Min Yu-hyun’s irritation spiked the instant he laid eyes on Beom Do-il, whose lips were jutting out like a sulky child’s. The cameras were obviously rolling, and yet the idiot couldn’t even manage a proper expression. How was he supposed to film a whole week of broadcasts with someone like this?
An A-rank Esper had somehow landed a partnership with an S-rank Guide, and yet instead of showing even a shred of gratitude, the fool kept muttering to himself about a “red ball.”
“No, but why…? It was definitely a red ball… Did I see the color wrong? No, it was red! How could this even happen…?”
“Esper Beom Do-il.”
Regardless, the cameras were still rolling, and now that they were officially paired, Yu-hyun had no choice but to secure screen time, no matter how annoyed he was.
He forced a pleasant expression, extended his hand, and said,
“Let’s work well together this week.”
Do-il stared at his hand, then raised his gaze slowly to Yu-hyun’s face. He stared so long that Yu-hyun’s outstretched hand began to feel absurd.
Finally, unable to endure the awkward pause, Yu-hyun snapped, calling for a cut and telling the camera director to scrap the take and start fresh. Just then, Do-il cautiously asked,
“Um… This isn’t a hidden-camera prank, right…?”
Yu-hyun couldn’t for the life of him understand why this guy had been cast as a fixed member in the crucial first episode of the revamped PairBorn. Did he really have some kind of charm—enough to bump out S-rank Esper Moon Jung-woo?
Then again, it had been Hyun Tae-oh who’d cut Moon Jung-woo and Guide Joo Baek-hoon from the lineup and replaced them with this airhead. If anyone knew why, it was him. Still, watching Do-il’s vacant expression as he babbled about hidden cameras made Yu-hyun’s temper simmer all over again.
He chewed on his lower lip, cursing Hyun Tae-oh under his breath, while Do-il kept pestering the crew with nonsense about hidden cameras and red balls.
“This really isn’t some hidden-camera gag, right? Because it doesn’t make sense otherwise. It was a red ball, I swear. I didn’t see wrong… Ah, could we rewind the footage? Maybe I reached for the red one but accidentally grabbed the wrong ball…”
What irritated Yu-hyun even more was how badly this would affect his own image on air.
He wasn’t just another Guide. He was the unrivaled top of the First Division—the Guide every Esper lined up for, desperate to be partnered with, to receive his Guiding even once. People even hovered for a chance at small talk.
And it wasn’t only Espers.
Most Guides looked up to him with admiration and envy. Many wanted nothing more than to model their Guiding after his. Among S-ranks, his Guiding stood unmatched—not only in purity but in sheer volume of energy. He alone could stabilize waves quickly and cleanly in a single burst.
Any Esper who’d experienced his Guiding once became hooked, seeking no one else’s. That left him constantly busy, suffocated by endless requests.
Eventually it became too much, and he began Guiding only the Espers he personally selected. That led to controversy about “refusing to Guide,” but in the end, the result was the same: most Espers in the Central Bureau still hovered around, desperate for his attention.
So for an A-rank from Team 2—someone who normally wouldn’t dare approach—to act unhappy about being partnered with him? That was a problem. A serious one.
Given the situation, Yu-hyun decided he might as well make Do-il cling to him.
“Esper Beom Do-il.”
Yu-hyun put on his brightest smile.
“Yes?”
Do-il answered with a pitiful expression, as though on the verge of tears. The sight made Yu-hyun’s stomach churn with annoyance, but he forced himself to keep calm.
“Are you not happy to be my first partner?”
“Yes.”
The answer came instantly, without a flicker of hesitation. Yu-hyun’s expression hardened. He glanced at the director, checked the recording light on the camera, then turned to flash him a polite smile.
“Director, would you mind giving us a moment before the first take?”
“…Ah, but since this is a reality show, pre-discussing things might look staged…”
“Don’t worry. I’m not trying to script anything. It’s just that this A-rank—no, Esper Beom Do-il here—seems to know nothing about me. I’d like to explain a few things before we start.”
“Ah, I understand. Then I’ll step outside.”
“Thank you.”
Once the crew left, Yu-hyun dropped his mask of friendliness and looked down at Do-il.
The wretched fool gazed up at him like a scolded puppy, and oddly enough, that pathetic look snuffed out Yu-hyun’s anger in an instant.
Why the hell did such a big guy look so pitiful?
“Esper Beom Do-il.”
“Yes?”
“S-rank Guide Min Yu-hyun of the First Division. You’ve heard of me, right? Obviously—any Ability User in the Bureau who doesn’t know my name can’t call themselves an Ability User.”
“…Yes.”
“And now you realize that’s me.”
