Espers are human, too—they feel fatigue just like anyone else. Especially those who haven’t received guidance suitable for their rank suffer even more. So when a wave of S-rank espers, who had never taken breaks before, suddenly announced their vacation schedules one after another, many people jumped to negative conclusions. Surely, the aftereffects of guiding deprivation had finally taken their toll on their bodies—what else could it be?
Rumors about the directors of the Association suffering health issues circulated as if they were already confirmed facts. And those who saw an opportunity in the unease began to prod at the directors, digging for any sign of weakness. But they got nothing out of it.
“Please let them know that we do not welcome pointless political maneuvering.”
Kim Min-seong silently agreed with Cha Eun-hyuk’s words. Espers should focus on subduing monsters, and the government should devote itself to devising all the measures necessary for survival. With monster attacks becoming more frequent, nothing was more crucial than everyone focusing on their respective roles.
However, the higher-ups, led by Yoo Seok-heon, thought differently.
“If espers are saving the nation from monsters, then the nation must protect its citizens from the espers. From these walking shields that could explode at any moment.”
Framing it as a precaution against a potential S-rank rampage, they issued orders to an esper intelligence agent with stealth abilities. The mission: infiltrate Joo Cheong-gyeong’s private residence and observe him. At that time, Joo Cheong-gyeong was the only director still officially on leave and absent from the Association. Like anyone else, he was bound to let his guard down in a private space. They likely believed that catching even a glimpse of him in pain from guiding deprivation would yield a valuable result.
But even after his scheduled return date had passed, there was no word from the agent. No contact. No return. Nothing. Various scenarios were considered, but two possibilities seemed most likely:
He had either been captured after a failed infiltration—or killed.
“Chairman Joo Cheong-gyeong… I don’t believe he would treat a person’s life so lightly, Assemblyman.”
Kim Min-seong dismissed the latter. Someone who risked his life to kill monsters and protect people wouldn’t commit murder.
Yoo Seok-heon, whose expression had remained hard and stiff, scoffed.
“You never know. If he considered him an enemy.”
“And I do know how to read people, you know.”
Those who are fundamentally different from the ordinary—there’s always something about them that stands out. Sure, there are those who smile kindly while stabbing you in the back, but there are also the ones who live exactly the way their cold aura suggests. As Yoo Seok-heon got older, he had become adept at sensing such people. He couldn’t say the same for the others, but Joo Cheong-gyeong and Jang Hee-gang stood out. They had a distinct value system.
They were the type who could hurt others, even if the target wasn’t a monster.
Listening to Yoo Seok-heon, Kim Min-seong frowned faintly. An uneasy anxiety crept up on him. Whether the story he’d just heard was an overblown theory or not—no one knew right now.
Whatever the case, whether it was capture or a kill, there had to be a reason. It could’ve been an intent to interrogate the agent’s affiliations and motives—or a simple, explosive rage at having his privacy violated.
Beyond that.
There was also the possibility that something which absolutely should not have been discovered had been exposed.
***
The man regained consciousness, his stomach churning as if it were about to flip inside out. The moments leading up to his blackout flashed rapidly through his mind.
He had been ordered to infiltrate Joo Cheong-gyeong’s residence, and even before setting out, he’d thought that there was a real chance this mission would end in failure. It was a rare kind of concern for him—one he wasn’t used to having.
His A-rank classification was by no means low, and his stealth ability, given the nature of his job, was perfectly suited to field operations. He hadn’t fought monsters like the Association’s espers did, but he had carried out his share of difficult assignments in other fields.
However, not once had he ever been tasked with a mission that involved someone of a higher rank than himself. The instinctive fear triggered by the powerful was a factor that significantly raised the chance of failure. Keeping that in mind, the agent made every effort to suppress his emotions and stay composed.
From the outside, the house was completely shielded by pitch-black blackout curtains on every window, making it impossible to peer inside. After scanning the overall layout of the property, he approached the most secluded window. When he applied the special solution he’d brought along, the glass began to dissolve slowly.
He slipped inside calmly and silently. After passing through what looked like a storage room, a long hallway opened up in front of him, with a view of the first floor below the banister. The interior was pitch dark—no lights at all. The heavy blackout curtains deepened the gloom. Still cloaked in stealth, he carefully approached the railing.
And then he saw it—a massive iron cage.
The sight of such a thing, situated within a spacious and lavish home, was grotesque in and of itself. It was clearly meant to contain something—or someone. The black bars of the cage added a menacing layer to the already oppressive atmosphere. Was there something inside it? A chill crawled down his spine, and the agent hesitated for a moment.
