The wall collapsed without warning. Before he could even shake off the debris that rained down on him, Hong Seong-jun rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding Zero.
Thud— Thump— Crack—
Because he had dodged, Zero’s fists slammed into the ground instead. The concrete floor shattered like soft tofu.
“Stop dodging like some damn rat and start bleeding already. I want to see what S-rank blood tastes like—see if it really is any different.”
Zero sneered, taunting him. But Hong Seong-jun did not rise to the bait. Instead, he focused on scouting an escape route.
Now that he was actually fighting Zero, the man’s power was far beyond what he had imagined. Kang Min had once suffered a serious injury battling Zero in the past.
The man had dealt a critical blow to Kang Min, who was stronger than himself. So, deep down, Hong Seong-jun had suspected Zero might be more powerful.
But he had never expected the gap to be this vast.
If he kept pushing forward with a mutual-destruction mindset, he might be able to land a serious hit—but ultimately, the loss would be his.
Hong Seong-jun made up his mind to retreat. He had already been away for quite some time.
By now, it would not be strange if someone had noticed his absence.
If I stay here any longer, I will accomplish nothing—no kill, no gain.
As bitter as it was, now was the time to bide his time for another chance. He still needed to confirm whether Lee Haru was truly dead.
The odds of a Guide surviving inside a dungeon without an Esper were virtually zero—but this was a man who had survived a suicide attempt.
And there was also the possibility that Zero had lied to him.
If he was being honest, he hoped Lee Haru was still alive—no matter what condition he was in.
“Ghh, GRAAAHH…!”
A perfect opening. As strong as Zero was, he struggled to hold onto his sanity.
Right now, he was clutching his face and letting out a guttural scream, overwhelmed by pain. Taking advantage of the brief window, Hong Seong-jun slipped away in a flash.
A furious scream rang out behind him, but he only picked up speed. When it came to pure mobility, not a single S-rank Esper could outrun him.
“Huff… Huff…”
It was only when he reached the site where he had originally been leading the search that Hong Seong-jun finally allowed himself to catch his breath.
In the distance, he saw Espers in uniform. He gave them a light wave, and they bowed respectfully before continuing their search.
Hong Seong-jun joined in, pretending to help. He, along with other Alpha Teams from the Seoul Branch, had been combing through the part of Incheon that bordered Gimpo.
They were checking every nook and crevice that could possibly fit a single person, but there had been no results. And given what Zero had told him, Hong Seong-jun was only going through the motions.
He had no motivation whatsoever—he knew Lee Haru was not here.
Instead, his mind was tangled with thoughts of other Guides who had vanished inside dungeons.
Accidents could strike anytime, anywhere. In the early days when dungeons and Ability Users first appeared in Korea, Guides were sent into dungeons alongside Espers.
Back then, there were so few Guides, and Espers were pushed so hard that their Rampage Risk Index was constantly maxed out. They had no other options.
Even so, there had never been a single case of a Guide disappearing after entering a dungeon alone. The idea that they might never find Lee Haru was eating him alive.
That was when Hong Seong-jun noticed something—something out of place.
He had been trying to clear his head and wandered far from the active search zone.
The landscape below flickered past like a spinning panorama. Then he spotted a limp figure slumped over the tide-worn rocks, just shy of the water’s reach.
Jet-black hair. A nape so pale it was almost ghostly. The moment he saw it, Hong Seong-jun’s eyes widened and shook.
He stopped in his tracks and quickly scanned the area. No movement. No other Espers in sight.
Without hesitation, he sprinted toward the rocky shore. The closer he got, the more certain he became. A quiet, breathless laugh slipped out.
“Ha… haha… Just like that… right in front of my eyes…”
Even as he looked, he could hardly believe it. The body looked dead, still as stone—but Hong Seong-jun could clearly hear soft, fragile breaths.
He rushed to the figure and turned the body over. A pale face emerged, appearing even whiter with the eyes closed.
A bruised, crimson handprint marred the throat, blood trailing down from it. Just in case, he touched the back of the head—his palm came away stained red.
Without wasting a second, he pulled out a healing potion and applied it to the wounds. He took a mouthful of it, leaned in.
