Savior Proto-Call Chapter 8

Chapter 8. No Longer Human (8)

Yoon Doha tried to bring her slightly blurred vision back into focus, but it wasn't easy.

If anything, the nausea churning in her stomach only grew worse.

Perhaps it was simply exhaustion.

She had stayed awake all night working a side job until dawn the previous day, so she figured that might be the cause.

With that thought, she covered both eyes with her palms and pressed down firmly.

Countless tiny black and white spots flickered across her vision.

Then, gradually, everything brightened, as though she were staring at the sun at the end of a tunnel.

And at the end of that light, Eun Narin was standing as calmly as ever.

Her instructor was casually gathering the scattered documents and arranging them into a somewhat orderly pile on the lectern.

Suddenly, Yoon Doha's pitch-black pupils trembled with unease, as though she'd sensed something strange.

An alien sensation crept along her spine.

She instinctively leaned her upper body backward.

The muscles at the back of her neck stiffened, and a cold chill spread through her as though someone had injected chilled saline into her veins.

Wait.

I'm sitting upright.

Yoon Doha was clearly holding her head up, her back straight and her posture proper.

But that wasn't the last position she remembered being in.

She distinctly recalled resting her chin on her hand while her head hung so low that her gaze pointed almost vertically toward the floor.

I definitely don't remember lifting my head.

Did I doze off for a moment?

Or did my exhausted body finally lose consciousness?

Unable to trust her own memories, Yoon Doha pressed a hand against her still-throbbing forehead and frowned.

The dreadful pain, as though the flesh and nerves inside her skull were being hacked apart, hadn't subsided.

Given that, the only explanations she could think of were exhaustion or a momentary lapse in consciousness.

Sleep deprivation could seriously impair a person's perception.

Even when she looked around through her aching eyes, the morning remained perfectly peaceful.

Nothing appeared unusual.

Aside from the fact that she was suddenly in excruciating pain, everything was exactly as it should have been.

It was almost as though the problem existed solely within her own body.

Yoon Doha desperately hoped the announcements would end soon so she could return to the dormitory and get some proper rest.

She didn't know how much longer she could endure in this condition.

But for now, all she could do was try her best.

"Ahem."

Eun Narin surveyed the trainees before her.

A peculiar interest flickered in her blood-red eyes.

There was an irresponsible sort of delight in her expression, as though she were standing one step removed from the situation, merely observing whatever unfolded.

She raised the corners of her mouth into a sly grin and lightly tapped the surface of the lectern with the back of her hand.

The sound broke the silence.

Everyone immediately turned toward her.

"From the moment you enter the Salvation Academy, each of you is assigned a provisional registration number. What do you get assigned?"

"...A provisional registration number."

Yoon Doha repeated the answer as instructed.

However, the unpleasant migraine splitting through her head made her unusually sensitive to every sound.

The whites of her eyes, normally clear apart from the occasional bruising, had become heavily bloodshot.

Red veins spread across them like streams carving their way through pale ground.

Her bloodshot gaze settled on the small metal necklace Eun Narin was rummaging through her combat uniform pocket to retrieve.

Two thin rectangular plates with rounded corners hung from the chain, separated by a small gap.

"That's right. A provisional registration number. And this is a necklace with little metal plates engraved with that number and your personal information."

She held it up.

"These are your identification tags. From now on, you need to carry them around as though your lives depend on them."

She paused.

"Those of you who've served in the military probably know what these are already, but everyone here is a minor anyway... Ah! Except... you over there. Candidate An... Yuha?"

Eun Narin casually wrapped the identification-tag chain around her finger and pointed toward someone.

The person at whom she was pointing was the woman who had been reading the guidebook the entire time.

Her relatively short black hair was neatly tied back.

Not even a single stray strand escaped, giving her an almost obsessively meticulous appearance.

Her excessively straight posture suggested the rigid principles of someone who had spent a long time living under strict regulations.

Dan Ryuha, whom Eun Narin had just called An Yuha, drew her eyebrows together slightly before answering calmly.

She didn't sound offended.

"My name is Dan Ryuha."

"Right, right. An Ryuha."

"Dan. Ryuha."

"Uh-huh. Dan Ryuha."

...Her name is that distinctive, and you already forgot it?

You literally just took attendance.

Yoon Doha couldn't hide her bewilderment at Eun Narin's astonishingly terrible memory.

It was almost impressive enough to put a goldfish to shame.

She even forgot about rubbing her aching eyes as she stared at the instructor.

