At the Center of the Rift

“It’s a straightforward approach.”

After some thought, Jeong Iheon finally spoke.

“Is there anything I can help with?”

He probably could help.

But Jeong Iheon was a special case—the first person within the simulation to recover his memories.

Because of that anomaly, we’d awakened once before and returned to the original dimension.

If we were still inside the apocalypse simulation now, there was no way to be certain what consequences that anomaly might bring.

Looking at Jeong Iheon, who was watching me with genuine concern, I spoke with an unusually serious expression.

“Maybe later. But not right now. So please—just this once—let it go.”

Jeong Iheon let out a long sigh.

He ran a hand through his hair and said quietly,

“If anything happens, call me. Anytime. Just… please don’t do anything dangerous.”

He looked sincerely worried.

The devotion Jeong Iheon and Hyeon Jaeyul showed me was made up of things I still didn’t understand.

I wished my memories would come back already.

Jeong Iheon, who had been ruffling his hair, checked my expression—then suddenly pulled me into a light embrace.

He tugged me in by the shoulders, patted my head, and said almost pleadingly,

“It’s okay if you don’t remember. Just… call me whenever you need me.”

No matter how I looked at it, Jeong Iheon seemed to have the ability to read my thoughts—at least when it came to me.

It was strange how quickly he sensed even the faintest trace of guilt and immediately tried to soothe it.

I pushed his arm away and, looking at the tattoos carved into his hand, asked,

“Jeong Iheon… what were we, really?”

Hyeon Jaeyul had only told me that we’d been fairly close, and nothing beyond that.

Whenever I tried to bring Jeong Iheon up, Jaeyul would frown just a little.

So I asked the question I’d never been able to ask him—directly to the person involved.

“What kind of relationship did we have?”

Jeong Iheon shrugged.

“Who knows.”

“Don’t dodge it. If we were really close, you’d hate that I don’t remember.”

“I’m fine with it.”

“You even carved those tattoos because of me. How old were you? Why did you do it?”

When I grabbed his arm and pressed him, Jeong Iheon gently pulled my hand away and tucked his arm behind his back in a teasing manner.

With his arm hidden, he smiled with his eyes and changed the subject.

“Anyway, I should get going. Call me if you need anything, Doya.”

Just moments ago he’d been holding onto me—and now he vanished without hesitation.

I stared blankly at the space he’d left behind.

Jeong Iheon was far too self-indulgent.

After parting with him—a man whose thoughts were impossible to read—I lingered near Won-gyeong’s room
and ended up getting caught by Ju Noeul.

Technically, we had agreed to meet, but what he did to me could only be described as being caught.

Ju Noeul grabbed the back of my neck with his large hand and leaned in close to my ear.

In a provocative tone, he said,

“Hey. You told me not to tell anyone—so why are you running around talking?”

His voice was sharp, but he didn’t sound angry. More like… wronged.

I shook off the hand that nearly wrapped around my entire neck and said,

“I told him because I thought it’d help.”

“You said it was a secret.”

“I don’t remember saying ‘secret.’ I said we’d keep it between us.”

“That’s the same thing!”

Ju Noeul raked a hand through his pale cream-colored hair like a madman, looking deeply aggrieved.

‘You don’t even have anyone to tell—so why are you acting so wronged?’

Leaving the noisy Ju Noeul behind as usual, I lightly knocked on Won-gyeong’s door.

Maybe he’d sensed the commotion outside, because the door opened with perfect timing.

Ignoring Ju Noeul completely, Won-gyeong held the door open for me and gestured inside.

“You’re not coming in?”

“Oh—yeah, I am!”

Ju Noeul raised his voice as he answered.

Seriously. Always so loud.

Just like yesterday, Won-gyeong placed a mug in front of me and sat down.

“What about mine?”

When nothing was set in front of him, Ju Noeul asked.

Won-gyeong smiled gently and replied,

“Make it yourself. Don’t you have hands?”

Ju Noeul froze, dumbfounded.

After offering him a polite smile, Won-gyeong immediately got to the point.

Watching Ju Noeul fail to even get a drink from anyone was oddly pitiful.

But that sympathy vanished the moment Won-gyeong continued.

“After thinking about what we discussed yesterday, I think moving with just Ju Noeul and me will be enough.”

“…Yeah. I guess I’d just get in the way.”

I nodded in agreement.

It was a reasonable conclusion.

If I joined them, I might actually restrict their movement.

Still, there were things only I could confirm—like how the system would react.

I hesitated, unsure.

“I might not be able to move with you, but I want to know what’s happening.”

When I said that quietly, Won-gyeong held out his hand toward me.

