strongest living human in terms of combat ability is Lee Seunghyun.”

I slowly lifted my head.

Then instinctively scanned the surroundings. The hospital room was still quiet. As Yehyeon had said, there were ears outside every office, but no one beyond the Elders would be listening here.

Choi Yun wasn’t a careless man.

“The First Hands standing beside the Elders are about equal overall. Meaning the redhead and the blond beside that platinum pervert, combined, barely equal Lee Seunghyun’s worth. Jaeyeon would lose to him by a hair in a clean match, but outside a fair ring, he often beats Seunghyun.”

I see.

I remembered that Seunghyun was outstanding — no, among all the people I’d taught, he was naturally exceptional. So much so that we barely had any casual conversations.

But then...

I blinked and asked,

“And where do you place yourself?”

“Me? I’m about on par with Jaeyeon.”

What?

So someone that skilled just told me, “Soon I’ll be the one learning from you”?

“Yehyeon’s slightly better than me, but he’s learned helplessness. In front of Jaeyeon, he can’t even lift a hand.”

“I’m still far from catching up to either of you.”

“For now, yes.”

Yun said that and raised one corner of his mouth.

“So I’m telling you — when you visit, be careful not to suffer the humiliation of getting beaten by your own pupil, old man.”

A chill ran through me.

I almost dropped the phone I was holding. Frozen in place, I stared at my superior’s wicked grin.

This lunatic...

Shaking, I barely forced out words.

“Please don’t speak to me so politely.”

He lifted an eyebrow.

“I’m begging you.”

Naturally, Yun didn’t answer.

***

I went to see Asil.

Right after discharge. He’d been released a day later than me. He was supposed to leave sooner, but his condition had worsened once midway through.

Fortunately, he looked fine now.

Though he could leave immediately, procedure meant he’d officially be discharged tomorrow. The senior sitting in his private room watched me as I entered.

Blue eyes narrowed slightly.

“How’s your condition?”

That was the first thing he said as soon as I sat down.

“I heard you had a chest tube.”

“I’m fine now.”

Asil didn’t look convinced.

So, still seated, I rambled about everything that had happened. How the surgery went, what I did while hospitalized, how my current condition was.

I even told him the result of the arena incident.

Our presence there had been erased from the news.

Instead, reports said a Creature rampaged and the stadium collapsed. The police’s inaction, the existence of Green Dream, and the fact that Black Badgers stood in the arena — all buried. Public opinion declared, “Those who commit crimes like that deserve to die.”

“Neatly done,” Asil murmured.

He was referring to Yehyeon, of course. He must think it was solely Yehyeon’s doing that the media was suppressed.

I didn’t correct him.

Instead, I thought of the announcer who had listed off our pasts and replied,

“At least it’s a relief the rumor didn’t spread.”

Asil turned from the window to look at me.

“Sorry I overheard, senior.”

I wanted to give that same apology to Ricardo too.

But he’d already returned to duty outside the Core, leaving only one message: “See you at the year-end party~.”

I wondered if he’d rested properly.

Frowning slightly, I thought of my senior who had probably worked himself ragged.

“Don’t worry about it. Everyone knows most of it anyway,” he said bluntly.

I see.

“If anything, I should apologize. The mafia probably planned that mess because people like us keep getting assigned to those missions.”

Well, probably.

Resentment toward the Badgers must have piled up, and then Marie whispered her sweet offer — that I still had the Green Dream, so we might as well use it to their advantage.

There’s no way the mafia could resist an offer that sweet.

But that wasn’t the seniors’ fault.

Even if I argued that, it wouldn’t change anything.

So I changed the topic.

“May I ask you something, sir?”

“What is it?”

Asil gave me a questioning look.

I went straight to the point.

“Why did you grab Yun by the collar?”

His expression shifted strangely.

Asil stayed silent for a long while with that ambiguous look before speaking softly.

“You remember that cop.”

“Jaeyeon.”

“Yes.”

“He killed the Chief of Police right in front of me and disappeared.”

