CHAPTER 72: I’LL KEEP HIM.

"Why are you asking? Like... to grant a prisoner’s last wish, or... for something else?"

When Taras turned his head toward the window, ignoring Maxim’s question, it only made Maxim even angrier. Next week, it was the time for the revolution they had been planning for years.

And Taras, disappearing for days, becoming more and more incomprehensible, was not a good sign.

"Listen, man," Maxim called out in a heavy voice.

"You never answer to anyone, I know that. That’s nothing new. But you can’t just vanish for days and then... walk around like your mind is stuck on just one thing. Got it?"

Taras seemed almost stubborn in his refusal to look at him. Maxim gave a bitter, angry laugh.

"You’ve been gone for five days. Did something happen? Where were you? Has your rut started... People kept asking about you. About their leaders."

Since the day they listened to that recording, Maxim didn’t like the expression in Taras’s eyes. That expression... And when it came to Treasure, the hesitation that broke through his shell... Those were pulling Taras away from who he was. So what he was turning into then? Maxim needed answers.

At last, Taras answered, his tone as if he were granting a favor.

"I’m fine. And I wasn’t here because I needed more evidence on someone."

"Who?" Maxim asked directly. "We already have enough evidence to bring them down."

"The bastard who’s the head of GAC," Taras muttered. Maxim’s face twisted as Taras finally turned toward him, staring with a chilling expression.

"The cherry on top couldn’t be missing, right?"

His eyes looked... almost unhinged. Maxim stepped toward him. His steps were steady, but slow, unsure if he understood Taras correctly.

"This... is it about that recording? We’ve never even bothered to look for evidence against that man until now, Tar."

As Taras looked at him, his gaze suddenly drifted, as if plundering through the past at a frantic speed. His lips parted. Yes or no was still hard to say. But as he wrestled with the image of Treasure’s blood spilling, like a curtain pulled down before his eyes, he now knew exactly what he wanted to do. "Listen carefully Maxim, cause I won’t repeat myself,"

"We’ll keep Treasure out of this. We won’t let the media find out that piece of paper carries his DNA too," Taras said with firm certainty. "When we sway the public to our side, we’ll say he helped us bring the truth to light."

Maxim stared at him, mouth hanging open.

Then, slowly, all of Taras’s strange expressions seemed to make sense to him. So he really is...

"You’re going to save him," Maxim murmured in astonishment.

"Mm." Taras confirmed, averting his eyes.

"Then... you’ve given up on revenge?"

Taras’s body went rigid at the word. It had been days since that thought had even crossed his mind. Maxim placed a hand on his shoulder. "Tar."

As Taras turned his head, he already knew what the final question would be.

"Do you... like him?"

Taras faltered at the words, his expression stumbling.

For the first time, instead of sudden anger, Maxim saw helplessness in his eyes. Taras stood defenseless, stripped of his guard.

He was now cornered with every image of Le An. Every moment with him, every detail about him.

From the night he had cornered him in his room to tonight he held him in his arms, on his lap.

The recording had made both Taras and Maxim witness an agonizing moment. In that recording was Treasure’s innocence, his proof of being blameless. Le An had never gave Taras’s father’s name to them. It turned out that... Taras’s whole hatred was... baseless.

"I still hate him," Taras said, caught in the storm raging in his mind. Truly, what burned in his chest was still hatred, searing and merciless. Or was it? He sighed.

"...Do you really still hate him?" Maxim pressed.

Now, in the same heart, there was a fire that blazed even hotter whenever Treasure was hurt. Not even a nosebleed—Taras couldn’t bear the thought of a single hair on him being harmed.

"I’ll keep him by my side," Taras said, looking at Maxim. "I’ll keep him." He repeated with a kind of frustration.

As if, if he didn’t hold him tightly and let him wither just a little longer, Le An might vanish any day.

"You want to keep him cause you like him?"

Maxim tried once more.

But Taras just repeated, as if obsessed with the idea. "I’ll keep him."

Maxim had his answer anyway. He turned his head, knowing there was no point in pushing further. "Got it. I’m... kind of relieved, I must say..."

Silence took over for a while. As if both needed a moment to stop and let all that sink in. Maxim, feeling stuffy, opened his mouth after a while.

"I... couldn’t reach you, so I called Treasure from that woman’s line, by the way," He murmured.

Taras fixed irritated eyes on him.

"And?"

"And..." Maxim leaned back against the top of the chair. "He was dead worried about you, Taras. The panic in his voice was clear when he heard you were missing. It was like, haha, like he never hated you at all."

Taras stared at him, almost laughing.

"He didn’t," he said, the angry expression settling back into its usual place. "That’s what drives me crazy. Did he say anything else?"

Still caught up in Taras’s indirect confession, Maxim recalled the moment he had slipped by mentioning the photos. His hand went to the back of his neck. But since Taras had already decided to keep Treasure close... it no longer mattered, did it?

"No," Maxim murmured. "He didn’t say anything else. But he still... seems afraid of you."

"Hah." Taras grumbled with frustration, shrugging his shoulders. "He’ll have to get over it. He’s afraid of even my shadow."

Maxim forced a fake smile. Imagining how someone as cold as Taras might transform when in love made him shiver. And he felt a little sorry for Treasure. He was in big trouble.

"But you’ll have to help him get over it," Maxim murmured with a grin, while scratching his neck. "At least... make sure he’s not afraid of your shadow?"

Taras stared at him blankly. "...Got your answers?" he asked with an impatient tone.

"Hah. Definitely." Maxim had no desire to stay in the same room with this new version of Taras anyway. But he just couldn’t stop.