Palm up. As if asking me to place my hand there.

When I tilted my head in confusion, he explained,

“Your non-dominant hand. You’re right-handed, so your left. Put it here.”

I lifted my hand hesitantly.

With the back of my hand facing up, Won-gyeong began tracing something on it with his finger.

Since it was just his fingertip, I couldn’t tell what he was drawing.

After a short while, he stopped and murmured words that sounded like an unknown language.

Ju Noeul and I watched in silence.

Moments later, a brief sting ran through my hand, and a red light surfaced on the back of it.

A complex sigil emerged, glowing crimson.

“All done.”

“What did you do?”

“Like this—cover one eye with your palm.”

He demonstrated, covering his own eye.

I followed suit and covered my left eye.

“Huh?”

“What?”

“…I can see myself.”

With my left eye covered, my reflection appeared in the blocked field of vision—me, looking confused with my hand over my eye.

The split vision made me dizzy, so I closed my right eye instead.

My image became even clearer.

“It’s a spell that lets you share my vision. What you see through the covered eye is what I see.”

Whoa.

I dropped my hand, amazed at the sheer versatility of his ability.

Sure, a device with video transmission could do something similar, but this was on a completely different level.

Fascinated, I covered my eye a few more times.

Won-gyeong laughed softly.

‘…But is it really okay to share your vision like this?’

“How long does this spell last?”

“About a week.”

“Isn’t that too long? Are you sure that’s okay?”

If I accidentally tapped into his vision at the wrong time—

“Yeah. I’m fine with it. I’ve got nothing to hide.”

“No, but still…What about when you’re in the bathroom?”

Won-gyeong rested his chin on his hand and smiled gently.

“If it’s you, Doya, you can look anytime.”

“…No. I’ll only use it this once. I swear I won’t look again.”

“It’s really fine.”

“No. It wouldn’t be fine for me.”

“Want me to tell you when I shower?”

“Won-gyeong. That’s sexual harassment.”

“Ah—sorry. I’ve just never seen you this flustered before…”

I shook my head at his grin.

He was just as shameless as Jeong Iheon.

Ju Noeul, sitting beside us, stared at Won-gyeong in shock.

His expression screamed, Is this guy insane?

Won-gyeong noticed Ju Noeul’s accusatory look and calmly asked what his problem was.

Overpowered by that audacity, Ju Noeul couldn’t say a word.

Or maybe he just didn’t want to.

Once the commotion settled, Ju Noeul spoke in his usual blunt tone.

“If the simulation’s still ongoing, doesn’t that mean there’s a reason they separated the kid from us? Is it really okay to go looking for him on our own?”

I glanced at Ju Noeul and subtly gestured toward the translucent system window floating beside me.

Didn’t he see the word Tracking?

‘We’re supposed to find something here.’

After pointing out the system discreetly, I spoke aloud so it wouldn’t sound strange.

“He was in a dangerous place in the simulation we came from. If it’s the same again, we should save him.”

Ju Noeul frowned, clearly dissatisfied, but he didn’t argue.

He looked resigned—maybe because of the system, maybe because he genuinely cared about the kid.

When Ju Noeul quieted down, Won-gyeong continued.

“An ability that interferes with rifts is essential. If the apocalypse simulation is ongoing, then we need to experience the apocalypse here. And the only one who can make that possible is that kid.”

“What do you mean?”

“Hey, his rank’s too low. He wouldn’t know this. You should explain.”

“Oh right. Doya was B-rank.”

“And she doesn’t have her memories.”

When I failed to follow Won-gyeong’s explanation, Ju Noeul jerked his chin toward me and cut in.

His tone was indifferent, but unexpectedly considerate.

It seemed there were things only S-ranks were told.

Even if I had been S-rank, without my memories, I wouldn’t know them.

“I’ll skip the part about how Jaeyul can see where rifts will open—that’s something they told us. I’ll explain the rest.”

“Okay.”

“When rifts form in a densely concentrated area, they multiply in size.”

That was new to me.

“They absorb each other and grow.”

“Then if there are several large rifts…”

“Yeah. Once they merge, even multiple S-rank hunters can’t stop them. And at the center of those massive rifts is—”

“Here. The Hunter Association. Where we are right now.”

Ju Noeul finished Won-gyeong’s sentence.

Won-gyeong nodded and continued.

“Large rifts form frequently around the Association.

That location wasn’t chosen by accident. It was built there from the start to block rifts forming at the center—to prevent them from absorbing others and becoming massive.

Apparently, there used to be someone with an ability like Jaeyul’s—someone who could see where rifts would form.”

When Won-gyeong finished speaking, I realized my body had gone rigid with tension.