“I wasn’t actually a Field Guide to begin with.”
Picking up the wooden sword Ho-eun had dropped, Bae Yeon-woo gave it a casual swing.
“Even after my internship, I couldn’t get used to being a Guide. Neither office work nor fieldwork suited me.”
Despite swinging the wooden sword so lightly, Bae Yeon-woo’s form was immaculate—like someone who’d been handling it for years.
“So I worked at the Guiding Center. It was busy enough that I didn’t have time to think about anything else, and when I had to face Espers, it was only for brief moments.”
His voice carried a flat tone, like he was talking about someone else entirely.
To Ho-eun, Bae Yeon-woo had always seemed like someone who’d started out as a Field Guide despite disliking Espers.
His youthful looks and smooth handling of work made him seem more competent than even Hosoo, who carried the title of Deputy Section Chief.
Whenever Bae Yeon-woo spoke, he gave off the impression of someone with years of experience in the field.
“But you know what they say—time heals. After about a year, I started to get better.”
He gazed up at the ceiling as if something had come to mind.
“When my head cleared, I guess I wanted to change something about myself. Without much thought, I applied for a field position.”
His brows knit together slightly as he gave a bitter smile.
“Ah. I wasn’t planning to go into all this old stuff.”
“…Um, Assistant Manager, if it’s hard to talk about, you don’t have to—”
“It’s fine. It’s all in the past now.”
Ho-eun shut his mouth again at Bae Yeon-woo’s firm tone.
“There are some Espers out there obsessed with forming Imprints. Those guys target inexperienced Guides who haven’t been out in the world much—makes it easier to get an imprint to stick.”
“Imprint?”
“Yeah. When an Esper forms an Imprint with a Guide, their resonance stabilizes. And if the Guide is higher-ranked, the Esper’s Ability rank can go up too.”
Still unfamiliar with how Imprints worked, Ho-eun found himself drawn into the story without realizing it.
“Most Espers who try to force an Imprint end up humiliating themselves and getting blacklisted. But sometimes, it’s the Guide who ends up ruined.”
With a sharp swing, the wooden sword Bae Yeon-woo brought down couldn’t even withstand the air resistance—it snapped clean in two.
“There are cases where the Guide is the one who gets shamed and buried.”
Watching the sword break so cleanly in half, Ho-eun swallowed hard.
“That’s Eom Seong-chan.”
“Team Leader Eom Seong-chan?”
Bae Yeon-woo’s clenched teeth made an audible grinding sound, as if he were forcing down his anger.
“There’s only one family in Korea where Espers awaken generation after generation. That’s the Eom family—his family.”
“His family?”
“They’ve produced Espers for four generations now.”
Four generations? This wasn’t a famous noodle shop—it was an Esper lineage.
Seeing Ho-eun’s dumbfounded expression, Bae Yeon-woo let out a deflated sigh.
“Yeah. That family’s on their fourth Esper. So the Esper Corporation holds them in high regard. That talentless bastard got into HR purely on bloodline.”
Because the HR Department handled the initial induction of Guides and Espers, it had the image of being an elite group.
Except for one person—Eom Seong-chan.
“Officially, he’s a C-Class Esper. Not that rank necessarily determines promotion to Team Leader. But HR is supposed to be staffed with B-Class and above, both Espers and Guides.”
“No wonder he didn’t seem to fit.”
Though Eom Seong-chan had never shown off his Ability, his actions and speech were laced with insecurity.
Ho-eun recalled the unnecessarily loud voice, the cursing, the aggressive gestures.
“Since his rank was low, he tried to seduce a high-ranking rookie Guide to Imprint with. When that didn’t work out, he started spreading disgusting rumors.”
Thinking back to how Bae Yeon-woo had been so tense during their visit to HQ, Ho-eun continued listening quietly.
“Well, you’re technically a rookie Guide, too. Low-ranked, yeah, but still new. That guy might start sniffing around you, so be careful.”
As warnings went, it was hollow—like he was deliberately leaving something unsaid.
Ho-eun was curious about what Bae Yeon-woo wasn’t saying, but if this was as much as he was willing to share, it would have to do for now.
“Thanks for telling me.”
“Yeah. Once you’re done with the wooden sword, let’s move on to short blades.”
Watching Ho-eun’s reaction carefully, Bae Yeon-woo handed him a new wooden sword.
***
Exhausted, Ho-eun returned to the dorm and took a shower before soaking in the tub.
As the weather grew colder, half-body baths were becoming a favorite ritual.
Leaning back in the warm water, he blinked slowly at the foggy ceiling.
“The more I think about it… something feels off.”
Recalling what Bae Yeon-woo had said, Ho-eun felt like there was a missing piece.
He blew air through his mouth underwater, watching the bubbles rise.
“Ah!”
He shot upright in the tub.
“I never did hear what really happened between Assistant Manager and Eom Seong-chan!”
As he stepped out of the hot water, the cold air brushed his skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
Drying off, Ho-eun tried to piece together the puzzle Bae Yeon-woo had started, but there was still more white space than image.
It felt like he’d just had a free sample at an ice cream shop—just enough to pique his curiosity. But digging deeper would be intrusive. So he held himself back.
Wednesday morning, midweek.
Do In-ho and Ho-eun headed to a different location than the day before.
