I stood outside the café, watching the events unfold through the window. The bustling interior, filled with chatter and clinking cups, felt oddly charged with tension. I was about to step inside when Yun Hyuk emerged, his ever-present smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Yoo Yeonha, that kiss is the deposit… You want to be a Djinn. Oh~ I can do you better…"
His playful tone grated on my nerves as I passed their table. I shot a glance at Yeonha, who sat stiffly, her expression carefully controlled. Thankfully, the situation didn't escalate into a fight. I shifted my focus, noting the presence of several Heroes from the Essence of the Strait scattered throughout the café. As I was undercover, I knew I had to act the part.
But as it turned out, I didn't need to act. The next series of events took me by surprise.
As Yun Hyuk left, more than half of the café patrons—people I had assumed to be regular civilians—rose from their seats and followed him to the exit. Their movements were unnervingly coordinated. My heart skipped a beat. What was going on?
I quickly retreated, masking my genuine alarm with an expression of terror. From behind my face mask, my wide eyes sold the act perfectly. I found a table near Yeonha's, carefully positioning myself with my back to the crowd. The Essence of the Strait Heroes didn't seem to notice me, thanks to the effects of [Always Here], which blended my presence seamlessly into the background.
"How is it? Is Yeonha safe?" Hajin's voice crackled in my earpiece, his concern cutting through the noise of the café.
I hummed softly, a subtle confirmation. For now, Yeonha was safe. I extended my hearing toward her table, straining to catch anything noteworthy.
"All Heroes, standby…" Yeonha's voice reached my ears, calm and commanding. She was addressing someone nearby, likely one of her subordinates.
Then I felt it—her gaze, sharp and unwavering, boring into me.
"Who are you?" she asked, her tone firm and suspicious.
Ah, crap. I forced a shy smile, though I doubted she could see it through my mask. "Hello," I said awkwardly, trying to sound harmless.
"Reveal your identity at once," she demanded.
I sighed inwardly. It wasn't my disguise that gave me away—it was something else. Reluctantly, I deactivated [Always Here] and removed my mask.
Rachel's reaction caught me off guard. "You're that… religious guy. What are you doing here?"
Ouch. She didn't even remember my name. That stung a little. Still, I guessed it was better than her remembering everything.
A memory surfaced as I looked at her—a moment in the library when I'd asked her about the religious roots of England. I opened my mouth to ask her about it again, but before I could speak, Hajin's voice interrupted me, pulling me back to the present.
"You know him?" Yeonha asked Rachel, her tone laced with amusement. "It's surprising to me that the crazy fool is the princess's acquaintance."
Rachel nodded, her expression neutral. "Yes, I know him. He's the guy who was proselytizing—something about belief in Devils and God."
I let out a small sigh of relief. At least she didn't remember me beating her up.
Or so I thought.
"He's also the guy who beat me to a pulp," Rachel added flatly, her voice devoid of emotion.
Ah, there it was. Wishful thinking on my part to believe she'd forget that.
"I see," Yeonha said, wiping her lips aggressively. My eyes flicked to her hands, and I remembered Yun Hyuk's earlier kiss. For a germaphobe like Yeonha, that alone was probably enough to make her want to burn the world down. "Let's go," she said abruptly, standing up.
I watched as she left, her movements stiff with tension. To my surprise, everyone else in the café followed her out—Heroes and patrons alike. It wasn't just the armed individuals I had pegged as Essence of the Strait members; even the supposed civilians joined the exodus.
So that's why I'd been so suspiciously out of place. Everyone here was in on it, except for Yun Hyuk's lackeys from earlier. Yeonha had been prepared for a showdown with Yun Hyuk, but it seemed he'd been just as prepared for her.
Her plan had failed. Miserably.
As the café emptied, leaving me alone with Rachel, I couldn't shake the question gnawing at my mind. "Hey," I said, turning to her, "how did Yeonha figure out my cover?"
Rachel looked at me with mild amusement. "Yeonha-ssi had Heroes from her guild surround the perimeter. They were stopping civilians and unrelated parties from getting within several hundred meters of the café. If you managed to bypass them so easily, you must be really strong… or specialized."
I groaned softly, slumping in my seat. So that's what those people barricading the pathways had been doing. If Yeonha had gone to such lengths, she must have been serious about this.
"I tried convincing her to stay out of your group's way," Rachel continued, her tone calm and measured. "But she's stubborn. She thinks there's something to gain. Now, though… it's become personal."
Her words hung in the air, heavy with implication. Yun Hyuk's smirk, Yeonha's desperation, the eerie coordination of the café patrons—it all pointed to a larger storm brewing. I just hoped I'd be ready when it hit.
Rachel had always been the type of person who worked tirelessly for the betterment of others. Honest, hardworking, and selfless. Back then, before I… well, before I beat her up, she was a bit of a pushover. People could talk over her or disregard her opinions easily. But now? Now, she carried herself differently. She put more weight into her words, her actions grounded in her own motivations. She wasn't just someone who let things happen anymore—she made things happen.
That was why I often felt bad for her. Everything she did wasn't for herself but for her country. She bore that responsibility like a second skin.
"Thank you, Rachel-ssi, for backing us up!" I said, giving her a genuine smile. Her attempt to convince Yeonha to back off from this whole Djinn mess might have failed, but the effort mattered. The thought mattered.
Rachel gave me a small nod, her lips pressing into a thin line.
I pulled the earpiece from my ear, wrapping it tightly in the tablecloth. I wasn't sure how many tricks Hajin had packed into this enchanted gadget, but I didn't want him overhearing what I was about to say. This conversation was meant for Rachel and Rachel alone.
