Between Fate and Choice

When Won-gyeong reached out to me, the glance Jeong Iheon shot past him was aimed at Hyeon Jaeyul.

Ju Noeul was the same.

If those two had been standing in front of me, I would have been the only one dropped into the rift.

It was luck that Won-gyeong had been in front of me.

Because I understood their reactions as natural, I didn’t feel hurt or disappointed.

We weren’t close enough for feelings like that to exist in the first place.

Falling into a rift was undeniably bad luck, but among that misfortune, I’d ended up with Won-gyeong—someone who behaved with a reasonable degree of fairness.

Won-gyeong was the one who had instantly grasped the bunker’s structure, dismantled multiple mechanisms in one sweep, and opened it.

Among the four intruders who had taken over my bunker, he was very likely the smartest.

‘Until we get out of this rift, I’m not letting this guy out of my sight.’

With that thought, I grabbed his hand tightly again just as he was about to let go after helping me up.

This was basically my lifeline. How could I possibly let it go?

But once again, Won-gyeong hardened his expression with excessive rationality.

With his other hand, he coolly pushed mine away.

“Holding hands makes it harder to respond to sudden situations.

Grabbing my collar is out too. I get that you’re anxious, but right now—”

“Okay, I’ll let go.”

And I did. Immediately.

Won-gyeong was right.

If I kept holding onto him, it would only slow him down if combat broke out.

I quickly released his hand, looked up at him, and asked,

“Is it better if I stay beside you, or behind you?”

He looked down at me for a moment with an expression I couldn’t quite read.

It seemed like disbelief, or maybe surprise.

After watching me with that ambiguous emotion, he finally spoke.

“…Beside me should be fine.”

“Okay. Can I talk to you? I have a few things I want to ask.”

The argument before we fell into the rift had already exposed my personality, but I blinked innocently as I asked.

Won-gyeong, unfazed, scanned the surroundings and replied casually.

“Talking is fine.”

I had his permission.

I immediately asked the thing I was most curious about.

“Doesn’t… your perception change when you enter a rift?”

“What do you mean by perception changing?”

Won-gyeong asked back, as if he didn’t quite understand.

Just from that reaction, I got all the information I needed.

He didn’t immediately grasp what I meant by perception changing.

Which meant other people didn’t move differently in rifts compared to reality.

My improved vision, my increased strength—those were abnormalities unique to me.

And there was no upside to letting more of my abnormalities slip.

I replied in a casual tone.

“Earlier, because of the dizziness.

We fell into the rift so suddenly, but getting motion sickness in that short span felt weird. I wondered if it messed with your senses.”

“Oh, that’s just plain motion sickness.
Your senses aren’t affected, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

“I see.”

Won-gyeong explained it just as casually as I’d asked.

If Jeong Iheon had been beside me instead of Won-gyeong, he would’ve instantly realized that my answer didn’t match the intent of the question.

That man was so perceptive it felt like he could read minds.

Sharp observation, quick intuition—exactly the type who was exhausting to be around.

Fortunately, while Won-gyeong seemed intelligent, he didn’t appear good at picking up on ambiguous subtext hidden in conversation.

Maybe he’d lived a life where reading between the lines wasn’t necessary.

‘But this too is another one of my abnormalities….’

On top of seeing the system, I slipped my consciousness into someone else’s body while asleep, and inside rifts, my physical abilities multiplied several times over.

Even to myself, I was a walking pile of red flags.

After a moment of thought, I decided to drop questions about myself and instead ask about rifts or the ability-user group.

It would be strange to say I had questions and then not ask any.

I agonized over what kind of question would still place me in the category of a ‘normal person’ who had ‘just learned about ability users.’

Anything involving companions, the system, or knowing there was a larger problem to solve was obviously off-limits.

My hesitation after the first question must have dragged on, because I felt Won-gyeong glance at me.

I needed to start the second question soon.

“This way.”

The hesitation ended anticlimactically.