“…Yes.”
“Then you get it, don’t you? What an enormous opportunity it is for you to be my very first partner?”
“An opportunity?”
“Being shown side by side with me on national broadcast. It’ll cause a stir, and you’ll get more attention than you’ve ever dreamed of.”
“…Ah… Y-yeah…”
Do-il nodded weakly, dragging out his words. The lukewarm response made Yu-hyun frown.
“If you just follow my lead, we’ll get the most airtime out of all three teams. You know what that means? Nobody’s heard of Esper Beom Do-il before—but soon, everyone will.”
“Well… y-yeah…”
Such a halfhearted response made Yu-hyun’s face twist in irritation.
“Why’d you even come on this show? Isn’t it because you wanted popularity?”
“…Well, sure. Esper Hyun Tae-oh suggested it, and… this show is every Esper’s dream…”
“Exactly. So make the most of it.”
“……”
“From now on, wipe that dumb look off your face and do as I say. Then you’ll be the lucky Esper remembered as Min Yu-hyun’s first partner. You’ll blow up overnight.”
Yu-hyun crossed his arms, chin tilted high.
Do-il simply stared at him in vacant silence.
***
Meanwhile, Yoon Do-jae was practically bursting in front of Kang Chi-yu.
He was so happy it was hard to hide his expression, so he quickly bit his lips inward to keep them from curling up.
“First partner—it’s an honor.”
Chi-yu smiled warmly, extending his hand. Do-jae clasped it at once, shaking firmly.
The tips of his ears turned crimson, and the camera director zoomed in immediately.
“I’ll be in your care, Guide Kang Chi-yu.”
Despite his ears burning bright red, his voice came out calm, steady, almost flat. If not for that blush, no one would’ve guessed how overjoyed he was. His expression remained utterly composed, his tone without a hint of tremor.
But inside, Yoon Do-jae was overflowing with elation.
He’d never once dreamed that Kang Chi-yu would be his very first partner. At most, he thought if luck was on his side, maybe he could become Chi-yu’s second partner someday. And even that thought, fleeting as it was, had only crossed his mind earlier today.
He hadn’t prepared himself at all. It was impossible to manage his expression properly. Still, now that this miracle had fallen into his lap, he resolved to cherish it.
“Which zone were you assigned?”
Chi-yu powered on his tablet as he asked.
Do-jae slid into the seat beside him, leaving just enough space to avoid crowding him, and glanced at the screen.
“P-03 Subzone.”
“Ah.” Chi-yu let out a small sound of recognition.
That zone had originally been Hyun Tae-oh’s responsibility. After he shifted to J-Zone, three Espers were reassigned to cover P-Zone—and Do-jae was one of them.
The zone had long been notorious for its difficulty. Even when he’d filmed with Tae-oh there, Chi-yu had worried about it, though things had worked out then. Now, it seemed he was destined to end up supporting P-Zone again.
“Ten beasts to subjugate, then Ridune collection,” Chi-yu read aloud, tilting his head.
“They’re doing Ridune collection too?”
“Ah, that’s probably for show.”
Do-jae tilted his chin toward the nearby camera.
“The public loves Ridune collection scenes. The method’s unusual—and beautiful.”
“Ahh.” Chi-yu nodded.
Ridune harvesting did carry a strange, almost fantastical beauty.
Unlike normal ore mining, Ridune was collected through an Esper’s wave energy. When harvested, it gleamed in the very color of the Esper’s wave.
Just as each Esper’s wave had its own unique hue, so too did the Ridune they produced. People especially adored the pieces collected by wind-attribute Espers.
Their energy was nearly transparent, creating Ridune as clear and dazzling as diamonds.
“I see. Then since you’re wind-attribute, Esper Yoon Do-jae, your Ridune must be the most sought after.”
Chi-yu nodded thoughtfully as he spoke.
“Not necessarily. Esper Hyun Tae-oh’s Ridune is still considered the finest—that was proven at auction two years ago.”
“Ahh.”
Unlike most Espers, who carried one or two attributes, Hyun Tae-oh possessed an extraordinary number.
His wave colors weren’t limited to one or two shades, but a whole spectrum, layered together. The Ridune he produced reflected that complexity—hues not quite rainbow, not quite pastel, but richer, deeper, blended in delicate harmony.
One might think, Who cares what color Ridune is, when it’s just an energy source? But Ridune was also cut and polished as ornaments, and those produced from Tae-oh’s waves were exceptionally prized.
He rarely harvested, too busy with beast subjugations, and because the Ridune shaped from his manifested waves were breathtakingly beautiful, whenever they appeared at auction they fetched astronomical sums.
