A few days later, I saw the news from my hospital room: instead of entering the Ability Academy, Park Geonwoo had left for Africa.

When I saw it, I was honestly stunned.

He had told me himself that he would be enrolling in the Academy. He even talked about how nice it would be if we went together—he’d said that just a week ago. And now he’d left for Africa.

Had he lied to me while already planning to deploy? Or had this recent incident changed his mind? Could it be... because of me?

For Espers, clearing an S-rank gate was the dream of a lifetime.

Granted, as an S-rank Esper, Park Geonwoo had more chances than most to enter S-rank gates—but it was still true that he’d lost his shot at an S-rank boss because of me.

Was that why he left—disheartened?

Or was it just the original plot forcing things back into place?

I kept wondering, but no answers came.

By the time I was discharged, all the complicated thoughts had melted away, leaving behind just one thread of worry.

Would he be okay, going to Africa with an injured body? If he was going to leave, why didn’t he wait to recover? Why did he rush?

After the S-rank gate break incident, Africa lost power and all communications. Letters were the only way to reach anyone.

It seemed like Park Geonwoo had decided to leave for Africa without telling a soul—even Espers close to him were caught off guard.

Regardless, they said they were organizing a group letter to send him off with support.

“Um, Chaea noona... do you think I could send a letter to Geonwoo hyung too?”

“Of course. He’ll be really happy to get one from you.”

I wasn’t sure he’d be happy, but... I still wanted to write to him.

I wrote a letter filled with gratitude, guilt, and concern about the Horaitron Gate incident.

Three months later, a batch of replies arrived all at once—just as they had been sent.

The letters had reached the group of Espers and Guides gathered for a gate campaign, and Park Geonwoo’s replies had come back.

Everyone who had written to him got a reply: Chaea noona, Hyeokjin hyung, even Kang Inho, who barely knew him.

Everyone... except me.

“Wow, since Yeonsu’s the only one who didn’t get a reply, I guess Geonwoo’s really pissed about getting hurt,” Hyeokjin teased.

“Die, Do Hyeokjin!”

“Augh! That hurts! Kim Chaea, I’m the guild leader of YL, you know? At least let me save face—”

“I said die!”

“Gaaah!”

After kicking Hyeokjin hard in the shin, Chaea noona turned to me with a voice that was completely different—gentle and kind.

“Yeonsu, it must’ve been a delivery error. They said there are a lot of mix-ups in Africa. I’m sure it’s not that he just ignored you. You know Geonwoo wouldn’t do that.”

“...Yeah.”

I’d heard that too.

After that gate campaign, Chaea noona secretly passed me the address where I could send another letter to Park Geonwoo.

I sent one more.

But I never got a reply.

Could two letters in a row really get lost? Sure, it was possible. But it felt more likely... that he was ignoring me on purpose.

Park Geonwoo was hard to read. He’d treat me kindly one moment, then draw a clear line the next.

Like how he gave chocolates to everyone but me, or how he never wrote back.

And yet, whenever we met in person, he was warm and gentle—that's what had confused me.

But now, I was certain.

He didn’t like me. Maybe he hadn’t to begin with, but after the Horaitron Gate incident, that little bit of affection had probably vanished completely.

I insisted on joining a gate despite being underqualified, and ended up putting him in danger.

While I was unconscious, falling from the wyvern, he had fought desperately. He even got injured protecting me. It made sense he would grow to resent me.

Even when he came to visit in the hospital, he left like he was escaping. I bet he only came in the first place because the new Center director forced him.

“What terrible luck.”

It was nearly unheard of for an S-rank gate to be misclassified as B-rank. And of all times, it happened when the risk of a gate break was high. There wasn’t even time to remeasure it with precision instruments.

Everything had overlapped to create the worst-case scenario.

“Is this what they mean by plot gravity?”

In the original story, Park Geonwoo despised Lee Yeonsu. I had managed to maintain a polite distance through effort, neither close nor hostile—but in the end, the plot seemed to be dragging us back into place.

Would Joo Seunghyuk end up the same? Would he go beyond disdain and try to kill me?

After that, I stopped writing to Park Geonwoo.

At one point, I’d even considered that both letters really had been lost. But no—he had received them. He just hadn’t replied.

It took me two years to get my confirmation.

But why had he brought it up first? Did that mean ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) he wanted to move past the Horaitron Gate incident?

I had wanted to ask him about it—but I stayed quiet.

The Horaitron Gate incident had never been disclosed to the public.

The government and the Center had completely covered it up.

They claimed it was to avoid unnecessary fear and panic in society—but that was just an excuse.

