Han Ju-oh took Baek Seo-ha to the White Guild.
Because he carried Seo-ha straight into the Guild Leader’s office, Seo-ha ended up making a scene—even in front of Guild Leader Kim Mi-yeon.
“I really wish you hadn’t. I just want to go about things normally, but my Esper’s the one acting out.”
Seo-ha laid all the blame on Han Ju-oh, but Guild Leader Kim Mi-yeon simply smiled and looked the other way.
Without even getting the chance to persuade her, Seo-ha was soon briefed on what had happened in the U.S., and the indignation vanished from his face as he turned serious.
“There really are a crazy number of Gates over there. Must be all that land, huh?”
Over a hundred had already been officially identified, and there were likely still more undiscovered ones scattered across the country. The U.S. had issued requests for international support—and had specifically requested Han Ju-oh from Korea.
It wasn’t just because of his rank. With Han Ju-oh’s long history of working in the States, they had probably figured he’d be easier to coordinate with than most other Espers.
“Our Ju-oh’s got quite the fanbase, huh.”
Seo-ha’s voice was teasing, but Han Ju-oh answered steadily.
“If you don’t want to go, I won’t go.”
They said half the Gates hadn’t even been rated yet. And if they stumbled upon a hidden Gate inside one of them, the grade could shift drastically. With all that in mind, it was clear the U.S. was a dangerously unpredictable place.
Han Ju-oh couldn’t afford to push Seo-ha into something like that for his own benefit. That’s why he asked for Seo-ha’s thoughts first.
Seo-ha crossed his arms and put on an exaggerated expression of contemplation.
“I wonder if anyone over there even knows my name.”
He lowered his voice as if brooding, and Han Ju-oh promptly offered a name.
“Ian knows you. But he probably hasn’t said anything.”
That’s just the kind of guy he is, Han Ju-oh added.
“Then I guess we’re going.”
Seo-ha made the decision far more easily than expected.
“Wouldn’t it be kind of nice? Working somewhere no one knows me? I’d get to plant a brand-new first impression.”
By now, Seo-ha’s image had changed considerably in Korea. But those who had met him back when his matching rate was low still remembered him as he was then.
Compared to that, starting fresh in a place where no one had any preconceived notions sounded a lot more exciting.
Since Seo-ha was on board, everything else moved forward without a hitch. As he was being dispatched as an official support agent, the U.S. sent over a transport plane of their own.
***
Espers who had just come out of the Gate scattered to different corners to catch their breath.
Personnel in protective suits approached, checking for virus exposure and assessing each Esper’s condition.
One Esper was drinking water when the Esper beside him tapped his arm.
“Hey, Benjamin. How many you think they’ll be sending over this time? Kinda reminds me of back in the day.”
“When was that?”
Since they couldn’t leave the field right away anyway, Benjamin entertained the conversation. The one who’d spoken—Jay—leaned in closer.
“Remember how I worked in Korea around three years ago? There was this one Guide I still can’t forget. Real strange guy. He’d rush up to any Esper he saw, begging to run a matching test—didn’t matter if they were male, female, old, young, foreign, local… even their rank didn’t matter.”
As soon as the word “Guide” came up, a few nearby Espers perked up and began to gather around. With all eyes on him, Jay’s voice grew more animated.
“I kept wondering why he was so desperate for matching tests. Then I found out—his rates were absolute garbage.”
“Yeah? But that happens sometimes, right?”
Benjamin tilted his head, but Jay shook his.
“Sure, you get Guides with low match rates. But this guy? No matter the Esper, he’d always get the exact same single-digit number. That’s what made him so weird.”
That kind of case was unheard of.
Feeling the growing curiosity around him, Jay lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.
“Three percent.”
“Three percent?”
Benjamin repeated it in shock, almost reflexively.
“Yeah. Every match came out to just 3%. No matter who it was.”
It was such an oddity that Jay still remembered it clearly.
“What was his name again…” he muttered, trying to recall.
“So what happened to him? Did he quit?”
Benjamin asked out of genuine curiosity, but Jay shook his head.
“I never followed up. But I’d bet he did. I mean, honestly—what kind of Esper would want to be guided by someone like that?”
“You never know. If he was good-looking enough, maybe someone would.”
Someone cut in with a cheeky remark, and the conversation quickly veered off in that direction.
“Even with the prettiest face in the world, a 3% match is a dealbreaker. Nah, I’m sure he quit.”
Back then, Jay had been too busy trying to adapt to a foreign country to bother digging any deeper into the rumors. He’d only heard about the Guide in passing.
