When they stepped into the conference room, about ten people looked up and greeted them with cheerful familiarity. Every single face was familiar. All the S-Class Espers and their Bonded Pair Guides who had participated in the last U-Class raid had joined this new task force without exception.
Lee Han-seo had made a lasting impression with his exceptional Guiding during the final moments of that mission. On top of that, the way he’d vanished in a helicopter before anyone could really catch up with him had left quite a buzz. So the welcome they received now came with even more warmth and enthusiasm.
The A-Class and lower Espers, along with their Guides, had also done their part, but they hadn’t been added to the current team. Since they weren’t the main force in combat—usually taking support or backup roles—it was more efficient not to fix them as permanent members. Instead, they’d be deployed as needed from the host country’s available Esper pool.
Park Woo-jun, who looked like he was hiding behind Lee Han-seo at first glance, immediately leaned forward anytime someone even looked like they might approach. Seeing him still act the same, everyone laughed, saying, “Some things never change.” Han-seo, Woo-jun, and Julian Moore were easily the youngest in the room, so whether they liked it or not, they got saddled with a kind of involuntary cuteness.
“Seriously, kids are the best. They’re so much fun to tease.”
“Right? I was shocked when I heard Blader was his country’s S-Class rep. I mean, sure, he’s powerful—but he’s so young. I couldn’t imagine a kid like that keeping all those overpowered Espers in check. Turns out I was completely wrong, though.”
They still remembered how chilling it had been watching Park Woo-jun in action—how he’d stick close to his Guide, blinking with wide, innocent eyes, only to transform the moment combat started. Calm and efficient, he sliced through monsters like a silent reaper. And it wasn’t just the speaker—everyone joined in, admitting they’d thought the same thing back then.
“And don’t even get me started on Han-seo. At least Blader looks like an adult. When I first saw him, I thought HQ had run out of people and dragged along some seventeen-year-old kid.”
The one laughing now was Mathis, Simon’s A-Class Guide. Seated directly across from them, he reached out with his rough, sponge-like fingers, aiming to pinch Han-seo’s cheek.
Of course, it was pointless. Moving a mere Guide—especially one like Mathis—was easier than breathing for Park Woo-jun, who’d knocked down S-Class Espers without breaking a sweat. Woo-jun casually lifted him, chair and all, and flung him toward the entrance like a piece of laundry. The room instantly burst into laughter and playful jeers—not mean-spirited, just genuinely amused. Even Mathis, after being launched, laughed as he stood up and brushed himself off.
Simon arrived just as Mathis was making his way back to the group—perfect timing.
“Looks like everyone’s already reacquainted. Since we all know each other, I’ll skip the introductions. That all right with everyone?”
It was the first official day the team had gathered, just a casual meetup to say hello. Simon kept things relaxed and easygoing as he spoke.
Since the roster hadn’t changed, he smoothly suggested keeping their previous positions—and before anyone could argue, he’d already claimed the leadership role for the new U-Class task force. He didn’t seem particularly power-hungry, but… between Julian’s teasing about how much Simon had been “waiting” for Han-seo and how naturally he steered the mood, it was clear he had a talent for getting his way.
Han-seo narrowed his eyes at him, clearly annoyed. He looked exactly like what Kim Joon-young might’ve turned into if he’d grown up more twisted after failing to meet Lee Jung-hyuk—a polished shell wrapped around something far less pleasant.
Back during the previous mission, Han-seo hadn’t understood anything during the initial meetings. And inside the dungeon, where he could actually hear English, there hadn’t been much chance for conversation. So he hadn’t noticed before.
Life’s full of surprises. Who’d have thought I’d meet someone even more insufferable than Kim Joon-young? I have to tell Jung-hyuk hyung about this.
Pulling out his phone, Han-seo paused as he saw the Korean Standard Time on the screen. It was still just before 5 p.m. in Berlin, but in Seoul, it was already past 11 p.m.
They’d gone straight from the airport to HQ without a single break, and aside from the fact that everyone around him was foreign, it hadn’t really hit him that he was abroad. But seeing 4:44 p.m. and 11:44 p.m. side-by-side on the screen finally drove the point home.
He really was far from home.
“Oh, right. I’m sure you’ve all heard about the new U-Class dungeon wave detected in Northern Europe. Get some good rest tonight—we’ll begin simulation training tomorrow afternoon. It’ll run for three days straight, and then we’ll move to the predicted gate location. Any questions or concerns?”
“Nope, Leader.”
“Same here.”
“All good.”
