Han Ju-oh faced Director Kim Beom-hak. It was the second time since his last visit, when he came to take Seo-ha. With Han Ju-oh, who rarely spoke unless necessary, and Kim Beom-hak, who always seemed deep in thought, the atmosphere in the director’s office went beyond quiet—it was stifling.
“First of all, thank you.”
The words that came out of Kim Beom-hak’s mouth were unexpectedly gentle and refined, quite at odds with his furrowed expression.
“I mean for protecting Guide Baek from the explosion.”
Since Han Ju-oh didn’t respond, Kim Beom-hak added to his own words. There was only one thing he was truly grateful for: that Baek Seo-ha’s life had been saved.
“I only protected him because he’s my Guide.”
“I appreciate that sense of duty, too.”
“……”
As Han Ju-oh remained silent, seemingly unsure of what to say, Kim Beom-hak didn’t push the conversation. Instead, he sipped his coffee and served tea to Han Ju-oh. Whether he drank it or not was up to him; Kim Beom-hak simply offered it without comment.
“That’s all I wanted to say.”
Han Ju-oh’s brow twitched slightly in irritation, and even though he said nothing, the displeasure showed clearly on his face. Kim Beom-hak chuckled at that.
“You used to rush over excitedly with just one call when Guide Baek was here, and now you’re not happy to be summoned?”
It was a playful jab, teasing that Han Ju-oh seemed less than thrilled to be there now that he had nothing he wanted from the Center. Kim Beom-hak had grown quite fond of Han Ju-oh after meeting a few times over Seo-ha’s situation. Though, of course, Han Ju-oh had no such mutual feeling—his indifference made it entirely one-sided.
“I just thought I’d say hello and we’d do a little catching up.”
Han Ju-oh lifted his hips from the sofa as if to leave, then sat back down. It was amusing—without Seo-ha, being in this room felt dull. In truth, Han Ju-oh had no interest in anything except Seo-ha. Even Kim Beom-hak only warranted a visit because of his connection to Seo-ha. But it didn’t seem like he would be able to learn anything new today.
Why had he assumed there’d be nothing worth hearing? If he thought about it, there weren’t many people who knew Seo-ha as well as the director.
As Han Ju-oh’s thoughts shifted, so did his posture. He leaned slightly forward toward Kim Beom-hak and took a sip of the tea offered to him.
Kim Beom-hak smiled with amusement at the change. Once the air between them felt more open, he didn’t hesitate to speak the words he had kept inside.
“Do you know that I like Guide Baek?”
“……”
Han Ju-oh didn’t like how that opening sounded. Instead of answering, he merely cast a sideways glance.
“I was genuinely disappointed when he handed in his resignation. I shouldn’t have let him go, but I didn’t have the grounds to stop him.”
He had clung to a few flimsy justifications in an attempt to hold onto him. Kim Beom-hak hadn’t tried to retain Seo-ha just because he was an A-rank Guide. It was the various strengths and potential Seo-ha held that made him invaluable.
For a Guide, supporting an Esper always came first. That’s why most Guides chose to wait in the background, hoping their Esper wouldn’t get hurt. But Seo-ha was different.
Different from other Guides, he was like an ordinary adult man who always prepared to take up a weapon if needed. He wasn’t just passively helpful—he went above and beyond. Seo-ha himself claimed it was because he wasn’t good enough as a Guide, but Kim Beom-hak didn’t see it that way.
He had always acted with initiative, which only made it more frustrating that his matching rate never improved. He genuinely mourned the deaths of others and never let his guard down when he stepped into gates every day.
“Other than not taking care of himself, he’s a really solid person.”
There was only one thing about Seo-ha that Kim Beom-hak couldn’t accept: the way he had worn down and eroded his own sense of self-worth. Seo-ha was a perfectly fine human being—the only one who didn’t know that was Seo-ha himself.
“I can’t help but feel like I made him that way.”
“Why do you think that?”
It was the first question Han Ju-oh had asked.
“Because I kept holding onto Guide Baek.”
Han Ju-oh looked at him, eyes silently asking for more. Kim Beom-hak gave a bitter smile and glanced around the director’s office, his gaze tinged with regret.
“I kept telling him, ‘If we keep checking, we’ll eventually find your partner.’ I held onto him with that cruel bit of false hope. Even though I knew how others looked at him, I believed time would solve everything.”
Seo-ha moved more shrewdly than anyone else inside a dungeon—Kim Beom-hak had wanted to give him wings. He was good at everything, except for the one thing he lacked: an Esper with a high matching rate. And that one thing was enough for everyone to undervalue him.
