“The escape gate is opening, Guide Lee Han-seo!”
Lee Han-seo, who had been nervously pacing back and forth with anxious anticipation near the projected gate area, immediately sprinted toward the voice calling his name. The air twisted violently, forming a massive, gaping portal, and a weary-looking line of people began to slowly emerge one by one.
The last to leave the gate was always the strongest combat Esper of the group. And so, as usual, Park Woo-jun didn’t appear until just before Lee Han-seo was about to pass out from sheer anxiety.
This was the first S-rank dungeon to open in a couple of months. Of all times, it had to erupt right before Director Kim Joon-young returned from vacation. As a result, Park Woo-jun, who had just cleared another dungeon and hadn’t even completed his guiding recovery, was forced to enter again.
Usually timid and always hiding behind Lee Han-seo, Park Woo-jun had surprisingly tried to act reassuring this time, boldly promising that he’d be back in no time and telling Han-seo not to worry, to just wait a little.
“Park Woo-jun!!”
Seeing his pitiful appearance, barely conscious and practically being carried out by another Esper, Lee Han-seo’s mind was thrown into chaos.
“Open your eyes, Park Woo-jun. You can’t pass out here. Hang in there, you bastard!”
No matter how desperately he shouted, there was no reply. Han-seo seized Park Woo-jun’s body like he was snatching it away and immediately unleashed an overwhelming level of guiding.
For Espers whose energy waves had already become unstable, physical recovery varied wildly depending on how much rationality they still retained. Staying conscious meant being able to absorb the guiding more effectively. And especially for someone like Park Woo-jun, who was using a high-risk amplifier with heavy side effects, that made all the difference.
Physical contact alone wasn’t enough—Han-seo hugged him tight and poured out wave after wave of radiating guiding energy, causing the nearby Espers to flinch instinctively. There were perhaps only five S-rank Guides in the entire world.
Among them, Lee Han-seo was unrivaled when it came to the purity of his guiding. The sheer force of his concentrated effort made even other Espers instinctively turn their heads and fix their gaze on him.
“What the fuck are you staring at? I barely have enough to give my own Esper, and now it’s leaking thanks to you bastards. Get lost, now.”
“……”
The lethal tone didn’t match his petite frame or cute features at all. But the rumors were well known—how the nation’s precious S-rank Guide could turn into a rabid dog when someone so much as opened their mouth about his Esper.
The Espers who had unconsciously been caught in Han-seo’s guiding snapped back to their senses, shaking their heads vigorously or slapping their own cheeks to break the trance.
Han-seo couldn’t care less what the others were doing. Holding Park Woo-jun’s burning-hot body, he continued guiding without pause. Only when the fever had slightly subsided did he gently press his lips to the other’s cracked ones.
This gradual escalation of contact area was a far more effective guiding technique than suddenly increasing physical intimacy all at once.
If he’d reached the brink of a full-blown rampage, things might have been different. But thankfully, this time, it hadn’t gone that far. Not even close. Still, that didn’t make Han-seo feel any less miserable.
Park Woo-jun couldn’t even be taken straight to an ambulance. The damned manual stated that unconscious Espers couldn’t be moved until their guiding levels returned to the safe zone.
Han-seo knew the rule existed to protect others, but that didn’t stop the sickening ache every time he had to lay his Esper down on the cold, bare ground.
He’d wanted to buy blankets or a portable stretcher out of his own pocket, but it was illegal to bring any unofficial equipment into the gate perimeter. There was simply nothing he could do.
It wasn’t until a full two hours later that Park Woo-jun was finally transferred to HQ. Once the most critical guiding threshold had stabilized, the rest of his injuries could be left to time.
As always, public opinion heaped lavish praise on Park Woo-jun for clearing an S-rank dungeon without any casualties. On the surface, everything appeared smooth and peaceful.
***
When there were no visible injuries, he usually woke up within half a day at most. But even after two full days, Park Woo-jun still hadn’t opened his eyes. No one could pinpoint the exact cause.
His guiding wave had already stabilized the day he returned from the dungeon. Three of the highest-ranked healing Espers had been assigned to him, practically flooding him with their abilities under Lee Han-seo’s intense supervision.
According to the medical team, healing Espers weren’t omnipotent. It was possible that his accumulated fatigue was simply being discharged in this way. They advised waiting until the third day before taking any additional measures.
Lee Han-seo lay in the guardian bed, blankly staring up at the ceiling. A sudden knock startled him upright. Accompanied by a sheepish voice asking, “…How’s he doing?” was Lee Jung-hyuk—who had resigned from his position as Chief of Espers following Director Kim Joon-young’s departure, and returned to working as a regular field Guide.
