Chapter 246: Presence of the Absent (2)

The blood drained from my face.

It must have shown, because my expression instantly darkened. Yehyeon looked at me in surprise and turned his body toward me.

“Why are you like this?”

“Where did that name come from?”

Even as I asked back, I couldn’t control my expression.

Yehyeon carefully searched my face.

“It was engraved on the bullet that flew into the event hall. In memory of Adam, it said.”

“A bullet?”

This time I turned my upper body toward him.

“A bullet flew in?”

“No one was hit. Occasionally extremists pull stunts like that....”

“Where did the bullet fly toward.”

Yehyeon hesitated to answer.

That alone was enough of an answer. It must have been aimed at him, but either by bad luck or by intention it missed.

I raised a brow in exasperation and looked at him.

He seemed pricked by guilt, glancing at me nervously.

“It ended with no injuries. We didn’t know it was a Titan’s doing. Adam is such a symbolic name that I thought it might be the work of some extremist anti-Badger group.”

“It won’t be.”

A crushing fatigue hit me.

Maybe the pile-up of travel exhaustion. With a faint headache pricking at my nerves, I turned my head away.

“It was a kinsman’s name.”

“...Did he pass away?”

“Before becoming an adult. At human hands.”

Yehyeon jolted.

I pretended not to notice his reaction.

Memories erupted—times when much happened beneath the surface while the world above looked peaceful.

Those bright brown eyes. His height shooting up every day. That intelligent, steady voice.

He wasn’t the first child of our kin born on Earth.

But Adam was the first child we entrusted to Earth itself. The first we didn’t hide inside, the first we didn’t shield to keep humans from ever seeing.

We sent him to a human kindergarten.

We even argued endlessly over whether to put him in the Mickey class or the Daisy class.

He was a healthy boy born between kin. I remember how we anxiously watched him, terrified that his innate strength might cause problems. Afraid he wouldn’t blend in, afraid he’d hurt another child—those days when everyone’s hearts were clenched.

But Adam blended into the humans effortlessly, making our worries look foolish.

He was brilliant. Unshaken between two identities—human and Titan.

Adam made friends, went to parties, became class president.

And then he was murdered before he could attend his high school graduation.

His death ignited the war.

“Yo loved the child dearly, too.”

I murmured, eyes drifting somewhere into the air.

“And when the child died while I still sided with humans, I guess he could no longer forgive me.”

Yehyeon did not speak easily.

He didn’t say things like It wasn’t your fault, or Supporting humans doesn’t mean you mocked the child’s death.

Instead, after a short silence, he spoke slowly.

In the voice of someone who once sat at the throne of leadership for a long time.

“The broken cannot see reality properly. It’s common. It must hurt that such a long bond has decayed, but don’t lend too much ear to the words of someone already ruined.”

“The problem is that this ruined kid is aiming for you this time.”

“There’s more than one who wants me dead.”

It seemed Yehyeon didn’t place much weight on Yo’s existence.

How many people must have caused chaos for him to become this numb? I know well how many hate the Black Badgers, but it didn’t feel normal to be this unfazed by the possibility of a terrorist attack.

I suppressed the urge to let out a deep sigh.

Looking at Yun sleeping, I spoke.

“Can I catch him?”

“As long as you don’t get hurt, yes.”

“By any means?”

“If possible, don’t make it noticeable. You’re far too famous now; I trust you know that.”

“I do. If I capture him and the victims permit it afterward, can I keep him with me?”

Only then did Yehyeon turn his head toward me.

He examined me with eyes impossible to read.

“Yes.”

A reply that came only after some time.

“But he won’t be a pleasant roommate. He hates you.”

“That’s why I want to live with him—so I can apologize and soothe him. As long as he doesn’t commit more crimes.”

He was someone who once loved his kin more than anyone.

I didn’t want to give up on him. He had already committed a grave sin, but I didn’t believe it was irreversible. I wanted to stop him before he crossed a line he couldn’t come back from.

Before, twisted as he was, he took an innocent human life.

I would have to contact Hesh again later.

As I was thinking that, staring blankly ahead, Yehyeon called my name.

