Taming the Obsessive Attachment

Even after having his family taken away… Seeing how things are going now, it seems like one day, he’ll even come to understand and accept that too.

Seriously, this is insane. Completely. Insanely deranged.

“I’m sick of it. Of your greatness, Seo Eui-woo. Why the hell are you still not satisfied?”

Talking about how things were the same even four years later, restless and impatient… What, is he jealous of himself or something?

Kwon Jae-jin furrowed his brows in frustration. Maybe because he had been in the bathtub for too long, he felt dizzy. His hands and feet were tingling, and his head felt sluggish.

“Seo Eui-woo, you’ve already had me in the palm of your hand for a long time… And yet, you insist on digging that fact up and shoving it right in my face. It’s exhausting.”

“……”

“You’re too greedy. And too obsessive.”

Yeah. He should at least acknowledge that.

Seo Eui-woo already had everything.

Kwon Jae-jin’s body, his emotions, his past, his future, his entire life…

Even without coveting him so desperately, it was all Seo Eui-woo’s anyway.

“It’s such a childish way of loving someone… That kind of romance.”

Ah. That was a mistake.

Seo Eui-woo narrowed his long eyes into slits.

“Romance… You say.”

“No, that was a slip of the tongue.”

“Are we… dating?”

“I said it was a mistake. The words just slipped out. Right now, this relationship can’t be defined in any way.”

“Then define it now. Let’s date.”

“…Haah, no.”

Did he even hear the part about being too greedy?

Jae-jin let out a series of exhausted sighs. At this point, he really just wanted to rest. To have some peace of mind, just for a while.

Jae-jin, his body slack, sank slightly beneath the water. Seo Eui-woo steadied him, sliding an arm under his armpits. As he did, he persistently toyed with a tiny, almost invisible mole, pressing and rubbing at it as he interrogated him.

“Why not? Why again?”

Ah, this reckless, wild bastard. He’s about to throw another tantrum.

Jae-jin shook his head in exasperation.

“Just… wait a little.”

“What, am I really that young to you?”

“Yes. You reek of immaturity. Completely useless. Maybe later.”

Right now, Kwon Jae-jin simply didn’t have the capacity for this.

Trying to indulge in a romantic relationship with Seo Eui-woo was out of the question—he hadn’t even sorted out his own emotions yet. At the very least, he needed time to claw his way out of the pit of buried feelings and recover.

“…My age isn’t something I can change. Jae-jin, you keep asking me for the impossible.”

Seo Eui-woo muttered, displeased. His voice was low, but there was an unmistakable sharpness to it, a dangerous edge. Jae-jin, however, chose to ignore it. He was simply too exhausted.

“You just need to wait quietly. It’s the easiest thing in the world.”

Avoiding Seo Eui-woo’s piercing gaze, Jae-jin turned his head away. His eyes wandered over to the bathroom wall, where water droplets clung to the cracked tiles, running down in uneven trails.

The bedroom was the same. And now even the bathroom was in this state.

Just how much had Seo Eui-woo struggled to suppress his powers for the house to end up so thoroughly shredded? The entire place was on the verge of collapse. For a brief moment, a pointless worry crossed Jae-jin’s mind—what if the house actually came crumbling down?

But… impossible, huh.

Impossible…

Staring blankly at the deep, jagged cracks, Jae-jin slowly lowered his eyelids.

As soon as he closed his eyes, sleep came creeping back in.

The sound of dripping water grew fainter and fainter in his ears.

“Seo Eui-woo, I have a favor to ask.”

“What is it? Say it.”

“Sometime… in the distant future.”

“Yeah?”

“If the day comes when I die… whether it’s from old age or illness, whatever it is… would you return my memories to me?”

He really needed to sleep a bit more.

And when he woke up, he should start eating properly again. It had been too long since he’d last exercised—he needed to stop holing up in the bedroom and start moving around, rebuilding his deteriorated body.

“……Ha.”

Seo Eui-woo let out a hollow breath, almost like a scoff.

No matter how far in the future that moment might be, the thought of Kwon Jae-jin’s death was something he absolutely could not accept.

His face hardened into an icy expression as he responded curtly.

“That’s impossible. I’ll definitely die before you, Jae-jin. Do you even know the average life expectancy of an Esper?”

“Well, yes, the odds of you dying in battle first are higher… but I am older than you. And you never know how things will turn out.”

With his eyes closed, Jae-jin couldn’t see Seo Eui-woo’s expression.

What kind of face was he making right now?

Those gray eyes—practically Jae-jin’s by now—what kind of color were they reflecting?

“…Did you think I ever expected to be suddenly caught in a gate and killed? And besides, maybe I was always meant to die four years from now.”

He had heard of such superstitions before.