From the outside, it looked like an ordinary fried chicken joint. But inside, it was eerily quiet.
“This the operations room for today?”
As Ho-eun looked around the empty tables, Paul gave him a small nod.
“Want a drink?”
Paul, standing by the commercial fridge, casually took out some soda and glasses with ice.
It seemed they had reserved the whole place again. He’d already set up his laptop on one of the larger tables.
Do In-ho placed the large box he was carrying onto the table.
When Kang Him-chan peeked inside and saw the mascot costumes, he looked confused.
“Ah. This must be what Assistant Manager Bae Yeon-woo was talking about yesterday.”
Paul, apparently briefed by Bae Yeon-woo, pulled out one of the costumes—a white and brown spotted dog head.
He stroked the fur a few times, looking rather pleased with the texture.
“Feels like it suits me well.”
That left just the rabbit costume in the box.
Looking at the animal costumes chosen to appeal to young children, Ho-eun felt a wave of nostalgia.
“As Bae Yeon-woo probably told you, one of us will act as the counselor, and the other two will be support wearing the mascot suits.”
Do In-ho had arrived later than Ho-eun the night before, having done something beyond making Ability Tools.
Apparently, the box of mascot gear had been his doing.
“With this, your face stays completely hidden, so you can relax, Ho-eun.”
Paul handed the rabbit costume to Ho-eun, who sat down with the oversized bunny head in his lap.
“This plan was proposed by the PR Department. We’re posing as a children’s psychological counseling center. One counselor, two assistants in mascot suits—that’s the setup for the room.”
Paul smoothly led the meeting.
“We’ll put one Esper and two Guides in the counseling room. The other Esper will remain in the control room.”
Just as Do In-ho reached for one of the mascot heads, Paul continued.
“Mr. Do In-ho, you’ll be in the control room.”
“?”
“That way, if anything happens in the counseling room, it’ll be easier for me to escape with my Ability.”
Paul’s tone was light, even friendly, as he explained his reasoning.
“Plus, your fire Ability is dangerous. If an anti-government Esper shows up, I’d run. But you’d fight, wouldn’t you? And the kids could get hurt.”
His soft-spoken delivery was almost like reading a storybook. But Do In-ho’s expression grew darker.
“The PR Department is here to capture anti-government threats.”
Gripping the mascot head, Do In-ho tugged it toward himself.
“Running isn’t our job. Fighting is.”
Then Paul snatched the head right back.
“And what if a civilian gets hurt because of that?”
Before the words had even finished leaving Paul’s mouth, Do In-ho yanked the costume back.
“There’s always the option of only beating down the anti-government ones.”
Rustle, rustle
Left, right. The dog costume head bobbed awkwardly across the table as the two tugged it back and forth.
Ho-eun froze with his hand halfway raised.
They weren’t kids fighting over toys, but the floppy dog head, caught between two grown men grabbing opposite ears, looked genuinely pitiful.
“What’s wrong with those two?”
“Beats me.”
Kang Him-chan and Ho-eun exchanged glances and shook their heads.
“How about we settle it with a game? Winner gets to participate.”
“Ho-eun, this isn’t something we should decide with a game—”
“Great idea.”
Yanking the costume head toward himself, Do In-ho nodded in agreement with Ho-eun.
Paul gave a light shrug.
“Oh! I’ve got a coin! What if we flip it—heads for Do In-ho, tails for Paul?”
“Sounds fair.”
A clean, unbiased method. Paul accepted the proposal.
“I’ll hang onto this then,” Ho-eun said, reaching out.
A flash of tension crossed Do In-ho’s face.
Reluctantly, he passed the dog costume over, his expression grim.
“Okay, flipping now!”
Kang Him-chan tossed the coin after giving it a good shake in his hand.
Clink.
The coin landed on the back of his hand, and before even the Espers could catch it with their sharp vision, he slapped his other hand over it and started rambling like an MC stalling for commercial time.
“The results are hidden beneath my hand. Will it be Do In-ho or Paul? One of these two will win the right to enter the field. After this 60-second ad—!”
“Kang Him-chan Guide? Think this is really the time for jokes?”
Paul’s usual smiling eyes narrowed sharply, a faint chill in his voice.
Startled, Kang Him-chan quickly revealed the coin.
“……!”
“…….”
Ho-eun silently handed the dog costume to Paul.
“Next time, we’ll let you go in, Mr. Do In-ho.”
Paul beamed, looking completely satisfied.
Do In-ho clenched his fists in silent frustration.
***
“Hello. I’m Director Kang Ji-an from the Children’s Psychological Counseling Center.”
Once again, Kang Him-chan’s tone shifted entirely based on his disguise.
Sounding like a warm, empathetic counselor, Kang Ji-an greeted the teachers and got down to business.
“You heard that we’d be conducting counseling sessions with third graders from Somang Elementary, right?”
“Yes, we received a call yesterday.”
“Since there are quite a few students, we won’t be able to see them all. Would it be alright if we focused on children from divorced families or those in special circumstances?”
He leaned in slightly with a charming smile. The teacher blushed.
“Yes! Of course. I’ll show you to the counseling room. But, uh… those two…”
The teacher glanced toward Paul and Kwon Ho-eun—still wearing their full mascot costumes.
