Status window. A supernatural phenomenon that emerged alongside the so-called Awakened—Espers and Guides.
This opaque screen, invisible to everyone else, offered a range of functions only the individual Awakened could see.
All of the status window’s functions are fully activated only inside a dungeon; outside, it automatically shuts down. At most, it showed basics like the Awakened’s name, rank, stats, and experience.
That was common knowledge, and since awakening, Cha-hyeon had never questioned it. He’d simply assumed that the status window only came to life inside a dungeon gate—as obvious as the sun rising in the east and seawater being salty.
And yet….
Cha-hyeon remembered the moment a notification popped up on his status window even though he was outside a dungeon.
“Pervert.”
However coddled he’d been, Ji Se-min—a dongsaeng a full ten years younger—spoke his mind to his Hyung without the slightest filter, and it was honestly pretty funny. Funny enough that Cha-hyeon burst out laughing.
He’d thought it before, but it was clear Ji Se-min believed—boldly and without doubt—that no matter what he did, Sung Cha-hyeon would still dote on him.
Haha, seriously… you amaze me.
Maybe it was because they’d slept together once, or because Se-min was the Guide he’d be tied to for life, but Cha-hyeon found himself increasingly curious about him. It didn’t seem half bad to spoil him the way he wanted and be paid back with guiding…. He was thinking that when—ding—a blue status window flickered into the air with a notification.
Just like in a dungeon, the activated screen showed a banner reading “Unclaimed Rewards List,” every entry clogged with question marks. Of course that set his curiosity ablaze.
~Unclaimed Rewards List~
➤ …??? ??…(?/?)
Unclaimed rewards, huh. Instinctively, Cha-hyeon thought of the dungeon he’d left along with his memory. He distinctly remembered receiving a dungeon clear reward, yet had no idea what the reward actually was.
Was this belated alert of that reward from back then? For those question marks to turn into words… he’d probably have to enter a dungeon, where every status window function unlocked.
That guess hardened into certainty a moment later when a “Dungeon Appearance Alert” flashed on his smartwatch.
It felt like he was being nudged by coincidence. Normally he wouldn’t waste a day off just to satisfy his curiosity, but this time it was strong enough to push aside the hassle. Of course, considering he’d walked out when he could’ve just kept teasing that yappy Ji Se-min—barking like a clueless puppy that doesn’t know to fear a tiger—and spent the day screwing him, if this turned out to be nothing, he’d be more than a little annoyed.
“Um… Esper Sung Cha-hyeon, should we have a booster ampoule ready?”
Stretching to steady a body that felt not just light but featherlight, Cha-hyeon flicked a glance at the staffer.
It was the man’s last-ditch attempt—sure that if he didn’t try, Cha-hyeon would run him ragged—but unfortunately, Cha-hyeon felt no gratitude for the gesture.
He couldn’t be bothered to explain that his condition was perfect and there was no need to fuss, so he kept it simple.
“I’m going in.”
***
At first, he figured Hyung had just stepped out for a bit. Maybe something from the convenience store had popped into his head. Or maybe he’d taken advantage of Se-min being in the bath to run the trash out.
But when more than ten minutes passed and Cha-hyeon still didn’t return, Ji Se-min started to feel uneasy. Even if he’d gone out, wasn’t it about time he came back?
He almost called, then decided it was a bit much to phone him just because he was out of sight for a moment, so he sent a message instead.
But the little number next to the simple text—“Hyung, where are you?”—didn’t disappear as time ticked by. Fifteen minutes, twenty…. He kept checking his phone, wondering when Cha-hyeon would see it, but the number stayed put.
In the end, tired of waiting, he called. Maybe Hyung had just missed the message. But despite expecting him to pick up right away, the ringing went on and on until an automated voice said he couldn’t take the call right now.
Why isn’t he answering? A jolt of worry hit him.
“…Hyung? Are you at home, maybe? Cha-hyeon Hyung?”
Even though he knew the only presence in the house was his own, he shouted. Redialing now and then, he tore through the place with compulsive thoroughness—the guest room, his room, the living room, kitchen, bathroom, Cha-hyeon’s room and the dressing room, even the terrace he rarely stepped onto because opening the screen door was a pain.
But Cha-hyeon was nowhere, and the call never connected. By the time the minute hand had made another half turn, nothing had changed.
