Chapter 71 - Welcome Party (3)

* * *

Today had originally been a day off, but their schedule had changed the moment everyone saw the message Hyeon-yul sent.

—...Let's have that welcome party.

The fact that Hyeon-yul himself had suggested it sent a jolt through them, as though an electric current had run all the way to their scalps. Everyone except Hyeon-yul must have felt the same excitement. With expectations running so high, there was no telling how wild the welcome party might become. It was safer to give everyone tomorrow off as a precaution.

‘Even I might have trouble keeping them under control.’

Under ordinary circumstances, a welcome party ought to take place within the new recruit's first week, but the Black Eagles were different. Given the nature of their work, there was always the possibility that someone would die on a mission, and that inevitably delayed such gatherings. Nevertheless, the organization encouraged welcome parties. A colleague who was here today might no longer be here tomorrow, so the policy was intended to leave as few regrets as possible.

‘...Let's try to enjoy ourselves.’

Haeryeon tried to put those unhappy thoughts aside. In truth, every time someone mentioned a welcome party, her heart ached. She hated being reminded all over again of how many people had died.

“I know. I've been waiting for this the whole time.”

Shinwoo answered enthusiastically, and Haeryeon smiled. This was the sort of atmosphere she had hoped for.

“For once, I agree with Baek Shinwoo. I've been looking forward to this day too.”

Even Nayun spoke with unusual force. Jihwan looked at Hyeon-yul, then quietly called to the others.

“Hyung. Noona.”

With a subtle movement of his eyes, Jihwan directed their attention toward Hyeon-yul. His face had gone stiff.

“Hyung, you're not nervous, are you?”

Jihwan slipped the question in casually. What on earth did Hyeon-yul think a welcome party was? Jihwan was genuinely curious.

“I'm more concerned about it than nervous.”

Hyeon-yul was still surprised by his own impulsive behavior. Why had he said something like that in the first place? Had he blurted it out without thinking because the others were forever talking about his welcome party?

—You really said that? Wow! That's wonderful! Absolutely wonderful!

When Jeongmin heard what Hyeon-yul had said, he had been so delighted that he looked ready to leap into the air. Was this truly such a good thing? Why was everyone so pleased?

“Hyeon-yul, you can just sit there and relax. We'll take care of everything.”

Shinwoo grinned, and Hyeon-yul narrowed his eyes. There was not a shred of reassurance in those words. Telling someone to do nothing usually turned out to be a lie.

“Baek Shinwoo, look at Hyeon-yul's eyes. How untrustworthy must you act on a regular basis for him to look at you like that?”

Nayun took the opportunity to scold Shinwoo.

“What are you talking about? How am I untrustworthy?”

“Are you absolutely certain I can just sit there and do nothing?”

Hyeon-yul asked again, just in case.

“Of course. Absolutely.”

Shinwoo answered readily. Now that he had confirmed it a second time, Hyeon-yul finally nodded. Surely Shinwoo would not lie about that much.

Jihwan glanced at Hyeon-yul before speaking quietly to Shinwoo.

“Hyung, even if we're planning a quiet welcome party, isn't it a bad idea to make such an absolute promise?”

‘A quiet welcome party...?’

Hyeon-yul wondered what that was supposed to mean.

“I've got everything figured out. You'll see later, Hyeon-yul.”

Shinwoo rose from his seat, and Hyeon-yul's gaze naturally shifted to Haeryeon.

“Hyeon-yul and Nayun, you two can work together today.”

Haeryeon immediately changed the subject. It was painfully obvious what she was doing, but Hyeon-yul steeled himself all the same. He had read more than enough books about welcome parties.

‘I'm prepared too.’

* * *

「*Incident Report: Beginning

—At approximately 12:23 a.m., a truck driver passing along the expressway became suspicious upon seeing a row of vehicles completely stopped and reported the situation to the police.

*Incident Progress

—Police officers were dispatched and assessed the situation.—They discovered explosives attached to the road.—While the police were attempting to defuse the explosives, they apprehended an ability user who was later identified as a villain.—The case was transferred to the Black Eagles.

