His hands barely had any strength, so it took quite a while just to open the recovery potion. After struggling with the cap, Lee Haru finally managed to unscrew it and took a sip.
A sharp, cooling sensation spread down his swollen throat. The heat that had been burning across his face—like burst capillaries beneath the skin—began to fade.
After a few steady breaths, the crushing fatigue that made him feel like he might collapse at any moment started to lift. He applied the potion generously to his neck and palms as well, leaving about a third of it untouched—just in case.
He shoved the vial deep into his pocket. It felt heavy, like a lifeline.
“Never thought I’d end up thinking of Hong Seong-jun as some kind of angel.”
Everything was relative.
Compared to the ruthless brutality of Black’s leader, the way Hong Seong-jun had threatened him to the point of making his wrist swell now seemed almost merciful—like someone with wings on his back.
After drinking the potion, the trembling in Lee Haru’s eyes calmed somewhat as his gaze landed on the doorknob.
He could not trust Black’s claim that what he was looking for was not behind that door. The man had acted like it did not matter one way or another if Haru opened it.
If he had truly wanted to prevent him, he would have taken further steps.
He would not have tossed him a recovery potion and left, either. He likely wanted to make sure Haru would still be usable for Guiding when he came back—but regardless of the reason, he had spared his life once again.
After a brief pause, Lee Haru got to his feet. Whether he opened the door or not, that man would treat him however he pleased.
Nearly dying must have steeled his nerves.
Lee Haru firmly gripped the doorknob. Though his strength was even weaker than before, the looseness of the handle suggested it did not have much life left in it anyway.
Clunk—
He had shaken it dozens of times before the lock finally gave out. The door creaked open feebly, revealing what had been hidden behind it, little by little.
And then Lee Haru understood why Black had said opening the door would be pointless.
“Why is there a dungeon gate… in here?”
He had only ever seen a gate once before—while sharing a feast of lobster with Yu Je-hyun, casually glancing out the window.
This one was smaller than that, but the jet-black void was unmistakably a dungeon gate—ominous and foreboding.
As far as Lee Haru knew, all uncleared dungeons were under the Association’s supervision.
Most were sealed by destroying the core within. However, some were left intact to supply mana stones and for Esper training purposes.
The existence of a dungeon gate here meant one of two things.
Either Black was secretly managing a dungeon unknown to the Association, or this place was one of the dungeons officially overseen by them.
But for a dungeon gate to be located inside a house—that ruled out the second possibility.
Which meant, with high probability, this was an unregistered gate.
“Screeeee…”
A faint sound echoed from the black void, prompting Lee Haru to shut the door immediately.
The handle was broken, so a narrow gap remained, but the writhing, ominous gate that looked ready to devour him was now out of sight.
If a monster comes out of there, I am already dead.
Silently, careful not to make a sound, he retreated to the bedroom. The moment he closed the door behind him, his body slid to the floor like water.
When he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, it was drenched in cold sweat.
“…They are worrying about me… right?”
By this point, the thought of escaping alone seemed nearly impossible.
Then again, Black’s leader was no fool. He would not have locked Haru up somewhere he could just slip away from.
He had only been wandering aimlessly, telling himself he had to at least try something…
“Why is Yu Je-hyun the first face that comes to mind? God, how pathetic.”
It was laughable. As he stared blankly into space, trying to think of any Esper who might come to save him, the first image that surfaced was that fierce, grim face.
Unconsciously, Lee Haru rubbed his lips.
The soft, warm pressure that had pressed against them came flooding back—and for a moment, he forgot everything. His face flushed a deep, vivid red.
***
“What if I acted as bait?”
In the room weighed down with tension thick enough to suffocate, Ji Yeon-woo cautiously raised his right hand.
Surprisingly, his voice was steady. Likely the result of everything he had endured.
Since the moment Lee Haru had been taken right before his eyes by Zero, Ji Yeon-woo had been living in a waking hell.
Breathing left his chest tight. Even punching himself to the point of bruises did nothing to relieve the pressure—it only made it worse.
Of everyone gathered here, Ji Yeon-woo arguably knew the most about Zero.
That was why he was present in the conference room for the emergency response meeting over Lee Haru’s abduction.
