Chapter 11
“Let’s have whoever left yesterday without putting away the training equipment come forward.”
At the Training Director’s words, someone somewhere sucked in a sharp breath. The Training Director, who had been flipping through the training roster with indifferent eyes, clicked his pen.
“Esper Park Chaeun. That’s a 10-point deduction. Five points for each of your teammates.”
“What? No, Training Director. I did put things away.”
“Did you not hear the explanation on your first day? Your team shares the same fate. Will you say the same thing when you’re in a dungeon, Guide Kang Minjun? ‘I did my part, but they didn’t do theirs.’ Like that?”
The Esper opened his mouth to retort, but the Training Director waved his hand to silence him.
“I clearly warned you on the first day. Unless the red alert sounds, you must finish whatever you’re doing. Anything to say?”
At those words, the Esper lowered his eyes, but the Guide kept his lips tightly shut. The Training Director looked at the two of them indifferently and dragged over a basket full of mana balls.
“Today, as usual.”
Choi Dongwon muttered weakly as he brought over the mana balls. Park Seohyun darted out to retrieve them before Yeonwoo, who had been stretching his wrists, could warn him.
“This one has scratches.”
Most of the training equipment in Zone C was outdated. Other training gear was still usable despite being worn out, but not the mana balls. No amount of training with mana balls that couldn’t properly contain mana would yield any results.
Even if you carefully chose ones that seemed fine, mana balls would still go pop, pop, bursting during training. Choi Dongwon tossed the defective ball onto the pile of faulty equipment and brought a new one. A large heap of discarded mana balls had accumulated in the corner.
So it was really unavoidable, even expected, that Kang Chahun would play with a scratched-up mana ball.
Yeonwoo gritted his teeth and glared at the training equipment scattered around the training grounds.
These bastards don’t clean up their equipment on time.
The ability users, confident that the Center couldn’t fire them due to severe staff shortages compared to other places, were openly rebellious. No matter how much the Training Director warned them in the morning, they would just respond with a dismissive “yeah, whatever” and snicker among themselves.
Since there were no visible consequences for getting penalty points, they even slacked off right in front of the Training Director.
But isn’t this a bit too much?
One corner of the training grounds was such a complete mess of scattered equipment that there wasn’t even a place to step. When other Espers complained that they should at least clean up, the others would argue back, raising their voices: “We’re just going to do the same training tomorrow anyway, so why bother cleaning up?” and “Unlike Zone A, there’s no cleaning staff here, so what’s the problem with leaving things messy?”
What’s the problem? They’re the problem.
Yeonwoo anxiously watched Chahun. Chahun, who had completely made himself at home, was kneading a slime-based training tool like he was pounding rice cake.
My, he’s strong too.
The training tool, which would bounce back if not placed in its designated spot, was crumpled just as Chahun had pushed it in. Seeing his slightly smug smile, Yeonwoo almost clapped to praise him. Yes, yes, well done, now go play over there—he wanted to chase him away.
Not satisfied with crumpling every training tool he could get his hands on, Kang Chahun was now, of all places, poking around the pile of defective mana balls. After examining other training equipment similarly classified as defective, Chahun carefully placed a mana ball on top of the pile.
Watching this quietly, Yeonwoo abruptly stood up and approached Chahun.
“Hey.”
He must have been deeply focused. At Yeonwoo’s call, Chahun whipped his head around. Yeonwoo stepped back, nearly getting hit by Chahun’s incredible reflexes, and Chahun, still holding the mana ball, tilted his head with an attitude.
“That’s not how you do it.”
“So what?”
So what? Yeonwoo suppressed a laugh that almost escaped and forced himself not to narrow his eyes. Looking at those arrogant eyes staring down at him, regret washed over him with the thought that maybe he was doing something unnecessary. He wanted to leave now, saying it was nothing, and let Chahun happily play with the defective mana balls.
But he couldn’t. To Yeonwoo’s eyes, all of Chahun’s actions looked no different than a newborn two-year-old running around with a knife.
It would be wrong to pretend not to notice when he could clearly see that this would lead to injury.
Yeonwoo pressed his brow and examined the training equipment. There’s even a bow over there; he could use his specialty and play with arrows, but no, he just had to mess with dangerous things. Biting the tip of his tongue, Yeonwoo selected a few offensive training tools from the pile.
This should be enough for him to play with safely.
Looking to the side, he saw Chahun crouched down, lifting a shield, a defensive training tool.
“That’s for defensive use, and this is for offense.”
As Yeonwoo carefully removed the shield from his hands and pointed behind him, Chahun turned his head. Those dark pupils stared blankly at the tools Yeonwoo had set aside, then turned their gaze back to him.
“So what?”
Huh.
Yeonwoo smiled brightly and returned the shield. This damn meddling. It was none of his business whether Chahun played with knives like a thug or burst mana balls.
He wasn’t even expecting a thank you, but “So what?” It was so absurd he couldn’t even speak. Shaking his head, he tried to get up, but his body tilted awkwardly.
“You said this is for defense. Why are you giving it to me?”
Chahun had put down the shield and was holding onto Yeonwoo’s training uniform. Yeonwoo shook his body to regain balance and naturally shake off Chahun’s grip, but Chahun’s hand firmly held onto the uniform.