*Precautions

—Do not allow the explosives to detonate.—Protect the expressway.」

An explosion on the expressway at this hour of the night would have been disastrous. Nayun imagined what might have happened if the bombs had gone undiscovered until morning and spoke up.

“Are these people completely insane? If nobody had found those things until morning, who knows how many people would've died? Planting bombs on a road is just cheating. Don't you agree, Hyeon-yul?”

<Yes.>

“Hyeon-yul, you really aren't nervous about the welcome party, are you? Your answers seem even shorter than usual.”

From their position on a mountain overlooking the expressway, Nayun turned toward Hyeon-yul while wearing her night-vision goggles. His helmet concealed his expression.

<I'm not nervous.>

The message appeared in front of her. For some reason, she could picture the expression he must have been making, and it amused her.

“Then that's fine. Everyone's just excited, so don't read too much into it. It's been quite a while since we held a welcome party.”

<How long has it been?>

“Hmm... Let me think.”

Nayun fell silent for a moment, and the face of someone she missed flashed through her mind.

“A year...? Yes, it's been a year.”

A quiet smile settled on her lips.

<Do the Black Eagles deliberately avoid recruiting people?>

Nayun laughed softly at the question.

“No. We recruit people, but most get filtered out. Some of those who make it through die during their probationary period. Surviving here isn't easy. I've already seen five new recruits die.”

The number alone explained why probationary recruits were not sent on missions by themselves. Hyeon-yul was simply an exceptional case, and a remarkable one at that.

“I don't want there to be a sixth, so do your best.”

<I don't want to be the sixth either. And I have no intention of becoming one.>

“That's the attitude you need. It gives the rest of us strength too. Hyeon-yul, you need to understand how remarkable and precious you are to us.”

<...>

When no proper reply came back, Nayun chuckled. Hyeon-yul was particularly bad at handling this sort of conversation. Then something occurred to her.

“Ah, by the way, Hyeon-yul.”

<Yes.>

“Are you close with the bomb disposal team?”

A man who had introduced himself as Pyo Yujin had run toward Hyeon-yul in delight the instant he recognized him. The rest of the bomb disposal team had reacted the same way. Nayun found the whole thing rather alarming. Once a newcomer proved capable, people from every direction came running, eager to get their hands on him.

<I've met them twice, counting today.>

“Then the next time will be the third?”

<Yes.>

“That's exactly how you should think of it. Nothing more than that, understood?”

<Understood.>

Nayun was still reading Hyeon-yul's reply when she suddenly turned her head. Something was moving in the darkness. Without hesitation, she pulled the trigger, aiming for its legs.

Bang!

As the gunshot echoed through the night, Nayun spoke calmly.

“It's an ambush.”

<Yes.>

After that short reply, Nayun looked for Hyeon-yul, but he was no longer standing where he had been. He had seen everything even before she warned him of the attack. Night had fallen, and the darkness told him everything he needed to know.

Pop.

A tiny light flared in the sky and disappeared. It was the signal flare Nayun had fired. Hyeon-yul moved with her presence in mind. Her eyes were exceptionally sharp, and there was little point in making reckless movements where she could see everything.

The villains had one target: the bomb disposal team. As specialists in explosives, its members were relatively weak when it came to fighting. The assignment had been described as providing support, but in practice, Hyeon-yul and Nayun were acting as bodyguards.

Hyeon-yul turned sharply toward the movement on his left.

Whoosh.

A rush of air sounded, and a hole appeared in the head of an approaching enemy. Hyeon-yul turned at the sight.

‘Fast.’

Guns had once been supreme weapons with overwhelming power, but the emergence of ability users had reduced their importance. Besides, the Empire prohibited private gun ownership, so civilians could only obtain firearms through illegal channels. With Nayun, however, the situation was different. The Black Eagles had developed their own firearm technology, and even if the guns were unlike conventional weapons, advanced technology was only useful when the person wielding it knew what they were doing.

Hyeon-yul smiled faintly. Nayun was taking care of the troublesome enemies almost as naturally as if she were one of his own hands. He advanced and thrust out his dagger.

Clang!

Something struck the blade, making its tip tremble violently. A sharp tingle ran all the way through his fingers, and Hyeon-yul immediately turned toward the source.

‘Psychokinesis.’

