“Chief, is it true? I heard an S-Class Guide from Korea is joining the joint operation.”
“Goddamn it, that wasn’t even officially announced yet. Where the hell is this info leaking from?”
“So it is true.”
“Seriously, does the Intelligence Bureau even have security protocols…?”
The second the Chief confirmed it, the agents burst into thunderous cheers. Even among S-Classes, the rarity between Espers and Guides was night and day.
There were fewer than ten S-Class Guides in existence. And two of those had long since retired—elderly men in their seventies, far removed from the frontlines. That alone spoke volumes about how rare and significant an active S-Class Guide really was.
Now, narrow it down further to those affiliated with a government and eligible for this mission? That left only three.
The UK’s S-Class Guide was still in a coma from injuries sustained in a dungeon months ago. The U.S.’s S-Class Guide didn’t pair with any one Esper—instead, he worked in a unit of five A-Class Espers. Without Lee Han-seo, this so-called “S-Class Joint Special Team” would’ve had zero S-Class Guides, which would’ve made the title feel like a joke.
But Lee Han-seo of South Korea? He wasn’t just qualified—he was a living legend. Officially recognized as an S-Class Guide at the age of six, he shattered every record imaginable: Asia’s first, the world’s youngest, and unmatched in Guiding purity. If there was a title a Guide could earn, he had it.
There’s a famous story among European Espers. A notoriously arrogant S-Class Esper from Germany was once deployed to Asia. Desperate for Guiding, he received emergency contact from Lee Han-seo. And right there, he dropped to his knees and begged the kid to become his Bonded Pair. That story still makes the rounds in Esper circles.
Even S-Class Espers who treated their own A-Class Guides like garbage crumbled when elementary schooler Lee Han-seo held their hand for just an hour—like sandcastles against a tsunami.
Sure, everyone knew he was already Imprinted. He had a Bonded Pair. But Espers were drawn to him like moths to a flame. You never knew. Maybe, just maybe, if they were lucky, they’d get to hold his hand. And if they ended up in the same dungeon together, the chances of receiving even a sliver of Radiation Guiding shot through the roof.
After South Korea officially announced the deployment of Park Woo-jun and Lee Han-seo, the Espers already stationed at the base turned into nervous wrecks, waiting like servants expecting royalty.
Most of them had never seen an S-Class Guide before. They scoured the internet daily, searching for photos of Lee Han-seo. Unfortunately, most showed him smiling politely at public events, which only inflated their fantasies further—way, way off from reality.
When news broke that Lee Han-seo had boarded a flight at Incheon Airport, dozens of Espers practically stampeded across the base, cleaning every inch like their lives depended on it. Sure, they knew he wasn’t theirs. But that didn’t stop them. At their core, Espers were desperate to impress a high-ranking Guide.
Finally, with a thunderous roar, the helicopter touched down. And the S-Class Guide they had all been waiting for stepped into view.
Someone gulped.
“What the fuck are you staring at, assholes? You think this is a fucking parade? Move your goddamn eyes before I rip them out!!”
…Well. If nothing else, he definitely had the presence of an S-Class.
***
This is better than I expected…
Lee Han-seo slurped his ice-cold lemonade, the glass packed with frozen cubes and fresh citrus. Honestly, he hadn’t expected much. The gate site was practically an uninhabited island, so he’d figured the facilities would be trash. But now, two days in, he hadn’t found a single thing to complain about.
There was no running water. No permanent buildings. Everyone was technically living in tents. But the one assigned to him and Park Woo-jun? It had a living area and two separate rooms—and it was built like a fortress. They were fully stocked with bottled water, not just for drinking but for washing too. What Lee Han-seo didn’t know was that the Espers had quietly pooled their own rations to spoil him. Not that he would’ve cared if he’d known.
Anyway, the finalized Joint Special Team had thirteen core members: seven S-Class Espers and six Guides. On top of that, ten A-Class Espers had been deployed as support by the alliance. The combined force here was overwhelming—easily one of the strongest ever assembled.
Even the A-Class Espers, brought in as backup, were top-tier talents. In most countries, they’d be the highest level of active force available. Just looking at the lineup made it clear: failure was not an option. They weren’t here to take chances—they were here to win.