Even now that Seo-ha had joined the White Guild, Kim Beom-hak still felt guilty for not protecting him back then.
“So, what you’re saying is…”
Han Ju-oh lifted his head, summarizing the conversation in a way that suited his own interpretation.
“There’s still a bunch of trash here that needs to be kicked out.”
“Kicked out? Trash?”
Kim Beom-hak tilted his head in confusion. He hadn’t heard about what Han Ju-oh did to those Espers at White Guild. Understandable, since the incident had been quietly dealt with within the guild, and the Esper involved kept his mouth shut to avoid shame.
Who would dare admit they got floored for mocking a Guide with a low match rate?
“I’ll leave the cleanup to you.”
Han Ju-oh rose from his seat, as if there was nothing more he wanted to hear. When he left the director’s office, his face had settled into an even colder, more expressionless mask.
In the atmosphere—thick with lingering discomfort—a knock sounded and the door opened.
“Director.”
“Oh, Guide Moon.”
It was Moon Roi.
“Did you have a good talk with Esper Han Ju-oh?”
As Moon Roi sat down on the sofa and made conversation, Director Kim Beom-hak let out a heavy sigh.
“How long and dramatic can a few words really be? It was just one sentence.”
“Still, you did the right thing. Honestly, you really wanted to say thank you, didn’t you?”
The other day, Moon Roi had called Director Kim Beom-hak to join their little celebration for Seo-ha’s matching rate increase. Afterward, they packed everything up and walked away like nothing had happened—but it hadn’t ended there.
“I contacted Guild Leader Kim Mi-yeon.”
After they agreed to keep the news of Seo-ha and Han Ju-oh’s increased matching rate confidential for now, Moon Roi had brought something up to Kim Beom-hak.
Since Kim had once mentioned that he wanted to thank Han Ju-oh someday, Moon suggested: why not just call him to the Center and tell him? Summoning Han Ju-oh seemed excessive, but Moon Roi had persuaded him with a point—if Kim went to the White Guild, Seo-ha might overhear.
“But it didn’t go all that well. I ended up saying something unnecessary…”
Director Kim’s face was full of regret. He should’ve just ended it with a simple thank-you. Now he was replaying it in his head, steeped in remorse. But surprisingly, Moon Roi wore a perfectly fresh, satisfied expression.
“No, you did well.”
“Did well? You know exactly how hard things have been for Seo-ha, and you say that? There’s no way Han Ju-oh enjoyed hearing that either.”
“Right. He definitely didn’t like it.”
And that was exactly what Moon Roi had hoped for.
“So just keep an eye on him.”
“Keep an eye on him? What are you talking about all of a sudden?”
“Looks like it’s about time for you to get to work, Director. I’ll be heading out.”
Moon Roi stood with a light heart and turned to say goodbye to Kim Beom-hak.
“Oh, right—did you hear that Esper Kang Kyung-hoon came into the Center today?”
“That, well…”
“Anyway, I’m off.”
With a look of deep satisfaction, Moon Roi stepped out. Kim Beom-hak shook his head, thinking what a sly bastard he was. Just as he was getting up to return to his work—
“Director!”
After a flurry of knocking, a secretary burst in.
***
“You said you knew someone who knew him, right?”
Han Ju-oh murmured words he had once heard from Seo-ha. Whether it was a branch center, a guild—those big buildings stuffed with Espers and Guides were all separate in name only. Everyone knew everyone.
Sometimes, only one organization would send a team into a gate. Other times, multiple groups would merge to form a single squad.
Among them, Seo-ha had become quite well-known thanks to a very distinctive trait. He’d apparently been through a large number of dungeons. That meant he’d crossed paths with almost every active Esper in South Korea.
“There’s so many of them that even the ones who treated my Guide like trash are just lying around waiting to be kicked.”
Han Ju-oh muttered to himself as he looked down at the Esper groaning beneath the door. He had overheard some things while passing by the Guiding Room. Because the door had been slightly ajar, Ha-cheol’s words had come through loud and clear.
Without hesitation, Han Ju-oh had kicked it open.
Kang Kyung-hoon, who had been slammed against the wall along with the flying door, was down and unable to get back up. Not only was the impact severe, but Han Ju-oh was still holding the door down with wind, physically preventing him from rising.
“Esper Han Ju-oh.”
Standing before him was a Guide, visibly startled, but who recognized Han Ju-oh right away. The loud crash had drawn a crowd, and one person silently slipped in among them. Unlike the startled onlookers, he wore a knowing smile, as if he’d expected this.
Moon Roi.