It was an invisible and deeply irritating power. Debris around him began floating into the air.

“Stay where you are.”

Hyeon-yul warned the bomb disposal team and wrapped his dagger in black energy. Getting rid of the flying debris was simple. All he needed to do was kill the person controlling it.

One moment he was stepping forward; the next, he was standing directly before the ability user. Panic filled the man's eyes. Hyeon-yul swept his dagger out to the side in one broad arc, drawing a long streak of dense darkness through the air. As the man's severed head fell, the suspended debris crashed to the ground.

Hyeon-yul drove his dagger backward without even looking.

“...Ghk.”

The blade pierced flesh, drawing a pained groan from the attacker behind him.

“I can smell you.”

No matter how quietly they crept up, the overpowering smell of blood brushed against Hyeon-yul's nose. He turned and seized the enemy by the throat.

“But I don't smell any explosives.”

Anyone who had planted the bombs should have carried traces of that smell. These attackers had none, making it likely that they were villains unrelated to the original bombing.

“Who are you people?”

“...Fuck off.”

Blood streamed from the man's abdomen, but he still found the strength to curse.

“I see. You must realize I only need one of you alive to talk.”

Hyeon-yul drove the dagger through his neck and drew it sideways. Why had these people come here? As the villain pitched forward headfirst, Hyeon-yul looked around and counted his enemies.

Three remained. He leaned backward, and a heavy blunt weapon swept past his face. His body melted into smoke, then reappeared behind the attacker.

‘Two left.’

His dagger punched through the man's neck and emerged from the other side.

‘There's no lingering smell of old gunpowder.’

He could smell explosives on the remaining enemies, but it was different from the smell of the bombs planted on the expressway. That meant they had brought their own explosives.

‘What do they gain by making this incident even bigger?’

Escalating the situation would only bring more Black Eagles to the scene. Was that exactly what they wanted?

‘...How childish.’

It seemed they were trying to rely on the Black Eagles to crush an opponent they could not defeat themselves. It might look efficient, but it was a terrible plan. The longer they kept it up, the more likely they were to be caught.

Thud!

One villain collapsed. Hyeon-yul knocked the final attacker unconscious instead of killing him.

‘I'll leave it to the Black Eagles to find out what game they're playing.’

He knew that villains paid careful attention to their clothing and other details to conceal where they came from and what organizations they belonged to. But there was one thing they could not control completely: their radio communications.

Using his darkness, Hyeon-yul searched the dead men's bodies and recovered a radio. Before switching it on, he listened carefully. The moment a signal pulsed through the air, the darkness caught the sound, spread far and wide, and finally stopped at a particular location.

Hyeon-yul turned his head. Every shadow had become one of his eyes, and far away, much farther than an ordinary person could see, he spotted someone speaking into a radio.

‘Found you.’

Hyeon-yul left a piece of his darkness at that location. The best time to strike was when the enemy had lowered their guard, so he decided to make his move tomorrow.

* * *

“...All right, Hyeon-yul. Put these on for now.”

Nayun handed him something, and Hyeon-yul blinked at the object in her hand. It was a pair of round novelty glasses with a fake mustache attached. He looked around the room. They seemed to have rented the entire establishment, because no one else was inside. He had no idea where they had found the enormous throne-like chair, but he was currently seated in it.

—Just sit here. Sit right here and don't move.

Shinwoo had pointed to the chair with almost uncontrollable excitement. Hyeon-yul had obeyed, but he could not understand why they wanted him to wear these glasses. After a moment's thought, he reached out and took them. He could feel everyone watching him. When he briefly raised his head and looked around, they all turned away and pretended not to have been staring.

‘This isn't like the books...’

Hyeon-yul put on the glasses, and laughter erupted all around him. For a moment, he wondered whether they were mocking him. Then everyone else put on similar glasses and scampered over to his chair.

‘?’

Hyeon-yul blinked, unable to understand what they were doing.

Click.

“...!”

He jolted in surprise. They had suddenly taken a photograph.

“Come on, Hyeon-yul. You have to smile.”

Nayun gently lifted the corners of his mouth.

“Why... are you taking pictures?”

