Survival Rules for D-Rank Guides – 1

The first Esper appeared about fifty years ago in Washington. Mark Johnson was the very first. His arrival was enough to leave the public utterly stunned. The moment he emerged from the rubble of a collapsed building, cradling his wife in his arms and walking slowly forward, it was nothing short of shocking.

Inside the noisy restaurant.

With a freshly poured shot of soju in hand, he stared intently at the television screen. A documentary about Espers was playing.

Among the flood of documentaries on the same subject, this one stood out as a masterpiece, which likely explained why it was so often rebroadcast.

Even he, unintentionally, had seen it over ten times. At this point, he had watched it so many times that he could practically recite what scenes would come next and what narration would accompany them.

At first, people celebrated Johnson’s bizarre abilities, hailing the arrival of a superhuman.

But what happened next was even more astonishing. Starting with him, people all around the world began to appear—people who could wield extraordinary powers.

As the documentary shifted from showing Mark Johnson’s photographs and footage of him using his powers, it began showcasing various others.

There were those who could fly through the skies, those who could control water and fire at will, and those who emitted strange lights that could collapse a building in a single strike.

Back then, they were simply called “superhumans,” but now, everyone knows they are called “Espers.”

The emergence of these superpowered individuals thrilled the entire world.

But it wasn’t long before that excitement faded. A sinkhole suddenly formed in the middle of Washington, and strange lifeforms began to emerge from it, attacking people. The situation quickly devolved into a desperate fight for survival.

Now, the documentary showed chaotic footage filled with monstrous shrieks and screams. The very first time a Gate had opened. People stood, dumbfounded, staring at the sudden sinkhole—only to be attacked by monsters surging out of the Gate. If memory served correctly, the number of casualties that day approached a thousand. It was inevitable. Ordinary human bodies simply couldn’t outrun or withstand monsters.

It was Mark Johnson, along with other emerging superpowered individuals across the U.S., who managed to deal with the monsters pouring out of what would come to be known as the Gate.

With physical abilities several times greater than the average person, and extraordinary powers at their disposal, they fought and subdued the monsters. These days, as soon as a Gate opens, Espers rush inside to eliminate the threats within. Today, we call these individuals ‘Espers.’

Grand, sweeping music played. The television broadcast sharpened in quality, the visuals becoming clearer—signaling that the timeline was drawing closer to the present. The faces of countless Espers flashed across the screen. Then, familiar faces began to appear.

His expression twisted into a grimace. It happened the moment Cha Jae-woo’s face appeared, almost as if the entire documentary had been prepared just to feature him.

“Tto-yul!”

“Ack!”

“You’re gonna get sucked into the TV at this rate, seriously.”

“You scared me!”

“Scared, my ass. What’s so fascinating about that thing that you keep watching it so seriously? I’m sick of it already.”

There wasn’t a shred of guilt on Kim Geon-ung’s face, despite being over thirty minutes late for their scheduled meeting. Instead, he just kept thumping Haeyul’s back, joking around without a care in the world.

Thanks to that, Haeyul finally tore his gaze away from the TV, unable to hide the irritation bubbling up inside him. He kicked at the annoying guy.

“Could you please show up like a normal person for once?”

“How much more normal do you want me to be?”

Unfortunately, Geon-ung, having clearly anticipated this reaction, dodged every kick with a stupid grin plastered across his face.

Haeyul shot a murderous glare at Kim Geon-ung, then poured another shot of soju into his now-empty glass. The soju bottle was already more than half empty.

“Drinking in the middle of the day? And alone, at that?”

“It’s six o’clock. It’s not ‘the middle of the day.'”

“If the sun’s still up, it’s still daytime, man.”

Instead of answering that nonsense, Haeyul tossed back the soju in one gulp. For some reason, the liquor tasted even more bitter than usual today. It felt like it mirrored the bitterness in his heart. The small amount of energy he had left seemed to drain away with every sip.

