Recording Start
“Who, you ask? There’s Lee Jun-hyung, and Beom Do-il too….”
“Guide Lee Jun-hyung or Esper Beom Do-il aren’t exactly what I’d call friends.”
“…? If they’re not my friends, then what are they?”
When Kang Chi-yu asked with an incredulous look, Hyun Tae-oh flashed the most composed smile in the world and answered him.
“Colleagues.”
“…….”
“There’s a clear difference between a friend and a colleague, Chi-yu. A friend is… like what we did earlier in the dressing room—”
In a flash, a flustered Kang Chi-yu shot his hand out to clamp over Hyun Tae-oh’s mouth.
Normally, the guy would’ve pulled a face just from someone touching his face, but for some reason, even with Chi-yu’s hand covering his mouth, he didn’t flinch—his eyes just curved in that sly, suggestive way.
Kang Chi-yu suddenly found himself wondering: What the hell did his childhood friend eat—or go through—while he wasn’t around?
And he became painfully aware that the cameras were still rolling.
With his face flushed a deep red all the way up to his neck, Chi-yu, still holding his hand over Hyun Tae-oh’s mouth, shouted to the director.
“Please delete this part!!”
He’d been bickering with this mysteriously transformed version of Hyun Tae-oh for a while now, and before he knew it, two whole hours had flown by.
“There’s a flying-type monster in Zone J-02, so we can’t launch any drones there. Instead, we’ll attach small cameras to you both. They’re super light, practically weightless, and just clip on like a button to your collar—won’t get in the way at all.”
The director pulled out two coin-sized silver cameras from a small case and pressed the backs, wirelessly syncing them to a computer as he explained.
Monster zones were typically off-limits to civilians, and when producers or staff entered for filming, they were required to have official clearance and wear teleportation accessories provided by the Central Bureau.
These accessories, designed as necklaces, watches, or rings, condensed Esper teleportation abilities and allowed for rapid movement—and more importantly, quick and safe extraction in emergencies.
“We’re only allowed to accompany you to the authorized perimeter, so for the monster extermination footage inside, we’d really appreciate it if Guide Kang Chi-yu could assist a little.”
“Ah, what should I do exactly?”
“Usually, Guides use support skills like immobilizing or putting monsters to sleep while the Esper is fighting. May I ask which support skill you specialize in, Guide Kang?”
Despite being a civilian, the director seemed deeply familiar with the workings of Ability Users, likely due to his extensive experience filming Espers and Guides.
As Espers and Guides evolved, Guides had gained the ability to channel their stabilizing energy into support skills—specifically, Immobilization and Sleep.
Immobilization did exactly what it sounded like—locking a monster in place temporarily—while Sleep briefly induced a state of unconsciousness.
It was standard practice to assign Sleep-specialized Guides to zones with long-range monsters, and Immobilization-specialized ones to close-range monster zones.
Starting from Esper Academy, Guides would choose whichever skill suited their energy signature best and undergo in-depth training.
The origin of these skills could be traced back to Myung Jae-bok, former 7th Bureau Chief at the RISG (Research Institute for Supernatural Genetics), who invented them for Guides who’d previously been helpless behind barrier fields while Espers fought.
Myung Jae-bok, a brilliant researcher often cited as a genius among geniuses, passed away from heart disease at 52—but left behind numerous innovations still remembered today.
“Ah, I specialized in Sleep.”
“Oh, then you’ll be perfect for this mission. Zone J-02 is full of long-range flying monsters.”
“Yeah, well. I’m only a B-rank, so the duration’s short… 30 seconds max.”
“For filming purposes, that’s more than enough. Just use your skill while making sure the camera’s aimed at the Esper’s combat footage.”
“Ah, got it.”
“Esper Hyun Tae-oh’s fight footage is legendary. There’s a huge audience eager to see it in detail—it’s really precious.”
The director’s earnest tone made Chi-yu nod in agreement.
“Yes, I’ll keep that in mind.”
Besides, Hyun Tae-oh had always operated solo—never once needing a Guide’s support. Chances were, Chi-yu’s presence would be more of a hindrance than a help.
With that in mind, a new worry crept in: What if he really was just getting in the way?
He hesitated for a moment before cautiously asking,
“Am I gonna be a burden? You’ve never fought with a Guide before, right?”
Hyun Tae-oh, who had been staring at the miniature camera the director had attached, lifted his gaze to meet Chi-yu’s.
“I have.”
“…You have?”
“Yeah. I have.”
With who…?
Chi-yu wanted to ask, but the words wouldn’t come.
And it seemed Hyun Tae-oh didn’t want to elaborate either. He just returned his focus to the camera being clipped onto his jacket lapel.
Trying to forcefully delete the image of Min Yu-hyun constructing a house in his mind, Chi-yu forced a bright tone into his voice.
“Oh… right. Then where should I stand? I can’t not follow because of the filming, so I’ll position myself somewhere as out of the way as possible.”
To that, Hyun Tae-oh replied with quiet finality,
“Right next to me.”
***
J-02 Subzone was home to both flying-type and ground-type monsters.
