It was just a B-Class dungeon—honestly, something he could’ve cleared blindfolded. But Park Woo-jun had been so anxious since the night before that he hadn’t gotten a single wink of sleep. His hands trembled as he double-checked every part of Lee Han-seo’s combat uniform, still stiff and crisp like it had never been worn before.
“Han-seo, what am I gonna do? I feel like my heart’s about to burst.”
“Yeah. You look like it.”
“Do you think it’s too late to back out now…? Yeah, probably not.”
His meek little protest immediately fizzled under Han-seo’s sharp glare, retreating like a scolded puppy.
“Alright, alright, I’ll stop… Happy now?”
Pouting just a little, Woo-jun kept inspecting every seam of the uniform with meticulous care and gave the visor’s adjustment lever another quick check. If it had anything to do with Han-seo’s safety, there was no such thing as “good enough.”
He wasn’t even sure how the month had flown by since Kim Joon-young made the proposal. Even while being dragged into mission after mission, Woo-jun had taken the time to prep neatly stacked lunch boxes for Han-seo, storing them in the fridge like clockwork. Even when he was so depleted from Guiding that his own body was aching, he still massaged Han-seo’s arms and legs like a dedicated caregiver. Honestly, he’d gone above and beyond what most parents did for kids during exam season.
He still didn’t like the idea of training, but when it came down to it, there was no way he’d allow Han-seo to get hurt just because he wasn’t prepared enough.
“Team Leader. Five minutes until gate activation.”
“Got it. We’re heading out now.”
Woo-jun wished time would just freeze then and there, but of course, it didn’t. The clock kept ticking, and now they were just moments away from entering the dungeon.
“Why’s my sweet potato looking all shriveled up? It’s not like I’m marching off to die or anything.”
“Han-seo! Can you not say stuff like that?!”
Han-seo hadn’t been inside a dungeon in years, so yeah, he was nervous. But seeing Woo-jun squirm even more than him weirdly made him feel calmer. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched Woo-jun actually tremble at the offhand joke.
Feeling suddenly mischievous, Han-seo grabbed Woo-jun’s face and kissed him square on the lips.
“You know… ever since last night…”
Smooch.
“You know how worried I’ve been.”
Smooch smooch.
“Even as a joke, how could you say something like that—”
Smooch.
“Ugh, forget it! You never get how I’m feeling. Seriously, Lee Han-seo. You’re so mean, I could cry.”
Bombarded with kiss after kiss like a blitz attack, Woo-jun finally gave in and waved his white flag. Unable to hold back anymore, he pulled Han-seo into a tight hug and started kissing him all over in return—smooch smooch smooch smooch—like a kid throwing a fit.
“The dungeon’s small, right? It’s just a B-Class. What if I carried you around like this the whole time? I’d feel so much better.”
Woo-jun wasn’t some rookie stuck on B-Class duty, and Han-seo, as his Bonded Pair, would eventually be entering A-Class and even S-Class dungeons with him. What he said was pure nonsense. Today’s mission was about testing how well Han-seo could adapt to a real dungeon environment—cheating wouldn’t help anyone.
“Stop spouting crap and let go already. We have to go.”
“Tch…”
Han-seo smacked Woo-jun on the shoulder and leapt out of his arms. As he strode out of the barracks, a shout followed hot on his heels.
“Wait for me!”
Just knowing those eyes would follow him to the ends of the earth—never letting him out of sight—melted away what little tension still clung to him. All the grueling effort of the past few days hadn’t been for nothing.
***
Was it just his imagination, or did his nose actually sting a little? Han-seo wrinkled his brow as he tightened the loosened visor. He thought the simulator had prepped him well enough, but reality was a different beast altogether.
The faint scent of blood and the sour stench of rotting monster slime made his stomach turn. And don’t even get him started on the soggy, sucking mud beneath his boots—every step dragged at his legs like quicksand. Now he understood why Lee Jung-hyuk had been such a hardass about stamina training.
“You okay? Want me to carry you?”
“…No, I’m good.”
Woo-jun had just returned from taking out a monster so far off that Han-seo hadn’t even sensed it yet, and asked with concern in his voice. Even with the visor, Han-seo was still struggling to adjust to the new terrain. Just walking at a steady pace was a challenge.
Every time Han-seo’s ankle wobbled, Woo-jun flinched like he was ready to run over and lift him up. You could tell he was dying to carry him and was barely holding himself back.
“Then at least let me take your gear. Just that, please? It’s your first day. Come on, let me do something.”
“No. I need to get used to it.”
