“Major Mateo, did that S-Class mutant appear to comply with guiding? You mentioned he was already aware of his own S-Class rank. That means he had interacted with an Esper at least once and realized his classification during the guiding process. So, tell me—did Kwon Jae-jin submit to your guiding without resistance?”
“……No, he did not. Guiding a mutant is a criminal offense, so—”
“Ahaha. No, no. You’ll never truly understand them. And of course, mutants will never understand Awakeners either. Mutant-born individuals, whether they are Espers or Guides, do not easily engage in guiding. The most efficient method, direct mucous membrane contact—pure, untainted, and specialized for emergency combat situations—is something they instinctively resist. Forcing them to comply… is not easy.”
“……”
“They are an unteachable breed. A waste of resources—expensive and dangerous, with no return on investment. Worse yet, they pose a risk of contaminating fully trained combat-ready Awakeners.”
“……Contamination, sir?”
“I’m talking about you, Major Mateo. You, specifically.”
The Brigadier General leaned forward slightly, fixing Mateo with an unrelenting gaze.
“You desire guiding from that S-Class mutant Guide, don’t you? Of course you do. It’s in your nature. As an Esper, your instincts will crave it.”
“……”
“But you must not. If you become too close to a mutant Guide—if you are influenced by the background, ideologies, and social norms of the ordinary world that he comes from—then we will have no choice but to dispose of you as well.”
Awakeners are conditioned from birth with an education system distinct from that of ordinary humans, instilled with a unique and rigid sense of chastity.
They have no parents. No siblings. No lovers. They live and die as singular entities—mere soldiers.
They are raised in an environment where their only relationships are with superiors, subordinates, and fellow comrades.
So what happens when they are exposed to the emotional bonds found in normal society? When they experience physical intimacy driven by love instead of guiding? When they discover pleasure outside of the strict functionality of combat?
The current system would collapse.
And humanity would lose its most perfected, highly trained weapons—the ones forged over an entire century.
That is why mutants must be executed the moment they are discovered.
They are the most dangerous kind of existence.
They unravel the conditioning that keeps Awakeners in check.
They corrode the foundation of the system—one that was meticulously built over time—until it crumbles from within.
They are the weakest, yet the most insidious and lethal mutation.
“Major Mateo. I will assign you a team of tracking Espers and form an emergency search unit. You will personally locate that S-Class mutant Guide and prove yourself.”
“……”
“Prove to us that we don’t need to dispose of you.”
“Prove that you have not been contaminated.”
“……”
“Begin the search immediately. He must be extracted from the special residential zone at all costs.”
“……Understood, Brigadier General Oh. I will comply.”
***
After that, Kwon Jae-jin and Seo Eui-woo temporarily returned to the 3,000-pyeong beachfront estate they had originally been staying in.
Although the living room had been completely burned to a crisp, the security system remained intact, making it a viable temporary shelter. Besides, only the first-floor living room had been damaged—the second floor was untouched, so as long as they lived upstairs, there wouldn’t be any major inconvenience.
Fortunately, Jae-jin had previously mentioned to Eui-woo that he wanted a new house to avoid detection by the Gate system. Because of that, a brand-new, ultra-luxurious, high-tech mansion was already under construction—custom-built from the ground up to Jae-jin’s exact preferences.
Once it was complete, they planned to move in properly and establish it as their main residence.
Every aspect of the house was designed with security in mind, and with no expense spared in its construction, it would be nothing short of a fortress once finished.
On that note, the entire building process had led to the shocking revelation that Seo Eui-woo’s total assets far exceeded the 85 billion won Jae-jin had originally assumed. The reason? A pension fund.
It turned out that combatants who killed α-class creatures and extracted their cores were awarded separate pensions and bounties. If they opted to receive these payments as a lump sum instead of monthly installments, the amount was staggering. Even more absurdly, these pensions and bounties were stackable.
Given the number of α-class creatures Eui-woo had hunted in his career… he was, quite frankly, absurdly rich.
Then again, most Awakeners had short lifespans, and since they rarely had heirs to inherit their assets, their wealth was reclaimed by the state upon death. As such, from a governmental standpoint, there was no issue with an Awakener amassing an obscene fortune.
[What are you doing right now, Jae-jin?]
A simple message appeared on the black tablet screen.
