As soon as they stepped into the gate, a long tunnel stretched out before them. Walking forward, guided only by a faint pinprick of light in the distance, Baek Seo-ha couldn’t help but be distracted by the heat of Han Ju-oh’s body brushing against his arm.
“Hey.”
Even though it was so dim that he could barely make out the back of the person in front of him, he could still feel Han Ju-oh turn to look directly at his face.
“You know… that thing.”
Han Ju-oh looked confused, as if he didn’t get it, so Seo-ha was about to just blurt it out—but he became conscious of the others nearby and began circling around the topic instead.
“No, I mean, that thing—you know, the massive thing you’ve got.”
You seriously still don’t get it?
“You know, the thing we’ve been doing all the time lately. Showing it off, swinging it around, bam bam… You really don’t know what I’m talking about?”
“Say it.”
It was only after Han Ju-oh showed he finally understood that Seo-ha quietly lowered the fist he’d raised in frustration. He’d nearly exploded. It wasn’t like he was explaining it in some impossibly cryptic way.
He’s obviously talking about the ability. The psychic power.
The reason for bringing it up wasn’t anything special. Until now, he’d just thought it was kind of enviable—how Han Ju-oh could freely wield that power. Seo-ha, with his own guiding abilities clogged up like a dam inside him, had always found Han Ju-oh’s dynamic, unrestrained way of attacking to be impressively cathartic.
But now… he was starting to think differently. Was it really such a great thing to have to use that power while constantly hovering on the edge of a breakdown?
It was like… comparing faucets. If Seo-ha was like one with a missing handle, barely letting out an occasional drip, then Han Ju-oh was like a faucet with water gushing out so forcefully that the screws had come loose and it was about to blow off entirely.
Why the faucet metaphor?
“Tone it down a little. It’s not like we’re the only ones here.”
Because there was a limit to how much guiding he could provide. Ideally, if they were just sparring in the training room, 3% of Ju-oh’s ability would be plenty. But a dungeon was unpredictable. Still, it had to be better than not thinking about it at all, right? Given that this gate was ranked lower than Han Ju-oh’s level, it seemed like it could be manageable.
“Ahem.”
Someone up ahead coughed awkwardly and turned their head. The Esper next to him quickly covered his mouth. Maybe they were pretending not to hear since Han Ju-oh was right there, but they clearly weren’t doing a great job of hiding it.
What’s so weird about telling someone to tone down their power?
“Well…”
Han Ju-oh replied flatly.
“What?”
“It’s not something I can just shut off whenever I feel like it.”
Fair enough. Things inside the dungeon didn’t exactly move according to Han Ju-oh’s will. If the situation got serious, he’d have to use his power even if it strained his body. And honestly, no one would know that better than Han Ju-oh himself. He didn’t even like mechanical guiding, yet he probably had his reasons for relying on it. From what Seo-ha had seen, he didn’t seem like someone who enjoyed being in pain, either.
Still, he didn’t strike him as the reckless type, charging in without thinking. Just as Seo-ha was having that thought, Han Ju-oh suddenly turned his head and locked eyes with him.
They had reached the end of the tunnel, and it was bright enough now that Han Ju-oh’s face was clearly visible. Seo-ha, who had been following closely behind, came to a sudden stop and blinked when they were face-to-face.
“But since you’re worried, I’ll take it easy.”
“Me? I just…”
He’d said it because it was dangerous to use too much power—not because he was worried. But Han Ju-oh seemed to take it more seriously than expected, and that made the whole exchange feel strangely off. The way he looked at him—wasn’t it kind of like someone worried about their lover? That wasn’t it at all. As a coworker, Seo-ha was just commenting on how Ju-oh kept charging into the front lines. The guy who runs in first always gets hit the most in a gang fight. In any case, saying ‘I’m not worried’ wouldn’t help, so he figured it was better to just play along.
“I’ll do my best to keep an eye on things too.”
Now that they were in the dungeon, he was going to keep tabs on Han Ju-oh and prioritize him above all.
“It’s our first dungeon together as a pair. Gotta be careful.”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
The conversation ended on a surprisingly warm note—so why did the people ahead of them keep glancing back?
***
So that’s what felt off.
“I missed the most important thing.”
This was their first dungeon together as an official pair. All the previous times had just been as part of the same subjugation team. This was their first time going in as partners. Seo-ha had been trailing behind Han Ju-oh to the training room so often lately, preparing meticulously, thinking he was all set… only for the real trouble to come from an unexpected place.
The end of the long tunnel opened up into a lush forest, showcasing a picturesque natural landscape. There was even a small but robust waterfall nearby, and the vibrant greenery was naturally soothing to the eyes.