“…Did something happen?”

Maybe I was acting strange today, because Kim Geon-ung, who was usually all smiles, actually looked at me with genuine concern.

‘Something really did happen.’

Because something absurd had indeed happened.

Normally, he would’ve teased him not to pretend to care, but right now, he didn’t even have the energy for that. Instead of answering, Haeyul shifted his gaze back to the television. Cha Jae-woo’s face still filled the entire screen.

Esper Cha Jae-woo. He’s one of the extremely rare S-rank Espers in the world. He manifested as an S-rank Esper at just ten years old.

The existence of an S-rank Esper is valuable enough to elevate the status of an entire nation. But more importantly, Cha Jae-woo’s existence ensures our safety.

The narrator’s dry voice was singing Cha Jae-woo’s praises. Haeyul could now recite the following lines without missing a single word.

As he refilled his shot glass, he muttered under his breath, almost like a sigh.

“But we can’t stay safe forever.”

But we can’t stay safe forever.

“Unless a Guide with a high compatibility rate for Cha Jae-woo appears.”

Unless a Guide with a high compatibility rate for Cha Jae-woo appears.

“Are you practicing voice impressions or something? What’s with you?”

Kim Geon-ung stared at him with a bewildered expression.

Haeyul just shook his head and rubbed at his eyes. They still felt dry for now, but it wouldn’t be long before they turned wet.

The Esper who once protected our safety, Cha Jae-woo, is now becoming a grave threat to us. His rampage will not be something minor.

The documentary was hurtling toward its conclusion.

He knew exactly why that same documentary kept airing day after day. It was to constantly hammer in the idea that Cha Jae-woo needed a Guide, and if they couldn’t find one, everyone would be in serious danger.

“They’re really bending over backward to justify forcing the entire nation to take mandatory Guide tests.”

Kim Geon-ung clicked his tongue and shook his head. Haeyul nodded in agreement.

It was clear the government was broadcasting these programs non-stop to suppress public discontent. You don’t want to become a Guide? Well, too bad. If you don’t, look at how dangerous things could get! We could all die! It felt like a veiled threat more than anything else.

Haeyul threw back another shot of soju, now filled to the brim.

Normally, he would have ranted alongside Geon-ung, complaining about how ridiculous it was to force even minors to undergo the tests.

But not today. Today, he didn’t have the luxury of worrying about others. He barely had enough strength to handle his own problems. The bitterness clawing at his throat felt unbearable. His once-dry eyes were starting to glisten.

“So what the hell happened to you anyway? You’ve been brooding all evening, totally unlike yourself.”

“Who’s brooding?”

“Come on, Tto-yul. You can’t even handle alcohol, and here you are, pouring yourself shot after shot.”

Kim Geon-ung swiftly snatched the soju bottle out of Haeyul’s hand. Acting like the documentary and the Guide tests didn’t matter to him at all, the laid-back bastard casually poured himself a drink. The sight of him, so relaxed and carefree, made Haeyul’s blood boil.

Glaring daggers at him, Haeyul shot a fierce look across the table. Kim Geon-ung only rolled his eyes dramatically, as if asking, What’s your problem?

“Stop calling me ‘Tto-yul.'”

Maybe that stupid nickname was the real problem. Kim Geon-ung, and all the other friends too—everyone kept calling him ‘Tto-yul,’ and now this mess had exploded in his face.

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it wasn’t. Either way, he was burning up inside, itching to pick a fight with someone—anyone.

“Why are you picking a fight all of a sudden?”

Kim Geon-ung looked at him with a face that clearly said he didn’t get it.

Haeyul snapped back with a slightly raised voice.

“It’s not ‘picking a fight!’ I just… feel like that stupid nickname jinxed me, so stop using it!”

“What the hell are you talking about? How did ‘Tto-yul’ jinx you?”

“Argh, I said stop calling me that!”

The resentment that had been simmering in his chest finally boiled over into pure misery.

