Though he didn’t take a half day off, he left earlier than usual. However, by the time he arrived at Yun-jae’s private office, it was well past the expected time.

“Sorry I’m late.”

“No, we didn’t set a specific time anyway.”

Yun-jae, who let Ju-eon into his office, seemed unusually busy. He shuffled through piles of documents, then belatedly poured water into a kettle, saying he should at least serve some tea.

Ju-eon calmly waited for Yun-jae, who remained silent for a while after calling him. Only the sound of boiling water could be heard between them.

“The reason you wanted to meet, perhaps…”

“……”

Before he could finish speaking, Ju-eon understood from Yun-jae’s stiffened face.

“I see.”

He had sensed from when he was called that Yun-jae would discuss something serious. As the topic of his illness came up, Yun-jae took a deep breath.

After pouring hot water into a cup with a tea bag, Yun-jae began speaking.

“I should probably start with how I found out about you.”

Yun-jae showed clear signs of tension, uncharacteristic of him. After silence drifted between them for a while, Yun-jae finally managed to speak.

Kang Yun-jae was the youngest lead researcher in the Research and Experimentation Department, which received the largest budget allocation from the Special Abilities Agency.

As the department with the most Level 1 classified security information in the agency, only a handful of researchers fully understood all the ongoing projects.

Kang Yun-jae was among those few who knew about all projects in the Research Department, and he personally directed several of them.

Among these, there was one project he had been focusing on most intensely for the past few years.

Developing a cure for weathering syndrome.

It was becoming one of the prominent diseases as the number of patients increased along with population growth. Despite the increase in patients, cases of guides contracting weathering syndrome were extremely rare. The few guides who did contract it were those with abilities closer to ordinary people. Guides existed to receive the energy of ability users. It was extremely rare for guides to contract weathering syndrome.

Yun-jae, who had been interested in weathering syndrome for several years, formed a team to research it, and currently, they are accelerating the development of a treatment, with the drug now approaching clinical pharmacological trials.

Most hospitals associated with the agency reportedly received large donations and handed over patient information. While reviewing information received from hospitals in search of unusual cases, Kang Yun-jae came across Ju-eon’s name.

“So that’s how you knew.”

Ju-eon, who had quietly listened to Yun-jae’s story until the tea in front of him grew cold, nodded in understanding. Though surprised by the agency’s practices, he wasn’t shocked since he had vaguely assumed some illegal activities would occur for the agency to maintain itself.

“I thought long and hard about whether to tell you this.”

Yun-jae repeatedly ran his hands through his hair with a pained expression.

“I was thinking about it until just now.”

“…Yeah?”

Even until now, Yun-jae had thoughts of not telling him. Having conducted numerous clinical trials, Kang Yun-jae could see Ju-eon’s condition better than others.

“I don’t want to ask this.”

“……”

“It’s progressing faster than expected, isn’t it?”

Ju-eon’s hand, which had been holding the cup, paused.

“…Yeah.”

His tongue felt bitter at the thought that it must be obvious enough for others to notice. Though he tried to smile to appear even slightly better, his entire face was tense, making it look awkward.

Yun-jae frowned at the confirmation of his ominous premonition.

Yun-jae organized his thoughts while letting out a deep sigh. After much consideration, what remained in the end was clinging to even the faintest possibility.

“There’s no treatment method yet, and you don’t have time… Though this isn’t guaranteed either. I’d like you to participate in this experiment… Hah…”

Something felt odd about Yun-jae’s voice, which had sunk into devastation. It felt like circling around the core without grasping it.

“…Is there another reason you’re beating around the bush?”

If it were the Kang Yun-jae he knew, he would have recommended this long ago. But recommending it more than a month after learning about Ju-eon’s illness meant there were uncomfortable aspects.

Yun-jae moistened his dried lips with his tongue and lowered his head.

“Ju-eon. Have you ever heard about how the Phase 1 clinical trials went?”

Ju-eon pondered briefly at the question that came back instead of an answer. It wasn’t something he had thought deeply about. Because it hadn’t been related to him. There was also a reason he hadn’t tried to know what the agency wanted to hide. Basic trust was underlying as it was a state-affiliated organization.

“…I don’t think so.”

