“The test is finished. Once the barrier disappears, you can get up slowly.”
Nabin’s eyes lingered on the shimmering veil of light, rippling with colors before fading back into transparency. At the examiner’s words, he prepared to rise. Moments later, the film surrounding the machine dissolved.
He stepped down and took the seat Lee Jun indicated. He’d gone through this procedure before, so there was nothing unfamiliar about it, yet a strangely heavy air pressed down over the Measurement Division.
Lee Jun glanced at him briefly, then said nothing more. Even as Nabin sat across from him waiting, he remained silent, his gaze fixed on the monitor filled with readings Nabin couldn’t begin to understand.
The levity usually present in his face was gone, leaving behind only a sharp, cool severity. His eyes combed over the results with a scrutiny that seemed keener than usual, searching for something he might have overlooked. In the past, the readings had come out instantly. Lee Jun would simply announce that nothing was wrong and tell him he was free to leave.
But today, the expected words never came. Instead, Lee Jun’s expression grew darker, his silence stretching on until unease crawled up Nabin’s spine. He bit his lip, bracing himself against the bad feeling, when Lee Jun finally spoke.
“…Guide Kim Nabin.”
The man who had always kept a professional distance, neither warm nor cold, now looked at him with eyes heavy with pity. If a gaze carried weight, then his was a burden of iron, somber and crushing.
In that moment, Nabin felt like a criminal awaiting judgment before the bench. His eyes stayed fixed on Lee Jun’s mouth, trembling slightly as the other man searched for words. He bit down harder on his lip, tasting the sting of pain, but what shook him more was the incomprehensible pity in Lee Jun’s expression.
“Have you ever heard of an illness called ‘Mana Depletion Syndrome’?”
“…Ah.”
Yes, he’d heard of it. Mana Depletion Syndrome—an illness that struck only Guides.
Back when he’d worked in illegal Guiding parlors, clients sometimes joked that if he ever came down with it, he should come find them.
Dealing with countless Espers day after day, they probably assumed it was only a matter of time.
Most illegal Guides were like him, D-rank. In the Guiding world, D-rank was little better than an ordinary civilian, but unlike ordinary people, they still possessed enough mana to Guide Espers. That alone gave Nabin value.
Those who knew this, and who also knew exactly what kind of man Kim Minsu was, would slip him crude jokes along with business cards or notes scribbled with names and numbers.
None of those cards survived long. Kim Minsu tore them up the moment he found them.
Still, the words had stuck with him. The phrase Mana Depletion Syndrome etched itself into his memory, enough that once, behind Kim Minsu’s back, he’d dared to ask Mangchi what it meant.
“Ahjussi… w-what’s Mana Depletion Syndrome?”
Mangchi had looked at him then as though he were the most pitiful boy alive. After several heavy sighs, he gave him the truth he’d wanted.
“It’s a disease Guides get. Just like it sounds—their mana runs out. Drains until nothing’s left.”
When Nabin had heard that, he’d wished for it desperately. If his Guiding mana dried up, he’d never have to scream beneath nameless Espers again.
“Kid, cut it out. Even if you got that disease, the boss would never let you go.”
His brief flicker of hope shattered. Mangchi was right. Even if he fell ill, Kim Minsu would never release him. The man’s obsession was so twisted he wouldn’t let go even in death.
After that, whenever anyone mentioned Mana Depletion Syndrome, he forced himself to forget it the instant it was spoken. He had learned too young that false hope wasn’t salvation—it was only another path to despair.
So why now… why was that cursed word rising again, spilling from Lee Jun’s mouth?
“…I believe you’ve developed Mana Depletion Syndrome, Guide Kim Nabin. And your condition has already advanced to a severe stage.”
At those words, Nabin couldn’t even breathe. His vision flashed white as a storm of questions crashed through his mind.
If he had Mana Depletion Syndrome… if the Center Director found out… no, if the S-rank Espers discovered it… what would become of him?
“I checked several times, but the numbers are bad. At this rate, your Guiding mana will likely vanish completely in the near future. Normally, the illness progresses slowly—either the mana gradually converges toward zero, or the total pool shrinks and the Guide’s rank drops. But in your case… you’re simply unlucky.”
That final phrase hit like a bucket of ice water, shocking him back to awareness.
An unlucky case.
How many lucky moments had there really been in his life? So few he could count them on one hand.
Being born his father’s son. Meeting Mr. Kim while working as a miner with Uncle Mangchi’s help. Surviving death thanks to Esper Lee Hayan, who had even given him the pendant. Being rescued from the parlor and meeting Esper Kim Su-hyun. Even as a D-rank Guide, being useful enough that his mother could receive treatment in a proper facility.
No… looking back, perhaps he’d been luckier than he realized. They said a person’s lifetime held only so much fortune, and perhaps he’d already spent it all.
Like a criminal before the judge awaiting his final sentence, Nabin stayed silent. He had no defense left. If fate was written, then his life was only reaching its last page.
“…Guide Kim Nabin.”
Lee Jun’s expression softened briefly, but he couldn’t tear his eyes from the young man’s gaze—once bright, now extinguished.
Working at the Center meant seeing all sorts of cases, meeting all sorts of people. Normally, Lee Jun had little interest in others; his own work drained him enough each day.
So he’d never paid Nabin much mind, despite the attention others at the Center gave him. Still, he wasn’t deaf. He knew exactly what kind of life the young man was enduring.
If the Director learned he had Mana Depletion Syndrome—and that it was advanced enough that his mana could vanish completely—then all support directed to him would be cut off at once.
The staff were loose-lipped, and nearly everyone at the Center knew the treatment Nabin suffered in the mansion of the S-rank Espers.
Since Kim Su-hyun, the only Esper who had been kind to him, had died on assignment in America, the staff who had taken his place in visiting the mansion had exaggerated what they saw, spreading stories like wildfire until they reached even Lee Jun’s ears.
Though his Match Rate with the S-rank Espers was unusually high, keeping him as their dedicated Guide despite being D-rank, that arrangement could end any day now.
Lee Jun suspected the only reason Nabin endured was for his mother’s sake. But once he lost his use, the Director would sever her treatment and support without hesitation.
Could this Guide survive that?
If Lee Jun risked concealing the results, he might buy Nabin a little time. But risking his own life for a pitiful Guide wasn’t an option. His own survival mattered more.
Get a grip, Lee Jun. Don’t let pity get to you.
He shook off the dangerous sympathy and snapped his fingers in front of Nabin’s face.
The faint sound seemed to work; the vacant eyes regained a flicker of focus. It was faint and clouded, but it was something.
“Before long, the Center will send someone to discuss this. You’re under the Director’s special watch, so these results will be reported to him by tomorrow at the latest.”
With that blunt truth, Lee Jun had delivered a death sentence.
Nabin knew the Director well. The moment he learned of the diagnosis, he would sever his mother’s support and treatment without hesitation.
Nabin had savings, but if he and his mother were cast out, it wouldn’t last long. A few months at best. Even affording a shabby facility like before would be a struggle.
And without his Guiding ability, he couldn’t return to illegal work. His body was far too weakened now to endure the brutal labor of mining again.