Yeah, honestly, Tto-yul really did jinx him. He couldn’t even deny it—that was what made it so painful.

Starting tomorrow, that damned documentary wouldn’t even be airing anymore. Why? Because there would be no more need for Guide tests. Because it wouldn’t matter anymore!

“Why? What happened this time? Don’t tell me… you got unlucky with the Guide test or something? Wait, don’t tell me—did it say you’re a Guide?”

“…”

It sounded like he was just throwing out random guesses, but tragically, he hit the bullseye.

Haeyul responded with a heavy sigh instead of words. Kim Geon-ung’s mouth fell open in shock.

“…Seriously?”

“…”

Kim Geon-ung’s eyes grew even wider. At this rate, his eyeballs might actually pop out. He looked completely blindsided—very unlike his usual self.

“You’re telling me you’re a Guide?”

He was so stunned his voice practically jumped an octave.

“Shut up. You wanna announce it to the whole neighborhood?”

When Haeyul hissed that back, Kim Geon-ung belatedly realized what he had done and glanced nervously around. Thankfully, no one seemed particularly interested in what was going on at their table.

The fact that he had become a Guide wasn’t something to shout about. Social perception of Guides was far from favorable.

People simply regarded Guides as tools—something to prevent Espers from burning out. Even though Guides had existed for quite some time, public opinion had hardly evolved at all.

Around fifty years ago, when people with supernatural abilities first appeared and the Gates opened, they were given the name Espers. Espers were hailed as heroes. Back then, people conveniently forgot that no matter how extraordinary their powers, Espers were still human—and that their abilities could be exhausted.

It was a tragic truth, but even Espers, blessed with special abilities, had clear limits. Their powers weren’t some infinite wellspring. They gradually depleted over time.

If the exhaustion of their abilities simply meant losing their powers, it would have been a relatively fortunate outcome. But the end for an Esper was brutal and horrifying. An Esper whose powers were drained would die—expelling every last ounce of their abilities in the process.

Society came to call this inevitable demise Rampage. Once their powers and rationality slipped out of their control, there was no other word for it. An Esper in rampage was no longer an ally; they became something far more terrifying than any monster emerging from the Gates.

Why did rampage happen to Espers? Could they truly be trusted? The public questioned—but a far more pressing issue soon arose.

Other Espers, witnessing their comrades rampaging and being consumed by their own powers, began to hide. They stopped moving, even when new Gates appeared.

And without Espers, no one else could stop the monsters spilling out of the Gates. But Espers had gone into hiding to protect themselves, and because of that, people started dying again.

It wasn’t hard to understand. No one chose to become an Esper. No one wanted to meet such a tragic end. In their shoes, he would have hidden too.

“…You’re seriously a Guide?”

Kim Geon-ung’s voice dropped even lower. His furrowed brows showed he had finally grasped the gravity of the situation.

Haeyul let out a long, heavy sigh and nodded. Seeing Kim Geon-ung’s face—completely aghast—made him feel the full weight of the reality he was facing.

“Ha…”

“For real? You? Of all people?”

Kim Geon-ung’s forehead crumpled into deep lines. He was obviously rattled, but, considering, his reaction was relatively mild. Haeyul had been bracing for disgust, so this felt almost merciful.

While Espers were glorified as heroes, the public’s view of Guides remained deeply negative. They were seen through a sexualized lens, regarded almost like property to be used. It wasn’t uncommon for people exposed as Guides during the mandatory national tests to be dumped by their partners.

Rampages. Espers going into hiding. Monsters spilling from the Gates. The world was falling into chaos.

Fortunately, the chaos hadn’t lasted too long. A solution emerged—someone who could stop the Espers from rampaging. Her name was Sarah Page, the lover of Canadian Esper Liam Smith.

In an effort to allow Espers to return to the Gates, frantic research was conducted. Amid that research, Liam Smith stood out: despite using his powers, there was no sign of depletion.