But Yun-jae’s point made Ju-eon uneasy. Thinking about it now, he had never encountered any news about this. Realizing this fact made goosebumps rise on his arms.

Experiments can’t always succeed. But Yun-jae wouldn’t hesitate like this for such a simple reason.

Phase 1 clinical trials have the highest risk of side effects, yet no one had mentioned it anywhere. While developing several innovative new drugs that prevent espers from going berserk, rather than improved versions of existing drugs, the agency was evaluated as being about 10 years ahead of its time.

“Why… isn’t there any?”

Ju-eon unconsciously held his breath.

“To cover up the cause of death, they file death certificates and sign confidentiality agreements before entering the clinical trials.”

The main purpose of Phase 1 clinical trials is to identify the causes of side effects, and the trials are conducted secretly on subjects who have no family relationships. This was because the risk was high enough to be designated as security level 1.

“…What?”

It was the first time he’d heard this. Ju-eon asked back in a dumbfounded voice. Disguising people who were still perfectly alive as dead – it was shocking enough to make him wonder if he had heard wrong. But Yun-jae confirmed that it wasn’t a misunderstanding.

“So you become a non-existent person on paper.”

“……”

“This time is especially dangerous. If it were a disease with similar symptoms, we would refer to data from other completed clinical trials. But weathering syndrome doesn’t have anything like that.”

It meant he could die lonely without anyone knowing, under the pretext of clinical trials. If there was any way to even slightly delay the weathering syndrome, this would be something he would never recommend. Even Kang Yun-jae, the leader of this project.

His throat felt dry. He had thought the experiment itself would be difficult, but he hadn’t imagined at all that he would have to become a dead person before actually dying.

The first thing that came to mind wasn’t the fact that he might die through the clinical trials, but Myung-hwon’s face. His heart sank at the thought of leaving him alone.

“…To Myung-hwon…”

“This goes without saying, but if you accept my proposal, you can’t tell anyone.”

“……”

“Even explaining this much in advance isn’t normally allowed.”

He was scared of leaving Myung-hwon alone, but he was also afraid of dying alone and being forgotten. He didn’t like being without you, and he didn’t like you being without him. Because they were beings who couldn’t be explained without including each other in their lives.

“Myung-hwon has clearance to access classified information too.”

“That’s only for matters that might be related to Yeo Myung-hwon.”

“He’s one of the few S-class espers in the agency.”

Eventually, as time passed, his information access authority would expand. So if they could just advance that timing a little bit. Then he could tell Myung-hwon about his situation.

“…Ju-eon. That’s…”

Ju-eon suddenly came to his senses while speaking incoherently with heightened emotions. The government wouldn’t grant such authority just for one person like him. He let out a hollow laugh at the absurdity of his overheated thoughts.

“Sorry.”

What a foolish thing to do, asking for something impossible because of personal feelings. Ju-eon rubbed his gaunt face. Though he barely regained his reason, his insides still churned as if he might vomit.

“I guess I got too excited.”

“I’m not asking you to decide right away.”

Ju-eon bit his nails while shaking his leg. The air felt too heavy. With each breath, it felt like his lungs were being crushed. Though he pretended to be fine, he had only been avoiding it because he was scared. His eyes felt hot. His head was dizzy from the sudden fever.

“I… don’t want to die. Yun-jae. I’m so scared of dying.”

Though he pretended to be okay, he never was. Every minute and second, the fear of his impending death ate away at Ju-eon. He couldn’t lament to anyone. Because the moment he spoke, death would seep through his skin and force him to face the raw reality. Then he would have crumbled. So he endured and endured.

“I’m sorry that this proposal is all I can offer you.”

While Ju-eon must be suffering the most, that didn’t mean Yun-jae was okay. Yun-jae apologized to Ju-eon, whose eyes had reddened, with a troubled expression.

“Give me a little time.”

Yun-jae nodded. There wasn’t much time anyway. Before deciding what to do next, there were still many things to sort out.

**

Though the air was cold in the approaching winter season, the midday sun was still warm. Despite leaving early, by the time he arrived, the sun was already at its highest point.

The place Ju-eon visited was a hospital on the outskirts of Paju, where mostly long-term patients stayed.