The Espers Who Regretted Losing Me Chapter 32

If only it had never appeared again. If only it had stayed gone forever—then everything would have been better.

The last person who had been with Hyeya was Shinra. The one who hurt Hyeya the most was Shinra.

The one who had been holding Hyeya’s hand, and the one who let go of it—
was Shinra.

“I… because of me, noona… I told her—said we had to hold on tight… but…”

Why did he let go? Why—why couldn’t he grip her harder? Why did he say those things? Why?

From that day on, Shinra had nightmares every single night.

Not a single day passed without them. Even if he slept for only a moment, Hyeya from that day would appear.

No matter how desperately he reached for her, he could never touch her.

Cruelly enough, the nightmare always replayed the moment right after he had hurled cruel words at her.

There had been a book he read as a child— about a man who descended into hell to retrieve his dead wife.

If something like that were possible in reality, Shinra would have endured any pain to bring Hyeya back.

A hundred times. A thousand times.

But even if they entered the gate now, Hyeya wouldn’t be there. Even if, by some miracle, they found traces of her— it would only be a corpse.

Dohyeong and Eunhwi understood that feeling all too well.

They regretted it too.

Why they hadn’t stayed together. Why they hadn’t protected her, knowing how fragile she was. Why, of all days, they had spoken the way they did that day.

Even so, they had to go.

If something remained, they would find it, hold a funeral properly— and then die.

A world without Hyeya had no meaning.

And if there was nothing left, they would never leave the gate.

They would dive into a monster’s stomach and feel every ounce of the fear and pain Hyeya must have felt.

And they wanted to atone there, until their breath finally stopped where Hyeya slept.

That was why they couldn’t force Shinra to stand.

Eunhwi looked down at Shinra’s trembling shoulders, then turned to Jung Sigeom and spoke.

“We’re not planning to force Shinra to go. Dohyeong and I alone should be enough—”

“N-no! No, I—I will too…!”

Shinra lifted his head and cut Eunhwi off urgently.

He seemed startled by his own reflexive outburst, but they all knew— this was their last chance.

“….”

His eyes, swollen from nonstop crying, filled with tears again.

“I’ll go with you. I’ll go. Together.”

Murmuring those words, Shinra broke down into louder sobs.

About two hours later, the three of them finished preparing and set out to enter the gate.

They wanted to leave immediately, but their conditions were so bad that maintenance was unavoidable.

When they arrived at Area A–3, the squads and researchers who had been waiting near the rift withdrew, just in case.

The space looked grotesquely unfamiliar, as if reality itself had been twisted and torn.

“…Let’s go.”

Clenching his fist tightly, Eunhwi spoke.

Their goal this time was not a clear. They didn’t need to say it out loud—everyone knew.

Eunhwi stepped in first. Dohyeong followed. Shinra went last, wiping his damp eyes with the back of his hand.

Soon, a familiar yet unfamiliar pressure crashed down on them more intensely than ever. The suffocating tightness was closer to pain, forcing ragged breaths from each of them.

It wasn’t physical pain. It was psychological shock.

The gate itself rejected them, carrying the trauma of having lost Hyeya with their own hands.

But this—this was nothing.

Compared to the pain and despair Hyeya must have felt.

After a brief moment, the scenery that unfolded before them was deeply strange.

The place they remembered had been a mix of blazing red skies and ashen gray ones. But now, the sky above was high and blue.

The volcanic and glacial zones that once dominated the landscape were nowhere to be seen.

Everywhere they looked was lush with greenery, fresh and vibrant like spring. It truly looked like a paradise.

Paradise.

The moment that name crossed his mind, Shinra felt his breath catch. He dropped to his knees, gasping.

A message appeared in his blurred vision.

[ You have entered ‘The Reclaimed Bizarre Paradise’. ]

This was the place. The place where Hyeya had died.

‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡
Maximum Occupancy — 10 (+0)
Connections — 2
Fastest Clear Time — 00:54:32
Total Casualties — 0
‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡‡

It should have been so.

“…Hyungs.”

Shinra turned around blankly.

Dohyeong and Eunhwi wore similar expressions, their gazes fixed on empty air.

Since merged gates are reclassified as separate gates, all records are reset.

The number of connections was correct. The clear time was correct.

But the casualty count still being zero made no sense. If Hyeya had died, that number should have been one.

At that moment, a familiar sensation drifted in on the breeze.

They felt it.

Hyeya’s presence.

Warmth they had thought they would never feel again gently wrapped around their bodies.

Without a word, the three of them began walking toward it.

Their legs were stiff. Desperation and longing blurred their vision.

Soft grass crunched beneath their feet. Warm, fragrant air filled their lungs. Small animals darted playfully around them.

The peaceful scenery was nothing like the countless distorted versions that had haunted their nightmares.

After walking for a long time, they saw it—a towering tree.

Red fruit hung thickly from its branches, proving that this was indeed the same place as a year ago.

Dohyeong, walking in front, froze mid-step as he scanned his surroundings.

Eunhwi and Shinra slowed with him.

Their gazes were fixed on the same spot.

On a hill covered in blooming white flowers, someone was lying down.

Their guide.

Hair spread messily, exactly as she had looked that day.

A quiet, steady breathing reached their sharpened ears.

She was alive.

They wanted to call her name. They wanted to run to her and hold her.

But not a single finger, foot, or lip would move.

Time passed like an eternity.

They saw a small white snake coil around Hyeya’s arm.

Shinra nearly screamed, but stopped himself.

The snake flicked its tongue at them, tilted its head, and chirped, “Kyuu?” Then gently tapped Hyeya’s cheek with its tail.

Moments later, long lashes fluttered.

Hyeya rubbed her eyes and sat up. She yawned—and smiled brightly at the snake.

“…Hyeya, noona.”

“Hyeya…”

“You… you were alive— huh?”

Once again, voices escaped without anyone meaning to speak first.

Only then did Hyeya notice them. She startled and turned toward them.

They thought she would get angry. Or cry.

After all, they had left her behind inside the gate. There was no excuse.

But Hyeya did neither.

She hesitated, eyes darting anxiously, then spoke.

“W-who are you?”

A frightened expression. A voice full of confusion.

Holding the snake close, she widened her eyes and added,

“Do you… know me?”

Only then did they realize it.

Their guide was alive— but she had forgotten everything.

Perhaps this was the god’s final mercy.

A chance to start over. To repent, to atone, to beg forgiveness.

Staring at Hyeya for a long time, the three of them finally dropped to their knees and cried.

“Hic… noona. Hyeya, noona… noona…”

“…Hyeya. Hyeya… Hyeya…”

“Yoon Hyeya, I—I… hic, I…”

And Yoon Hyeya, watching the three of them anxiously, thought:

Ah. Life really is trash. But if anyone’s going to cry, shouldn’t it be me? Why are you three crying?