Seo Eui-woo had promised to find a way for them to communicate through the security system’s alert interface—and sure enough, he had actually made it work. Ever since then, he had been sending messages frequently.
The alert system’s original function was to display notifications such as:
[Manual opening detected for first-floor bedroom window A-3.]
or
[Fire detected in the living room. Please evacuate immediately via the emergency exit.]
But Eui-woo had manually modified it so that real-time text input was possible.
[Brushing my teeth.]
Jae-jin tapped out his reply with his left hand as he stood in the spacious, pristine dry bathroom.
Whenever Jae-jin entered text on the tablet, it would sync directly to Eui-woo’s goggles.
Likewise, whenever Eui-woo inputted text via his goggles, it would appear on Jae-jin’s tablet.
Eui-woo’s goggles weren’t just ordinary eyewear—they were a type of high-tech Head-Mounted Display (HMD) with advanced eye-tracking, allowing him to input text completely hands-free.
In real combat situations, using voice comms could expose a soldier to creatures, putting them at risk. That’s why it was common practice to communicate silently via text. Since both hands needed to remain on weapons, using eye-tracking input was the only viable option.
Jae-jin understood the logic behind it, but the idea of typing using only eye movements still felt surreal to him. That kind of technology actually existed? It was a completely foreign concept to someone accustomed to touchscreens and tablets.
In any case, thanks to HMD technology, he and Eui-woo could exchange messages without fear of being overheard or detected.
To anyone else, it would just look like Eui-woo was sitting there wearing black goggles. There were no audible sounds, no noticeable movements—just the invisible flickering of his gaze, sending messages safely and discreetly.
[I’m jealous. I wanna brush your teeth for you.]
A reply from Seo Eui-woo came in immediately.
Kwon Jae-jin let out a long sigh at the absurd speed of the response.
Seo Eui-woo was currently out on a mission after receiving an emergency call.
That meant he was in the middle of a battle.
No matter how powerful an S-Class Esper he was, was it really okay for him to be this distracted, texting back and forth while fighting creatures?
Wasn’t it dangerous?
Jae-jin had already experienced firsthand just how monstrous creatures could be. He knew from brutal, up-close encounters that there was absolutely no time for idle chatter—especially not about something as ridiculous as brushing teeth—when fighting those things.
With the toothbrush still in his mouth, Jae-jin frowned and quickly tapped out a reply on his tablet.
[Stop talking nonsense and focus on the fight.]
The whole point of having a communication system was for emergencies—not for them to be exchanging messages in real time like this.
He hadn’t set it up so he could distract Seo Eui-woo in the middle of a goddamn firefight.
[I miss you, Jae-jin.]
[You can see me all you want when you’re off duty.]
[That’s not the point. I’m worried something might happen to you while I’m not there.]
[Nothing’s happening. I told you, I’m brushing my teeth.]
[I’m scared.]
Jae-jin was a little late responding because he had to spit out the toothpaste in his mouth.
By the time he finished rinsing and checked his tablet again, a flood of messages from Seo Eui-woo had come in.
[I hate leaving you alone.]
[I really can’t do this, I’m terrified.]
[What if you disappear again? What if something happens while I’m not there?]
[You’re okay, right?]
[You’re still at home, right?]
[Jae-jin?]
[You’re really okay, aren’t you?]
[Why aren’t you answering?]
[Why aren’t you answering?!]
[I’m coming home right now.]
Oh, for fuck’s sake!
Seo Eui-woo!
Jae-jin, hands still damp from washing up, hurriedly typed out a response before Eui-woo could teleport back.
[Don’t cme]
[Don’t come]
[Was brushing cudnt see]
Looks like he barely made it in time. There was no flash of light, no dispersing glow. Thank god.
[Reply to me right away.]
Eui-woo kept firing off messages, clearly pissed.
[I told you I’m scared. I told you I’m worried. Why won’t you acknowledge that, Jae-jin?]
[If typing is hard, just send me a single dot.]
[.]
[Like this.]
[You can just send something like this, so answer me instantly.]
[Got it?]
Jae-jin was momentarily stunned. Completely at a loss for words.
His fingers moved stiffly as he typed a response on the tablet. If he didn’t send anything, Eui-woo really would teleport over.
[.]
He sent the single dot, just as requested, then trudged out of the bathroom.
