38.
Could there be another chaebol young master with such rough hands despite growing up without hardship? Ryu Ho-yeon sighed habitually as his gaze naturally moved up from Choi Jae-won’s hands.
On his wrist was a simple digital watch—a mandatory location tracker and emergency pager issued by the Center to all ability users. Despite having watches worth thousands or millions stored in his dressing room, this was what he wore. Above that was a neat shirt sleeve. The skin under the luxurious fabric was probably covered with scars like those on the back of his hand. Though Ryu Ho-yeon’s arms were also scarred from various guiding substitutes he’d received since childhood, he found himself more concerned about the scars on Choi Jae-won’s arms.
As his gaze continued upward, he first saw shoulders that had become noticeably stronger, then the still handsome face.
“Hmm? Why are you looking at me like that? Is there something you want to say?”
“…”
Until twenty, he had honestly been an adult in name only, still looking like a high school student, and even at twenty-one, he still had a youthful appearance. Though still only twenty-three, he had clearly aged—his overall contours becoming much more adult and solid. His jawline, which finished in a firm straight line rather than tapering to a point like Ryu Ho-yeon’s, seemed to enhance his reliable impression.
“Hoyeon hyung?”
“…On your way back, buy some bungeoppang. Half red bean, half custard.”
Suddenly irritated, Ryu Ho-yeon demanded fish-shaped pastries out of nowhere. As a government facility, the Center had no food trucks selling such things. This was pure spite. There was just one bungeoppang truck that usually appeared around this time at an awkward distance from the Center—too close for driving but a bit far to walk.
Whether he knew it was spite or not, Choi Jae-won smiled happily and said, “I understand, I’ll definitely buy some,” before leaving the quarters. The automatic locking sound of the door somehow felt lonely.
“Huh? What did you say, hyung? A joint operation? With China?”
Normally, an employee from the Deployment Department would explain missions, so when Kim Jun-young called him directly to his office, Ryu Ho-yeon knew it wasn’t an ordinary operation. But he hadn’t expected to have to cross a gate with Espers from another country.
“Yes. And since it’s an unofficial operation, it won’t be calculated in your performance bonus. Instead, they’ll pay cash directly.”
“That’s not the issue. How will we control it? Will they understand my instructions? You say we’re going out in just three days—should I learn Chinese in the meantime? Or English?”
True, even low-ranking Espers received much higher salaries than other civil servants of similar ranks when including hazard pay, so S-class Espers like Kim Jun-young or Ryu Ho-yeon had no financial concerns.
He’d heard rumors about South Korean ability users working with North Korean ones to quickly contain a large forest fire in Gangwon Province, but entering combat with people who couldn’t even communicate? Ryu Ho-yeon wasn’t confident the operation would proceed smoothly. A B-class or A-class dungeon might be manageable, but this was S-class. As the main striker, his commands needed to be followed precisely by others to provide backup without timing errors, but how could he expect that from people who couldn’t understand him?
The situation would be the same if China sent an S-class Esper as the main striker—South Koreans couldn’t properly backup someone whose instructions they couldn’t understand. If there were no communication barriers between Chinese speakers and Korean speakers, King Sejong wouldn’t have needed to create Hangul because “our language is different from Chinese and we cannot communicate with each other.”
“Well, about that… the Foreign Ministry is sending someone to serve as an interpreter and potential dispute mediator…”
Even as he relayed this information, Kim Jun-young seemed unsure. Ryu Ho-yeon, who had been sitting quietly until then, immediately stood up and grabbed the back of his neck. Choi Jae-won, sitting beside him, said, “Hyung, calm down,” while barely managing to pull his fuming shoulders back down.
Over the past few years, as Ryu Ho-yeon maintained more normal and human social interactions and emotional exchanges, his expressions and mannerisms had become more varied. His theatrical tone, which once sounded like narration, had become closer to real-world speech. But even so, his current reaction seemed unprecedented. Choi Jae-won inwardly surmised that he must be absolutely flabbergasted.
“Y-y-you’re sending a p-person? No, right? Surely… No, right, hyung? Surely you’re not saying to take a c-civilian into an S-class dungeon… That can’t be right?”
“Well…”
Uncharacteristically avoiding eye contact and rolling his eyes uncomfortably, Kim Jun-young eventually attempted an unconvincing show of authority.
“Come now. A civilian? Hoyeon! This person passed the Level 5 civil service exam in one go, a true genius among geniuses. The Foreign Ministry is sending us a real core talent!”
“So what? They’re still a civilian!!”
“Not exactly. Listen, this person is also an Esper. You know the Special Ability Users Act? How direct descendants of national merit recipients can avoid Center admission, with just one person exempted per family line…”
“What does that matter? The waiver is only recognized up to C-class, which means at best they’re a C-class! Do you think I’m an idiot?”
“Oh… Our Hoyeon isn’t just pretending to be smart, but actually is smart… I didn’t know, that’s right…”
Internationally, only B-class and above Espers and Guides were considered effective combat personnel. Those managing dungeons often treated even B-class as low-ranked, but considering there were C-class and D-class below them, B wasn’t that low. C-class and D-class Espers didn’t need much guiding for daily life, so they only needed to visit the guiding department once a month after joining the Center in an office position.
Like the Foreign Ministry official being discussed, those who avoided admission for various reasons only needed to visit the Center once a month like a regular hospital checkup. These were very fortunate cases—they avoided combat dangers while being born with guaranteed government jobs.
“What kind of nonsense are you sprouting just because you’re not going in!!”
“You know physical enhancement types are useless in maritime dungeons, right? What can I say, Hoyeon. If you’re upset, you shouldn’t have been born as a physical enhancement type with limited usefulness.”
“Ah, hyung should have refused somehow! China? Fine, let’s say going in with them is better. But a civilian? A civilian!! Is an S-class dungeon some neighborhood hill you visit for a stroll?”
With his foul language seemingly picked up from playing online games with Lee Han-seo lately, his temperament was strikingly similar to his close friend’s.
Kim Jun-young kept glancing at Lee Jung-hyuk, who was sitting on a distant sofa and completely ignoring the situation, silently pleading for help. It was useless. Though Lee Jung-hyuk typically took Kim Jun-young’s side in conflicts without question, he rarely intervened when the conflict involved juniors or those younger than him. Disappointed, Kim Jun-young clicked his tongue and turned his attention back to the fuming Ryu Ho-yeon.
“Well, they said a broken bone or two would be fine. The Foreign Ministry just asked us to bring them back alive. They’ve already arrived this morning and are receiving some adaptation training, so why don’t you go meet them?”
“Ha…”
“The situation really can’t be helped, so try to understand. You’ve read the overview I sent, right?”
“Yeah.”
Finally accepting that his outburst wouldn’t change anything and would only hurt himself, Ryu Ho-yeon sighed and leaned back in his chair, almost lying down against the backrest.
This S-class dungeon that had appeared in the Yellow Sea was literally a gate that had opened in the middle of the ocean. Not only was it difficult to assess, but even though two days had already passed since the gate appeared, they hadn’t even deployed yet because they were still assembling the necessary equipment and personnel.
Currently, they were monitoring the gate 24/7 in case it burst open and monsters escaped. The problem was that while South Korea was preparing its defenses and planning its strategy… an illegal Chinese fishing vessel that hadn’t received the warning had fearlessly entered Korean waters and gotten caught up in the gate.