“Mm?”

“Your phone.”

I turned my head. Yehyeon pointed at my phone with a finger.

“It’s been ringing nonstop....”

Ah.

Kairos.

I quickly answered.

[Captain?]

“Sorry.”

I must have scared him.

“I called because I had a question. Sorry for calling late at night. But it’s a bit difficult to talk right now—can I call you later?”

[Ah, of course.]

Relief was clear in Kairos’s voice.

[I’m glad nothing happened. Call me anytime.]

Nineteen missed calls.

I had set the phone to silent and hadn’t noticed. Feeling guilty toward my steward, I put the phone back into my pocket after the call ended.

Yehyeon let out a small laugh.

“He must’ve been very worried.”

“...He worries more now that we reunited.”

He wasn’t like this before. He always supported me, yes, but he didn’t obsess over my safety. His affection always expressed itself through trust—by letting me be.

But that trustful distance was gone. Ever since the ruined amusement park incident, since falling with San, his worry had only grown.

Hearing my muttered “I didn’t know a person could change this much,” Yehyeon laughed quietly.

“I think I’d be the same.”

Why.

“Go make your call. I’m sleeping here tonight.”

“I figured.”

Even if I told him to go rest, he wouldn’t listen. No point in arguing—better to get a blanket.

I greeted Ami as she came in with her still-wet hair, then stepped out of the hospital room.

A few hours later, when I returned, I draped a thick blanket over Yehyeon and Ami sleeping on the foldable bed.

***

[Ami: Hilde, you brought the blanket? Thanks!! (running chick emoji) Oppa just woke up!]

[Lee Yehyeon – Private Number: You must be tired... did you stop by at dawn? Rest well today.]

[Ska: If you have time, could we grab a coffee? With Jack too, if possible.]

[Hesh: Oh hey Hilde! You must be back? I’m fine so calm down!]

Calm down, my ass.

The moment I read Hesh’s message, I quickly sent replies. How did he get hurt, how badly, where was he now....

Hesh simply replied, Let’s get dinner sometime this week!

No, answer me.

No response.

Are all kids like this nowadays?

I stared sulkily at the silent phone. No reply from Yun either. My message—How are you feeling? If you’re okay, I’ll visit tonight—was read and ignored.

I hoped it was just his usual ignoring. Not that he was too weak to reply.

I was staring at the chat window—always ending with my message—when I sensed someone behind me.

I turned my head to see who it was.

A man with red hair and orange eyes—rare even among humans—stood there, looking down at me with a large box tucked under his arm.

Milk, who had been dozing on my thigh, hopped down onto the floor.

“You came early.”

“Home is five minutes by foot.”

Kairos set down the box full of papers and patted Milk on the head.

“These were things I often looked over and organized, so they were easy to gather.”

Information about Yo.

It contained everything from the time I disappeared, after the war ended, up until now. Photos, documents, even journals, he said.

Before Kairos became famous and drifted away from the kin, these were the things he absentmindedly kept stacking up.

I quietly stared at the papers packed inside the box.

A hand suddenly reached toward me.

“What, what.”

“Who hit you?”

Kairos stared directly at the bruises on my neck and collarbone.

I grabbed the fingers of the kin tugging on the neckline of my sweatshirt and pulled them away.

“A senior. I didn’t dodge, and I got treated, so stop worrying.”

“May I know the senior’s name.”

“What for. I told you. He’s a senior who always took care of me, so I just let him hit me.”

Kairos stared at me, at my defensive answer.

With my lips pressed tight, I studied the steward’s unreadable eyes.

He wasn’t as senseless as Rose, but he did have moments where he suddenly went off.

Kairos smiled faintly.

“Be grateful I’m not Igor.”

I gave him a drained, horrified look.

“You haven’t heard from him yet, right?”

“Not yet.”

“Good. I really want to meet him only after the visible bruises fade.”

“At this time of year I thought Yo would’ve been caught by Igor already.”

The steward laughed off my muttered comment and reached into the box.

He pulled out a bundle of printed photographs in various colors.

