The inside was exactly what I expected from him.

I let out a hollow laugh as I looked around the kitchen and living room, furnished with the bare minimum. It felt like stepping into a model house or a rental condo. The place was spacious, but the lack of belongings made the air feel cold.

A single book with a bookmark sticking out was the only sign that someone actually lived here.

Lee Seunghyun poured me tea.

“No need for a preface.”

The man sat across from me, his face unchanged from before. It baffled me that I hadn’t recognized him immediately.

He’d always been quiet and rigid among the soldiers.

Even back then, he hated small talk.

“At least a teacher can ask how his student’s been.”

“You couldn’t even recognize me at first, and now you’re trying to make small talk.”

...Busted.

There was nothing I could say to that. Colton had recognized me at a glance, yet I hadn’t recognized Lee Seunghyun right away.

I gave an awkward smile and looked aside.

“Sorry. But, you know, I’d even forgotten I wasn’t human.”

“I heard.”

“I still don’t remember everything.”

Lee Seunghyun didn’t move.

His gaze was sharp, piercing — the kind that had probably never wavered once in his life. I met that gaze and sank into memory.

‘How about training them yourself?’

A familiar voice echoed in my head, though I couldn’t recall the name. Someone close to me had suggested it — that I take charge of training the group of soldiers before me.

Those soldiers had been handpicked from every nation.

‘Is there anything else you can even do right now?’

It wasn’t Colton who said it.

Who was it, then? It hadn’t been Kyle or Rei. They would never have suggested such a thing.

But it wasn’t Eve, either.

Eve.

The scent of roasted barley tea tickled my nose.

“Do you remember Eve?”

Lee Seunghyun’s brow furrowed.

“I only recalled her recently.”

She used to say blue hair was her “life color.”

She always dyed her roots blue, and when she was bored, she’d color the inner layers something else — usually purple.

She said she liked the strange harmony between blue and violet.

Eve was a genius genetic engineer.

“So you really have forgotten everything,” he said coldly.

Lee Seunghyun sat there, arms crossed, glaring at me.

“I’ve never met that scientist.”

“Really? You say that, but maybe that’s true.”

“And forgive me, but I can’t tell you much.”

His tone was purely official.

“I wasn’t authorized to.”

“By Sukhoi? But they said they wanted me to regain my memories.”

“I wasn’t ordered to help you do so.”

A soldier to the bone.

I sipped the barley tea and stared flatly at my former pupil.

He’d been surprisingly willing to give me his address and allow the visit, so I’d expected a conversation that at least felt human. Clearly, that had been optimistic.

When I asked why he’d called me here if this was all he was going to say, Lee Seunghyun unfolded his arms.

“There’s something to return.”

“A game?”

I answered reflexively, and he gave me a look that said I was an idiot.

“You still play those?”

“...You people never miss a chance to look down on my gaming habits, do you.”

Old-fashioned bastards.

At this point, I should probably print a research paper about gaming’s cognitive benefits and distribute it to the Elders. Not that they’d ever read it — they’re the sort who spend weekends at the opera.

Hmm?

Wait a second.

“So you never bought Yehyeon a game?”

Lee Seunghyun froze halfway through pushing back his chair.

He turned to me with an expression like I’d just insulted him.

“I don’t want to discuss personal matters.”

“And you said you weren’t authorized to discuss official ones.”

“Then I’ll say I don’t wish to talk about family matters.”

“Well, it’s not really my place to pry.”

Back then, I hadn’t spared a single thought for his private life.

But I wasn’t about to back down now. I’d come here for a reason, and I meant to leave with what I wanted.

Still, pushing further now would only backfire.

I waved a hand instead. “So what was it you wanted to return?”

He gave me a brief glance, then stood up and disappeared into the inner room. Whatever it was, it must’ve been stored inside.

I waited, sipping the mildly warm tea.

The house was eerily quiet.

Before long, Lee Seunghyun returned — his footsteps heavier than before.

I could hear the weight of a blade in each step.

“Ah.”

A familiar dagger.

It wasn’t one I had used, but one my comrade had carried. The sheath had failed to hold the blade properly, so it had been bound tightly in worn cloth.

I’d once told him it was a fine weapon — to repair the sheath and keep it. But the owner hadn’t been a swordsman; he was an archer. So the dagger had rarely seen use, and the sheath had never been fixed.

Nol. That stubborn fool.

“I received this from one of your subordinates. Take it.”

Lee Seunghyun placed the weapon before me.

“I kept it because I couldn’t find a proper time to return it.”

“Nol is dead?”

He didn’t look away.

“Yes.”

The plain, heavy answer punched a hole straight through my chest.

I slowly lifted the dagger, blinking. Every time I faced something like this, the memories that surfaced were razor-sharp.

He hadn’t listened, but he’d followed me earnestly. That made it worse.

“Did I betray him too?”

Lee Seunghyun’s eyebrows twitched at the muttered words.

From the corner of my eye, I saw him lower his head slightly to study my face.

In the dark eyes of my rigid student, confusion stirred.

“No. You didn’t.”

Even his voice carried faint bewilderment.