That a person’s lifespan was predetermined, that from the moment they were born, the date of their death had already been decided.

If that were true, then no matter how much he struggled, no matter what he did to change the course of the future, Kwon Jae-jin might still end up dying in four years—on the exact same day he had died in his first life.

All that effort might mean nothing.

Jae-jin let out a quiet, breathy chuckle.

“Haha, so… if I really don’t make it, whether it’s four years from now or any time after that, if the point of no return ever comes…”

“……”

“Before I take my last breath… Let me remember my family. Give that back to me.”

By then, even failure wouldn’t matter.

And waiting in silence was the easiest thing to do.

***

The days dragged on in lukewarm monotony.

Kwon Jae-jin gradually returned to his usual routine, and Seo Eui-woo followed suit.

They fell asleep together tangled in the blankets, resumed eating proper meals and exercising, and in the end, even went back to guiding.

From the outside, it almost seemed like they had never fought at all, like everything had gone back to the way it used to be. But still, there were moments when an awkward silence stretched between them.

Jae-jin was sorting through his emotions.

Seo Eui-woo was waiting for him.

“I’ll be going now.”

“Yes, come back safely.”

Dressed in his black combat uniform, Seo Eui-woo received a brief send-off before stepping into the sterile transfer chamber.

He passed through the double doors and underwent a full-body sterilization process before stepping onto a circular platform. Pressing the button triggered the indicator light—it meant the synchronization was complete.

Before coordinate-based teleportation, this step was mandatory. After all, they couldn’t afford the disaster of two people overlapping during transit.

If two people appeared at the same coordinates simultaneously, the outcome was obvious even without firsthand experience.

Before long, a bright light spread out, and Seo Eui-woo, who had been standing on the platform, disappeared. Looked like he had departed safely for work.

Watching the shimmering light fragments disperse, Kwon Jae-jin slowly turned away.

Now that Seo Eui-woo was gone, he had time to himself.

Jae-jin considered hopping on the treadmill for a bit but instead chose to stay in the living room. He switched on the fireplace, its white brick facade illuminated as the gas ignition roared to life with a ffwoosh.

He figured he’d sit on the sofa for a while and relax, just watching the flames flicker.

…Hoo.

Jae-jin swallowed a heavy sigh and ran a dry hand over his face.

He wanted to return to how things were, but no matter what, everything felt different now.

It was as if a once-thriving garden had been completely devastated by a storm. Now, he had to reclaim the barren land, plant new seeds, and wait for flowers to bloom once more.

But when would they bloom? When would the soil become fertile again? He honestly had no idea.

After staring at the wavering flames in silence for a long while, Jae-jin lifted his head. Enough of the self-pity. He needed to move his body, break a sweat.

With newfound resolve, he rubbed his face a few more times with his palms before rising from the sofa.

He headed toward the second floor, where he had set up a home gym—but then, something outside caught his eye.

A dark shadow.

Since this secluded villa was nestled atop a forested mountain estate, wild animals were a common sight. Squirrels were frequent visitors, and he’d even spotted raccoons and owls on occasion.

But this shadow—this shape—was much larger and far more ominous than any animal he had ever seen.

It was crouched low beside a boulder, making it difficult to discern its exact form. But the sharply pointed ears sticking out and those piercing eyes… something about it sent a chill down his spine.

A wolf…?

Curious, Jae-jin moved closer to the living room window.

If he drew the curtains, he could block its view of the inside, and the creature would likely lose interest and leave.

The moment his fingers grasped the curtain—

It stood up.

Its stance, supported on all fours, was unmistakably wolf-like.

But it was not a wolf.

Its grotesquely wide mouth gaped open far beyond normal limits, an abomination of nature.

Rows upon rows of shark-like fangs filled its maw—hundreds of them, crammed together in a jagged, gnashing mess. A long, unnaturally flexible tongue slithered like a writhing tentacle.

A Creature.

A β-Class Creature—a monster that had stolen the form of a wolf.

…!

The instant its eyes locked onto Kwon Jae-jin, the wolf-shaped Creature lunged with terrifying force.

In a single bound, it closed the vast distance between them and sank its fangs deep into the living room’s floor-to-ceiling glass window.

Crash—!

The reinforced glass shattered helplessly. Jae-jin ducked, curling his body to avoid the sharp shards.

The only bit of luck was that several large glass fragments had lodged themselves inside the Creature’s mouth. The wolf let out a choked, agonized gagging sound.

This… this can’t be happening.

A Creature, appearing in a Special Residential Zone?

Did a gate break open nearby? Or did just one manage to sneak in?

In the General Residential Zones, it wasn’t uncommon for these monsters to breach the perimeter walls, slaughtering and devouring humans. But this…

Could they really invade Special Zones as well?

Whatever the case—

He had to run. Now.