Familiar faces filled them. Deltei with her red hair, inspecting the YouTube equipment she’d bought. Rose smoking a cigarette while staring at the sunset. Yo clutching his head over paperwork.

And the rest of my kin living their ordinary daily lives.

All right. Don’t cry.

I steadied the edges of my eyes, which were starting to redden.

There were urgent matters to handle, so I had to stay sharp.

“Did you say Yo aimed for the Commander?”

Kairos’s question brought my mind back to the present.

I kept flipping through the photos and nodded.

“You saw the reports. The Commander attack. The bullet that would’ve pierced Yehyeon’s lung if Ska hadn’t pulled him away—it had ‘In memory of Adam’ engraved on it.”

“That child would never want himself to be memorialized that way.”

Kairos murmured with a cold, unreadable smile.

His gaze stayed glued to my phone screen, where the news article was still open.

“They should’ve written the youngest Swordmaster’s name if anything.”

“He might put Rei’s name next time. Since he has no grudge against Ami or Hesh, he seems to have stopped at inflicting ‘light wounds’... but if you watch the footage, you can tell he really meant to kill Yehyeon.”

“Right. Just like how he stamped a seal into your abdomen.”

There was barbed steel in his voice.

I pretended not to hear it.

I had ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) tried to hide the stamped brand entirely. I thought it would only make him worry. It was also humiliating.

But it wasn’t something that could stay hidden. Ami had been the one who trained under Kairos.

I didn’t know when the two had spoken, but one day Kairos came to me with a hardened face.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

I had blinked, unable to understand what he meant, and the steward crossed his arms with a deep frown.

“You only said they handed you over to an extremist group.”

“Ah.”

It had been a long time since I’d seen him seethe with such cold anger.

I managed to talk my way out of it then, but it seemed he still hadn’t completely calmed down.

I should redirect his focus quickly.

I pulled out a stack of documents and pretended to study them diligently. These were internal rules Yo had drafted among the kin. Decrees neatly recorded from decades ago to just a few years back.

So clean. Very Yo-like.

Seeing how hard he must have fought alone while I was gone made my chest ache.

Strangely, I felt full.

Especially the area around the brand on my abdomen....

...Oh.

“Kairos.”

I sighed as I found my kin standing right in front of me, lifting my shirt.

“I do have such a thing as privacy.”

“The imprint is quite strange.”

Kairos ignored me cheerfully.

“It looks like there were letters here... but you must’ve gotten injured over this area again later?”

“...Well, something like that.”

“You took the exam with this kind of wound? What were you thinking?”

“I passed everything anyway. On my own. And Kairos, you never used to nag like this. You’re worse than Igor.”

“Igor?”

Kairos lowered my shirt and lifted his head.

He blinked once while looking into my eyes, then let out a long laugh as if I’d said something absurd and amusing.

“Isn’t that obvious? That man never nagged you verbally.”

“He didn’t say it. He acted it out.”

“Hahaha! Really? I didn’t know.”

“Yeah. Sometimes he crossed the line. Barely.”

“You’ve always been a tough one.”

His orange eyes curved gently.

Holding the drowsy Milk in one hand, Kairos suddenly recalled something I had long forgotten.

“Well, even before the world collapsed, he swore loyalty not to the Emperor, but to you, Hildebert. Not surprising, really.”

Ah.

Right.

It had been so long since the Emperor passed away that I had forgotten.

I touched my head as the memory resurfaced—situations where several nearly lost their necks because of Igor’s insane, bull-like stubbornness. Just remembering it sent a chill down my spine.

These weren’t memories anyone would want to relive.

And the problem was that even after all that, Igor’s stubbornness never broke. In the end, it was the Treasurer and the Archmage who broke first. Instead of trying to redirect Igor’s loyalty, they compromised by nagging me to properly manage that big tiger muzzle.

I think I handled their nagging well enough.

At least until I vanished from Earth.

“If he learns about the branding incident, Yo’s limbs won’t stay intact.”

“Then let’s find Yo first.”

Suddenly tense, I began frantically rifling through the documents.

“I’m going to catch that perfectly healthy strategist, and make him apologize to Ami, Hesh, and Tom.”