If it turned out that the anti-government group Molt had the ability to open and close Gates at will, then this really was the end of the line. That’s why the situation was so critical.
And yet, in the midst of this serious crisis, two grown men were locked in a battle of pure stubbornness. It was honestly ridiculous.
Central decided to re-explore the area where the machine had been discovered. They began assembling a new expedition team, and the whole mess began when the Center Director insisted that since Seon Juho was the one who’d found the machine, he should be the one to go again.
Naturally, Seon Juho refused. The Director ordered him to go anyway. Juho argued back, saying they should follow protocol. The Director pushed harder, demanding obedience to a superior’s command. Juho stood his ground again, and in a fit of anger, the Director tried to force Lee Tae-rim onto the team instead.
Everyone knew Tae-rim had come back looking like the walking dead. Not just Juho—other Espers stepped in too. They all agreed it was inhumane to send an ordinary civilian like Lee Tae-rim on back-to-back external expeditions. Forcing him through that kind of schedule was brutal.
Still, the Center Director kept using Tae-rim as leverage to pressure Juho. Eventually, Juho lost his temper and declared that if they tried to send Tae-rim out again, he would refuse to participate in any future expeditions. The Director grabbed the back of his neck in frustration.
Now the two of them were locked in a tense, silent standoff. God, they were both unbelievably stubborn.
To be honest, even Jung Jae-heon thought the Director’s logic was nonsense. The machine was the size of a human torso—any Esper would’ve found it. Insisting that Juho had to go again just because he’d discovered it first? That was absurd.
And Juho had a point about sticking to the rules. They were already treating him like a team leader just because he was the oldest, but it wasn’t like he’d asked for that. Jae-heon didn’t want to go on consecutive expeditions either.
Unfortunately, Jae-heon’s name had already been added to the re-exploration team—without his consent. In moments like this, he really envied Juho’s ability to just say no and walk away.
In the end, Juho won the standoff. Among Espers, strength determined hierarchy. And Juho had shown overwhelming power in the last Gate incident. At this point, among all the Espers, the de facto Alpha—the one who led by strength—was Seon Juho.
Wanting to get out of the exhausting standoff, the Espers sided with Juho, leaving the Center Director no choice but to back down.
Honestly, the Director had been acting completely irrational. He’d wasted so much time arguing that even the research team was starting to give him dirty looks. The Director sulked, clearly offended.
“Then the S-rank Espers participating in this expedition will be Jung Jae-heon, Kwon Hae-beom, and Jeon Jun-pyo.”
The Deputy Director, worn out from standing between the two sides, quickly wrapped things up. As soon as the roster was finalized, Juho stormed out without looking back. Jae-heon sighed and headed to the follow-up meeting with a tired expression. That guy really was enviable in so many ways.
Once everyone who wasn’t needed had left, the meeting resumed. Molt was a serious threat.
But ironically, their slogan wasn’t wrong.
“The extinction of Gates.”
That was something all of humanity wanted. So why were they considered dangerous radicals?
Because they didn’t care how they achieved it. The end always justified the means. Sacrificing a few for the many wasn’t inherently evil—but in Molt’s case, the “few” they sacrificed were never actually few.
They were an organization that insisted Gates had to be destroyed at all costs, regardless of human safety. And to make that happen, they committed all sorts of illegal activities and experiments, claiming it was the only way.
Now they’d developed a machine that could interfere with Gates. And if they were actually testing it? That had to be stopped—no question.
Molt had once even argued for reducing the human population as a way to decrease Gate activity. Now imagine a group like that going all-in on Gate extinction. There’s no way that wouldn’t spell disaster.
And if that machine really was tied to Gate manipulation, then it could even be linked to the recent S-rank Gate incident. Never before had so many S-rank Gates opened simultaneously. Even the number—seven—seemed to match the number of S-rank Espers, almost as if someone had been testing their limits.
If they hadn’t managed to stop the monsters pouring out of those Gates, if the defense lines had failed… The loss of life would’ve been unimaginable.
And in a way, that would’ve meant Molt’s plan had taken one big step forward. They would’ve succeeded in reducing humanity, just the way they wanted.
Whatever the case, they couldn’t allow them to keep producing machines like that. They had to catch a lead—anything.
Handling Gates alone was exhausting enough. Now they had to track down lunatics, too. Jung Jae-heon was beyond tired.
This was something that should’ve been shared with other global Centers for a joint investigation. But the Director was keeping it under wraps to pad his own performance record. Jae-heon silently cursed the old bastard and tried to focus on the meeting.