"My leader wants to minimize your involvement," I began, keeping my voice low. "And the same goes for Yeonha. Believe me, the danger within Cube is far worse than any of us can imagine."
Rachel's head dipped slightly, her expression unreadable. "Yes… I believe your group…" she said quietly. Her voice was meek, almost defeated, and she kept her gaze lowered. Whether it was bitterness or some sense of inferiority, I couldn't tell.
I leaned forward, my tone soft but urgent. "So, I'm going to make a personal request. My leader doesn't know about this, so please keep it a secret from him."
Her head snapped up, confusion flashing across her face. "Huh?"
"I need you to stay with Yeonha," I said, meeting her eyes. "If she's really insistent on tackling this Djinn problem in Cube, then I want you to protect her. Please."
Rachel blinked, taken aback by the sincerity in my voice. But I knew her. Rachel wouldn't say no. She wasn't the type to refuse when someone asked for help, especially when it was for someone else.
"Do it for Yeonha, Ms. Rachel," I added, switching to English for emphasis.
Then, I stood and bowed deeply, lowering myself to a full 90 degrees. "Please."
For a moment, there was silence. I didn't move, holding the bow, hoping my words had reached her.
Finally, I felt her hands on my shoulders, gently pushing me upright. "Yes, I hear you," she said softly. "I will… Thank you for seeking my help."
I straightened, relief washing over me. From my pocket, I pulled out a small button-like device, one of those premium gadgets Hosup had recommended to me. It wasn't cheap, but it was exactly what I needed.
"This is a warning system," I explained, placing the button in her hand. "If something bad or unexpected happens, press it, and I'll find you immediately. Please stay by Yeonha's side."
Rachel nodded, her fingers curling around the device.
Satisfied, I retrieved the earpiece from its cocoon of tablecloth and returned it to my ear. There was nothing but silence on the other end—no questions, no remarks. If Hajin had noticed anything, he wasn't saying.
"Rachel-ssi," I said, standing tall. "I've been tasked by my club to bodyguard Yeonha. I'll do the same for you, as you might also be targeted by the Djinn. Now, farewell. Please stay safe."
With that, I turned and left the café. As the door swung shut behind me, I glanced over my shoulder one last time. Rachel was still seated, her expression thoughtful as she stared at the device in her hand.
I had faith in her. Rachel wasn't just a pushover anymore—she was someone who acted on her convictions. And right now, I needed her strength more than ever.
***
"Shin Jonghak, I'm glad you could spare a moment to meet with me." Yoo Yeonha's voice was crisp, devoid of warmth or affection. It was a tone Jonghak wasn't used to hearing from her.
Her expression was as sharp as her words, her usual poise undercut by an edge of tension. For Yeonha, this wasn't a friendly chat—it was business, and her anger simmered beneath the surface.
Jonghak, perceptive enough to sense something amiss, squinted his eyes. "What is it? Does this have something to do with Nayun?" His voice faltered slightly. "Can you please stop fighting with… her…"
The awkwardness in his request only deepened Yeonha's irritation. On one hand, there was Nayun, the object of Jonghak's unspoken affection. On the other, there was Yeonha herself, his childhood friend. That he would plead on Nayun's behalf left a bitter taste in her mouth.
For a brief, fleeting moment, she felt something darker—an urge to lash out, to hurt. She pushed it down with a sigh, shaking her head as if to clear her thoughts.
"Yes, it's about Nayun," Yeonha admitted, her tone clipped. "And it's important." She leaned forward slightly, fixing Jonghak with a piercing gaze. "Do you remember the club she and Suho started?"
Jonghak's face fell. Of course, he remembered. He had even asked Nayun if he could join, only to be turned down without hesitation. The rejection still stung. "What about it?"
Yeonha hesitated for a moment, Rachel's warning echoing in her mind. "You shouldn't meddle anymore," Rachel had said. But Yeonha couldn't let it go. She had to act, even if it meant going against Rachel's advice.
"It's not just some harmless group," Yeonha began, her voice lowering conspiratorially. "That club—Nayun built it to research Djinns. It's sensitive, but it was approved easily because of who's involved."
Jonghak frowned, confusion etched across his features.
"Suho, Nayun, Hajin, and Hyon Hyung," Yeonha continued, the names rolling off her tongue like accusations. "They're all tied to the Djinn subjugation event. And yet…" Her fists clenched beneath the table. "They didn't even ask me to join. I was part of that museum incident too! I helped just as much as they did."
Her voice wavered, betraying the sting of exclusion. If not for Rachel's warning, Yeonha might have remained ignorant of the club's true purpose. But now that she knew, she couldn't sit idly by.
"Jonghak," she said softly, almost pleadingly. "There are Djinns hiding within Cube. That club Nayun built—it's for purging them."
She didn't get the chance to finish.
A sudden, sharp pain ripped through her chest, and before she could comprehend what was happening, blood spilled from her lips.
"Yeonha!" Jonghak's voice was frantic, his composure crumbling as he rushed to her side.
Yeonha staggered, clutching the edge of the table for support. Her vision blurred, dark spots dancing at the edges of her sight. She tried to speak, to reassure him, but more blood bubbled up, cutting her off.
Jonghak caught her as she collapsed, his arms wrapping around her trembling form. "Yeonha, stay with me! What's happening?!"
Yeonha's mind raced even as her body betrayed her. What is this? Poison? An attack? The timing was too perfect, too precise to be a coincidence. Someone didn't want her to interfere.
Through the haze of pain, one thought burned bright and clear: This isn't over.