While the seven S-Class Espers discussed strategy in a heated meeting, Lee Han-seo sat off to the side, sipping his lemonade and fiddling with the gear in front of him. He had no interest in keeping up with the rapid-fire English they were using—and no intention to try.
The equipment was impressive. A prototype developed jointly by the U.S. and Germany, it was clearly a step above what he’d used before.
The dungeon entry was scheduled for the day after tomorrow. He and Park Woo-jun had arrived late. They barely had time to sleep after getting off the helicopter before they were dragged into the meeting.
There was a mountain of important things to cover: formation structures based on team abilities, operation goals, emergency protocols inside the dungeon. Skipping out just because they were tired would’ve made them targets for backlash, so they had no choice but to attend.
Still, most of the heavy lifting would fall on the Espers, since they’d be the ones fighting. The Guides just needed to stay by their Bonded Pair, eat well, rest when they could, and stay ready.
Lee Han-seo had just walked back into the conference room after a full nine hours of blissful sleep, followed by a hearty breakfast and a quick workout.
The S-Class Espers gathered around the table were exchanging opinions in a calm, easygoing atmosphere. Of course, it wasn’t because they all got along so well. They all knew better than to let things get emotional—any drama between S-Classes, whether inside or outside the dungeon, could lead to serious consequences. So everyone kept their nerves tightly in check, consciously maintaining a friendly, diplomatic vibe.
What caught Han-seo off guard was Park Woo-jun. Despite his usual soft, harmless demeanor, he sat there smiling politely—only to cut down unreasonable suggestions with ice-cold precision. Just like that.
And since Han-seo’s grasp of advanced English was practically nonexistent, he had to rely entirely on context and vibes to piece together what was happening.
“Alright then, we’ll go with this final order. Everyone in agreement?”
At last, the long-ass meeting was starting to wrap up. The one acting as team lead among this powerhouse group of S-Classes was a French Healing Esper—so famous that even Han-seo had known about him for years. His reputation was legendary: if you were still breathing, he could save you. There was even a joke that if you lined up all the world leaders and elites dying to catch a glimpse of the guy’s shadow, the line would stretch halfway around the planet.
Sipping the last of his drink, Han-seo noticed the mood winding down and nudged Park Woo-jun with his elbow, shooting him a look.
What are they talking about now?
Park Woo-jun, naturally fluent in silent Han-seo-speak, leaned in.
“They just finalized the Amplifier usage order. Ideally, we won’t need it, but they’re prepping for emergencies.”
He slid over a neatly printed Korean list. Park Woo-jun’s name was dead last among the seven.
“Why are you last? Isn’t that a bad thing? What if it’s dangerous?”
“Not at all. Don’t worry.” Park Woo-jun gave a soft chuckle. “My Guiding output is the most stable. If the mission drags out, I can hold out the longest. That’s why I’m last—it’s a good thing.”
“Because of me?”
“Thanks to you,” he corrected with a warm smile. “Seriously, it’s a compliment.”
Han-seo’s lips, previously set in a bored, straight line, twitched upward. Seeing that, Park Woo-jun couldn’t help but grin back, completely disarmed.
“Should we head out too?”
“Yeah. Let’s eat first. You haven’t had anything since last night, have you?”
As they stood, Park Woo-jun continued to hold casual conversations in fluent English with the people they passed. No classes, no tutors—he’d just picked it up naturally. The way he handled small talk with that effortless grace? If that wasn’t a win for public education, what was?
Han-seo was practically vibrating with the urge to brag. Honestly, if he could, he’d show off his hot, smart boyfriend like a damn trophy to everyone they passed.
What he didn’t realize, however, was that most of those “casual conversations” were actually Woo-jun fending off yet another eager Esper, trying to squeeze in even a sliver of connection with the infamous S-Class Guide.
Eyes gleaming, Han-seo tilted his head and gazed up at Woo-jun, who’d just politely but firmly shut another one down.
“What?” Park Woo-jun glanced down at him, flustered. “You’re staring like you’re about to burn a hole in my face, baby.”
“You know your voice drops when you speak English?”
“Does it? I hadn’t noticed.”
“Yeah. It’s hot as hell. Try it in bed sometime.”
“…”
It was a miracle they didn’t hear an audible pop from how fast Park Woo-jun’s face turned crimson.
