Glance. Glance. Glance.
“Ugh, how long are we supposed to just sit around? When are they actually going to give the go order?”
“……”
“I’m seriously going to die of boredom.”
“……”
Glance. Glance. Glance.
“Hey. Hey. Are you even listening to me?”
“……”
“Park Woo-jun!!”
“!!”
Park Woo-jun’s broad shoulders jolted as he flinched, eyes darting around nervously. Today was the day of the S-Class dungeon entry. They’d been gathered since the crack of dawn, waiting for over two hours now. With all the supplies and manpower involved, it made sense there were a million last-minute checks. Lee Han-seo got that. But that didn’t make the wait any less excruciating.
What really bugged him was Woo-jun’s behavior. From the moment the Assault Team had started to gather, the guy had been on edge. Constantly craning his neck, twitchy, eyes scanning every corner like something might jump out at any second. Han-seo had tried to calm him down at first, telling him to stop fidgeting because it was making everyone tense, but that clearly hadn’t worked. If anything, Woo-jun had only gotten worse—so much so that now he wasn’t even hearing what people said to him.
“Seriously, what’s your problem? What? What? What?!”
Fed up, Han-seo grabbed Woo-jun’s face with both hands and smacked his cheeks together, making a loud clap. He tugged him forward a little, and Woo-jun’s lips puffed out like jelly.
Looking deeply wronged, Woo-jun pouted like a sulking goldfish, eyebrows drooping pitifully.
“Hey. I can’t hear a damn word you’re saying. Speak up, will you?”
“Yuh… uh… Han-seo… yuh…”
Seriously? You’re so mean, Han-seo. So unfair, that’s what he was trying to say. Rolling his eyes, Han-seo chuckled and started rubbing his palms against Woo-jun’s cheeks.
“Who’s unfair, huh? Who’s the one who’s been ignoring me all this time? Want me to show you what real unfair looks like?”
“Uuh…”
Woo-jun let out a pathetic little groan, something between a whimper and a mumble. Han-seo couldn’t hold back a laugh and planted a few kisses on those plump, pouting lips.
Truth be told, there was a reason for Woo-jun’s weird behavior.
More than seventy percent of the Espers gathered for today’s mission were hyperaware of Lee Han-seo. No exaggeration.
Sure, he’d sensed something was off when they got off the helicopter, but nothing like this. After the meeting, Han-seo had gotten a little too excited during a long-overdue bout of skinship and completely lost control of his output. Even after fully guiding the Espers he touched, he still had energy to spare, and that excess leaked out as a burst of Radiation Guiding. His high-purity waves pierced right through the thin tent walls and drifted outside. Later, when he briefly left the tent to get clean sheets and fresh water, there were already a few Espers lurking nearby.
Whether they’d volunteered or been assigned, every Esper here was a seasoned combatant. These were people who knew exactly how big a difference even slight variations in Guiding could make.
For once, Park Woo-jun was actually grateful that he was an S-Class Esper—especially one ranked high in combat power. Sure, some Espers had deep, stable emotional bonds with their Bonded Pair Guides and were perfectly satisfied. But… not all of them. And there were definitely enough of the latter to set Woo-jun’s nerves on edge.
Today was no different. As more Espers gathered, they all started throwing not-so-subtle looks at Han-seo—like kids in an ice cream shop trying to sneak another sample. Han-seo, so used to being the center of attention, didn’t even bother analyzing those stares. But Woo-jun? There was no way he could just let that slide.
“Mmm… don’t wanna let go…”
“God, what’s gotten into you? You’re heavy.”
Woo-jun hunched over and buried his face into Han-seo’s neck like a clingy child. Han-seo said he was heavy, but he was smiling the whole time.
Woo-jun had been assigned to the front line of the first wave entering the dungeon. It was a logical choice—his ability let him instantly scan the interior and estimate the number of monsters. Han-seo, meanwhile, had been placed in the rear row of the third group—the one for Guides. As the highest-ranked Guide on-site, he’d been assigned the safest position. His Matching Rate with his Imprinted Esper was also the highest, which meant minimal loss in Guiding even over long distances.
“Do not leave your position. If the readings start looking sketchy, I’ll pull back and come to you, okay?”
“You realize you’ve said that like five hundred times already, right?”
