The Espers Who Regretted Losing Me Chapter 47

I lowered my gaze, trying my best to look shameless, but my heart still thudded wildly.

A moment later, irritation surged up.

Of all the countless gates out there, why did this place have to reconnect again?
And why—of all countries—ours?

It would’ve been better if it had opened somewhere no one would ever find it. The Mongolian steppes. Some random desert. This damn gate doesn’t even have principles.

If it was going to have unstable wavelengths, it should’ve stayed that way. Why change whenever it feels like it?

As I grumbled internally and looked ahead, all three of them just stood there in silence, faces twisted like they were about to cry. That only worsened my mood.

I’d always thought they were the kind of trash people who would never bow their heads to anyone.

No matter how much I begged, pleaded, or broke down, they’d never once tried to change.
But now that I was seeing this… it wasn’t that they couldn’t—they simply didn’t want to.

Forget payback. I’m just furious.

I really suffered.
I suffered so, so much.

“…You said you’d do anything I want, right? Then could you just go back like this? I want to stay here, living without remembering anything.”

The words slipped out like pus bursting from a swollen wound.

Of course, I didn’t expect them to actually comply. I wasn’t a corpse—they’d never leave a living person behind.

This was just me making my stance clear.

Besides, it looks like you’ve found another guide anyway. You don’t really need me.

But apparently, my words hurt them far more than they’d expected.

The first to react was Lee Shinra.

His face turned so pale it looked completely drained of blood as he began to sob miserably.

Like a child shivering in the cold, he hugged himself tightly, his trembling form eerily similar to how he’d looked when we were younger.

Yeon Dogyeong and Cha Eunhwi weren’t much different. Their faces stiffened under the storm of emotions crashing through them.

…This is seriously annoying.

If someone who didn’t know the full story saw this, they’d probably think I was heartless.

They’d say things like, “They’re reflecting so deeply—can’t you just forgive them?”

That’s how wounded the three of them looked.

But the knot in my chest wasn’t something that formed overnight.
It was an accumulation of emotions layered over seven long years—far too heavy to be canceled out by the one good year we’d had when we first met.

A few tears—
No, more than a few—but even so, it wasn’t something that could disappear just because they cried like this.

Words are like that.

They leave no physical shape behind, yet each one can bring joy—or pain.

And words that wound… no matter how hard you try to forget them, they carve themselves into you like scars.

Then, one day, they suddenly resurface, dragging old pain back with them.

Do you have any idea how much I cried when I was little?

How devastating it was that the friends who filled the void my family left behind treated me like a tool—carelessly, thoughtlessly.

You’ll never understand that.

The suffocating silence dragged on, until—

Thump.
Thooom.
Thump.

A familiar vibration rippled through the ground.

It sounded like the giant rabbit was coming this way.

But the espers, who had no idea what that sound meant, sprang to their feet with pale faces and positioned themselves around me.

“Ah, that’s—”

I tried to say it was nothing to worry about, but before I could finish, Lee Shinra’s barrier wrapped tightly around me.

And then—

Blood began to stream from his nose.

One of the classic symptoms of an esper forcibly using their power without proper guiding.

Shinra wiped the blood away with the back of his hand and turned to me.

“Don’t worry, noona. This time, no matter what, I’ll protect you. I swear.”

“Shinra, maintain the barrier. Dogyeong, just threaten it—don’t attack. Both of you, no offensive moves. If it gets close, I’ll widen the distance.”

At Cha Eunhwi’s immediate orders, Yeon Dogyeong and Lee Shinra nodded.

Several baseball-sized fireballs floated into the air.

As expected, Yeon Dogyeong also used his ability—and promptly coughed up blood with a dry hacking sound.

Another textbook symptom of insufficient guiding.

What is this? Don’t tell me there really isn’t another guide?

Their faces looked awful, but they’d seemed stable just moments ago—yet now they were a mess.

Despite the obvious pain, neither of them showed it. Their eyes stayed locked on the direction the rabbit was coming from.

The rabbit bounded closer—then, unlike usual, stopped at a considerable distance.

The espers, tense and on edge, stared blankly at the creature that looked… like nothing more than an oversized rabbit.

Lee Shinra murmured,

“A bizarre baby lop-ear…? A baby…?”

“How the hell does that look like a baby?” Yeon Dogyeong shot back incredulously.

Honestly, I thought the same thing.
You were a baby…?

“…It is bizarre,” Cha Eunhwi added quietly.

That part, at least, was undeniable.

As if unaware of our confusion, the giant rabbit tilted its head and began circling us.

Given its massive size, even that simple movement caused the ground to tremble again.

The vibrations woke the baby snake, which let out a small kyuruk as it stirred.

As I lowered the snake from my shoulder, a startled Lee Shinra spoke up.

“I-Is it threatening us?”

Nope.

“It’s wagging its tail a lot. Looks like a warning—like it’s telling us to leave.”

Also nope.

I glanced sideways at Yeon Dogyeong’s pale face.

He used to be curious whenever monsters showed up.

Seeing him this tense—too sharp, too alert—felt strange and uncomfortable.

Is this… because of me?

Honestly, it didn’t feel good.

Knowing that someone I disliked had developed trauma because of me—and even changed their disposition for my sake—made me deeply uneasy.

Especially when that someone was him.

Because of Cha Eunhwi’s order not to attack, Yeon Dogyeong could only glare at the rabbit.

I let out a sigh and cut through their tension with a blunt tone.

“Hey. You don’t have to be that on guard. That rabbit’s been living with me.”

“L-Living… with it? A monster… I mean, a creature from inside the gate—”

“It’s just big. It’s gentle and well-behaved.”

And it was true.

The giant rabbit—officially named Bizarre Baby Lop-Ear—never attacked or made threatening noises.

Even so, Yeon Dogyeong and Lee Shinra couldn’t seem to relax.

Then, Cha Eunhwi spoke quietly.

“I’ve read that circling behavior can be a sign of affection.”

“Affection? Toward who?”

“…Hyeya. Does that monster usually behave like this? As a sign of familiarity.”

Yeon Dogyeong’s uncomfortable question made Cha Eunhwi hesitate before turning to me.

I shook my head immediately.

“No. …At night, when it gets cold, it hugs me or offers its back. It taps me with its paws or head, brings me food, and if I don’t show up for too long, it comes to find me.”

I hadn’t meant to be that specific—but I deliberately listed everything, one by one.

To show them I’d been fine here.
That I could continue to be fine.

Of course, Cha Eunhwi noticed the intent behind my words instantly.

But instead of responding, he quickly turned his head away, avoiding my gaze.

Then, uncharacteristically flustered, he said,

“Ah… perhaps that lop-ear simply prefers women. There are monsters that target specific genders, and even animals sometimes fear men or follow women more closely, so maybe—”

That lack of confidence was unfamiliar too.

Even without touching them or focusing, I could tell.

Cha Eunhwi was extremely anxious.

Are they really trying to just… let this slide?

Even knowing the lop-ear was harmless, all three of them remained silent.

They stayed that way until the rabbit finally seemed to tire of circling us and plopped down onto the ground.

Only then did the trembling of the earth finally stop.