Once Julian had recovered enough to fall back within normal parameters, there was nothing standing in their way. There were a million things they wanted to ask and say, but escaping the dungeon took priority. Under Simon’s command, the entire team made a beeline for the barrier stone, moving as fast as their bodies would allow.
There was no need to waste energy on the monsters they encountered along the way. Even when the beasts charged at them, drawn by instinct like moths to a flame, they simply ignored them and kept moving. They’d already eliminated enough monsters that even if the dungeon closed now, the gate wouldn’t reopen.
With Lee Han-seo providing unwavering support, Park Woo-jun summoned a steady tailwind to carry the party forward.
And finally, just as their exhausted legs managed one more stride—then another through sheer willpower—reaching the point where going any farther felt impossible…
“I see the barrier stone! I’m breaking it now and opening the return gate!”
Finally. The long, grueling raid had come to an end.
***
When the team crossed back through the gate into reality—having conquered an unprecedented dungeon without a single death—they were met with a roar of cheers unlike anything they’d ever heard.
Those waiting on the other side had sensed the return gate forming and rushed to greet them. When they confirmed that not a single member was dead or even seriously injured, they embraced each other, overwhelmed with emotion. Even if they’d thrown all of humanity’s power into this operation, surviving a dungeon that had claimed every prior attempt was nothing short of a miracle.
The American researchers, who had been pacing in a panic, praying their S-Class Esper would return with a heartbeat, practically wrestled Julian off Simon’s back the moment they saw him. He’d been chosen for the mission because, among S-Class Espers, he was the only one without a Bonded Pair Guide. If someone had to be sacrificed, Julian had been the most “expendable” choice.
But even so, he was still a national asset. Losing an Esper to a fight on foreign soil was a bitter blow, no matter how justified.
Determined to save him if he made it back alive, they had called in every available Guide and stocked up on unverified experimental drugs. They’d been ready to do whatever it took. But in the end, all of it had been unnecessary.
“Get every viable substitute ready—inject him now! Julian, can you hear me?!”
“What… What the hell? Doctor! Check the readings first! Current Guiding level: thirty-six percent. Esper condition: extremely stable!”
“What? No way. That can’t be…!”
Simon, who had been shoved aside without so much as a thank-you, smirked and leaned his head in between the stunned researchers, all of whom were exchanging baffled looks.
“If you’re looking to thank someone, you should be sending flowers to Guide Lee Han-seo. I had no idea S-Class Guides were this incredible until now.”
“Wait… Are you saying it was Guide Lee who stabilized Julian like this?”
“Of course. The other Guides helped too, but without him, there’s no way we could’ve raised those numbers this high. It was practically magic. Isn’t that right, Guide Lee?”
Simon turned his head, scanning the crowd for Han-seo. Everyone else followed suit like synchronized meerkats. But the spot where Park Woo-jun and Lee Han-seo should’ve been… was empty.
“Guide Lee? Hey—did anyone see where Guide Lee went?!”
“Chief! Esper Park Woo-jun is missing too!”
“What the hell?! Where are they?!”
Just then, as confusion began to overtake the joy, the loud whir of helicopter blades thundered overhead.
“What now? Another supply drop? Didn’t we get the last shipment yesterday?”
“Oh my god…! Look! Both of them are in that chopper!”
“What? They’re just leaving? Without even saying goodbye?!”
“Looks like… that’s exactly what they’re doing…”
Disbelieving murmurs disappeared into the wind. Lee Han-seo’s face appeared in the helicopter window, flashing a smug little grin as he raised a hand in a casual wave. You really thought we’d stick around and let you parade us around? Suckers. Still, the fact that he kept his real thoughts to himself counted as a form of politeness in his book.
***
“Ugh, I don’t wanna go back. Can’t we just extend our vacation a little longer?”
“Mm… Joon-young sunbae says we’ve pushed it too far. He wants us back. Now. No more excuses…”
They’d burned through every possible form of leave—vacation, sick days, even unpaid time off. And sure, they knew full well that Kim Joon-young and Ryu Ho-yeon had gone to bat for them to make it happen. But still, after getting used to this laid-back lifestyle, the thought of stepping back out into the world felt impossible.
After clearing an S-Class dungeon with the strongest wave activity on record, they’d practically run away and holed up together in their own little honeymoon bubble, blocking out the rest of the world. And while they were off the grid, basking in each other’s company, the world had changed—fast.
In just over a month, one of the most dramatic shifts was the skyrocketing fame of the seven S-Class Espers who had participated in the raid. They were practically celebrities now—on par with Hollywood A-listers.
Sure, S-Class Espers had always been famous. But that fame was mostly limited to their home countries and neighboring nations. Now, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that nearly every person on Earth knew the names and faces of those seven.