“Then make it five hundred and one. I don’t care.”
It was already nerve-wracking enough entering a domestic S-Class dungeon with Han-seo. And now they had to do it in a massive live operation? Woo-jun was ready to drop dead from stress. But what choice did he have? Han-seo said he was going, and Woo-jun would always follow. He’d decided long ago that he’d remain Han-seo’s loyal, devoted boyfriend—no matter what.
“Don’t worry so much. Once we get out of here, let’s hit up the villa in Switzerland or—”
“Are you insane?!”
“What?! What now?!”
Han-seo had only been to an overseas villa once—back in kindergarten—and never since. He was just about to suggest they go together after this mission, but before he could even finish, Woo-jun suddenly jumped up and cut him off.
It was nice to see him acting more cheerful than usual, sure—but there was something about the way he mirrored Han-seo’s own overreactions that left him with an odd, uneasy feeling.
“Baby, you’ve watched enough movies and dramas to know better! How could you say something like that? The person who says stuff like that always ends up—ugh, it’s too awful to even say!”
“Wow. I don’t know if I should laugh or call you cute.”
“Hehe…”
Han-seo gave Woo-jun a few light flicks on the forehead. Not hard enough to hurt, just a gentle tap-tap—but Woo-jun grinned like he actually liked it. That’s when the next announcement hit. The dungeon entry, originally scheduled for fifteen minutes from now, had been pushed back again—this time by another twenty-five minutes. The new start time: forty minutes later.
Everyone, already geared up and standing around like scolded kids for hours, groaned in frustration. They hadn’t been allowed to bring phones either, which only added to the collective boredom. Han-seo was no exception.
“Ugh, again? Seriously? How many delays is this now?!”
“Why? If the mission starts, we’ll have to split up and go to our assigned squads. I like the delay. Don’t you? Or are you just that eager to get away from me?”
“I’m already going crazy from boredom, and now you’re trying to push my buttons?”
“I’m sorry. I’ll shut up now.”
“Seriously, though—if there’s a delay, the Ops Team should at least tell us why. What the hell is this?”
“Hmm…”
Woo-jun didn’t agree or disagree—just shifted his eyes vaguely toward the sky. That evasiveness immediately set off alarms in Han-seo’s head. He quickly reached out and grabbed the same cheeks he’d been kissing just moments ago. Smack. A little louder than before.
“Okay. What is it? You know something.”
“Mmmgh…”
“Spit it out. Not talking?”
“L-Let me go first, baby, come on. I’ll talk, I swear! D-Do you remember? Among the S-Class Espers… there was one who got called in without a Guide.”
“Oh, yeah. What was his name again? Julie? July?”
“…Julian.”
Woo-jun’s lips curled into a defeated smile. Typical—his own Guide couldn’t even remember another Esper’s name properly.
Julian Moore. A German-American S-Class Esper with electrokinesis as his primary ability. Normally, an S-Class would be assigned a Guide no matter what—but Julian had defied the norm. It had already been four years since his awakening, and he still hadn’t found even a temporary Bonded Pair.
Unlike South Korea, where Esper screening was mandatory at certain ages for the entire population, the U.S. only screened volunteers. If they hadn’t found a compatible Guide for Julian yet, it could take years more—assuming they ever did.
“He’s the main striker for today’s op, but since he doesn’t have a Guide, his condition’s unstable. His research team’s been sticking close, keeping him sedated with meds, but… ah. There he is.”
At Woo-jun’s cue, Han-seo turned his head—and immediately recoiled in shock.
“W-What the hell is that?!”
Restraints clamped tight around both arms. A heavy-duty muzzle—like something made for a giant dog. His entire body wrapped in blood-soaked bandages instead of a combat suit.
Surrounded by medics and researchers, the towering Esper was being led in like a dangerous beast on a leash, practically dragged into position. The sight was jarring. The sheer inhumanity of it—the way they treated an uncontrollable Esper without a Guide—hit Han-seo like a slap to the face.
“You said he doesn’t have a Guide. So how the hell is he supposed to fight? What if he loses control in there?”
Han-seo’s voice rose, sharp and accusing. Woo-jun took a breath, face darkening as he gave his answer—calm but cold.
“…If that happens, they’ll leave him behind and keep moving forward. That decision’s already been made.”