At least it wasn’t a desert or some cracked wasteland. The air was fresh, and the environment itself wasn’t bad. The real issue was figuring out where to settle.
If no monsters showed up right after entering a dungeon, it was common practice to find a spot to set up camp and start the hunt from there. Just like that, everyone began picking out their preferred spots near the waterfall. Seo-ha, still sticking close to Han Ju-oh, started looking for a suitable place himself—but nothing really stood out.
“The ground’s uneven and damp.”
Muttering to himself like someone choosing a camping spot, Seo-ha glanced over to see Han Ju-oh scanning the area, clearly looking for someone.
“I need to set up traps, so stay here.”
Seo-ha quickly grabbed Han Ju-oh’s arm as he started walking over to the Esper in charge of laying traps.
“You want me to stay here? I was just about to check over there.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re trying to find a place to settle. There’s nothing here but rocks—it’s hard to even sit down. It’s slippery, too, with all the water.”
Seo-ha pointed to the spray from the waterfall, but Han Ju-oh looked not at his fingertip, but straight into his face.
“Isn’t being prepared for danger more important?”
“Of course it is. I’m just saying I’ll go check over there.”
It wasn’t like he was planning to wander far. He was talking about moving within visible range, but Han Ju-oh still didn’t seem to like it.
“I can’t stop worrying about you.”
“Then stop worrying and go set up your traps. I’ll just do my own thing.”
“Stay where I can see you.”
“I said I would!”
Frustration flared, and Seo-ha ended up raising his voice without meaning to. The disapproval in Han Ju-oh’s expression only deepened. After a silent standoff, Seo-ha finally gave in and perched himself on a nearby rock.
“Go on.”
Han Ju-oh’s furrowed brow relaxed. Fine—he could go lay his traps and then come back and find a proper spot afterward. The others would probably have taken all the good spots by then, but it wasn’t like arguing would change his mind.
Seo-ha crossed his arms and gestured for him to hurry up. Only then did Han Ju-oh finally move.
Five steps. Exactly five.
He walked just five steps before talking to the Esper assigned to trap installation, and Seo-ha was completely dumbfounded.
“What the hell.”
Han Ju-oh was walking over to that Esper up there—and yet he was the one being told not to stray too far? To stay in plain sight?
“What a fucking lunatic…”
The words slipped out completely uncensored. Surely this wasn’t the start of something…
***
This time, they clashed over something else entirely.
After Han Ju-oh moved a few rocks during the day and they finally managed to claim a spot, Seo-ha had assumed they were done bickering for the day. But no.
As evening fell and everyone began eating their portable meals, Seo-ha took his own food out of his bag and held it out to Han Ju-oh. But instead of accepting it, Han Ju-oh simply looked at it.
“Why aren’t you eating?”
“Fighting’s easier on an empty stomach.”
“And how do you know if a monster’s going to show up on an empty stomach or a full one?”
It was ridiculous, but that didn’t mean he could just say, “Fine, do whatever you want.” Just look around—other Espers and Guides were either eating face-to-face with their pairs, or gathered in same-role groups.
Everyone was eating, so why the hell was he refusing?
“The sun’s about to set. What, you planning to skulk around whining about being hungry later?”
“I get more sensitive at night. That’s why I don’t eat then.”
“Then eat now.”
“What if a monster shows up?”
“Ha. Hahaha.”
This was absurd.
All he could do was laugh dryly. This felt familiar—like something similar had happened before. Anyway, he aimed his words straight at the brick wall that insisted it wouldn’t eat no matter what.
“What if the monster doesn’t show up for a whole week?”
“……”
“Has that ever happened to you?”
“……”
Oh, it has.
“So you’ve always done this? You afraid you’ll get eaten if you’re full? You don’t want the monster to get a hearty meal? Or is it some kind of superstition?”
Now that the topic was out in the open, he let the words tumble out one after another. Han Ju-oh didn’t show much of a reaction, then replied in a dry tone.
“I’m not so lacking in confidence that I need to rely on superstition.”
Wow…
If anyone else said something like that, they’d get called arrogant. But he just tossed it out so naturally, like it was second nature. And that wasn’t even the end of it.
“I’ve also never been weak enough to worry about eating meals.”
Eating three square meals a day was normal for most people. Did that make him weak? Was he the abnormal one for managing to eat three times a day even inside a dungeon?
“…Fine. Eat or don’t. I’m going to eat.”
He plopped down onto the ground and opened up his food.
“No wonder you showed up empty-handed. That’s what this is about. Of course. I can’t believe someone like this actually exists. I hate it. I seriously hate this.”
He grumbled openly, not caring whether Han Ju-oh heard or not.
They were totally incompatible.