At first, people assumed Smith must have some special ability—that he was an Esper immune to burnout. But that was only half right.

He did have a special advantage—but it wasn’t within himself. It was his partner, Sarah Page.

Researchers quickly discovered that when Smith was in contact with Page, his unstable wavelengths settled down. Thanks to her, his powers didn’t deplete.

But the researchers grew complacent. Drawing from that promising result, they made a disastrous leap: They declared that “contact with someone you love” could stabilize an Esper.

They labeled Page a Guide, confidently claiming that an Esper’s lover could become their stabilizing partner. It was a romantic notion—almost laughably so.

It didn’t take long for that rosy theory to collapse. Once Smith and Page broke up, and Smith began dating someone new, reality hit hard. Smith no doubt believed that because he loved his new partner, they would stabilize his powers.

But it didn’t work. Only Page could stabilize him—at least, back then.

Soon after, it was formally announced that Sarah Page possessed an innate ability called Guiding, and her meeting with Smith had been pure coincidence. Further studies confirmed that when Page came into contact with other Espers, their wavelengths also stabilized to some degree.

Thus, the researchers asserted there must be others like her—other Guides out there—and that they needed to be found and matched with Espers.

And now.

Today, multiple Guides existed to help stabilize Esper wavelengths. But there was a bigger problem: society treated Guides like the personal property of Espers.

The fact that Guiding required physical contact—and often with multiple Espers—only fueled the prejudice. Ordinary people could not easily accept the idea of Guiding.

As a result, sexual ridicule toward Guides became rampant. It was common to joke that promiscuous people should “go get a Guide test.”

“Goddamn it. Tto-Yul—and now you’re actually living up to your name, Lim Haeyul.”

“I told you to stop calling me that crap. It jinxed me!”

“Fuck…”

Whether they said it or not, he couldn’t have cared less. He had never given a damn about Espers or Guides. At least, not until he found out he was a Guide.

No matter how many times he thought it over, it was still absurd.

Lim Haeyul—the guy who always got picked in every stupid game.

Lim Haeyul—the one who always ended up stuck with the worst outcome no matter what he did.

Even in a raffle, it was always Lim Haeyul who got picked.

Again and again—Lim Haeyul.

It had gotten so ridiculous that his friends shortened it to Tto-Yul, from Again Haeyul, practically branding him with that cursed nickname. Looking back, it was an absolutely wretched and terrifying label.

Haeyul snatched the soju bottle from Kim Geon-ung’s hand, intending to pour himself a shot—but even that felt too damn slow. Instead, he just clutched the bottle and started drinking straight from it.

Kim Geon-ung didn’t even try to stop him. Looking unusually awkward, he hesitated before cautiously opening his mouth.

“…Hey. Uh, listen.”

“What?!”

His voice exploded, louder than he intended. Normally, Kim Geon-ung would have scolded him for losing his temper, but not today. Sensing how serious the situation was, Geon-ung just nervously glanced at him and continued.

“I mean… I really hope it’s not the case, but, uh….”

“Haah…”

“…Is it Cha Jae-woo?”

Instead of answering, Haeyul just took another long pull from the bottle.

Kim Geon-ung’s face started to crumple into a full grimace, becoming blurrier and blurrier before his eyes. God, his life was over. That smug bastard’s face, the one that kept flashing across the television screen, was now burned into his retinas.

Hope had killed him.

Again—Tto-yul had done it again.

That damned nickname.

If anyone ever dared to call him that again, he was going to sew their mouths shut.

Burying his face in his hands, Haeyul grabbed handfuls of his hair and yanked at it in frustration. But no matter how much he tore at himself, reality wasn’t going to change.

He had been designated as a Guide. Not just for anyone.

For Cha Jae-woo.

In other words, he had become the Guide for the only S-rank Esper in all of South Korea.

Why? Because he and Cha Jae-woo had recorded an unprecedented matching rate of 97.8%.

Author: Levia