The Espers Who Regretted Losing Me Chapter 113

Latitude and longitude.

Coordinates used to indicate the exact location of a place on Earth.

…I knew that much, but this was the first time I had actually seen the numbers themselves.

“How did you recognize them right away?”

“When the expedition teams discover an irregular gate, they always report the latitude and longitude along with it so the exact location can be identified. They’re coordinates used all over the world, so other countries record them in the same format. I’ve seen those numbers often enough to recognize them.”

“I see. Then, mister… do you happen to know where these coordinates are? They’re not in another country, are they?”

“Don’t worry. They’re definitely in our country. However…”

“However?”

“I’m certain the coordinates point somewhere around Seoul, but I don’t know the exact location. It doesn’t seem to be a well-known place.”

Headquarters needed a large area because of the gate zone.

That was why the building had been built on the outskirts of the city, about one to two hours away from Seoul by car.

I remembered it clearly because it had taken about that long when I came to headquarters after my parents passed away.

“It would take a long time to walk there, wouldn’t it?”

“If you only consider the distance, it wouldn’t even take two days. Someone like you could probably make it in a single day, Hye-a. But that’s assuming the roads are in good condition and there are no dangers. Right now, you should probably expect it to take two or three times longer.”

That meant around five or six days, to be safe.

“I guess it can’t be helped. It’d be nice if there were a car…”

“No, Hye-a. It would not be nice. Absolutely not. Even if you find a vehicle that someone abandoned, you must never drive it. The roads are in terrible condition because of collapsed buildings, and the noise could attract monsters—or people with bad intentions. Do you understand?”

The director spoke more urgently than I had ever heard before.

Everything he said was true, but it was impossible not to notice the underlying fear that he simply couldn’t trust my driving.

Since I had only been half-joking anyway, I nodded.

“Yes, mister. I won’t drive, so don’t worry.”

“…Good.”

Seeing how genuinely relieved he looked left me feeling a little conflicted, but I was an objective person.

I knew just how terrible my driving was, so I ignored it and continued.

“The problem is that even if I get to Seoul, I have no way of figuring out exactly where this place is.”

It’s not like I could ask people.

I was staring intently at the paper when—

“Come to think of it, Hye-a. Didn’t you still have the phone headquarters issued you?”

The director, deep in thought, looked toward the bag I was carrying.

I took the phone out of the front pocket.

I had kept it completely powered off.

Everything reset after a day anyway, and no one was going to call me.

Otherwise I’d be buried in notifications every time it reset.

The director’s expression brightened when he saw it.

“It’s not broken, is it?”

“It works fine. But what can I do with a phone?”

“You can check latitude and longitude using the map function.”

“But… it doesn’t get any signal at all.”

“That’s all right. The map still works even without an internet connection.”

I hadn’t known.

I’d simply never had a reason to use it.

While we were talking, the phone finished turning on.

It immediately vibrated as text messages and missed calls flooded in one after another.

While I was clearing them away, the director spoke.

“So the phone resets every time as well.”

“Yes. Even if I take pictures or write notes, they’re all gone the next day. At least the battery never runs out. Here, I’ve opened the map.”

The phone had been monitored, so there weren’t many apps installed to begin with.

I tapped the map icon on the home screen and showed him.

The director moved his fingers, operating the screen.

When he entered the latitude and longitude I had found in the operations room, the map zoomed in and out before displaying information for a building.

“…It’s a hospital.”

Sachorong Hospital.

The coordinates pointed to that exact location.

“Is it connected to the Association?”

At my immediate question, the director stared at the phone with an unreadable expression before nodding.

“It is connected, yes. You remember the stabilizer the ESP Association was developing, don’t you?”

“Oh, yes. They kept saying that if they perfected it, Guides wouldn’t even be necessary anymore. They also said it was close to being released.”

“That’s right. The medicine originally had side effects. The person who eliminated those side effects by refining the formula was the director of this hospital.”

“…The hospital director worked for the Association?”

I vaguely remembered hearing that the stabilizer had originally been developed overseas, but that the Korean Association had used the research to eliminate its side effects.

I had never cared who was responsible.

It had nothing to do with me.

So this was completely unexpected.

Still wearing that uncertain expression, the director continued.

“Come to think of it, they left before you arrived at headquarters. They originally worked in the laboratory… That’s right. They’re a relative of Dr. Song Yu-seong.”

“A relative? Then does that mean Dr. Song Yu-seong also…”

…went to that hospital?

I swallowed the rest of the sentence before it could leave my mouth.

The director’s expression had noticeably stiffened.

Until now, I had never deliberately asked about anyone other than Yeon Do-gyeong, Lee Shin-ra, and Cha Eun-hwi.

So unless I happened to overhear something, I knew nothing.

Partly because I hadn’t been especially close to anyone else.

But also because, deep down, I assumed no one could possibly have survived after the world had ended up like this.

Especially considering the state of headquarters, it was obvious there were far more dead people than living ones.

“…Anyway, it doesn’t seem to be a completely unrelated place, so I should go there first.”

I quickly pushed the pale, familiar face that had appeared in my mind away and spoke as if nothing had happened.

Like always, it was better not to know bad news.

The director didn’t show any reaction either and smoothly followed the sudden change of topic.

“Yes. Besides, if they deliberately left those coordinates behind in the operations room, they may have been intended as a message for you. It’s just…”

“You don’t have to worry about me, mister. You saw it yourself. Who besides me has fought a basilisk alone and come back perfectly fine as a Guide? At this point I’m practically half an Esper… Actually, no. I don’t like Espers, so let’s leave that out. Just think of me as stronger than a weak Esper.”

“…Well, that’s certainly true.”

“Right? And I’m not leaving immediately. Like I said earlier, I’m going to study monster behavior and things like that first. So please teach me.”

I planned to ask everyone not only about monsters, but also about different kinds of dangerous situations and how to deal with them ahead of time.

Once I made it clear that I intended to prepare thoroughly, some of the worry on the director’s face finally eased.

“I never realized it before, Hye-a, but you’re just like your parents.”

“Before I came to headquarters, people used to tell me I was their spitting image. Both my mom and dad were incredibly passionate people. I may have lived like a sloth while I was here, but that was only because the environment turned me into one…”

“I’m sorry.”

“I wasn’t trying to make you apologize.”

For a moment I wondered if he was joking.

But his expression was far too serious—and far too bitter.

Seeing my confusion, the director smiled sadly and continued.

“I don’t know about other countries, but the Korean ESP Association was never an organization that was truly right. My ability to manage it was also deeply flawed.”

“If you’re talking about the gate outbreak, that wasn’t your fault.”

“I know that disaster was beyond human control. That’s not what I mean. What I’m talking about is how, regardless of what society believed, we continued maintaining a system where someone always had to sacrifice themselves and bear the burden. I never stopped to think that such a system itself was wrong.”

“…Espers and Guides?”

“Yes. Because I was an Esper myself… No, that’s not really the important part. This is a matter of human nature. I knew Guides were being treated unfairly, yet I stood by and never considered it as serious as I should have. Whatever my reasons, that was something that could never be excused.”

“That’s true.”

His assessment of himself was so painfully objective that I nodded without hesitation.