No matter how exhausted a Guide was, the first and most important rule was carrying your own gear. If you handed your pack to an Esper just for comfort, and then something happened mid-battle—gear lost, supplies gone, separated from your team—that could be life or death.
It was just a B-Class dungeon. It was just the first day. But if he started making exceptions now, he couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t slip into bad habits later.
Han-seo hadn’t insisted on coming here just to weigh Woo-jun down. They’d be tackling far tougher A-Class and S-Class dungeons in the future. He couldn’t let himself fall apart over something this small.
“I’m okay. This isn’t too much. I expected something like this. Let’s just keep moving.”
The words were meant to soothe Park Woo-jun—but they were just as much for himself. A quiet mantra, a mental anchor. They were still only at the dungeon’s entrance. He had to stay strong.
“Alright. But promise me—if it gets too hard, tell me. No pushing yourself.”
“I will.”
Maybe Woo-jun figured the fastest way to end this was to just finish it. From that point on, he charged forward with no hesitation. To Han-seo, it was impossible to tell when any of the battles were even happening—he never saw a thing. Only the occasional pulse of released Guiding energy gave any hint.
Ah… he must’ve taken another one down.
The silent march dragged on for a couple more hours. Emergency med kit, rations, water, extra combat boots—his gear had been packed light for a B-Class dungeon. But the longer they walked, the heavier the pack felt, like it was made of lead.
After scanning their surroundings, Woo-jun knelt down and quickly flattened a patch of uneven ground, then helped Han-seo sit. The stiff military-issue boots, designed for durability rather than comfort, had torn into his feet. His toes were screaming.
“God… this sucks…”
“Drink some water. We’ve got another three hours at least. You hungry? Want to eat now?”
“Nah. I’m alright.”
Han-seo pulled out a chocolate bar from his combat uniform and took a slow bite. Honestly, the physical strain didn’t bother him much. Compared to sitting outside the dungeon, worrying nonstop while waiting for Woo-jun, this was easier. He’d had it easy for five years—this was just paying the price. The creeping exhaustion? Manageable.
After a brief rest, they started moving again. His left pinky toe throbbed sharply—probably from a popped blister—but Han-seo didn’t let it show. He kept walking without complaint. Woo-jun had noticed the slight limp for a while now, but he matched Han-seo’s pace without saying a word, pretending not to see it.
It would’ve been nice if everything had stayed that smooth. But real life rarely lets you wrap things up so neatly on the first try.
“Agh—ow!!”
A sharp cry burst from Han-seo as he was carefully climbing over a steep rocky slope. It happened just after he’d brushed off Woo-jun’s anxious offer to carry him and tried to stand up on his own.
“Han-seo!”
Woo-jun whipped up a gust of wind and caught him mid-fall—but the initial impact had already happened.
“Ugh… that hurt…”
Han-seo groaned, hunched over in Woo-jun’s arms. He couldn’t even straighten up. It felt like he’d slammed right into a rock—probably around the solar plexus. His eyes watered from the pain, and judging by the heat stinging his jaw, he’d scraped that too.
“Woo-jun… check the front pocket of my pack. There should be disinfectant in there. Ugh, that scared the hell out of me…”
“……”
“Heh… hey, Woo-jun. Were you really that scared? I’m okay. Just need a bandage.”
Even as his face twisted in pain, Han-seo forced a smile, trying to calm down the man who looked more shaken than he did. But Woo-jun didn’t answer.
“…Huh? Woo-jun? Wait, let me down for a sec—!”
Still no answer.
As if something inside him finally snapped, Woo-jun suddenly launched into the air, still holding Han-seo tightly in his arms. With a fierce burst of wind, they shot forward—blazing toward the boundary stone like a missile. Monsters, samples, the mission—it was all irrelevant now. He was getting Han-seo out. Right now.
It was the kind of reckless tactic no one would dare attempt—unless they were literally holding their Guide in their arms.
But this wasn’t a real clear. Not even close. They’d barely taken out any monsters. A dungeon like this, left uncleared, was likely to reappear unpredictably in the future. Escaping now might feel like a win, but it wasn’t a real solution.
“Park Woo-jun! Put me down! Let me go!”
Han-seo kicked and thrashed, but Woo-jun’s arms stayed locked tight.
“I’m not leaving like this! I said no! Hey! Park Woo-jun!”
Then—crack.
The sound of the boundary stone shattering echoed around them.
They hadn’t even been inside for five hours.
And just like that, Lee Han-seo’s very first deployment ended in a humiliating, pitiful retreat.