Are S-class Espers strong in their fingers too?
While wondering how to pull his uniform free, Chahun, who was staring up at Yeonwoo, pointed at the training tools on the floor.
“What about that one?”
“Huh? That’s for auxiliary use.”
Whether he thought it looked impressive, or it looked cool to him, or maybe he just wanted what he couldn’t have, everything Chahun picked up was either defensive or auxiliary equipment.
The last thing he picked up was even a measurement device for Guides.
Yeonwoo’s eyes sank as he looked down at Chahun’s back. Anyone could see he hadn’t received proper training. That’s probably why he didn’t know how to handle mana and made the mistake of creating an ice block in midair.
Is S-class treatment like this everywhere?
Nothing has changed. Yeonwoo clicked his tongue and met Chahun’s eyes as he looked up sharply. I wasn’t clicking my tongue at you, so stop glaring.
Yeonwoo crouched next to Chahun and sorted through the training equipment. After carelessly examining them and tossing aside the scratched ones, he noticed Chahun’s ears turning red as he followed Yeonwoo’s hands with his eyes. He seemed to realize just now that the other side was being used as a trash can. Well, he might not know. He could learn as he went along.
“These are for offensive use.”
“So what?”
At the consistent answer, Yeonwoo smiled brightly.
If you were really my brother, I’d have hit you by now. Smiling while gritting his teeth, Yeonwoo picked out a few intact mana balls and stood up. He figured this would be enough for Chahun to practice on his own, but before he could take a single step, his body tilted again.
“Why did you give me this?”
Chahun was pointing at the mana ball.
Why? To practice with, you idiot. So you don’t float ice in the sky again.
Biting the tip of his tongue, Yeonwoo was about to sit next to Chahun when, far away, a ringtone sounded from his belongings. Recognizing it as Yeonhwa’s alarm, Yeonwoo quickly stood up and folded space.
“Hello?”
“Oppa. You’re not coming home today either?”
“I was planning to. Why?”
“I just thought we could have dinner together for once.”
Hearing the drowsy, languid voice full of sleepiness, Yeonwoo unconsciously soothed his chest and checked the time.
She obviously just woke up, so she probably hasn’t eaten anything until now. While considering menu options and gathering his things to leave, Yeonwoo turned around to look for Kang Chahun.
He wanted to tell him to go home for the day, even though he was trying not to care, it felt like leaving a child by the riverside.
Wait, that doesn’t look like a mana ball.
Chahun had put down the mana ball Yeonwoo had given him and was fiddling with a different training tool. It was very similar to a mana ball but was a different kind, one for water-type Espers. Seeing him kneading it like a slime ball made Yeonwoo’s heart pound anxiously. He clearly had no idea how much water was in such a small water ball.
“Uh, wait, Kang Chahun!”
Just as he feared.
There was a sound of water freezing and expanding as it met Chahun’s mana. A cracking noise followed as the ball split. Ending the call, Yeonwoo folded space and rushed to Chahun.
“Let go!”
“What’s wrong!”
“I said let go!”
Startled, Chahun still wouldn’t release the water ball. Yeonwoo looked down at Chahun’s hand, knuckles white from his grip, and clicked his tongue.
When someone gives you a warning, shouldn’t you listen? So stubborn.
Instead of grabbing the water ball, Yeonwoo grabbed Chahun’s wrist and teleported them both to the shower room. Yeonwoo closed the door to the shower room and shouted at Chahun to drop the ball, but—
WHOOSH.
It was already too late.
Water poured out with a sound like crashing waves. With no time to set coordinates, Yeonwoo, swept away by the current, grabbed Chahun’s hand. If Chahun froze the water now, both of them would be preserved in ice.
“Puha.”
After kicking hard to surface, Yeonwoo lifted Chahun’s arm. Chahun, who had been looking at him with a puzzled expression, seemed to understand the situation and obediently raised both arms in surrender.
The stinging under his eyes suggested this wasn’t just water but seawater. While the water slowly drained through the outlet, Yeonwoo, calmly floating, glanced with white eyes at Chahun, who was staring only at the floor.
His face is going to burst at this rate.
When enough water had drained, Yeonwoo waded over and turned on the shower to rinse his stinging eyes.
While wetting his hair, stiffened from the salt water, to remove the salt, Chahun remained frozen in the same position, still looking down.
So he knows he did something wrong.
Testing the water temperature, Yeonwoo walked toward Chahun, pushing the pooled water away.
SWOOSH.
Chahun’s shoulders jumped as the water drained completely. Yeonwoo looked up at Chahun’s face, wondering if it could get any redder, and lowered his arms.
Worried that Chahun might not follow, Yeonwoo found his concern unnecessary as Chahun meekly followed and stood under the shower. Seeing Chahun’s soaking wet, disheveled appearance, Yeonwoo bit his lip to hold back laughter.
He felt like he’d burst out laughing if he let his guard down. But he couldn’t laugh in front of someone who was clearly remorseful.
Yeonwoo turned Chahun’s body under the shower and mimicked washing his face. Chahun hesitantly raised his hands.
Good heavens. Even Yeonhwa could wash her face by herself.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
