The first battle ended without major casualties. It was called a battle simply because it was a clash between two opposing forces. The Esper corps, with Han Ju-oh at the center, fiercely fought against bird-type monsters resembling hawks and mammalian beasts that looked like wild boars.
Though their forms resembled hawks and boars, they were still monsters through and through, and the battlefield turned into a chaotic brawl. The fact that it ended with only minor injuries and no fatalities was no small feat.
‘So this is why people say Han Ju-oh flies around.’
He did literally fly, yes—but it was also a remark about his incredible combat prowess.
‘S-Class isn’t called that for nothing.’
Base stats were a factor, sure, but the rank wasn’t assigned solely based on that. It was given after a comprehensive evaluation, and Han Ju-oh proved himself more than worthy of the title.
He flew through the sky, rescuing Espers in danger. That wasn’t all—he showed up in just the right places, eliminating monsters with precision. He was a living demonstration of efficiency in combat.
“So this is what it means when people say someone’s so good you can’t even criticize them.”
He was annoying—like a child who wouldn’t eat or sleep—but now, Seo-ha could only stare in awe. It wasn’t even his first time seeing him in action, and still, Han Ju-oh’s skill left him speechless.
As he watched black rain—or rather, hawks—fall from all directions, at some point, it had all come to an end.
Once he judged it was safe to move, Seo-ha approached Han Ju-oh and offered him the towel he’d been holding.
“Use this instead.”
Han Ju-oh had been roughly wiping blood from his eyelid with the back of his hand, but now turned to Seo-ha. He held the towel out again, clearly this time.
“I said, wipe yourself with this.”
Only then did Han Ju-oh take the towel, but he hesitated, the texture not what he expected. In that brief pause, Seo-ha shook his head as if to say it was nothing.
“I thought it’d be better than just using water, so I prepped it.”
It was a towel sprayed with disinfectant he’d picked up from the medical center before entering the gate. Even after explaining, Han Ju-oh stood still, so Seo-ha, growing frustrated, took the towel back and began wiping the blood off Han Ju-oh’s face himself.
“You never know when another fight might break out, so it’s better to clean up whenever you can. Sometimes the blood can be toxic, and if that’s the case, it’ll only do you harm.”
He only wiped down Han Ju-oh’s face, neck, and hands, yet the towel was soon soaked in blood. Seo-ha discarded it without hesitation and held out a bottle of water.
“Your hands are clean now, so drink.”
Still breathing heavily from the aftermath of the fight, Han Ju-oh, surprisingly, accepted the bottle without resistance. Seo-ha had been ready to argue if he refused, but was thrown off by how obediently he took it.
“Give me food too.”
“Now? Who knows when we’ll have to fight again?”
It had already been weird when he’d asked for food before the fight. Seo-ha knew he wasn’t just joking, but was he seriously going to eat now? With Han Ju-oh standing there in silence, it became clear he really meant to eat, so Seo-ha changed their location first. No matter what, he couldn’t feed him somewhere that reeked of blood.
As soon as they found a suitable spot, Seo-ha handed over a packed lunch. Watching Han Ju-oh eat in silence, Seo-ha was overcome with a strange feeling.
‘Why does it feel so empty?’
Had he not guided him? No—he had.
Was there a monster left unchecked? Probably not. He was pretty sure they’d taken care of them all.
“What the hell’s wrong with me?”
Leaning back against a tree, fingers interlocked behind his head, Seo-ha sat in a daze before a sudden thought made him jolt.
“Am I seriously… feeling disappointed?”
Just because they didn’t fight like before?
“I’m insane. Totally insane.”
Seo-ha began smacking himself in the head. Han Ju-oh glanced back once but quickly lost interest, unaware—or maybe fully aware—of what Seo-ha was thinking.
Watching him, Seo-ha slumped down beside him and placed his hand over the back of Han Ju-oh’s hand, the one holding the lunchbox.
He’d already guided him earlier, so no energy transferred. Feeling the deflection, Seo-ha withdrew his hand.
“It’s all thanks to my excellent guiding earlier.”
He tried to comfort himself with the thought that that was why it didn’t work now. Han Ju-oh kept eating with an unreadable expression.
“Are you going to sleep after you eat?”
It had only been half a day, but Han Ju-oh hadn’t slept at all last night. It wouldn’t be strange if he was exhausted by now, so Seo-ha asked.
“They’re going to come again.”
“…Ah.”
Seo-ha hadn’t sensed anything yet, so he looked around, wondering where he could move to keep safe this time.
“Don’t stay under the trees again.”
Han Ju-oh, having finished his meal, turned to Seo-ha.
“Why not?”
“Because I need to be able to find you.”