Despite the weariness all over his face, Han-seo managed a small smile. Maybe it was because he’d known Jung-hyuk since he was a kid. For some reason, Han-seo always felt a bit more at ease around him.
“I don’t know. He’s not waking up this time, and it’s… weird.”
“I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have been gone that long.”
Jung-hyuk and Kim Joon-young had heard about Korea’s S-rank dungeon only right before boarding their return flight. As soon as they landed, they hadn’t even had time to recover from jet lag before diving into other dungeon clearances that Park Woo-jun couldn’t handle alone.
At the moment, there were only two combat-capable S-rank Espers in South Korea. Compared to Park Woo-jun, Kim Joon-young may have seemed relatively free, but in reality, his schedule was anything but relaxed. The fact that this had been his first vacation in the fifteen years since officially joining the agency at age twenty said it all.
“Don’t be. It’s not like you guys disappear every day…”
“Still though…”
“I told you, I’m really fine.”
Even as Lee Han-seo insisted he was fine, Lee Jung-hyuk still looked weighed down with guilt. The stormy look on his face refused to clear. Never particularly good with words, he chose not to make any clumsy attempts at comfort and instead quietly stayed by Han-seo’s side.
It was actually a pretty effective move. If it were anyone else, maybe not—but Lee Jung-hyuk was someone Han-seo could genuinely lean on.
“Hey, hyung… The truth is, our Woo-jun’s been pushing himself too hard lately.”
“Yeah.”
“The more I think about it… If he wakes up like this, a blackout’s basically guaranteed.”
For Espers deprived of guiding, a blackout was like an unwelcome guest that always overstayed its visit. No one in their right mind would be happy to end up begging for guiding like a drunk with no memory of how they got there. For regular Espers, blackouts were rare—maybe once or twice a year at most. But not for Park Woo-jun.
Even though he was the sole paired Esper to an S-rank Guide, he experienced blackouts more than ten times a year.
That truth made Han-seo burn with shame—and ache with helplessness.
There was only one reason. Park Woo-jun stubbornly insisted on going into dungeons without him.
What kind of Esper in their right mind entered a dungeon without a Guide? Even those without a permanent pair made do with a temporary one during missions.
The two of them hadn’t always been like this. In the early days of their pairing, they had gone into several low-level dungeons together as part of training and adaptation.
It must’ve been the third or fourth dungeon. After one of the team’s Guides suffered a severe injury and fell into a coma they never woke from, Park Woo-jun changed. From that point on, any time Han-seo so much as mentioned the word “dungeon,” he would respond with an uncharacteristically firm refusal. He even admitted he hated waiting near the exit gate.
“So honestly… I’d rather he just stayed asleep for a while. Woke up only after he’s fully recovered. Even the aftereffects from the amplifier, all of it.”
When it was just a blackout, it was still bearable. Even if he had no sense of reason, the imprint—the bond—remained intact. Park Woo-jun would instinctively seek out Han-seo’s embrace.
The real problem came when the blackout overlapped with the amplifier’s aftereffects. Excessive use of amplifiers often led to temporary loss of an Esper’s abilities. That meant the imprint formed between Esper and Guide also became faint—temporarily severed.
In that state, to Park Woo-jun, Lee Han-seo was no more than a complete stranger.
“What kind of Pair Guide thinks like this? Wishing his Esper would wake up later…”
Han-seo let out a long sigh, and Jung-hyuk gave his shoulder a gentle pat. Even though the affection in his touch couldn’t sweep away all the disappointment, it still felt better than wallowing alone.
In the end, Han-seo practically shoved Jung-hyuk out of the isolation ward to get him to leave.
The truth was, ever since Jung-hyuk had stepped inside, Han-seo had been distracted by the shadow pacing just beyond the door. He didn’t need to check—he knew it was Kim Joon-young.
And yet, despite also being an S-rank Esper… after forming a dedicated pair with his Guide, Kim Joon-young had almost never experienced a blackout. From Han-seo’s perspective, there was only one reason for that difference.
Lee Jung-hyuk joined his Esper in dungeons and even battles. Meanwhile, Han-seo could only pace around helplessly in front of the gate. All that glittering talk of being an S-rank Guide paled pitifully in comparison.
Realizing the gap between them, the little relief he had begun to feel vanished again. Han-seo exhaled heavy sighs, one after another, without even trying to hold them back.
And then—suddenly—
“Ugh… Where is this…? What the hell…”
“Woo-jun!”
Park Woo-jun opened his eyes.
“Why am I here…?”
And he didn’t even recognize his own Guide—his voice and expression utterly dazed and pathetic.
