“Sorry for teasing you. But you’re just too fun to watch.”
“Right? Normally, when it’s just us, all we do is talk crap about the Center Director. But with someone new around, it’s actually refreshing.”
“Want to put this on your face?”
Someone kindly pulled a cold drink from the fridge and held it out. Lee Tae-rim gave a polite nod and pressed the chilled bottle to his cheek. He was a little flustered, but honestly, he liked the atmosphere here. If transferring were an option, he’d do it in a heartbeat. Anywhere that didn’t constantly compare him to Choi Jiwoon sounded like heaven.
Seon Juho had left the Guiding Room all smiles and answered questions like a pro, but he was still clearly sulking. How the hell am I supposed to make that up to him? Just thinking about it gave Tae-rim a headache. But at the same time, he found himself smiling. So Seon Juho does know how to act mature sometimes. Thinking back on that side of him made Tae-rim feel oddly proud.
“Yeah, you can definitely feel the difference with someone in their twenties. There’s this fresh energy.”
“Right? Everyone here’s basically a middle-aged guy… But District 1 has a bunch of young Espers, doesn’t it? Our youngest S-rank is twenty-seven. So there’s no one cute, no one with that fresh charm… sigh.”
“A lot of people come here to build experience, but once they’ve had enough, they all move to safer posts. Only the ones with nowhere else to go stick around. You don’t have night shifts in District 1, right?”
“S-ranks don’t do night shifts at all. I think A-ranks and below just take turns standing guard…”
“Wow, that’s insane. For us, unless we’re rotating back to the Center for rest, we basically live in the field. That’s why we call the field dorm the ‘Second Center.’ Over half of our combat personnel stay there.”
“Wait, so at night a different team comes in?”
“Exactly. When we clock out, the next shift takes over. We work in three eight-hour shifts.”
“……”
The reality was more intense than Tae-rim had imagined. District 1 didn’t deal with S-rank monsters, so the defense barriers kept things under control, and S-ranks could rest at night. A-ranks and below took shifts on watch, but honestly, even that wasn’t necessary—it was that safe.
Wow, I’ve really been complaining from a cushy spot, Tae-rim thought, relieved he hadn’t said anything about wanting to transfer.
“Usually, that’s how it goes. But if a bunch of S-rank Gates open all at once, forget rotations—we all get mobilized. Sometimes ten Gates can open in a single night. If it’s ten or fewer, we manage. But once it goes over thirteen, we have to call for reinforcements.”
“Honestly, even ten is pure chaos. That’s why I keep begging for a transfer, but the damn Center Director keeps rejecting my requests…”
“Ugh… that guy. He’s the spawn of hell.”
“Still, it’s tough for S-rank Guides to transfer no matter what district you’re in. I gave up. These days, I just cope by cursing out the Director.”
“Wow… you guys are seriously incredible.”
Tae-rim couldn’t help but clap. He shook his head as he applauded.
“Here I was whining about how tough external expeditions are… I need to reflect on that.”
“Oh! So you’re the S-rank Guide from District 1 who gets sent out on expeditions?”
“Whaaat~! I heard someone scored perfect marks in every training program. That was you?”
“Ah, yeah… that’s me.”
“Whoa… be careful, Guide Lee Tae-rim. The Center Directors from Districts 3 and 4 have been eyeing you big time because of that.”
“Wait, seriously? I hate expeditions. I’d rather be drowning in paperwork. Anything’s better than being stuck out there.”
“Yeah, expeditions really suck. Doing absolutely nothing all day is a kind of torture…”
“Wait—are we even allowed to say that?”
“Of course. Even A-rank Guides get sent out. You just need the minimum passing score in training. Isn’t it just you from District 1?”
“Yeah… I don’t go out often, but I really can’t stand it.”
“Totally get it. We hate it too—it’s brutal.”
Honestly, if all they asked was for you to sit and meditate, that’d be fine. But you had to stay in a constant state of high alert all day, which was pure psychological torture. Tae-rim was thrilled to finally meet people who understood just how miserable it was.
“Then you must be pretty good in a fight?”
“I’ve never actually fought, so I wouldn’t know. I did some basic martial arts training, but most of our drills focus on firearms.”
“Yeah, that makes sense. I mean, how often would a Guide be fighting? I’ve had a few emergency situations during expeditions, but the barrier blocked everything, and the Esper took care of the monster before I even had time to be scared.”
“Same here.”
“I haven’t even seen a monster’s shadow yet.”
“Same for me… haha.”
