So That's What It Was
"So that's what it was."
"Professor...? You were on the same team as my mom and dad...? You...?"
"Yes. I understand if you find it hard to believe, but it's the truth."
"Uh... uh... I'm just... a little flustered..."
Han Min-ha's eyes darted around in confusion as she stammered, clearly struggling to process the situation.
"I worked with them around the time you were entering middle school. Your father was my senior at the academy, and your mother was my classmate."
"Really...?"
When Han Min-ha still looked unconvinced, I pulled out my phone.
"Here. I have photos of your parents and my student records. Take a look."
Seeing the childhood photos of her parents, Han Min-ha's eyes welled up, and thick tears began to spill down her cheeks in an instant.
"Hic... hic..."
She sobbed quietly, her tears splattering onto the phone screen. I sat in silence, watching her cry. It was a pitiful, heartbreaking sight, but the emotion didn't reach me deeply. The Mental Barrier was simply too solid. That technique might be effective, but it had the side effect of turning its user into something close to a psychopath. Not that it was flawless, either. It had wavered more than once already. Especially in the archives, where it shook so violently that I lost consciousness and collapsed.
The Mental Barrier had only faltered in connection with Han Min-ha's parents. The first time was when I first heard their names from her, and the second was when I read their student records. After the initial crack, I'd started having strange recurring dreams, and the second time, I had outright seen visions of the past. If I could just disable the Mental Barrier entirely, maybe I could uncover new information. But ironically, I couldn't remove it at will. It was like a passive skill that ran constantly, yet the caster—me—had no way to turn it off. What kind of absurd technique was this?
While I was lost in thought, Han Min-ha's sobs subsided, and she let out a trembling sigh.
"Haa..."
"Here's some tissue."
I slid the box of tissues across the round table. Han Min-ha grabbed a handful and wiped her tears along with the bit of snot that had escaped. It was the first time I'd seen her without her glasses, and I was surprised by how pretty she looked. The high prescription must have been making her eyes appear smaller.
"You can blow your nose."
"Okay..."
Han Min-ha covered her nose and blew several times with a wet honk, then crumpled the tissue and tried to stuff it into her pocket.
"The trash can's over there."
"Right..."
After tossing the tissue, she sat back down, adjusted her glasses, and reopened the phone.
"Professor... the fingerprint lock..."
"Here."
Once I unlocked it, Han Min-ha blinked a few times before slowly swiping through the photos, as if trying to etch every detail into her memory. After studying the records for a long while, she handed the phone back.
"Do you believe me now? Of course, this isn't definitive proof, but there's no other way to verify it. There are no public records of their hero activities."
"I believe you."
Han Min-ha nodded in understanding.
"But... Professor. Do you know what happened to my parents...?"
"I'm sorry. I don't know that much either."
"Ah... I see..."
I was curious too, but there was no way to find out right now. Secreto's activity logs were probably stored somewhere deep in the Management Bureau—places an ordinary associate professor like me could never access.
"Min-ha. Secreto is an organization that moves to protect the world's safety and maintain peace. Your parents were heroes who operated within it."
I spoke slowly.
"Secreto selects graduates who possess the judgment and mental fortitude to handle dangerous missions. In other words, its heroes are far more exceptional than ordinary ones. You inherited your talent from parents like that. Your poor grades aren't because you lack innate ability."
"Yes..."
"Their disappearance... I'm sorry. But it must have happened while they were upholding a noble sense of justice. Because that's what Secreto is. Only heroes with that kind of resolve are allowed to join. You need to understand that your parents were such people."
"I understand..."
"So think about it carefully. What kind of daughter would your parents want to see? One who refuses to become a hero because of their unfortunate fate, or one who proudly becomes a hero and carries on their talent and will?"
Han Min-ha pressed her lips together and nodded.
Whether this would allow her to overcome the trauma of her parents' disappearance and finally control her aura, I didn't know. As her advisor, all I could do was lead her to the water. Drinking it was up to her own ability and determination. But she would drink. There was nothing left for her in the desert if she went back.