Those who had shown a flicker of interest in Jay’s story soon drifted back to their own spots.
Fresh out of the Gate, all they wanted now was rest.
***
Seo-ha hadn’t expected being on foreign soil to feel this unmooring.
It wasn’t excitement—it was the sheer unfamiliarity.
He glanced around at the sea of English signs with a stiff, awkward expression.
“Hey, relax your face. People are gonna think this is your first time leaving the country.”
“This feels so weird. Doesn’t it bother you at all?” Seo-ha jabbed Moon Roi in the ribs as he shot back.
“I’ve been here a few times, you know.”
It wasn’t a vacation—it had always been for work—but there was no denying the smugness in his tone. Seo-ha gave him a glare before turning away and heading straight for his own partner.
“If I’d known I’d be stuck here with Moon Roi, I would’ve brought earplugs.”
Grumbling as he clung to Han Ju-oh, Seo-ha earned himself a gentle gesture—Han Ju-oh covered his ears with both hands.
“I’ll make sure you don’t hear a thing.”
His hands were so large they covered not just Seo-ha’s ears but most of his head, and yet Seo-ha just grinned like a kid, clearly enjoying it.
“So this is where you used to work?”
Still holding onto Han Ju-oh’s hand, Seo-ha looked out at the unfamiliar scenery.
“Yeah.”
“What’s it like here?”
“Hmm…”
As the transport plane rolled off into the distance and they waited for their contact to arrive, Han Ju-oh took a moment before answering.
“Same as anywhere else.”
“Seriously? This place feels completely foreign to me, and you’re telling me it’s the same?”
“Gates appear. If you don’t take out the boss in time, the Break happens. The monsters aren’t any different from what you’ve seen before.”
“Ah…”
Seo-ha suddenly got it. Of course Han Ju-oh would say it felt the same—he was an Esper through and through. His brain naturally defaulted to Gates. And honestly, when you thought about it, he wasn’t wrong.
For people like them, the Gate—and whatever happened inside it—was always the main focus.
“Let’s go to work!”
Seo-ha threw their clasped hands up into the air with a cheer. Right then, Moon Roi, who had been messaging with Ian, finally spoke up.
“They said we’re not going in today.”
“Then let’s go to work tomorrow!”
Seo-ha pivoted without missing a beat, but Moon Roi just blinked in confusion.
“They told us to stay put, you know?”
Wasn’t this the same guy who’d looked totally lost just moments ago? Why was he suddenly bouncing off the walls?
Finally, the representative from the International Gate Coordination Bureau showed up—with someone familiar in tow. Seo-ha spotted him instantly and greeted him with a smile.
“What’s going on?”
In response, Ian lifted the lanyard around his neck and showed his badge.
“I’ve been temporarily assigned as a translator.”
Since they’d be entering Gates together, they couldn’t exactly bring along a civilian interpreter. And trying to rely on hand signals would be a nightmare. Ian was the ideal solution. In fact, several Espers and Guides had been given interpreter roles, and the group naturally split into teams.
“From now on, just trust me and follow my lead.”
Ian’s warm smile landed like a direct hit on Moon Roi, and Seo-ha quietly stepped back, leaning toward Han Ju-oh.
“What kind of person is Ian into?”
Han Ju-oh didn’t answer. Instead, he lifted a finger and pointed—straight at Moon Roi.
‘Moon Roi? Seriously?’
“Why?”
Seo-ha gave him a look that said ‘He’s my friend, but really?’—but before he could say another word, a hand suddenly flew up in front of his face.
It was Moon Roi. He’d clearly heard every word of their whispering, and now it was payback time. Grabbing both of Seo-ha’s cheeks, he squished them with full force.
“What I want to know is, how the hell did someone like you land a boyfriend before me, huh?”
Even back when Seo-ha had no Esper and a pathetic matching rate, Moon Roi—who was a perfectly functional Guide—had stayed single.
“Why are you blaming me for your lonely love life?”
Seo-ha shot back instantly, unfazed, and Moon Roi flicked his lips in irritation.
“That mouth is the problem. You little…”
“Nope. I said exactly what needed to be said.”
Seo-ha peeled Moon Roi’s hands off and rubbed his now-flushed cheeks. Then, pointing at Ian, he spelled it out.
Moon Roi glanced over at Ian on reflex—then snapped his head back around even faster.
“What the hell.”
“What do you mean, ‘what’? I’m telling you—he’s definitely going to come after you.”
Ian had looked absolutely thrilled when he found out Moon Roi was single.
Seo-ha straight up telling his friend take the mountain man who wants you. Had me cackling.