Despite having repeatedly mistaken someone else's name, Eun Narin showed no sign of embarrassment or apology.

Instead, she approached Dan Ryuha.

At the sudden proximity, Dan Ryuha's upper body tilted almost imperceptibly in the opposite direction.

She looked like someone who disliked physical contact.

Eun Narin abruptly thrust the necklace toward her face.

The identification tags hanging from the chain swung back and forth, almost mockingly.

"Cadet Dan Ryuha. You're from the Air Force Academy, right? Then these must be familiar. Or maybe you're sick of seeing them?"

Eun Narin grinned.

"You finally escape the military, only to end up right back in it. And the benefits here are fucking terrible, too."

"Yes. I'm familiar with them."

"Nice, clean way of speaking. See? People who've already spent time in the military really are different. You'll probably adapt quickly."

She continued casually.

"Everyone commissioned into the Salvation Agency is a bunch of stubborn old fossils anyway..."

Her words were so biting that they were practically insults.

It was difficult to tell whether Eun Narin was having a conversation or simply muttering to herself.

Her voice drifted along in an oddly detached tone.

She lightly patted Dan Ryuha's shoulder a couple of times before returning to the lectern.

Then she leaned crookedly against the desk, propping her left elbow on its surface.

Looking thoroughly bored, she began swinging the identification tags back and forth like a hypnotist.

Yoon Doha's pupils unconsciously followed the pendulum-like movement of the metal necklace.

"Anyway, starting now, your job is to go find one of these."

...What?

"The permitted search area is the first through fifth floors of this building. As long as an area isn't secured with a locking mechanism, you're allowed to enter it without exception."

Eun Narin gave the necklace another little swing.

"Once you've found yours, come to the first-floor lobby. I'll be there to verify it."

...Find what?

And bring it where?

Yoon Doha already knew that the Salvation Academy's training programs were often bizarre and far outside the bounds of common sense.

According to the darker rumors circulating behind the scenes, some of those programs were downright inhumane and unethical.

Considering the way society treated ability users like filth, that much wasn't particularly surprising.

But she'd never imagined they'd be ordered to run around searching for something like dogs being made to perform pointless tricks.

And this wasn't even a simple search confined to one room.

They were being told to conduct a treasure hunt across several floors of an entire building.

Naturally, the trainees were dumbfounded.

Yoon Doha's mouth hung slightly open in disbelief.

The other trainees wore similar expressions.

Every one of them seemed to be questioning the absurdity of the order.

Nam Hohyeon, who appeared to be the most energetic member of Class 4, widened his eyes and abruptly straightened his previously slouched upper body.

His naturally gentle eyes opened wide in bewilderment.

"Huh? What are we supposed to find?"

"This. This little piece of titanium."

"Come on, you're joking, right? A treasure hunt on our very first day?"

Nam Hohyeon clearly wanted to understand the reasoning behind the command.

But Eun Narin merely raised an eyebrow and stared at him without answering.

There was something almost pitying in her prolonged gaze.

It seemed to ask:

Well? Does it look like I'm joking?

Unable to hide his confusion, Nam Hohyeon eventually gave up asking further questions.

Eun Narin, meanwhile, appeared to have no intention of entertaining any of the trainees' reactions.

Without hesitation, she turned and headed toward the front door.

Apparently, she really did intend to leave them with this ridiculous assignment.

Numerous gazes followed her back.

She ignored every single one.

Her unwavering footsteps were almost shameless.

Around the classroom, several trainees let out groans filled with annoyance and resignation.

The sounds reverberated through the room like the low rumble of exhaust pipes.

After stepping into the corridor, Eun Narin poked only her head back through the doorway.

She waved cheerfully.

Her expression suggested that whatever difficulties the trainees might face had absolutely nothing to do with her.

"Oh, and one more thing!"

She smiled brightly.

"Since this is a special test commemorating your enrollment, you won't be allowed to check into the dormitories, eat dinner, or engage in any other personal activities until you've found your tags."

Then she gave one final wave.

"Well, good luck, everyone!"

BANG!

The door slammed shut behind her.

As the reverberation faded, the peculiar, oppressive silence created by the protective door settled over the classroom once more.

Amid the increasingly restless trainees, Yoon Doha stared blankly at the closed alloy door.

Would it kill you to just hand them over normally?

The ridiculous test, piled on top of her existing exhaustion, scraped mercilessly against her already frayed nerves.

Irrational anger seeped through the cracks in her fragmented thoughts.