Unstoppable waves of S-Class dungeons. Stronger, deadlier monsters. Dungeon Breaks and rising body counts. Forced relocations and the astronomical economic and social toll that followed. Discrimination and displacement trauma. For the past few years, the world had been drowning in an endless flood of bad news.
So when humanity finally got a win—no matter how small—it was only natural for people to cling to it like an addictive drug. Everyone wanted something to hope for. And now, they had it.
“Haah… Just a sec. Seriously, just ten more minutes. Let’s sit here a bit longer before heading out, yeah?”
“Yeah, let’s do that!”
“Are there a lot of people outside? How many do you think showed up?”
“Umm… hold on. I can’t count them all, but… it’s packed. Seriously, packed.”
“Ugh. So annoying.”
He’d dreamed of this—lounging around with his gorgeous boyfriend at a Swiss villa so peaceful it felt like nothing could touch them. That had been the good life. Now, Lee Han-seo let out a groan and dropped down onto a hard suitcase with a dramatic thud. It had been well over an hour since they’d landed and picked up their luggage, but with that horde of reporters swarming outside, the urge to go out had vanished completely.
At least the flight over had been quiet. They’d booked out the entire first-class cabin and timed their arrival to avoid any crowds. The terminal was practically deserted—just as planned.
“How the hell did our flight time leak? I didn’t even tell my parents, just in case.”
Maybe people started whispering the second we booked the whole cabin. Even if it’s first class, it’s not like there were that many seats anyway, baby… Park Woo-jun held his tongue, not wanting to risk upsetting his heavenly partner. Instead, he simply reached over and affectionately ruffled Han-seo’s short, fluffy hair. The truth was, he didn’t want to leave either.
If it were up to him, he’d lock Han-seo away in that villa and stay there forever. And honestly, even if he did lock him up, Han-seo might throw a fit at first, but the moment Woo-jun shed a few tears and said sorry, he’d sigh, say “fine,” and quietly let himself be kept.
“Alright. Time to go. If things get crazy, I’ll give the signal—just grab me and run, okay? Forget the luggage.”
“Got it, baby. Leave it to me.”
And that was how Park Woo-jun managed to hold himself back—because he knew better than anyone that Lee Han-seo was someone who would willingly stay, just for him.
Drawing in one last deep breath, Han-seo squared his shoulders and marched forward. After just a few steps, whrrr, the sliding doors to the arrivals hall opened.
“There they are!”
“Now that you’re back from your extended vacation, how are you feeling?”
“Have you seen the recent interview with Julian Moore, the American Esper who served on your raid team—?”
“Guide Lee Han-seo! Esper Park Woo-jun!!”
Of course. The flashes burst like fireworks, popping off in rapid succession, a frenzy of camera shutters crashing down on them like a wave. The prearranged airport security team was completely useless against the sheer number of press. Reporters surged forward like bulls in a stampede, and even random civilians—caught in the chaos, just hoping to catch a glimpse of the famous Bonded Pair—got swept up in the madness. It was pure mayhem.
And in the middle of it all, one particular face stood out to Lee Han-seo: a middle-aged man calling his name in a voice so overly dramatic it was almost desperate.
Han-seo recognized him instantly. He was the guy who ran one of those trash-tier online news sites—the same site that had kept pumping out malicious articles long after everyone else backed off. The day Han-seo left for the mission, this guy was still stirring up garbage, saying things like, “Look at this! He’s just running away because public opinion turned on him!” Han-seo had been so pissed that he actually had Chief Seo dig up the man’s full profile.
“How hard it must’ve been for you, Guide Lee Han-seo! As a fellow citizen, I was deeply moved by your and Esper Park’s heroic efforts—!”
As Han-seo stepped forward, completely ignoring the chaos around him, the man pushed through the crowd to meet him, his wrinkled face lit with excitement like he’d struck gold. So shameless. He probably assumed that, since his outlet was small-time, Han-seo wouldn’t know what kind of filth he’d been writing.
“I really wasn’t planning to say anything today, but since everyone keeps asking for a statement… I guess I’ll say a little something.”
With a sweet smile, Han-seo plucked the microphone from the man’s hand. The moment he flashed that radiant grin, the crowd of photographers went wild again, their flashes flaring back to life.
“There’s a truckload of people here today who not long ago were calling us tax-wasting freeloaders and demanding we be stripped of our S-Class titles. And now you’re calling us heroes? Please. That’s rich.”
“……”
The chaotic, noisy crowd fell deathly silent, like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water on them.
“Thanks for the bullshit. We’ll be going now.”
His tone was cool, cutting, and unmistakably pissed off. And in the face of that unshakable confidence, not a single soul dared stop them as they walked away, heads held high.