"I’ll pass on your orders about him to intelligence. But... do you really still hate him?"

"I do," Taras sneered and squeezed his eyes. "Now fuck off."

Maxim, unhinged, approached the door and, he wanted to say one last thing. "Show him that you trust him too, Tar. I feel like he needs t-"

"Get out." Taras turned his back. Maxim sighed and left the room.

Trust? There were no need for that. Treasure trusted him. Whether he trusts Treasure or not... And there was no time anyway.

Keeping him was the only thing that mattered now. "Later," Taras murmured. "Later when I take him out of that damn house."

---

The next morning, when Le An was taken to the laboratory and learned that nothing would be injected into him today, he had felt excited at first. But the feeling didn’t last long.

"Please follow the experiment conditions, Le An," said the last researcher sent to persuade him. "No one will be harmed. Our entire medical team is here, and you’ll be in control."

As Le An opened his mouth to object once more, another took over, cutting him off before he could utter a word.

"We need this in order to clearly observe how you release guiding energy and to understand the conditions that boost it. You’ll give a high current for just three seconds."

"This could kill them," Le An said bitterly, covering his face with his hands. "It’s the same as firing a w-weapon. I’ve never tried this before, please..."

"If you don’t follow conditions, we can’t make progress. And if you don’t cooperate, we’ll have to report it to GAC and Mr. Qui, Le An."

Since they had realized even the mention of Mr. Qui’s name made him go rigid, it had become a weapon in the researchers’ hands. Le An looked helplessly at the people pressing him, then lowered his head. The persuasion continued.

"All these espers volunteered, Le An. Don’t make it personal. Nothing will go wrong."

"If we can observe the effects of a guiding shock, it could be a huge contribution to science!"

Ha... Even though they weren’t sure how much harm he might cause, they still dared to say no one would be hurt.

"For this, we specifically selected S-level esper volunteers. Their systems are much stronger."

Le An raised his head. His shoulders dropped. He stood up in despair.

The researchers sighed in relief. As electrodes were attached to his body and head, Le An glanced at the espers brought into the room.

If anything happened to any of them, he could never forgive himself.

When preparations were finished, Le An stepped forward, opening and closing his fists tightly.

"Only three seconds. And at the highest level you sense the esper’s body can endure, Le An," one of the researchers reminded him.

Le An released a trembling breath and stepped closer to the first esper, standing in front of him.

"Don’t hold back, dear Treasure," the esper grinned.

Le An’s anxious expression wavered with frustration. He took the esper’s hand and closed his eyes.

"S-level. If it were an emergency guiding, or to stop a rampage... He would probably receive the equivalent of level 6 in total."

As Le An voiced his estimation of the esper’s capacity, one of the researchers snapped his fingers, signaling him to continue.

"Then level 6. In one go. Come on, Le An."

Le An lowered his head. Looking into the esper’s eyes with worry, he asked,

"Are you ready?"

The esper’s foolish grin grew wider as he squeezed Le An’s hand.

"Bring it on, Treasure."

Le An regulated enough energy in his body to match level 6. He drew a deep breath and turned to glance one last time at the researchers.

His jaw tightened with stress. He turned back, and just as they wanted, he released all the guiding energy he had gathered into the esper’s body at once.

At that moment, as the excessive energy surged into him, the esper stiffened as if his soul was being ripped from his body... and collapsed to the floor like a sack of flour.

He couldn’t even move his fingertips. Le An stared at him, stunned, as the shock overtook his body and tears welled in his eyes.

"H-he..."

"Step aside, please."

The medical team checked his pupils and pulse. At the same time, his brain activity and the distribution of energy inside his body were being monitored.

"Holy shit..." one of the researchers murmured, eyes glued to the screen. Then he raised his head, staring at Le An as if spellbound.

"This really is a weapon, Le An."

A woman from the medical team muttered while taking notes,

"Temporary paralysis. Unfocused eyes, hearing intact, muscle spasms present but zero capability beyond reflexive movement. And mild erection linked to pleasure response."

The other espers waiting in line laughed as they watched their fellow esper on the ground.

A researcher, covering his mouth with his hand, guided Le An toward the next esper. Le An, still in shock, walked where he was pushed, barely hearing a word.

"If level 6 is the maximum he could withstand, then level 7 would likely cause permanent damage. Level 8? Level 8 would probably burst his organs and rupture his veins."

After Le An repeated the same with the other five espers, he listened to waves of praise, sitting in the vehicle that now carried him home, staring blankly at his own hands.

Theo and Emerald had both asked him about what happened inside, but got little response. Only Tracker, for a very brief moment, had witnessed what Le An had been forced to do. And on Le An’s face, he saw only the expression of a boy breaking away from those around him... and hating himself.

As Le An sat lost in thought in the car, he gazed out the window and muttered without realizing it,

"...At least no one died."

Yes. At least no one had died. And Le An had learned that, whether he wanted it or not, he carried a weapon within himself.

"Le An?"

Theo, watching him mutter to himself, exchanged glances with Emerald and Tracker before calling his name.

"Hm?" Le An turned his head to him with a flinch, his eyes flicking briefly around the car. They had entered the tunnel they always passed on the way home.

But lately, whether day or night, Le An often thought he saw Taras’s shadow. And the tunnel’s darkness was playing tricks on his mind again.

Theo couldn’t bring himself to ask if he was okay again, so his voice faded after just calling his name.

Le An’s gazed at them one by one, then turned silently back to the window.

They shouldn’t be worrying about him. In a few days, when the revolution came and the world shook, none of this would matter. The end would come for everything.

As the vehicle exited the tunnel, the light made Le An squint. He leaned his head against the glass and closed his eyes.