Even so, she gathered it all together and buried it in a corner of her heart.

The brief silence was broken by Hyun Noa.

She had been listening to Eun Narin's explanation rather halfheartedly, with only one earphone removed.

Now she pushed her chair back with a long, grating squeak and stood.

The eyes visible beneath her long black hair repeatedly narrowed, as though she'd just encountered an exceptionally troublesome problem.

She let out one deep sigh after another.

Then, gathering her bag, she headed toward the back door.

Apparently, she had concluded that there was no point searching for a thin piece of metal inside a classroom containing nothing but desks and chairs.

"Haaah... What even is this? How are we supposed to find something that small in a building this huge...?"

With the visibly irritated Hyun Noa taking the lead, the others gradually began getting up as well.

Most of them already looked exhausted before the search had even begun.

Nam Hohyeon, who had been sitting ahead of Doha, grabbed Choi Rohan by the shoulders and began shaking him while whining.

His overly gentle facial features somehow made his complaints even more irritating.

Choi Rohan, who had suddenly found himself being shaken by the shoulders, adjusted his glasses after they slipped crookedly across his face.

He frowned deeply.

Although he looked thoroughly annoyed, the way he handled Hohyeon's hands was surprisingly considerate.

"Seriously, what the hell is this on our first day? Rohan! I'm fucking terrible at treasure hunts! And I didn't even eat breakfast, so I'm starving! What am I supposed to do?!"

Choi Rohan stared emotionlessly at Nam Hohyeon, who was clutching his head and groaning dramatically.

Despite his youthful appearance, Rohan carried himself with an unusually mature air.

Dark circles shadowed his eyes, which narrowed with exhaustion.

He answered matter-of-factly.

"Hohyeon-hyung, if we spend enough time looking, we'll eventually find it."

He paused.

"I think we'd be better off searching instead of wasting time here."

Then he added politely,

"I'll go ahead. Good luck."

Choi Rohan casually swept the bangs hanging near his eyes upward and turned away.

He headed toward the back door, following Hyun Noa, who had already left.

Nam Hohyeon stared after his retreating back with wide eyes.

Like the tragic heroine of a melodrama abandoned by her beloved, he let out a desperate cry.

His attempts to look pitiful were almost offensively shameless.

"You're not abandoning me, are you?! ROHAN!"

Yoon Doha's head was already pounding.

Hearing that shrill cry on top of everything else made her irritation surge.

A knotted ache struck the back of her head, right where her skull connected to her neck.

Still, she wasn't so socially inept that she'd lash out at someone she'd only just met.

Instead, she ignored the commotion before her, quickly shouldered her bag, and stood.

She intended to leave the classroom without hesitation.

But just then, her gaze unexpectedly met a pair of green eyes.

They possessed a freshness reminiscent of looking at a leaf covered in morning dew through a clear droplet of water.

Unfortunately, their owner didn't seem to possess confidence equal to their vivid color.

Min Yul wore an expression of helpless uncertainty.

He hovered awkwardly over his chair, unable to decide whether to stand or remain seated.

His posture was half-raised, half-seated, as though he couldn't find a place where he belonged.

There was something almost pleading about his anxious movements.

He looked like someone who already knew there was nowhere in the world reserved for him.

It was a sight that tugged at Doha's attention more than she would have liked.

But the weight of her own life, wrapped tightly around her ankles, prevented her from stopping.

There's no reason to make enemies.

But that doesn't mean I have to go out of my way to become friends with anyone, either.

Yoon Doha watched Min Yul's awkward hesitation with a somewhat detached expression.

Then she turned away.

As she headed toward the classroom's back door, she casually swept her gaze across the room one last time.

Everyone was gradually standing and leaving with expressions of resignation.

Everyone except one person.

The woman wearing the white cap remained seated, stretching lazily.

Cha Minseol, was it?

For some reason, she seemed faintly familiar.

It was almost as though they'd met somewhere before.

But Doha was certain she didn't actually know her.

She dismissed the feeling as a case of mistaken recognition caused by accumulated exhaustion and turned away completely.

The corridor had quickly become quiet as the trainees dispersed.

Occasionally, muffled sounds from the world beyond the windows echoed through the otherwise empty space.

Yoon Doha had expected at least some semblance of a systematic education.

Instead, she now wore an expression of utter disillusionment.

She irritably shook out her hair.

And with every dragging step she took across the epoxy-coated corridor, the unpleasant scraping of her shoe soles filled the hallway.