Parting cold, slick lips, he let the potion trickle into Lee Haru’s mouth. Haru’s tongue stirred instinctively.
His fragile, almost nonexistent breathing began to stabilize.
Hong Seong-jun shrugged off his soaked jacket, wrapped it around the drenched Lee Haru, and gathered him into his arms.
It was only after he had retrieved Lee Haru that Hong Seong-jun realized—his heart had been beating all wrong this whole time.
Now, finally, it felt like the world had righted itself.
This was fate. It had to be him—no one else—who found Lee Haru first.
Ever since Lee Haru had changed, the puzzle pieces had all been scattered. Now, they were falling back into place. A flash of light cut across his faintly blue-tinted eyes.
***
[Wake up. You cannot afford to be lying around right now!]
“Just a little more… I am just really sleepy…”
A voice, sharp and urgent, echoed in his head, but Lee Haru only flinched slightly, pulling the soft blanket more tightly around himself.
The blanket felt like a cloud. He had never touched a real one, but everyone imagined how they would feel just from looking at them, right?
The warmth was unreal—like bedding freshly sun-dried under the midday sun. So soft and comforting, it made him feel like he could sleep for two days straight without regret…
“WAAAGH!”
With a startled scream, Lee Haru jerked upright—only to immediately collapse back onto the bed as a wave of dizziness crashed over him.
“My head… it hurts so much…”
It was the worst headache he had ever experienced—like someone had jammed a chisel into his skull and was hammering it down, thud, crack, again and again.
As the splitting pain pulsed through his head, fragmented memories resurfaced—just before he blacked out, he had nearly suffocated inside a slime. Then, he heard a voice—familiar, unmistakable.
That voice… I know it…
[Yeah. It’s me, Lee Haru.]
Gasp…
It made no sense. Until now, he had glimpsed fragments of the original Lee Haru’s memories in his dreams, but never once had he heard a voice.
Even back in the mansion, the sounds he heard had been little more than faint weeping—not actual speech.
But now, words echoed clearly in his ears. Not just once, but in perfect rhythm with his thoughts—like someone responding directly.
Still facedown in the bed, Lee Haru trembled from head to toe. Was this really happening? Has the worst possibility come true?
Maybe the original Lee Haru, unable to rest in peace, had turned into a ghost—and was now clinging to him.
[Why are you so skittish? You’re running out of time. You can’t be zoning out like this!]
Why are you doing this to me…? It is not like I wanted to end up in this body either…
The impatient voice made his heart pound erratically. It felt like the ghost might suddenly appear in front of him, bleeding and furious, demanding that he give the body back.
[I know. Technically speaking, I was the one who chose you.]
…What?
[You just happened to die right in front of me. I did not have time to find someone else. And honestly, with that face, you looked like you had some fight in you. Thought it was perfect. Didn’t expect you to be such a timid, pathetic little wimp though.]
Wow. Harsh. Lee Haru winced, rubbing his throbbing temple, then slowly lifted his head.
He glanced around the spacious room, but as he had feared—he was alone. No ghostly figure dripping blood. Nothing.
[What are you looking for? You think I am actually going to show up in front of you?]
…Yeah.
The voice alone was terrifying, but seeing an actual ghost would have been far worse. When he answered honestly, the original Lee Haru let out a mocking snort.
[You’re really this much of a coward? With that face, you look like you could beat up a few people without even trying.]
…Were you always like this?
It was baffling. In the dreams, the original Lee Haru had seemed so pitiful—helpless even. Whenever Kang Min had mistreated him, he had never fought back, only mumbled in frustration. But judging by the way he spoke now? He was a total brawler.
[What’s wrong with my personality?]
Only now did it all start to click—the origin of the rumor he had overheard at the pizza place when he first arrived.
If this was how Lee Haru behaved with anyone who was not Kang Min or the S-rank Espers, then of course he had enemies everywhere.
Not that it excused the people who had torn him apart for sport.
Just to check… can I ask you something?
[So you’re finally ready to have an actual conversation?]
…Yeah. I’ve got a few things I need to know.
Before they could talk any further, there was one thing he needed to get straight.
OOOOH SEONGJUN PISSIN’ ME OFF SO BAD