CHAPTER 8
Kyeonsuho’s eyes turned icy, as if to say, Is that even a question?
“…Still in a bad mood, I see.”
Choi Man-deok’s thick brows drooped. Ignoring his sympathetic expression completely, Kyeonsuho walked over to the penalty measurement device.
The researchers, who had briefly frozen, began moving again.
Inside the ability control capsule, Kyeonsuho’s arms and legs were restrained with thick cuffs. A specialized needle for Awakened individuals was inserted into his forearm, the sleeve rolled up a few times.
Once everything was ready, Shin Ji-yool spoke.
“Any discomfort?”
“My limbs are tied up like a dog’s—how could I be comfortable?”
“…You’re not in a good mood, I see.”
Kyeonsuho, who suffered from severe insomnia, was especially irritable in the mornings. Not that he was ever pleasant.
Shin Ji-yool studied Kyeonsuho’s pale, bloodless face and then tapped at his tablet.
“We’ll run two tests. First with a C-rank Tamer, then with an A-rank. Penalty values will be measured three times throughout. Any questions?”
“Just get on with it. I’m starting to feel like flipping this place over.”
At Shin Ji-yool’s signal, a researcher brought someone in from the lounge. It was Han Joohwan, the clumsy-looking C-rank Tamer.
Shin Ji-yool, Choi Man-deok, and the researchers moved to the observation room. Moments later, Shin Ji-yool’s voice rang through the training room speakers.
— “Begin.”
Han Joohwan’s face went pale.
He had been excited at the offer of a free rank reassessment. He never expected to be taming Kyeonsuho.
He had never tamed a human before, but he was confident—after all, he could tame B-rank creatures.
But wasn’t Kyeonsuho more dangerous than any creature? What if he got mauled trying to train him? And why were they even doing this experiment?
Han Joohwan, looking dazed, asked nervously:
“Um, are we really doing this?”
— “Yes.”
“K-Kyeon Soo-ho Hunter… He won’t attack me, right?”
— “As you can see, Kyeon Soo-ho is restrained inside the control capsule. There’s absolutely no chance of escape. Don’t worry.”
It was the obvious answer, so why did he feel so anxious? Han Joohwan instinctively stepped back a little more.
— “Is taming still possible from that distance?”
“Ah, yes. As long as the subject is within visual range, there’s no issue.”
— “Understood.”
Han Joohwan let out a long breath and focused on Kyeonsuho.
“………”
Time passed, but nothing happened. Sweat was soaking through Han Joohwan’s back.
Something was wrong. Just as the ominous feeling crept into everyone’s minds—
“Guh!”
Han Joohwan coughed up blood and collapsed.
— “Han Joohwan Hunter!”
Shin Ji-yool called out in alarm, but Han Joohwan didn’t respond. Choi Man-deok quickly gave an order.
“Team Leader Shin, secure Han Joohwan’s safety first.”
“Yes, sir.”
Shin Ji-yool gave instructions to the researchers, then urgently turned on the mic.
— “Kyeon Soo-ho Hunter, the test isn’t over yet. Stay where you are.”
The researchers rushed into the training room, surrounding Han Joohwan.
Despite the commotion right beside him, Kyeonsuho didn’t even blink. No concern, no anger—just a dull, bored expression.
From behind the bulletproof glass, Choi Man-deok whispered,
“What on earth caused that? Was it the rank difference?”
“E-rank succeeded, so that likely isn’t the issue.”
“If an E-rank succeeded and a C-rank failed, then rank probably has nothing to do with it.”
“It’s too early to draw conclusions, Director.”
“Phew… Right, the test isn’t over yet.”
An A-rank Tamer should be different.
Choi Man-deok suppressed his growing unease and turned his gaze back to the training room.
Researchers who had administered emergency treatment with a healing potion were carrying Han Joohwan out.
After the chaos settled, A-rank Tamer Kim Minseok entered the room.
— “Team Leader Kim, you may begin when ready.”
“Yes.”
Kim Minseok approached Kyeonsuho. His mildly wrinkled face showed no signs of tension.