“I wouldn’t be holding an enemy’s weapon, would I?”

I stared up at him for a long time.

Trying to sort through the whirlwind of memories. Nol had been a Titan, that much was certain. I’d fought beside him. A stubborn, skilled archer.

He’d nodded when I said we would leap together into the abyss.

But if Lee Seunghyun didn’t see him as an enemy—

Then that meant...

The thought made my stomach twist. I wanted to ask, but I didn’t have the courage yet.

So I asked something else instead. Something I’d meant to ask anyway.

“My sword.”

“Yes.”

“Why did you give it to Yehyeon?”

My student, who had been watching me from under his brows, straightened his back.

His sharp, authoritative air returned as he crossed his arms again.

“Did Iehyeon fail to handle it properly?”

Good grief.

I caught the irritation laced in the way he said Iehyeon’s name and opened my mouth.

“No, no!”

I quickly corrected the misunderstanding.

“You saw the footage, didn’t you? His swordsmanship was flawless. You taught him well.”

“His draw is a bit slow.”

“That’s because the sword’s heavy for him! And it’s not slow enough to matter.”

Unbelievable.

He was nitpicking the very footage that had turned an unknown Yehyeon into a hero of the chaos. I understood what he meant, of course — but it wasn’t a problem. The attack had succeeded perfectly.

Rei had hesitated when he saw my sword...

My breath caught, but Lee Seunghyun filled the silence.

“If I or any of the others — the Titans — had wielded that sword, it wouldn’t have worked.”

“...You’re probably right.”

“That’s why we trained several candidates. He was simply the most talented of them.”

“Yehyeon?”

“Yes.”

So he hadn’t forced the weapon into Yehyeon’s hands or sent him to die. Yehyeon had simply been the most likely to succeed.

I stared blankly at the air for a moment, then said quietly, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For sending your son into hell.”

He didn’t answer right away.

The man looked down at me with an unreadable face. Only after I ran a hand over my face and sighed did he unfold his arms.

“At the time, everyone was already in hell.”

Not wrong.

“If anything, receiving your sword gave him a chance to survive until the end.”

Also not wrong.

“Everyone was staking their lives then. You yourself went out prepared to die with Kyle, didn’t you?”

...What?

I did?

“You disappeared after that, but so did Kyle.”

His unwavering gaze pierced through me.

That same sharp look I remembered from when we’d faced each other in the training hall with wooden swords.

If Lee Seunghyun had lived in that old world, Kyle would’ve made him his subordinate for sure. The man who’d been like a black lion always cherished those with dazzling talent — people like Seunghyun.

“If Kyle had joined the battle, we would’ve lost.”

I didn’t move for a long time.

Trying to hold down the surge of emotion. Even after hearing that, my own path remained blank.

Instead, other fragments rose — training soldiers, seeing Colton present them to me, Jaeyeon standing beside him, smirking.

Ah. Jaeyeon.

Let’s confirm it on the 26th.

I slowly opened my eyes and looked up at Lee ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) Seunghyun.

“My student.”

“...What is it?”

“I actually have a small favor to ask.”

He frowned at the address, then narrowed his eyes at what followed.

Suspicion crossed his face as he studied mine.

The answer came a few seconds late.

“Go ahead.”

I told him the favor plainly.

And just as Yun had warned, that day I almost got beaten half to death by my old pupil — by a storm of furious fists.

***

“Year-end party!”

Ami’s clear voice echoed down the corridor.

“It’s the year-end party!”

Yeah.

I was just glad to still be alive to attend one.

I walked through the cold halls of headquarters.

The reason was simple: the party was held near the top floor of the main building.

That’s right. The Black Badgers didn’t hold their year-end parties in ordinary restaurants. They rented out a wide, empty floor, called in a catering service, dismissed them afterward — and then the party began.

The reason? Drunk Badgers were dangerous.

For Tom and Hesh, this would be the first time drinking since receiving their enhanced bodies.

“What if we break something?” Tom asked nervously.

Ami looked up at him with a face full of radiant happiness.

“It’s fine! Everyone finds rookie mistakes cute!”

Then she wiped the smile clean and added,

“Anyone who doesn’t is trash. Tell me if someone gives you trouble.”

Surprisingly, even Yun was attending.

He’d said he’d come straight from the research wing after wrapping up his work. The fact that he’d show up at all was a shock.

When I asked why, my mentor answered tersely:

“Need to pick up Choi Ami.”

I didn’t ask further.

Evening was approaching. I got into the elevator with Ami and the other rookies. The leadership was expected to arrive about thirty minutes later — after visiting every Core and ending their rounds here, as tradition dictated.

Ding!

The elevator doors slid open.

Noise burst out immediately.

“Ami!”

“Shorty!”

“Oh, the rookies are here.”

Heads turned all at once.

Dozens of people looked at us and shouted greetings. Attendance wasn’t mandatory — some were on duty, others were recovering from injuries — so the turnout was impressive regardless.

Still, there were so many people.

So many unfamiliar faces that it made me dizzy.

“Oh! The famous white-haired kid’s here too!”