“Then that works. That bastard’s Guide used to be him anyway.”
Yu Je-hyun’s eyes glinted like he had found the perfect plan. The air around him was colder than anywhere else in the room.
The killing intent leaking off him was so intense that the others had instinctively taken seats as far from him as possible.
Just restraining the urge to destroy everything in his path was already pushing Yu Je-hyun’s patience to the limit.
“That is not possible. Just as Guide Lee Haru is invaluable, so is Guide Ji Yeon-woo. He is someone we are duty-bound to protect with our lives.”
Ji Yeon-woo’s suggestion was flatly overruled by Kang Min. Outwardly, Kang Min appeared calm, even in the wake of Lee Haru’s second abduction.
But the shadow clouding his eyes—darker than usual—hinted at the unrest simmering beneath his composed façade.
“So what are we supposed to do then? Just sit around debating theories while he’s out there? Shouldn’t we be tearing the city apart right now, searching every damn corner for where Lee Haru might be?!”
Yu Je-hyun finally erupted. When he slammed his fist onto the table, the metal surface buckled inward with a deep dent, the surrounding frame crumpling under the force.
The table—reinforced with a special alloy—was rendered useless in an instant by a single blow.
The news had come right after he finished clearing a Spontaneous Dungeon: Lee Haru had been taken.
At first, he genuinely thought it was some kind of hidden camera prank. After all, how could something like this happen again?
But the details were worse than any fiction—Black’s leader had shown up during the brief window he was away, wiped out the entire security team, and walked off with Lee Haru like it was nothing. All Yu Je-hyun could do was laugh—bitterly.
Shame. Rage. The gnawing guilt of having ignored his instincts, despite the creeping unease.
Each emotion alone was overwhelming—together, they churned inside him in a violent storm. His Rampage Risk Index had already spiked to dangerous levels during the dungeon raid, and now that emotional turmoil was bleeding into his physical state.
The only thing that brought him back from the brink was Ji Yeon-woo.
“I-I will Guide you…”
As an S-rank Guide, Ji Yeon-woo’s touch alone was enough to bring the numbers down fast, even with nothing more than a handclasp.
Physically, it felt almost refreshing—objectively soothing. But emotionally, Yu Je-hyun felt as if someone had doused him in dirty water. His body was calming down, but his mind was steeped in discomfort.
He had only accepted the Guiding for one reason—to stay in top condition and rescue Lee Haru. And yet, it felt like a betrayal. Like he had done something vile.
Even though he and Haru had only ever exchanged Guiding when needed, nothing more.
“I cannot just sit here and wait. I am going to hunt down the remnants of Black, tear through every last one of them, and drag their hideouts out into the open.”
The Association had already tortured several Black operatives and extracted a fair amount of intel. The problem was, none of them had any information about the leader.
The man had never once removed his mask in front of his subordinates. The Association did not even have enough material to put together a facial composite.
Even Ji Yeon-woo, who had practically been his personal Guide, admitted he had never seen the man’s face.
They were working with scraps of information at best. But Yu Je-hyun would rather chase shadows than sit on his hands doing nothing.
The moment Yu Je-hyun stood up, Ji Yeon-woo instinctively followed.
In the meeting room sat seven individuals: three S-rank Espers, the Association President, the Esper Center Director, the Guide Center Director, and Ji Yeon-woo.
Each person exuded overwhelming presence, making it difficult for anyone to speak casually. But Ji Yeon-woo felt that the memory that had just surfaced could not go unspoken.
“There is something I need to say…”
Kang Min, who had been resting his forehead in his hand while watching Yu Je-hyun seethe, glanced over and gave a subtle nod—go ahead.
Of everyone here, Kang Min was the one Ji Yeon-woo had spoken with most. That thin thread of familiarity gave him just enough courage to speak.
“Sometimes… the leader smelled like the ocean.”
“The ocean?”
“I grew up by the sea when I was younger. I do not know how to put it into words exactly, but… it felt like he had just come back from the beach.”
It had not happened often.
In truth, the memory only resurfaced now because during every Guiding session with the leader, Ji Yeon-woo had been consumed by fear—so much so that he had forced himself to suppress those details and forget.