He wasn’t fully briefed on why he was taming Kyeonsuho, but his age and experience gave him a calm demeanor.
“I’ll begin taming.”
He extended his hand. Waves shimmered in the air as an invisible force surged toward Kyeonsuho.
Kyeonsuho, who had been staring idly downward as if none of it concerned him, slowly raised his gaze to meet Kim Minseok’s.
A thick wave of tension swept through the training room.
Will it work this time?
Just as everyone’s hopes peaked, Kim Minseok suddenly dropped to his knees. Blackened blood dripped from his open mouth.
“Ghh…!”
— “Team Leader Kim!”
His body, which had seemed frozen stiff, slumped over. Thud! He hit the floor.
Everyone in the observation room froze.
The highly anticipated test had ended in failure—again.
It felt like they had reached for a lifeline dangling over a cliff, only to find it rotten and breaking.
Shin Ji-yool whispered to the stunned Choi Man-deok:
“Director, we’ll try the test again this afternoon.”
“After a failure like that, you think a second try will work?”
“There are too many variables. If we change the conditions, we may get different results.”
“If that’s your judgment, then go ahead.”
Shin Ji-yool and Choi Man-deok entered the training room.
Once Shin Ji-yool removed the restraints, Kyeonsuho yanked out the needle without hesitation. Blood trickled like vines down his long forearm.
“Kyeonsuho, you can’t just pull it out like that! Hey! You’re bleeding!”
Kyeonsuho ignored Choi Man-deok’s scolding and even tossed aside the measurement device.
Shin Ji-yool gently grabbed his wrist. Though they didn’t get the result they wanted, it was still too early for disappointment.
“If Team Leader Kim regains consciousness, let’s try one more time this afternoon.”
“Again?”
“No experiment is confirmed a failure after just one trial.”
Kyeonsuho gave a lazy smile.
The powers those Tamers had used to try and dominate him were pathetic and irritating.
Still, he had tolerated it—twice. All because he wanted to relive that feeling of total release he’d once experienced.
But no, this wasn’t it. It was nothing like the power that had soaked into his body during his Code Red episode. Their powers hadn’t even penetrated him.
So why should he be the one to tolerate anything?
“Alright.”
Shin Ji-yool’s face lit up. He hadn’t expected such an easy yes.
“Then how about around 2 PM, after lunch?”
“If it fails again, I’ll kill that Team Leader Kim or whatever his name is. If that’s fine with you, sure.”
“……”
Of course.
Shin Ji-yool and Choi Man-deok sighed in unison.
“I know you’re disappointed, but you know how Awakened abilities fluctuate with condition. Let’s try just a few more times.”
“Taming hasn’t worked at all—what difference will more attempts make?”
“Not at all? It didn’t work even a little?”
If the power didn’t connect at all, there was no point in looking for variables. Shin Ji-yool’s brow furrowed.
What’s the problem?
The Tamers had absolutely no effect on Kyeonsuho.
Instead, they only suffered internal injuries from their power rebounding after trying to force control.
“When you found me in Giheung, who was I with?”
“…Hm?”
Shin Ji-yool and Choi Man-deok exchanged glances.
They had already agreed to keep Kang Morae’s involvement secret from Kyeonsuho.
At Choi Man-deok’s silent signal to dodge the question, Shin Ji-yool composed his expression.
“You don’t remember?”
Kyeonsuho, buttoning his shirt for post-exam checks, tried to recall.
During his Code Red state, all he could think about was getting as far from the dungeon as possible.
Everything after that was a fog. He couldn’t recall how he got to Giheung, who he met, or what happened there. It was all painted over in black.
Except one thing was clear.
For the first time since birth, he had been free of pain.
No suffocating pressure, like drowning in a swamp. No heavy weight dragging on every limb.
Then came the thrill—like shedding a decaying shell and being born anew.
“Ah… Thank goodness.”
Yes, he thought he’d heard someone say that.
As Kyeonsuho recalled the voice full of relief, he frowned.
His ears were starting to itch for some reason.
