Bathed in the morning sunlight spilling across his face, Seo-ha blinked groggily. ‘Why am I here again?’ Forcing himself out of his daze, he finally took in his surroundings.
It was the house provided by the White Guild. Han Ju-oh had received the key and personally brought him here. The moment they stepped inside, Seo-ha had thrown himself onto the bed.
Everything after that was a blackout.
“…So this is…”
His voice came out hoarse, so he shut his mouth again. Instead, he stood up and slowly stepped out of the room.
‘It’s spacious.’
That was the first thought that crossed his mind. The layout was easily three times the size of the place he used to live in. The living room was a given—there were three bedrooms and even two bathrooms.
He stared curiously at the island in the kitchen, and only then did the reality of everything finally sink in.
“I actually took the job.”
It wasn’t even like he’d submitted a resignation letter to change jobs, but somehow, he’d ended up in a better place with a fully-furnished unit in a newly constructed building.
Turning his body, Seo-ha leaned against the island bar. It had just about everything he needed…
“I should probably get some curtains.”
The sunlight that woke him felt more like someone had been shining a flashlight directly into his eyelids.
“Got any water?”
Opening the fridge to check, he wasn’t surprised to find it completely empty. He’d already guessed as much when the cold air hit his face.
“Do I at least have some ramen?”
It felt too late to call it morning, but he hadn’t eaten anything properly since that hamburger. What did he have again? Coffee… and more coffee. He’d had some tea too. And a madeleine. But that was nowhere near enough.
Clutching his growling stomach, Seo-ha started debating whether to order food but ended up breaking into a quiet laugh.
Yesterday’s incident, the one that had completely wrecked his mental state, popped into his head.
“If anyone insults my Guide again, it won’t end like this next time.”
One, because the warning had been so slick and theatrical. Two, because despite being just a warning, Espers had gone flying in every direction. He almost laughed.
He used to fantasize about knocking people across the room whenever they badmouthed him, but that fantasy had come true. Thankfully, Ju-oh had only sent Espers flying, so it hadn’t escalated into a full-blown incident. Still, as those Espers slowly got back on their feet, they glanced at Seo-ha with the dead, wilted eyes of men who’d lost their dignity.
They clearly weren’t going to badmouth him again. And… a few of them were even being helped up by their Guides—who didn’t look too pleased either.
Their Espers had been humiliated, and while they were upset about it, they couldn’t exactly file a complaint, so their frustration showed. Their glares weren’t aimed at Han Ju-oh.
They were aimed at Seo-ha.
And in those glares was something unmistakable…
“Never thought I’d live to see the day.”
Getting glared at out of jealousy—by another Guide, of all people. What a world.
Of course, since their side was the one at fault, they turned away soon enough. But he had read that emotion loud and clear. That unspoken clash of pride and ego among Guides based on their Espers’ ranking. Seo-ha had always been left out of that world.
Not that he had any right to be included—he didn’t even have a paired Esper.
There had been one Esper he’d once hoped to bond with, maybe even imprint with, but given the circumstances, they’d never officially paired up.
“Honestly, this might not be so bad.”
It felt like things might never return to the way they were. That thought alone made his heart tremble a little. It wasn’t the first time someone had stood up for him—Moon Roi often got worked up on his behalf, and Director Kim Beom-hak had tried hard to find him an Esper.
But no one had ever gotten under his skin like that before. There was a deep, cathartic satisfaction in watching someone tear through all the pent-up resentment he’d buried over the years in one go.
“Man, I’m really craving something refreshing this morning.”
Thinking over a list of potential options, Seo-ha smacked his lips.
***
Chugging cola with a satisfying sigh, Seo-ha grabbed his hamburger again, slightly twisted it to face him better, and took a huge bite.
“Pretty sure he’s not going into dungeons anytime soon…”
His muttered words were, of course, about Han Ju-oh. The man had gone into Gates more times than the guidelines issued by the Control Center permitted.
From what Seo-ha knew, it had already happened three times. The third time could be excused, since Ju-oh had been right there when the Gate manifested—but even then, he had clearly exceeded the allowed limit.
So for the time being, it would likely be a cycle of training and rest. Seo-ha would move according to Han Ju-oh’s schedule. With no extra responsibilities weighing on him, he could probably enjoy a full month of proper rest.