Just as Han-seo was starting to settle in, Simon’s words started firing off like bullets again, and Han-seo scowled. Ugh, why couldn’t Korean be the global language? Being thrown back into a completely English-speaking environment after so long was already making his head ache. He’d thought that with a cushy job and a fat bank account, studying was out of his life for good. But now, at an age when most people were graduating college, here he was—stuck learning English.
With a sigh, he slumped forward, resting his forehead on Park Woo-jun’s shoulder.
Woo-jun gently patted the back of his head in silent encouragement—but it didn’t help one bit. After all, Woo-jun was one of those otherworldly geniuses who hadn’t missed a single English question on the college entrance exam.
***
“Han-seo! Am I doing this right?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t just glance at it—come here and actually check!”
“I am checking! What more do you want me to teach you?”
While the six Espers—excluding Julian—were working hard to sync up using the base’s only multi-simulation system, the Guides weren’t just sitting around twiddling their thumbs, either.
Fortunately, reports suggested that this dungeon wouldn’t be as massive as the last one. Still, no one could predict how long the battle would drag on once they entered. Which meant everyone had to handle their own stamina prep ahead of time.
As always, Lee Han-seo stuck to his routine—basic physical training focused on building endurance. But it was like the other Guides had made a pact to get in his way. Every time he tried to train, someone would show up and start bothering him.
Compared to Han-seo—an S-Class Guide capable of absorbing another person’s Guiding waves, syncing them to match his own purity, and reinfusing them like it was nothing—the rest couldn’t help but seem a little underwhelming. But in truth, the other Guides on the U-Class task force were all elite in their own right. The kind of people who, anywhere else, would be treated like royalty. They hadn’t gotten to Berlin by clinging to their partner’s coattails. They’d earned it.
In high-tier dungeons, where everyone pushed their abilities to the absolute limit, even the slightest difference in Guiding quality could lead to drastically different outcomes. It was no wonder top Espers staked their lives on the quality of their Guiding.
It wasn’t common in South Korea—thanks to geography and its tense border—but in places like North America, Europe, and Central Asia, it wasn’t unusual for Guides to switch allegiances. If an Esper offered better conditions, some Guides would sign direct contracts and even change national affiliation. Each country had its own set of rules, but generally, Guides had more leeway in fulfilling mandatory service requirements or qualifying for exemptions.
Still, all the Guides here—despite being paired with top-tier Espers—watched Han-seo with barely disguised envy, hoping he’d pass down what people had started calling the miracle of Guiding.
Every time Han-seo heard someone call it that, his skin crawled. He’d silently vowed to find the reporter who first used the phrase and make them pay.
The mechanics behind it had already been laid out in Korean research labs and shared with institutions abroad. It wasn’t some big secret. And technically, there was nothing stopping him from teaching it. So without much thought, Han-seo called over a nearby B-Class Esper and gave a live demonstration.
The hardest part was this: sensing someone else’s Guiding wave and brushing against it without mixing in his own energy. Maintaining two distinct purity levels while creating contact—that was the trick. But once he reached that point, the rest happened on its own. The Guiding would respond to his and flow exactly as he wanted.
Everyone here was experienced and capable, so getting through the initial step was easy. Some even managed to detect and make contact with external Guiding surprisingly fast.
But not a single one of them could take the next step. No one even came close to imitating it. Which wasn’t surprising—drawing in another’s Guiding energy and making it your own required exceptionally high purity. Anything even slightly below that threshold wouldn’t work.
“Are you kidding me?! How is this humanly possible?!”
All these top-tier Guides—used to being treated as prodigies their whole lives—were now banging their heads against a wall of pure, overwhelming talent. And none of them were ready to back down. Teeth gritted, they kept pushing forward.
Still jogging on a treadmill, Han-seo casually tossed aside his towel and walked over to where Mathis was practically fuming. With a smug grin, he gave another demonstration just to rub it in.
The B-Class Esper beside him looked nervous. His current Guiding purity hovered around 40%. The moment Han-seo touched him, it plummeted below 30%—and then, just as quickly, surged past 60% in a sharp, clean spike.
“See? Easy.”
“Why the hell is that even possible?!”
“Because I’m Lee Han-seo,” he said, deadpan. “Obviously.”
And you’re not. He left the second part unsaid—not out of humility, but as a bare minimum courtesy to spare their feelings. Still, after that last line, it didn’t make much of a difference.
“……”
And somewhere nearby, someone was watching him.
Watching the way Han-seo stood, effortlessly flaunting his natural-born gift like it was nothing.
It wouldn’t be long now. The person meant to sit across from him at the negotiation table… was about to reveal themselves.