It felt like his own reflection was etched into Han Ju-oh’s eyes.
***
During the second battle, Han Ju-oh turned his gaze toward the non-combat personnel—specifically, the Guides. Though it seemed like he was scanning the entire group clustered together, in truth, his eyes were locked on Baek Seo-ha.
It wasn’t hard to spot him. Taller than the average person with sharp, distinct features, Seo-ha was always easy to find. Though the man himself seemed to think he could disappear just by hiding in a corner.
Seo-ha held a stun baton in his hand, scanning the area vigilantly for any potential threats. Sleeping bags, lunch boxes, towels, spare clothes, self-defense tools—he had brought a large bag for a reason. It was big enough for two, including Han Ju-oh’s things as well.
Seo-ha wasn’t just someone who knew how to stay out of the way and provide Guidance at the right time. He meddled in everything from A to Z. He made sure Han Ju-oh ate, told him to sleep, promised to wake him if anything happened. It was like bringing a babysitter, not a partner. Or worse, it felt like he was trying to make himself into an errand boy—and Han Ju-oh didn’t like that.
He hadn’t brought Seo-ha along just to order him around. So why was the man so determined to lower himself?
He made his annoyance obvious, showing clear displeasure. But he failed to recognize the truth about Baek Seo-ha.
Seo-ha wasn’t just compensating for a low compatibility rate by working harder in other areas. That was simply technique. There were rumors he’d run a lot of dungeons, and maybe that’s why—his awareness of the surroundings was impressively sharp.
When Seo-ha had quickly picked the perfect location even before the battle started, the last bit of misunderstanding vanished. And once it did, hunger crept in. Though he was used to fighting on an empty stomach, the lunchbox Seo-ha had offered earlier lingered in his mind.
After the battle, when Seo-ha wiped the blood from his face with those careful hands, the thought came to him—maybe following his lead wouldn’t be so bad after all.
***
“What the hell is going on?”
Seo-ha couldn’t think straight amid the nonstop battles. There was definitely no hidden gate—so why were the fights never-ending? Some waves were handled with ease, but the monsters kept pouring out at regular intervals.
“Is this why it was rated A-rank?”
There was no sight of a boss-class monster like the one from the desert, but instead, a monotonous and exhausting string of fights continued. They weren’t in immediate danger of losing their lives, but the accumulated fatigue was wearing them down.
Especially Han Ju-oh.
“This is dangerous.”
By the time they hit the fifth wave, Han Ju-oh’s berserk risk level had risen to 80%. At this rate, even the slightest trigger could tip him over—but pulling him back wasn’t an option. Without him, the Espers’ overall performance would drop by more than 20%. And more than the stats, what really mattered was that his presence meant no casualties.
All things considered, they had no choice but to keep sending him in, but that didn’t make it any less frustrating.
“Stop showing up already.”
Seo-ha muttered as he watched the monsters swinging their massive limbs in front of him. He’d seen enough of these forest-dwelling “animal friends” to last a lifetime.
“Huh?”
As he scanned the area, Seo-ha jumped when an Esper fell near them. Then he looked up—and was shocked all over again at who had thrown him.
“Han Ju-oh!”
Han Ju-oh had rescued the Esper from danger, but his condition was clearly not normal. He couldn’t even fly up properly and was breathing heavily, his eyes glazed over.
“Just come here for a second. Let me Guide you.”
Even a 3% boost would help right now. Seo-ha reached out to him, but Han Ju-oh shook his head.
“It’s not over yet.”
“I have eyes too. I can see your face looking like death, and you’re still saying you’re fine?”
“I can still… hold on.”
“Bullshit.”
His lips were already cracked and covered in blood. Not monster blood—his own, dried and crusted from how badly they were split.
His watch screen was flashing red, beeping out warning after warning. It had to mean his berserk risk was now over 90%.
“Just give me a moment to Guide you—hey, you…”
Seo-ha was about to plead with him, about to say saving others was important but taking a moment to be Guided was just as crucial—but then he caught a glimpse of Han Ju-oh’s watch.
“…You’re at 92%.”
Others who heard Seo-ha mutter those numbers instinctively backed away. He hadn’t gone berserk yet, but it was still a dangerous situation.
“No matter how necessary this all is, if it’s gotten this bad, you should’ve pulled back.”
“If I did that… he’d be dead.”
He was talking about the Esper he’d just saved. Seo-ha knew that, but hearing him basically say he’d rather die in that place than let someone else die left a bitter taste in his mouth.
As another urgent alarm blared from the watch, Seo-ha yanked Han Ju-oh’s leg, forcing him to crouch. Then he grabbed his hand, about to start Guiding—
A deafening roar exploded around them, shaking the ground and their entire bodies.