“Feels good. It really does, but… I can’t quite put it into words.”
Normally, if you end up working overtime right after joining a company, it sucks. You’d probably question whether you made the right decision, or even regret joining in the first place. But Seo-ha was the opposite.
It was more like… a project had just ended, and someone had clapped him on the shoulder saying, “Good job. Take a break before the next one starts.” So why couldn’t he relax?
Despite the unease he couldn’t quite explain, his mouth kept working diligently, chewing through the burger.
“What’s the point of overthinking it? I mean, I haven’t even properly synced with Han Ju-oh yet…”
He swept the fries together, shoved them all into his mouth, and started chewing—until he mentally chewed on Ju-oh too, and then suddenly stopped.
“So that’s the feeling. Like I’m floating in space…”
He had never once matched step with Han Ju-oh.
Though he had gone through a few dungeons with him before, they hadn’t been partners back then.
Becoming a partner wasn’t a simple matter. For instance, if the Esper had a wide-area attack ability, the Guide had to make sure to maintain a safe distance ahead of time. On top of that, it was critical to read the Esper’s condition quickly and accurately in order to provide timely guidance. There were countless things to keep track of, from start to finish.
“So it’s not like I’ve got nothing to do.”
He’d stepped in right as a project was ending, so now he needed to familiarize himself with the workflow—like testing the copier or getting to know his coworkers before the next project started. Seo-ha had plenty on his plate.
Once his thoughts settled, his body moved on its own. He cleaned up his food and stepped outside.
***
The Esper training room within the Guild. It was as spacious as a school sports field, equipped with energy-absorption walls capable of withstanding any attack, and a standby facility repair team ready to rush in if the space was damaged during combat. It was all perfectly arranged.
Heat radiated from Han Ju-oh’s body as he moved with full force, the sweltering air seeping through his clothes. He wasn’t using much of his abilities—if he had, the training room wouldn’t have remained recognizable.
Just enough.
Enough to beat the crap out of them.
“Gah!”
An Esper crashed into the wall like a bullet. Cracks spiderwebbed out from the impact point, spreading like a drought-stricken riverbed. Smoke rose from the Esper’s body.
“Next.”
Ju-oh flicked his fingers like he didn’t have time to waste, and another Esper hesitantly stepped forward from the corner, gritting his teeth.
“Just let me land one hit— AAGH!”
This Esper specialized in speed, and had charged in hoping to at least get a single hit in before being struck—but Ju-oh’s casual backhand connected faster than the Esper’s rush. The blow launched him across the room.
He tumbled across the floor, looking so pitiful that even the spectators winced.
“Next.”
Ju-oh turned his eyes toward the rest of the Esper group still remaining. These were the same ones who’d run their mouths about Seo-ha yesterday.
Back then, they’d been taken by surprise. Today, under the guise of training, they were on the verge of being formally obliterated.
“Yesterday… we got the message, loud and clear.”
The Esper, realizing it was his turn, tried to resolve things with words instead of charging forward. Even if Ju-oh was holding back, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t go flying like the others. Sparring with an S-Class Esper was definitely beneficial—but not like this.
But Ju-oh didn’t lower his fists.
“Do those look like the eyes of someone who got the message?”
So it was about yesterday after all.
“I want my Guide to be able to work in peace.”
“…”
Ju-oh didn’t even bother hiding his intentions.
“As long as he’s working here, I don’t want him to deal with petty insults or jealous stares.”
Now it all made sense. Yesterday, not just the Espers who’d gone flying, but even their paired Guides had given Baek Seo-ha dirty looks. They may have been useless in combat, but their eyes clearly blamed him for everything that happened.
Even now, they were fuming in silence.
“We only said a few words…”
“It wasn’t just us. Honestly, anyone who knows Baek Seo-ha has probably said something.”
As the Esper stammered out excuses, the faces of the other Espers—who had been quietly channeling power on the sidelines—turned pale. It was obvious from a distance.
That Esper had just started digging his own grave.
“I’ll make sure he’s never uncomfortable.”
“I’ll apologize to Guide Baek Seo-ha.”
“I’ll bring him snacks every day!”
The others, excluding the one who had just spoken, quickly shouted promises to save their own skins. Only then did the eyes of the one voicing complaints start to shake.
“W-Wait, that’s not what I meant—GAHHH!”
The Esper went flying without resistance.