Honestly, since becoming Lee Tae-rim, he’d only been on one expedition. And after that, it never came up again. With the government focusing on wiping out Molt, retired Espers were still handling most external exploration.
He wasn’t sure if any major discoveries had come from it, but for now, Tae-rim was just relieved he didn’t have to go.
“It’s kind of nice that retired Espers are handling it now, right?”
“I feel a little guilty saying it, but yeah. I know expeditions are important, but physical and mental stamina are two very different things.”
“Totally agree.”
Chatting had made the time fly. Things were hectic, sure, but at least he wouldn’t have to worry about being bored.
Even at night, District 4 was bright. They said hunting continued after dark, and the floodlights mounted on the outer walls were so intense it was hard to look at them directly. Espers relied on those lights—and their enhanced senses—to track and hunt. One thing was certain: this place was serious about training.
Since Seon Juho was only here on temporary assignment, he didn’t get off work until 10 p.m. Because of that, Tae-rim ended up staying late too and had the chance to meet some Guides from the other shifts. Everyone he met was genuinely nice. Then again, considering they spent all day working side by side, keeping things friendly was in everyone’s best interest. It was a stark contrast to District 1, where people had more time to themselves.
“How was night duty?”
“Eh, it was fine.”
“Still mad at me?”
“You were really mean, hyung.”
They weren’t exaggerating when they called the field dorm the “Second Center.” The scale was on a whole other level from District 1. There, the dorms were more like hotels—just a place to rest. But District 4’s dorms were the real deal. Towering buildings stretched high into the air, and the whole complex was massive.
As guests, Tae-rim and Seon Juho were assigned a room in the central building. Inside, it looked just like a hotel—no different from the accommodations back in District 1.
“Damn, this place is something else.”
Technically it was still a dorm room, but since both of them were S-ranks, they’d clearly been given something on par with a suite. They were high up too—the lights along the outer wall sparkled even from this distance, and the view was strangely mesmerizing.
“Feels like we’re actually staying at a hotel.”
It wasn’t exactly what you’d call a skyline, but there was plenty to look at. Even past 10 p.m., people were moving around outside as if it were broad daylight. With three rotating shifts, time of day didn’t really matter. Quietly, Tae-rim let go of any lingering thoughts about transferring.
While Tae-rim stood by the window, taking in the view, Seon Juho remained on the couch, still sulking. Tae-rim chuckled softly and walked over. Seon Juho turned his head away with a little huff.
Tae-rim couldn’t blame him. He’d definitely gone too far earlier. Even he hadn’t expected to react so harshly. It was probably the tension of being around unfamiliar faces, but still—he had crossed a line. And the worst part was, Seon Juho had seen it all up close. There was no excusing that.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap like that. I surprised myself too.”
“That’s how you really feel, though. I know it.”
“Okay… you’re not wrong.”
It felt like he could almost see droopy dog ears hanging over Seon Juho’s head. Tae-rim sat down beside him.
“So? What do you want me to do to make it up to you?”
His shoulders gave a small twitch—yep, he definitely wanted something. A kiss? Or maybe… let him lick his neck? Whatever it was, Tae-rim had already decided he’d go along with it.
Just then, the doorbell rang. Tae-rim got up, opened the door, and received two hefty meal sets—high-end, eight-tiered lunch boxes.
“Let’s eat and talk.”
He placed the boxes on the table. Seon Juho quietly took a seat and began eating, sneaking glances at Tae-rim every now and then, clearly deep in thought. Tae-rim had already made up his mind—whatever Seon Juho wanted to say, he’d listen. This time, Tae-rim had clearly been in the wrong.
After the meal, Seon Juho took the empty containers out, then returned and stood in front of him. His face was filled with resolve.
“I want a forgiveness voucher.”
“Huh?”
“One free pass. So no matter what I do, you’ll forgive me.”
Tae-rim blinked in surprise.
“Did you do something I should know about?”
“N-No, but you never know what might happen.”
The sudden request caught him off guard, but Tae-rim eventually nodded.
“Alright.”
If that’s what it took to make things right, he didn’t mind. Part of him wondered what Seon Juho might be planning that he needed advance forgiveness for—but unless it was something extreme, like forcing himself on Tae-rim, there probably wasn’t much he’d get truly upset about.
“You really have to forgive me. No matter what I do!”
“Okay, okay. But why are you being so dramatic about it? Wait a sec… don’t tell me—you’re a Molt spy, aren’t you?”
“No! Absolutely not!”
“Then… are you planning to jump me or something?”
