The awkward dinner finally came to an end, and everyone retreated to their rooms. It felt like an unspoken rule—to spend the night alone before stepping into the gate tomorrow.
No one knew what kind of terrain lay ahead, or what monsters might emerge. If a creature beyond their capabilities showed up, they could die on the spot. Some even wrote wills before entering a gate.
Seo-ha carefully packed his belongings.
“Do I need this too?”
With no way to wash his hair inside the dungeon, he considered bringing dry shampoo. He didn’t know how long they’d be in there, so it seemed smart to pack it—but it could also end up being unnecessary baggage. He couldn’t just toss in everything at random. He had to pack what was essential, and only that. Striking the right balance was key.
When Han Ju-oh stepped into the room and saw the mess of items scattered across the floor, he stopped short. He’d seen this scene enough times to know better, and instinctively turned to leave the way he came. Dealing with Seo-ha during packing was exhausting—even for him.
“Ju-oh, sit down.”
Too late. Seo-ha had already spotted him. With a resigned sigh, Ju-oh stepped carefully between the clutter and made his way over.
“Do you think I’ll need this?”
Seo-ha held up the dry shampoo. Ju-oh’s face twisted slightly. This was exactly why he’d wanted to avoid coming in. Seo-ha would hold up every item he was unsure about and ask for input. Ju-oh’s answer was always “no,” but over time, he’d figured out how this worked.
“It’s small—travel size. I think it could fit perfectly in this corner.”
Ju-oh reached deep into the bag and unzipped an inner pocket. Seo-ha slipped it in right away.
“Knew it. I thought that spot looked perfect too. See? I was right to ask you.”
His voice brightened. Humming a cheerful tune, Seo-ha moved on to the next item. His expression was light and unbothered, as if he’d completely forgotten Jay calling him that guy from the rumors.
“Ju-oh. What about this?”
Just as he lifted a spool of fishing line, Seo-ha caught the serious look on Ju-oh’s face.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Are you really okay?”
Seo-ha chuckled softly at the question, calmly tying off the fishing line to keep it from unraveling before tucking it into a pouch.
“If it’s eating at you, you should’ve said something to him earlier. You know—‘If you lay a hand on my boyfriend, I won’t let it slide.’ That sort of thing.”
“Want me to go say it now?”
The way Ju-oh said it, he sounded perfectly ready to storm off and grab Jay by the collar. Seo-ha shook his head with a faint smile.
“If that would actually fix anything, be my guest.”
He said it knowing full well Ju-oh wouldn’t go. He understood why Ju-oh had held Ian back earlier. Sure, they could have stormed over to Jay and demanded an apology on the spot. But it would only stir up more tension within the team. Any apology forced like that would be meaningless.
“I’ll prove him wrong. That’s enough, isn’t it?”
Seo-ha gave a sly grin as he twirled his collapsible baton between his fingers. Just disapproving of him wouldn’t make him disappear. Even if he really was that “3% matching rate Guide,” that didn’t change the fact that he was going in with them.
Turning back to his packing, Seo-ha picked up an umbrella, spinning it in his hand.
“It’s not going to rain in there, right?”
Ju-oh didn’t answer. He simply took the umbrella and slid it into the bag. Everything Seo-ha had laid out was something he’d regret not bringing. That meant there was only one answer.
“Just bring it all. I’ll carry it.”
‘Do whatever you want. I’ve got you.’
***
The next morning, even as the mission briefing got underway, glances kept flicking Seo-ha’s way. The tension still hadn’t lifted. No one had said anything to address the elephant in the room—they were simply going through the motions of the usual pre-gate protocol.
Amid them, Seo-ha mentally reviewed where each item was packed, right up until the last second. While loosening up his ankles, he focused on Ian’s voice.
“If I’m not around, follow JO’s decisions. This gate’s rated A, but don’t let your guard down.”
Ian laid out the chain of command and ran through the key points about the gate. Back in Korea, when Ju-oh had been team leader, Ian had worked behind the scenes to support him. They said they were friends, and it showed—they could communicate without words. A single glance was enough. Maybe that’s why Ian had designated Ju-oh as sub-leader this time.
Those who knew Ju-oh’s strength had no objections. The only concern was whether his Guide could keep up with him when he pushed too hard.