“……”
Where did he go without a word? What was he doing that he wouldn’t pick up…. His heart thudded uncomfortably, like he’d had too much coffee. He stared blankly at the phone screen where Cha-hyeon’s name glowed red, a stack of digits piling beside it before he even realized.
He was an adult and one of the few S-class Espers in South Korea, so of course nothing was likely to happen to him—but an inexplicable, eerie anxiety made Se-min shake.
Why am I this on edge? He could be a little miffed that Hyung left without a word, but there was no reason to get this frantic…. Thinking that, he suddenly realized where the anxiety was coming from.
“He still hasn’t come back.”
Him, alone, switching on lights in a pitch-dark house.
“Guess he got called in again. Hyung’s been in bad shape lately.”
Him, assuming without question that if Cha-hyeon vanished without a word, it meant he’d gone to tackle a dungeon.
Maybe it was because of the talk about a vacation, the promise that he wouldn’t be entering any dungeons for a while. He never imagined that, this late, he wouldn’t even reach for the obvious: “Sung Cha-hyeon went to clear a gate.”
And then….
“Um, Guide Ji Se-min….”
The blood drained from his face.
“G—ah!”
Thud—thud! He lurched forward; his legs gave out and he dropped, then sprang back up. His knees and wrists hurt, but he couldn’t spare a thought for pain.
Why didn’t I think of it sooner? No—he said he wouldn’t go into any dungeons for a while. Right. No way. There’s no way…. It felt like someone was tightening fingers around his throat; breathing got harder and harder.
“S-status window. Status window!”
Since awakening as a Guide, there’d been only one function of the status window he ever used—that’s what he called up. They said every function activated inside a dungeon, but because he’d never entered one, he could only see the familiar information.
Pair Partner – Sung Cha-hyeon (S) ●
A small circle of light flared next to the name. The marker that his pair partner was inside a dungeon.
“…!”
His head spun. No. No way. Even though supernatural phenomena didn’t lie, he rejected it—said it had to be an error. Squeezing his eyes shut, he staggered toward the dressing room on jelly legs and yanked open the wardrobe by the door.
Shoving past the neatly lined Esper-issue combat suits, he checked how many pairs of boots were left.
One was missing.
“…Ha! Hah—hhaa… ugh…!”
It felt like he’d been smacked in the back of the head. His breathing went ragged; wheezing, he searched for Cha-hyeon’s duffel—the bag he always packed for the field. The hanger where he always left it was empty.
“…Huk—hah, haa….”
He tore through everywhere else it could be. Not in the dressing room, not in the study, not in Cha-hyeon’s room—the black duffel was nowhere. His head swam. Fear tipped him into hyperventilation, and tears burst out, a raw, physical reaction he couldn’t stop.
“Hyung, Cha-hyeon Hyung! Sung Cha-hyeon! Where are you! Cha-hyeon Hyung!”
He screamed himself hoarse. It was loud enough that anyone around would’ve answered, yet the house stayed silent. Blood surged to his face; he hiccupped for breath.
“Ah—hngh—aaah…!”
A sharp sting ran through his palm. Only then did he realize he was crushing his phone in his grip.
With frantic fingers, he tapped Cha-hyeon’s name again. The screen flipped to the call interface; listening to the connection tone he was sick of by now, he dug his nails into his skin. If he’d just pick up. If he’d answer like nothing happened and say he’d only stepped out for a minute. Please….
Clinging to that last shred of hope, he dialed again and again. He let it ring three or four times, hung up if no one answered, redialed, listened a bit, hung up, called again….
But even as the first digit of the missed-call count changed and changed again, Cha-hyeon never picked up.
The mechanical rhythm of calling stopped dead. Slowly, he lifted his stiff neck.
“……”
The warm, cozy home had turned into a dark, sealed chamber. He hadn’t fallen into water, yet his lungs felt blocked, and breathing was hard. Panicking, he curled in on himself and clutched his hair until his scalp hurt.
“U—hhic….”
At last, he started to sob. Terrified, he watched the memory of that nightmarish day replay in his mind with awful clarity.
‘Um, Guide Ji Se-min. I think you need to come to the site right now. The dungeon Esper Sung Cha-hyeon entered….’