“Because we don't want regrets. If we leave behind photographs worth remembering, the people who come after us will have something to give them the strength to carry on.”

Nayun smiled as she spoke. Everyone else nodded in agreement, but Hyeon-yul found it difficult to understand.

“One more! Here we go!”

Jihwan shouted, his voice ringing with delight.

Click.

Hyeon-yul remained motionless while the others moved left, then right, flashed V-signs with their fingers, and struck a succession of peculiar poses. He was so shocked by everything happening around him that his mind almost stopped working.

‘...What are they doing?’

No one had demanded anything of him, yet he felt an odd and growing pressure. He could not even identify exactly what it was. They seemed to have spent more than twenty minutes taking pictures.

‘This... is a welcome party?’

“Great! We've taken enough photos for now, so how about we start by singing our hearts out?”

Shinwoo called out at the top of his lungs and passed Hyeon-yul a tambourine. Still in a daze, Hyeon-yul accepted it.

“Shake it if you feel like it. If you don't, you don't have to. No pressure.”

What an insane level of consideration. Shinwoo grinned as though he were immensely proud of himself.

“...Aren't we supposed to eat first?”

Hyeon-yul asked, still unsure what was going on.

“We play first, then eat. The team leader rented the place for us, so it'd be a waste not to use it.”

“Exactly. It would be a waste.”

Haeryeon was already holding a microphone.

“That's way too fast!”

Jihwan cried out in alarm, although somehow a microphone had already found its way into his own hand.

“Jihwan! You're even faster!”

Nayun shouted in despair. Someone else had beaten her to the first song.

“Ah, wait.”

Nayun suddenly turned and looked directly at Hyeon-yul.

“Do you want to sing? If you do, Hyeon-yul, we'll all give up the privilege of singing first and let you have it.”

The others all nodded vigorously in agreement.

“...No, thank you.”

“Oh, and Hyeon-yul.”

Nayun had something else to tell him.

“...Yes?”

“If you don't like a song, press this.”

She handed him a controller and pointed at one of the buttons.

“Press it and the song will stop, even if someone's in the middle of singing. We're giving it to you especially, Hyeon-yul. It's an incredible amount of power, you know.”

Hyeon-yul's eyes widened. They were telling him he could push it whenever he disliked a song. How could that possibly be acceptable?

“Ah, right! And if you want to say something while we're singing, shake the tambourine three times. We'll stop immediately and listen to you. You're the guest of honor today, Hyeon-yul!”

Nayun stretched both hands toward him and waved them with sparkling enthusiasm. Even the pitch of her voice was different, as if she normally restrained herself a great deal. It was terrifying.

“That's right. Today's supposed to be a quiet welcome party for Hyeon-yul. You don't have to dance, and you don't have to sing if you don't want to. You don't even have to pose for photos. We've left out everything you might dislike.”

Haeryeon considered the arrangement the very height of thoughtfulness, although one thing still bothered her.

“Still, isn't the tambourine a bit much? Wouldn't it be better if he waved this carrot-shaped baton instead?”

She held out a carrot-shaped cheering baton that she had prepared for precisely this situation.

“...As expected, none of us can compete with the team leader when it comes to consideration.”

Shinwoo quietly gave her a thumbs-up.

“The carrot baton really does stand out more. It's quieter too.”

Jihwan agreed at once, clapping his hands in approval.

‘What's the difference between the two?’

Of everyone in the room, only Hyeon-yul remained thoroughly confused.

“Anyway, Hyeon-yul, would you like to sing first?”

Haeryeon asked with considerable caution. The question alone filled him with overwhelming pressure. He felt as though she were telling him that he absolutely had to sing.

“...I'm fine, thank you.”

“Okay! Shake this if you need anything. We'll turn off the music immediately and listen to every word you say.”

After handing Hyeon-yul the carrot baton, Haeryeon picked up the microphone and strode confidently to the center of the room.

‘...’

Hyeon-yul stared down at the carrot baton in his hand.

‘Is this... bullying?’

He had thought the bullying was finally over, but apparently he had been mistaken. This was an entirely new kind of torment. How was he supposed to respond? He did not understand much about his present situation, but one thing was absolutely clear.

‘...I want to go home.’