"I've said all I needed to. If you have anything to say, go ahead."
"No... I don't. I think I need some time to think..."
"Alright. Drink your coffee."
We finished our coffee in silence after that.
"Then, Professor... I'll be going. It's time for physical training..."
After draining her cup, Han Min-ha stood up awkwardly.
"Take care. I'll post the next meeting schedule in the group chat."
"Understood."
Han Min-ha rushed back to the dorm and changed into her gym clothes. She'd spent more time than expected, and physical training was cutting it close. Being late meant demerits, and she'd already promised to move with Yoo Hee-won. Though the professor's revelation had been shocking, she had no time to sit and process it—not when she'd already decided to stay at the academy.
When she'd told Assistant Bae Ye-bin at lunch that she wanted to train with the upper-class students, the assistant had been pleased but also worried. She was happy that Han Min-ha, who had been struggling to adapt, had made friends—even upper-class ones—but concerned whether she could truly fit in. Still, Bae Ye-bin knew Han Min-ha possessed strong aura yet couldn't manifest it properly. If training with the stronger students could spark some change, then perhaps it was worth allowing.
Group physical training for freshmen was held on the parade ground with all students gathered. Instructors dispatched from the Maroon Berets, the special forces unit specializing in hero rescues, conducted these sessions, which were infamous for their brutal intensity. Though such mass drills were an outdated, crude method typically used in the military, the academy stubbornly applied them to freshmen—to foster unity and quickly weed out the weak.
"Why are you so late?"
Yoo Hee-won, already on the field, snapped irritably.
"Sorry... I got held up a bit...?"
"Whatever. Stand here."
Han Min-ha hurried to line up behind Yoo Hee-won and her followers.
"Hi, Min-ha."
Amid the awkward greetings from the followers, Song Do-yun stared at Han Min-ha with her cold eyes. The gaze was so burdensome that Han Min-ha dropped her own to the ground.
With the whistle signaling the start of training, stretching began. After stretching came a 10km run, followed by circuit-style conditioning by course.
"Don't fall behind. It's embarrassing."
Just before the run started, Yoo Hee-won turned and warned her.
"Mm..."
Yoo Hee-won's upper-class group was at the very front, and Han Min-ha felt like she might throw up from the tension. But before she could do anything, the lead instructor blew the whistle, and the students surged forward as one.
She'd probably covered about half the distance when Han Min-ha felt she couldn't run anymore. Even finishing the full course was usually a struggle, and the pace of the lead group was beyond imagination. Up ahead, Yoo Hee-won and her followers ran without a single ragged breath. Not a single drop of sweat trickled down Yoo Hee-won's neck, exposed by her tightly tied long hair. Her stamina was beyond common sense...
Someone like me could never keep up...
The moment the thought crossed her mind, Han Min-ha's speed visibly dropped. Other students overtook her as she fell further behind. Then someone slammed into her shoulder, and she tumbled to the side.
Maybe... I can't run anymore today...
I'll tell Hee-won and start from the back tomorrow...
"What are you doing?"
Yoo Hee-won had somehow fallen back and was now looking down at her with utter disdain.
"Didn't I tell you not to fall behind because it'd embarrass me?"
"Hee... Hee-won... I can't run anymore..."
"Stop talking nonsense and get up!"
Yoo Hee-won grabbed Han Min-ha by the scruff of her neck with tremendous strength and hauled her to her feet.
"Run."
"I can't... I'll start tomorrow..."
"And the day after? And the day after that?"
"For now... I need to build up my stamina first..."
"That's why you're running in the first place!"
Yoo Hee-won scowled and snapped.
"Does anyone start out perfect? No one here does—except me! Shut up with the excuses and run!"
"Ah, seriously..."
"If you can't get over it once, you'll never get over it! Run like you're going to die today, you idiot! Only then can you clear it tomorrow!"
Yoo Hee-won seized Han Min-ha by the collar and began dragging her forward.