Lee Han-seo’s inexplicable, burning desire—where it had begun and what kind of future it would eventually lead to—was something Park Woo-jun had always understood. That’s exactly why he let this absurd, irrational situation play out without stopping it.
In this world, the life of an Esper was like a candle flickering in the wind—always one breath away from being snuffed out. Even Park Woo-jun, who was holding Lee Han-seo tightly in his arms right now, could easily fail to return from his next mission alive, and it wouldn’t be surprising in the slightest. So to divide Lee Han-seo, even partially, for the sake of a fragile future that might end any day now? To yield even a sliver of him to someone else? That was something Park Woo-jun could never allow.
“Shh… It’s okay. Don’t cry.”
Even so, Park Woo-jun comforted him gently, his voice soft, his touch overflowing with affection. If Lee Han-seo wished it, there was nothing Park Woo-jun wouldn’t do—not even if it meant tearing himself apart with his own hands. It was the all-powerful expression of a pure, obsessive love. Fortunately, endurance was something he had a knack for.
If what Han-seo wanted was a future together with Park Woo-jun, and if what Julian Moore wanted had nothing to do with Han-seo himself but was simply about receiving Guiding—then Park Woo-jun could endure it. The idea of Han-seo regularly Guiding someone else felt worse than death, but even so… he didn’t want to deny Han-seo’s wishes. He didn’t want to break that will either.
“So, what was high school like? You know in dramas, how they show kids leaving when it’s pitch black out—was it really like that? Did you guys really have lunch and dinner both at school?”
Han-seo’s eyes had sparkled with wonder as he dreamed of the outside world he’d never experienced, his voice full of eager curiosity. That face was still vivid, like it had happened just yesterday.
He might’ve seemed stubborn and reckless at times, but when it came to major decisions about his life, Lee Han-seo had never truly been free to choose anything for himself. If there was one exception, it might be the time he rejected becoming Ryu Ho-yeon’s Bonded Pair and reached for Park Woo-jun’s hand instead. But even that had been a struggle within permitted boundaries—not a full escape, not a leap toward the place he truly desired.
This deployment was no different. From what he’d heard through conversations with other Espers here, none of the other Bonded Pairs had ever received such an aggressively predetermined proposal like the one forced onto Han-seo and Woo-jun. It was likely because they’d already brought Julian Moore, relying solely on Han-seo’s Guiding from the start.
Not long after Han-seo and Woo-jun arrived in Berlin, South Korea was selected as a non-permanent member of the UN Security Council. Word had it that even the restriction against consecutive terms had been ignored, and they’d secured at least six years of tenure—an unusually credible rumor, considering the source. The timing was far too convenient to chalk up to coincidence.
On the surface, the United Nations—charged with global peace and security—and the International Esper Alliance—tasked with Esper management and dungeon control—seemed like two entirely separate organizations. But dig just a little deeper, and it became clear they were anything but independent.
And once again, as always, Han-seo was forced into a decision—not because of his own desires, but for the sake of the country. Just because his Guiding was stronger than others.
If what Han-seo longed for more than anything was true, unwavering freedom—if he genuinely desired to live beneath that sky of freedom, with Park Woo-jun by his side—then Park Woo-jun was willing to be the tool that helped him reach it, even if it meant being used up completely.
But that was the limit.
There were no signs of it yet, but if someday some clueless outsider dared to reach for Han-seo’s heart—then Park Woo-jun wouldn’t just sit back and watch.
***
“Charlotte. Why do you look so down? Did something happen?”
“……”
It was right after they had successfully closed an U-Class Dungeon in Northern Europe in just three weeks. Unlike last time, there was no need to search for survivors or retrieve early casualties, which had drastically reduced the mission time—an undeniably positive result. The team had only run two missions together before, but as they pushed deeper into the dungeon, they gradually began adapting to each other’s skills and fighting styles. Most importantly, Julian—finally freed from chronic Guiding deprivation—was soaring through the battlefield like it was nothing.
In this cozy wave of optimism, both the U-Class special ops team and the global audience closely watching them finally let out a collective sigh of relief. For once, everything seemed to be going right.
But among the team members—who should have been celebrating—someone had looked like the world was ending since the afternoon before.
“Oh, Simon… Mathis…”
It was Charlotte—the S-Class Esper with physical enhancement abilities who’d played a major role in protecting Julian and Park Woo-jun during the assault.
Simon, who had gathered the group to brainstorm a more structured training program while they waited for their next assignment, had greeted her out of habit. But when Charlotte looked like she might burst into tears at any moment, he couldn’t hide his surprise, glancing around awkwardly. She, who could crush a monster’s skull with her bare hands and still keep smiling, was now showing a side no one had ever seen before—and it left them all at a loss.
No one knew the reason. A few teammates who were close to Charlotte had tried approaching her gently to offer comfort, but the sorrow etched across her face only deepened. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk—she simply couldn’t. The tears choking her made it impossible to even move her lips.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
“Charlotte! Are you in here? Charlotte!!”
The sudden pounding on the door shattered the silence as the conference room of the U-Class task force swung open. Bursting in, pale-faced and frantic, was Sarah—an A-Class Guide affiliated with the Alliance. She had gotten to know Lee Han-seo fairly well during their first Ultra-Class Dungeon mission together.
Charlotte, startled by Sarah’s near-scream, froze on the spot, her tears abruptly stopping. She looked as if she’d forgotten how to breathe. Her wide eyes stared directly at Sarah, filled with desperate hope. But the words that came out of Sarah’s mouth were not the ones she was hoping to hear.
“Charlotte… Claire… Claire is…”
“……”
“…Claire is dead.”
“……”
“My condolences. Command said if you want to go see her, you’re free to take the time.”
The vague mystery surrounding the strange mood was finally starting to make sense. The Claire Sarah mentioned could only be Claire Turner, the S-Class Guide from the UK. Everyone in that room knew her story—how she’d been critically injured in a dungeon six months ago and had remained in a coma ever since, with no signs of recovery.
If they’d only now received confirmation of her death, it made sense why Sarah had seemed off since the day before. Claire’s condition must have rapidly declined.
The team could only watch in silence as Charlotte rose to her feet like a ghost, lifeless and pale, and shuffled wordlessly out of the meeting room. They figured she must have been close to Claire—clearly grieving someone she’d known well. Their hearts ached with sympathy.
Sarah, still sitting with a heavy look on her face, waited until Charlotte’s figure disappeared down the corridor before speaking again in a hushed, cautious tone.
“There’s something I thought you should know. Claire and Charlotte were twin sisters. After their parents divorced, Claire took their mother’s surname, which is why it wasn’t widely known. It’s no wonder she’s so devastated. Even after she comes back… please look after her.”
“We will, Sarah. Thanks for telling us. Don’t worry.”
Everyone knew it—human lives couldn’t be measured or weighed against one another. But still, in a world where every Guide was already a rarity, the death of an S-Class Guide was a staggering loss. Now that Claire Turner was gone, only six S-Class Guides remained in the entire world.
Without realizing it, Park Woo-jun tightened his grip on Lee Han-seo’s hand beside him.
The decision had already been made, but even so… maybe he’d been right to insist on keeping Han-seo out of combat no matter how much he wanted to fight. The death of a young Guide—not even forty—sent a cold shiver straight down his spine.
Sensing his unease, Han-seo leaned his head against Park Woo-jun’s shoulder, gently patting his back as if to calm him. Woo-jun wrapped his arms around Han-seo and held him close, struggling to steady the pounding of his heart.
“……”
And from the far side of the room, someone was watching them—gaze unguarded, raw with envy, locked onto them like it hurt just to look.