In the suffocating stillness of the space, he heard it—a faint breath. The presence of a person. He couldn’t see from his angle above, but someone appeared to be locked inside the cage.
The agent raised his goggles and took a photograph. Wanting a closer shot, he stepped onto the railing to descend—and in that fleeting moment…
‘What the hell is this?’
A cold voice spoke directly behind him—
“…Kuhhk!”
His eyes snapped open.
It felt like his brain had been smashed in. Clutching his skull, which throbbed violently like it might explode, he curled into himself like a ball. His face was bare—his goggles were gone. His suit, which held crucial equipment, had also been stripped off.
From the moment he heard that voice—presumably Joo Cheong-gyeong’s—his memory had gone completely blank.
“That’s normal,” came a voice.
That same voice spoke again. The agent, trembling, forced his aching body upright. In front of him sat Joo Cheong-gyeong, relaxed in a chair. There was no way to tell how long he had been sitting there.
Breathing heavily, the agent looked around the damp, dim space. It seemed to be a basement.
“J-Joo Cheong-gyeong…”
“I borrowed your body for a bit. Thanks to that, I got quite the show.”
The agent’s face twisted in confusion—he couldn’t make sense of what he was hearing. It sounded like Joo Cheong-gyeong had possessed him, but what did he mean by a show…?
“You’re a stealth esper, right? I remember all espers with useful abilities.”
Joo Cheong-gyeong spoke with gentle composure. The agent, stunned that he even knew him, clamped his mouth shut.
“But now that I’ve seen it, what a waste of talent. The owner’s a damn fool.”
Joo Cheong-gyeong shook his head in disapproval.
“You should’ve realized that your ability works by manipulating the target’s perception so they can’t recognize you. But tell me—would that work on someone with a stronger mental fortitude than you?”
The agent broke into a cold sweat but remained silent. He’d known from the start that failure was a real possibility. And what Joo Cheong-gyeong had just explained—he wasn’t unaware of it. Even so, he’d clung to the faint hope that maybe, if he got lucky, he’d pull it off. That naïve optimism now made him feel pathetically small.
“Hm… Well, I guess you came prepared for the worst.”
Observing the agent’s reaction, Joo Cheong-gyeong muttered, his interest seeming to wane.
“I won’t ask why you came. I already figured that out.”
He lifted an item he’d been holding in his hand all this time.
“Brought a scanner and everything.”
It was a compact, handheld device used to read an esper’s wave status upon physical contact. Not entirely accurate, but quick and simple—it was often used during battle to monitor signs of imminent berserk states.
The agent stared at the blinking device in Joo Cheong-gyeong’s hand.
Displayed on the screen in plain view:
Grade: S
Risk Level: 0
A flawless wave condition. Perfect stability.
…How?
The agent stared at it, dazed, unable to trust his own eyes. Even he, who was of a lower rank than Joo Cheong-gyeong, had never once received satisfying guiding due to the lack of a proper match. If one’s waves were even slightly unstable, it was impossible to record such perfect readings.
The device’s reading pointed to one simple truth—Joo Cheong-gyeong had received guiding suited to his exact level.
Catching a glimpse of the agent’s stunned expression, Joo Cheong-gyeong glanced down at the scanner.
“You must’ve planned to take the data with you. But if you already knew the dream was too big, why even try? Orders or not, you’ve got to learn when to play dumb.”
“…These readings… How… How is that possible?”
The agent cut in urgently, as if he hadn’t even heard Joo Cheong-gyeong’s words. The image of that iron cage flashed through his mind—the one he’d seen just before losing consciousness. And the unmistakable presence of a person inside it.
Could it be… the one trapped inside…?
“Don’t tell me… you found a guide whose rank matches yours—and you’ve been keeping them imprisoned…?”
If espers existed to protect humanity, then guides existed to supply them with stabilizing guidance. Guides were essential to maintaining an esper’s wave balance, health, and efficiency. Because of their rarity, they were often considered to be of even greater value than espers themselves.
If an S-rank guide were to appear, it would go without saying—they would instantly become a target coveted by the entire world. Other countries would do everything in their power to lure them away, while one’s own nation would spare no effort in keeping them close—whether through material temptation or psychological manipulation. Naturally, illegal forces would swarm as well. There would be those willing to confine them—locking them up in what was essentially a prison to exploit their guidance for personal gain.
Just like the person standing in front of him now.