As expected.

“I kept tracking his whereabouts afterward but got nowhere. It was like I’d been dreaming — every photo, video, and report with him in it vanished.”

Of course. Jaeyeon was someone who could not be recorded.

I knew there was a team dedicated to erasing his digital traces — CCTV, cameras, everything. They were paid by Colton to do that full-time. Some even erased his biological traces — hair, fingerprints, saliva.

No ordinary detective could find him.

“That’s why I became a Badger.”

“I see.”

“Even after joining, I couldn’t find a hint of him for a long time.”

Naturally.

How could an ordinary Black Badger possibly find Jaeyeon—

“Until I saw Choi Yun coming out of the Aitek building with him.”

What?

Ah. The realization hit me.

So that’s why he went to Yun the next day and grabbed him by the collar.

“I checked — it was the day of the shareholders’ meeting.”

“...I see.”

“Yun didn’t look too happy, but the two of them walked out together in suits, talking, and then disappeared. I stared like an idiot until they were out of sight, so I know I didn’t imagine it.”

“Why didn’t you question him after?”

Even if he’d been knocked out after grabbing him, he could’ve gone back later, apologized, and calmly asked. Especially since he’d searched for that man so long.

At my question, Asil’s brows furrowed slightly.

He stared at the bed rail without relaxing his expression.

“The Commander told me to drop it.”

“What?”

My voice jumped out stupidly.

Wait — he went directly to Yehyeon?

“She said I should already know he’s not someone I can arrest.”

His determination was crazy.

He must’ve just barged straight into headquarters. I could clearly imagine him storming past the secretaries while Yehyeon blinked in surprise.

He didn’t say what words passed between them, but Asil admitted that after that meeting, he’d half given up on catching Jaeyeon.

Until they met again at the Colosseum.

“When I’m discharged, I’ll go report to the boss.”

Please do. Though Yehyeon surely already knows.

“But you — forget it.”

Forget what?

Jaeyeon?

I gave him a puzzled look, and Asil fixed me with a serious gaze.

His next words dripped with sincerity.

“You’re quick-witted and perceptive for your age. You must understand why I’m saying this. Erase that cop from your mind completely.”

“Ah.”

“I mean it. It’s too dangerous.”

The ex-detective’s voice was firm, his face uneasy, worried that I might not listen.

“Forget you ever met him.”

If only it were that easy.

I swallowed the words that rose to my throat.

***

Time passed smoothly.

Center Core steadily sank into year-end mood. The cold air that made white breath form. Coats and padded jackets pulled close. People rushing about late into the night.

Shops gleamed with Christmas decorations, carols playing everywhere.

Restaurants were overflowing with year-end party reservations.

And I stood before a monotonous apartment building.

“Are you visiting someone?”

Standing idly in the lobby, I was approached by the security guard.

“Which unit, please?”

A high-end apartment in the heart of Center Core.

It was one of those old complexes always rumored for redevelopment.

Typical of him to live somewhere like this...

I glanced at my phone to answer.

“Unit 2102.”

“I’ll connect you to the intercom.”

“No, he said he’s not home yet.”

Staring at the curt reply, I murmured.

The voice in the message was low and cold — different from Choi Yun’s, but similar in chill. I thought that time had changed many things, yet not that.

“He said he’s on his way. I’ll just wait here in the lobby—”

“I’m here. Let’s go.”

Make some noise when you walk, will you.

A voice came from behind. I looked up, slipped the phone into my pocket, and turned.

A familiar face met mine.

Refined features, well-shaped lines, but a sharp, irritable expression — the man looked exactly like Yehyeon. Seeing him up close brought back long-forgotten memories.

My old pupil.

Lee Seunghyun.

The most gifted student I’d ever taught — now the biological father of my immediate superior.

“It’s been a while.”

“Let’s go up.”

He replied in that same unchanged tone and walked in.

“We’re both busy, after all.”

His personality hadn’t changed either.

Impressed despite myself, I followed him inside.