They'd discovered the S-rank gate only at the brink of a break. The rating mistake, the decision to hide the truth due to the Center Director’s inauguration ceremony, the reckless campaign, the injuries to young S-rank ability users—

If that got out, the public backlash and political fallout would have been explosive. So they buried it.

The new Center Director resigned in less than 100 days due to inappropriate remarks and scandals, and a replacement was appointed.

But since he was also from the ruling party, he had no interest in digging up the Horaitron Gate case.

The public didn’t even know that an S-rank gate had almost broken open in the heart of Seoul.

It wasn’t until a year later—when the Center and the Ability User Association began fighting over the ownership of the S-rank artifact, the Horaitron Handgun—that people finally learned an S-rank gate had occurred.

But too much time had passed. The news never really caught fire.

To Park Geonwoo, the whole event seemed like a dark memory. Even today during the lecture, when the topic turned to upper-tier gates, he completely avoided mentioning the Horaitron Gate.

If he didn’t want to talk about it, I had no reason to bring it up.

“How was Africa? It must’ve been really tough.”

“Surprisingly, it was fine. I was mentally prepared for it, so I could endure the washing, the food, the clothes. But... there was one thing that was really hard.”

“What was it?”

For someone like Park Geonwoo, who never complained, to say something like that—it must’ve been unbearable.

“A Guide.”

“A Guide...?”

“There weren’t any Guides like you. There were many highly ranked, excellent ones, sure. But I kept missing you.”

“You were just used to me, that’s all.”

“Yeah, I was. We’d been in sync for so long, it just felt natural. I always thought of it as a blessing—but I didn’t realize just how lucky I really was.”

He’d always been generous with compliments, but it seemed like in the last two years, he’d gotten even smoother.

That was how it was in the original story too. Kim Jun used to believe every word he said—until he didn’t.

“Thank you for the kind words.”

I bowed politely. Geonwoo gave a faint smile.

“Ha. Still the same, huh?”

“Pardon?”

“Whatever I say, you assume it’s just empty flattery.”

“...”

Caught off guard, I couldn’t deny it—I just stayed quiet.

“It’s not flattery. Not a joke either. I meant it. You’re a special person.”

“Thank you for valuing my abilities.”

Even if he was being sincere, all I could say was thanks. But that felt too curt, so I hurried to add something more.

“I respect you, too. You saved my life that day.”

“...Thanks.”

His face darkened for a moment. So he really didn’t want to recall the Horaitron Gate. I quickly changed the subject.

“By the way, you said you had something to talk about...?”

“It’s late. I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

“...Okay.”

We stood up.

I headed toward the dormitory, and Geonwoo walked beside me. I guess we were going in the same direction.

But even as we reached the building, he didn’t leave.

“Where are you going, hyung?”

Carefully, I asked his destination. Geonwoo pointed to Dormitory Building 1.

“Here.”

“Huh? The dorms?”

“I’ll be staying here from today.”

“You, hyung?”

His family was wealthy, and the Center supported him generously. There was no reason for him to live in a dorm. In the original story, he had stayed in an officetel near the academy.

“Yeah. I came back on short notice, so I didn’t have time to find a place.”

“Oh, I see.”

Unlike the novel, this time he had returned in a hurry, so maybe he hadn’t had time to arrange housing.

“Shall we go in?”

“Yes.”

We entered the dorm together.

“It’s my first time living in a dorm.”

He looked a little nervous. Even someone as perfect as Park Geonwoo could make a face like that.

We passed through the lobby and got in the elevator.

“You’re on the sixth floor, right?”

“Yeah. All the S-ranks are assigned to the same floor.”

“Yes. I’m on the sixth too. I’ve been staying there alone so far.”

“I hope I’m not making things uncomfortable. It was probably peaceful before I arrived.”

“Not at all. It was kind of lonely. I actually like this better.”

I waved my hands. That was the kind of considerate thing I’d never once heard from Joo Seunghyuk.

That guy always barged into my room without asking.

“I’m a little worried I’ll mess up some of the dorm rules. I don’t really know them.”

“If you ever have any questions, just ask. If I know the answer, I’ll help.”

“Thanks. I’m really glad you’re here.”

The elevator arrived at the sixth floor.

“I’m in 601.”

“I’m in 602.”

There were plenty of empty rooms, but I guess they assigned them in order.

“Right next door, huh?”

“Looks like we’re neighbors now.”

“Yeah... well, I’ll head in then.”

“Yeonsu, wait!”

Just as I was about to go into my room, Park Geonwoo called out.

“Yes?”

“Um, I was about to start unpacking... Would you mind helping me?”