Thwip! Thud…!
An immaculately compressed blade of invisible energy ripped through the air and buried itself deep into the monster’s flesh. The creature, already half-defeated and dripping with thick, black fluid, couldn’t endure the final, precise blow. With a heavy, grinding noise, it collapsed to the ground.
“Whew…”
Lee Han-seo finally let out a shaky breath, having watched the entire fight from the rear with his heart in his throat. It wasn’t particularly unusual for a walking whale—a whale-like creature that roamed on land—to appear in coastal dungeons, but this one was on another level. It was a U-Class, after all, and the difference was clear. Most of them barely reached two meters tall, but this one was nearly the size of a five-story building. Just locating its Core had taken ages.
Once the frontline unit confirmed the monster was truly dead, the Guides began moving at once, scattering to check on their Bonded Pairs.
Han-seo quickly checked Julian first, since he’d been stationed nearby as backup and hadn’t actually joined the battle. As expected, Julian’s numbers were stable.
Practically shaking Julian’s hand off, Han-seo sprinted toward Park Woo-jun. Even from afar, he could tell something was seriously wrong.
“Woo-jun!”
He shouted his name and broke into a desperate run, his heart pounding.
What’s going on? Could he be low on Guiding? No, that doesn’t make sense—they hadn’t been active for long, and it was just one monster. Even if it was powerful, the energy expenditure shouldn’t have been that high.
While Han-seo scrambled through theories in his head, Park Woo-jun’s condition only worsened.
He was still lying atop the dead monster’s body, unable to move. One trembling hand pressed against his chest as he struggled to breathe. Even that effort looked weak—his whole body was shaking. Without taking time to regulate it, Han-seo immediately poured out Guiding at full force.
For a moment, it looked like Woo-jun was absorbing it—then the waves suddenly surged back. Guiding wave rebound. Woo-jun’s body, already at full capacity, was rejecting the surplus waves and throwing them back out.
“What’s happening? Huh? Woo-jun, come on—stay with me! Park Woo-jun!”
Han-seo had thought that pumping in enough Guiding would fix everything. But Woo-jun’s panic didn’t stop. If anything, it only got worse.
The moment he realized the voice crying out to him—cradling his head and pleading—belonged to Han-seo, he began twisting violently, trying to escape. His head snapped at odd angles, shoulders jerking uncontrollably. Hrrk, urgh, nghk, gkk… They were human sounds, technically, but the raw anguish in them felt more beast than man.
“…Woo-jun?”
It hit like a slap—silent but brutal. Han-seo stared, unable to move, as his Bonded Pair thrashed against him like he was something terrifying.
And it wasn’t a misunderstanding.
The message in Woo-jun’s movements was crystal clear: he was trying to flee. Not from some monster. Not from a trauma. But from Lee Han-seo.
Unbelievable as it was, Han-seo could feel it down to his bones.
“Calm down. It’s not a Guiding issue.”
“S-Simon. Something’s wrong with Woo-jun. Why is he like this? This can’t be happening…”
Simon, who had rushed over after recharging, tried to soothe him with his usual calm. At a subtle signal, the physical-type Espers stationed nearby moved in and pinned Woo-jun down. One of them even clamped a large hand over his mouth to stifle the tortured sounds.
“What are you doing—!”
Han-seo cried out.
“Shh. Calm down. First time seeing something like this inside a dungeon?”
“What? Wait… you mean this has happened outside before?”
“Not exactly… tch, we’ll talk later.”
Simon patted Han-seo’s shoulder gently and turned to the limp form of Woo-jun. At this point, reasoned words were useless. With the level of panic he was in, he wouldn’t register anything. The most effective method now—especially inside a dungeon—was to force nasal breathing.
Fortunately, Woo-jun’s breathing steadied fairly quickly. His hands still trembled and his pulse raced, but at least his oxygen levels were back to normal.
Once he finished checking Woo-jun’s physical state, Simon finally relaxed a little and turned back to Han-seo.
“Has anything like this happened before? Inside or outside the field?”
Han-seo, still frozen in shock, couldn’t even form words. He shook his head, stammering, until something suddenly clicked.
“Ah…! Right. Come to think of it, maybe about a year ago, after using the Amplifier, he’d sometimes look really wiped out…”
“Hmm. Got it. Anyone got any leftover tranquilizers or anti-anxiety meds?”
To Han-seo, this was a horrifying, unprecedented event. But Simon—and everyone else—stayed shockingly calm. Simon was already scanning for meds, and the other Espers were casually patting down their gear, checking if they had anything to spare after setting aside their own emergency rations.
Just then, Julian—who had been silently watching Han-seo’s trembling back—stepped forward. Without a word, he plunged a preloaded injector into Woo-jun’s arm.
Woo-jun twitched a few more times, then finally went still, completely limp.
As soon as he passed out, one of the Espers stepped up with a grunt—“Alright, let’s go”—and hoisted him over his shoulder.
“Whew. Been a while since we’ve had one of these.”
“Yeah, things had been oddly quiet lately.”
“Still, his mental fortitude’s impressive. Didn’t even trigger his powers during the episode.”
The crisis had passed, but Lee Han-seo was still stuck in place, completely out of it. He couldn’t make sense of anything that had just happened. It felt like he was the only one who didn’t know what the hell was going on.
“Check the radar, Simon. How far are we from the gate?”
“Still about twenty kilometers out.”
“Hmm… nothing we can do about that. Let’s keep moving.”
As the others chatted like nothing had happened, Han-seo just sat there, dazed and slack-jawed. It was Julian who finally walked over and gave him a few light taps on the shoulder. Seeing that Han-seo didn’t even seem capable of standing up on his own, Julian grabbed him firmly and hauled him to his feet.
“You’ve never seen a seizure like that before, huh?”
“…”
“I don’t know about the rest, but one thing’s obvious—he really fucking cared about you.”
“…”
“Damn it. Snap out of it, Han-seo. It’s not a big deal. Every Esper goes through that kind of thing at least once. Happens all the time.”
“…All the time?”
“Yeah. All the time. Honestly, that one was pretty tame.”
The push Julian gave him felt a little rougher than necessary—like he was trying to knock some sense back into him. Without saying a word, Han-seo followed him. And all the way until they exited the dungeon, Park Woo-jun never woke up.
***
“Looking at his medical records, it seems his anxiety disorder is fairly severe. It also says he’s been on regular medication. Were you not aware of that?”
As soon as they cleared the gate, Simon took Woo-jun straight to the Esper ward. Han-seo had picked up enough English to get by, but French was still completely beyond him—he couldn’t read it, couldn’t understand it, not a word. The mission had been deployed in Belgium this time.
“Wh-What are they saying? What’s going on?”
“Hmm…”
Simon looked between Han-seo and the unconscious Woo-jun, clearly a little conflicted. Then he spoke up, gently.
“They’re saying… he’s had anxiety disorder for a while. You seriously didn’t know?”
“Anxiety disorder?”
“Yeah. Sounds like he’s been on meds for it regularly, too.”
Han-seo knew about the therapy and the tranquilizers Woo-jun had been prescribed after he started experiencing regressions following Amplifier use. But he’d never thought of it as something that serious—something that could be classified as an actual disorder.
Everyone had their own reasons, their own circumstances. And Simon, almost as if trying to comfort him, muttered that every Esper dealt with some kind of mental strain. Anxiety, panic disorder—whatever form it took. Living on a battlefield where you could die any day… no one got through that completely sane.