Compared to the P-Zone, the overall number of monsters was lower, making it a relatively more manageable area. However, because of the ranged attacks from the flying-type monsters, most Espers wouldn’t even consider entering without a Sleep-specialized Guide at their side.
Of course, that kind of support skill was entirely useless to someone like Hyun Tae-oh. Unlike ordinary Guides who could immobilize or put a single monster to sleep one at a time, Tae-oh possessed the ability to paralyze multiple monsters at once and dispatch them quickly.
Which is exactly why Kang Chi-yu’s question—where he should position himself to be the least intrusive—was met with Hyun Tae-oh telling him to stay by his side.
That alone was enough to send Chi-yu’s brain into a total spiral.
“Did the crew arrive okay?”
Chi-yu, who had just been teleported to J-02 in an instant with Hyun Tae-oh’s arm around his waist, looked back toward the entrance and mumbled to himself.
Tae-oh, slipping black gloves onto his hands, replied without looking at him.
“Why are you worrying about that? How many monsters are we dealing with again?”
“Ah, hang on.”
Chi-yu pulled out his phone and opened the Bureau work app.
“Fifty. Thirty of them are flying-types. Apparently, their numbers have been increasing lately.”
Nod.
Tae-oh gave a curt nod as he flexed his now-gloved hands, the fit clearly perfect.
Those are sixty billion won apiece, if I remember right…
Chi-yu found himself staring at the gloves, recalling their astronomical value.
Those gloves, which only SS-rank Espers were authorized to wear, were specially crafted equipment that partially sealed an Esper’s power.
Up to S-rank, Espers typically had enough self-control to regulate their strength. But SS-ranks—whose power levels defied comprehension—possessed strength so immense, it existed beyond the boundaries of self-control.
One slip, and everything in their path could be obliterated without a trace. The danger of being consumed by their own power was real—and often, that descent into rampage came swiftly.
Throughout history, there hadn’t been a single SS-rank Esper capable of fully controlling their abilities.
That’s why most SS-ranks in the past were assigned multiple Guides to reduce the risk of rampage. Some had even undergone Imprinting with highly compatible Guides to stabilize themselves.
Either way, these custom-made gloves were essential for any SS-rank Esper who wielded uncontrollable power.
“But are you sure it’s okay for me to be beside you?”
Chi-yu asked as he slipped his phone back into his pocket.
“Wouldn’t it make more sense for me to stay over there and put up a barrier or something—?”
“It makes me feel safer having you next to me.”
That calmly spoken sentence sent Chi-yu’s heart hammering in his chest.
All it took was one line—“It makes me feel safer.”
And now his heart was pounding completely out of sync with his will. Ridiculous. Then again, his heart had never been immune to Hyun Tae-oh in the first place, so he let it go.
Still, not wanting Tae-oh to hear how loud it was beating, Chi-yu quietly took two steps back.
Tae-oh seemed to interpret that as a sign he was ready, and immediately cast a transparent barrier around him.
Chi-yu, who had just taken out his Guide-issue pistol and was loading it in preparation to provide combat support, startled at the sudden shield enveloping him.
“Hey! I’m here to assist, too?!”
Chi-yu shouted from within the transparent field, clearly flustered.
Tae-oh, meanwhile, generated dazzling bolts of electricity in both gloved hands. Sensing the approaching monsters, he turned his attention toward the swarming flying and ground types.
“Just stay there and film quietly.”
With that, he quickly scanned and counted the monsters—thirty flying, twenty ground—and immediately paralyzed the rest of the herd in one swift motion.
As the paralyzed monsters froze mid-motion and the rest came flying or charging in, Chi-yu followed Tae-oh’s earlier request and adjusted the mini camera on his jacket lapel, angling it slightly to better capture him on film.
Then Tae-oh activated his secondary ability—Shadow Control—to restrain the legs of the twenty ground-type monsters.
For the thirty airborne monsters launching fireballs at him, he unleashed a devastating combo of water and electric attributes, electrocuting them midair.
Thanks to his sheer power and the efficiency of his multi-target combat abilities, Hyun Tae-oh’s battles were always sharp and immaculate—no wasted motion.
The flying monsters, charred by the electricity, rained down like burning leaves.
Without a pause, Tae-oh summoned several dozen massive ice spears and hurled them at the twenty restrained ground-type monsters.
Each spear embedded itself perfectly in the monsters’ foreheads, without the slightest margin of error.
And then, in an instant, the ice inside each monster’s skull expanded and detonated.
One by one, their heads exploded, and the monsters collapsed with heavy thuds.
Just like that, all fifty monsters scheduled for disposal today were wiped out in a matter of moments.
Tae-oh turned and dispelled the protective barrier around Chi-yu.
“Did you get all that on camera?”
Normally, he only used his main skill—Electro Master—to dispatch monsters, but since Chi-yu was here and the crew was filming, he’d thrown in a few extra powers for good measure. Maybe that’s why he felt a bit worn out.
Thinking he should probably take a rampage suppressant when he got back, Tae-oh began peeling off his black gloves to prepare for teleportation.
“Let’s head back.”