At the fork in the path, Won-gyeong pointed decisively in one direction, as if he were reading a map.

[TIP! It is recommended to choose the left path.]

The same path the system indicated.

As I walked along the route both Won-gyeong and the system guided me toward, I asked,

“How do you know to go this way? This rift just formed, right?

But you’re acting like you know the path.”

“That’s not something you’d understand even if I explained it.”

Unlike before, when he’d answered my questions readily, Won-gyeong deflected this one in a dry tone.

Since earlier, he’d been rolling something that looked like a coin between his fingers.

Now, as he answered curtly, his hand dropped, and he pinched the coin between his thumb and forefinger.

A habit when thinking, maybe.

It didn’t sound like he was unwilling to talk. More like he genuinely believed I wouldn’t understand.

I stared at his unmoved expression and said,

“I still want to hear it.”

At my near-muttered insistence, Won-gyeong looked off into the distance, as if thinking, then spoke.

“It’s similar to Jaeyul’s ability to detect and locate rifts. Mine’s just a bit more… unscientific.”

“Unscientific?”

“Do you believe in superstition?”

Superstition.

I’d never really given it much thought. I shook my head briefly.

“Then it might be hard to believe, but since you want to hear it, I’ll explain. You remember when I said I could see your energy, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Some people call it a soul, but I don’t think that’s accurate. It feels more like a collection of consciousness.”

I tilted my head at the vague explanation.

What did that have to do with anything?

“So you chose the path because you saw something like that?”

“Not exactly. Aside from seeing those things, I can do a lot more.

I can manifest things people would call curses or sorcery.

Finding the path just now was a simplified form of divination.

Choosing the better of two paths is easy and doesn’t strain me.”

[You have obtained ability information for ‘Won-gyeong’!]

[Sub-scenario ‘Won-gyeong 1 – Observation’ has begun.]

[Current progress: 4%]

Curses? Sorcery? Divination?

Compared to that, my ability to see the system felt downright ordinary.

Was the thing I was trying so hard to hide actually not worth hiding at all?

While I stood there blankly, Won-gyeong suddenly held the coin up in my line of sight.

It was a plain silver coin with no markings, so featureless it was hard to tell front from back.

“For questions that can be answered with yes or no, one coin is enough.

It’s good for detecting lies, but…”

I flinched.

‘If he has an ability like that, does that mean he already saw through my lie about knowing Jaeyul?’

Heart tightening, I focused intently on his next words.

It felt like his lips were moving in slow motion.

“There are limitations, though. For example, a statement like you knowing Jaeyul.”

“Hm?”

“I judge based on the moment I ask.

Even if you ‘just now’ became acquainted with Jaeyul, it still counts as knowing him.”

After finishing his explanation, Won-gyeong gave a small smile at my frozen expression.

I nodded, hiding my tension.

Summoning every ounce of acting skill I had, I put on the calmest face possible.

“I see. That’s fascinating.”

After answering with forced composure, I smoothly changed the topic.

“Then this path is safe, right?”

Hearing the question, Won-gyeong pocketed the coin and replied,

“In the end.”

“…In the end?”

That phrasing was deeply unsettling.

“In the end” implied the final outcome. Which meant the process could be dangerous.

I looked up at Won-gyeong without hiding my distrust.

“As long as the result is good, isn’t that enough?”

“I think the process matters….”

He replied flatly, staring straight ahead.

I countered in a small voice,

“Maybe.”

That was the end of it.

Won-gyeong spoke no further, as if he had no intention of entertaining my objection.

I didn’t have a better alternative anyway.

The system continued to guide me along the path Won-gyeong chose.

Even if I ignored both the system and Won-gyeong and picked a different route, he wouldn’t follow me.

Though he acted as if he’d protect me, if our opinions diverged, he seemed like the type who would leave me behind in the rift without hesitation.

‘He did shield me when the rift formed, so maybe he’s not that cold….’

Still, it was probably better not to argue.

I wasn’t in a position to present a more reasonable alternative path.