Honestly, he wanted to walk out just like Seon Juho. But that just wasn’t in his nature—it stayed as nothing more than a passing thought.
He sighed. God, he was jealous of Juho.
***
Two days had passed since Seon Juho had unleashed a tirade of curses at the Center Director.
Now, Lee Tae-rim sat awkwardly across from Kwon Hae-beom, Guiding him. He’d figured they might send out another expedition after discovering that machine—but he hadn’t expected them to send one so soon.
And sending back-to-back expeditions like this was basically announcing to other Centers that they’d found something. That’s probably why they were trying to keep it quiet. Hence, Kwon Hae-beom was sitting here with Tae-rim, going through a discreet Guiding session. Calling in Choi Jiwoon on a day he wasn’t even scheduled to return would’ve drawn way too much attention.
This was Kwon Hae-beom, after all. Not just any Esper—he wasn’t someone who bounced between multiple Guides. He only received Guiding from Choi Jiwoon.
So if a guy like Kwon Hae-beom, who’d been holding out with suppressants, suddenly called Jiwoon in for a session and then disappeared without a word? That’d be the same as waving a big red flag saying “Something’s up.”
“Thank you.”
“Good work.”
The exchange was curt as the session ended. The moment it was over, Kwon Hae-beom walked out of the room without looking back. Tae-rim let out a heavy sigh.
Was all that really necessary? It’s not like he gave even half a damn about Hae-beom. Not a speck. Still, for some reason, it left him feeling a little bitter.
The whole situation was kind of absurd. Anyone would notice if three S-rank Espers suddenly disappeared at the same time. And yet, they dragged Tae-rim all the way to a secluded Guiding room just to have him take care of Hae-beom, like that would somehow keep things under wraps.
As Seon Juho walked in, Tae-rim greeted him with a lopsided smile. Juho had been standing outside the whole time during the session.
“Hyung. Let’s form an Imprint.”
Juho suddenly pulled Tae-rim into a hug, practically begging. Tae-rim’s heart skipped a beat, but thankfully, he didn’t show it.
“I really can’t take seeing you Guiding someone else.”
Juho grumbled, but it was the usual kind of pouty complaint he always made. At this point, Tae-rim had gotten used to it.
“Hmm? Let’s Imprint.”
Juho scooted his chair forward, closing the gap between them as he clung to him. Tae-rim reached out and gently ran a hand through his hair.
“You know wanting it isn’t enough to make it happen.”
“But stiiill…”
“Maybe someday. You never know what life will bring.”
“I’m not joking, you know.”
Mumbling, Juho curled his big body into a ball and buried his head in Tae-rim’s chest. Seriously, what was he supposed to do with this giant man-child?
Finding it too endearing to resist, Tae-rim smiled and tousled his hair even more.
“You always treat me like a kid. What do I have to do to make you see me as a man?”
“You are a man.”
“You know that’s not what I meant!”
“Hahaha.”
Juho peeked up from Tae-rim’s arms, looking surprisingly serious. So Tae-rim decided to nip that mood in the bud.
“I like the cute version of Juho. If you suddenly try to act all manly and turn into some greasy old dude, I’ll seriously hate it.”
“Ugh…”
“Gross.”
“Seriously?!”
When Tae-rim drove it home with a firm “gross,” Juho looked completely crushed. Sure, being masculine didn’t automatically mean acting like a sleazy old guy—but Tae-rim really didn’t want the mood to get all heavy and weird out of nowhere.
Dragging along a thoroughly sulking Juho, Tae-rim stepped out of the Guiding room. Lunchtime was the perfect cover—no one was around, and this room was tucked far enough out of sight.
Tae-rim took Juho to the cafeteria for lunch. People were visibly startled seeing Juho trailing so closely behind him, practically clinging to his back, but Tae-rim didn’t even blink. He was used to it by now.
After they ate, Tae-rim was taken back to the site. With three S-rank Espers pulled from rotation, Seon Juho’s deployment had been moved up. Once again, Tae-rim found himself alone in the Guiding room with nothing to do for the afternoon.
He hardly ever left the room, which meant he had no chance of running into Choi Jiwoon. Jiwoon was currently undergoing retraining and stationed at Team 3’s B-rank Guiding room.
The person Tae-rim had been quietly, endlessly longing for… wouldn’t be showing up this week.
Oh well. Not like it has anything to do with me, he told himself, settling back into the calm.
But peace never lasted for long. Eventually—something happened.
Thank you for the translation