“Then let’s move out.”
Ian took the lead, and the team followed in single file. At the very back, Seo-ha walked beside Han Ju-oh, holding in all the emotions swirling inside him.
“No matter the country, the feeling of stepping into a gate is always the same. A mix of fear… and the strange thrill of diving into the unknown. It’s kind of exciting.”
When Seo-ha glanced over, silently asking what about you?, Ju-oh didn’t look back. His eyes stayed on the road ahead—but he gave a steady nod.
“I used to feel anxious. But now… I’m excited. My heart feels like it’s going to burst.”
Han Ju-oh turned to Seo-ha.
“Like when I kiss you.”
“…You really don’t hold back, do you? Always saying exactly what you feel. No filter at all.”
Seo-ha clicked his tongue in disbelief, but Han Ju-oh just smiled easily.
“I’ve always been like this. I say what I want, and I hate waiting on slow replies. Want me to say more?”
Seo-ha was about to laugh—until he froze.
“Wait… don’t tell me you heard what I said last night?”
“I don’t care what you call me. Rude, asshole—it’s all fine.”
“…So you did hear it.”
Seo-ha muttered, stunned, just as someone’s back came into view ahead of them. Moon Roi, who had been walking right in front of them this whole time, must’ve heard everything. Yet he didn’t turn around, pretending not to have noticed a thing. What a shameless bastard.
Han Ju-oh really was infuriating. He’d clearly heard everything, acted like he hadn’t, and even tricked Seo-ha with that skeptical look—Seo-ha had completely fallen for it.
“Whatever version of you it is, being with you is enough for me.”
“God, Ju-oh. You say corny stuff like that so naturally—so why were you such a nightmare in the beginning? So touchy, irritable, always pissed off.”
“I think you were the sensitive one, not me.”
“You never back down, do you?”
While the rest of the team was exchanging solemn goodbyes and parting words, Seo-ha and Han Ju-oh were either bickering or flirting—no one could really tell which.
Still, Seo-ha’s expression had noticeably softened. As the tension eased, so did his body, and his steps grew lighter.
Ian stepped into the gate first and vanished, followed one by one by the others.
***
Ssshhhh—
They hadn’t even fully exited the cave when a familiar sound met their ears.
“Is that rain?” someone murmured.
Without a word, Seo-ha pulled an umbrella and raincoat from his bag.
“Here.”
He handed the raincoat to Han Ju-oh.
“I’d love to stroll next to you under the same umbrella and enjoy the sound of rain… but this really isn’t the time.”
Han Ju-oh didn’t protest. He slipped on the raincoat, and Seo-ha gently pulled the hood over his head, fastening it securely so it wouldn’t shift. Then he opened his umbrella. The others quickly followed suit, hurrying to get ready.
Once they stepped out of the cave, they were met with a heavy downpour.
“Gonna be slippery out here.”
“Ground’s already mushy. And we can barely see ahead—it’s dangerous.”
They assessed the situation swiftly, even before fully exiting the cave.
“But we can’t exactly sit around waiting for the rain to stop, can we? Let’s go. Just don’t break formation.”
Ian took the lead, ready for any attacks, while Han Ju-oh brought up the rear, protecting the team. That was the plan, and one by one, they emerged from the cave.
Seo-ha walked under his umbrella, glancing up at the sky. Raindrops skittered down the clear plastic surface. He stopped for a moment, watching them, then held out one hand beyond the umbrella’s edge.
As the droplets landed on his palm, something strange caught his attention. He turned to Han Ju-oh.
“This isn’t normal rain.”
His quiet words reached Ju-oh first—but soon the other Espers began to speak up as well.
“Umbrellas, raincoats—it doesn’t matter. The water’s clinging. It won’t slide off.”
The rain wasn’t harmful to the touch, but its gelatinous, sticky texture made movement sluggish. The team looked around, confused and irritated. Instinctively, their eyes fell on Seo-ha and Han Ju-oh.
Oddly, neither their umbrella nor their raincoat had any rain sticking to them.
“Oh, I had a feeling something like this might happen, so I treated ours with a special chemical. Looks like it worked.”
Seo-ha said it casually, like it was no big deal. Then he pulled something out of his bag and handed it to Moon Roi.
“You should spray this. And give some to Ian, too.”
