Guild Leader Kim Mi-yeon had summoned every relevant member of the guild.
Seated in the most secluded corner of the underground conference hall, Seo-ha watched as one chair after another filled up before him. He hadn’t realized it before, since everyone was usually scattered about, but there were quite a lot of people.
Watching them all file in with grim faces kept him from feeling bored.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
Han Ju-oh asked, eyeing Seo-ha.
“Just… gathering my thoughts while watching all this.”
When Seo-ha added that it was like watching the city lights drift by, Han Ju-oh didn’t press further. With that, Seo-ha was able to sink back into thought, resting his arms on the seat in front of him and leaning his face against them.
The newly emerged gate was estimated to be S-rank. White Guild only had one S-class Esper—Han Ju-oh. There was no strict rule that White Guild had to be the one to handle it just because the gate had appeared nearby. Still, when a team was being formed, Han Ju-oh would almost certainly be mentioned.
‘The matching rate still isn’t high enough.’
Seo-ha had been guiding regularly, but he hadn’t found a way to significantly improve the match rate. If it came down to raw power inside the dungeon, Seo-ha wouldn’t be able to keep up.
‘It’d be best not to go in at all.’
White Guild might only have one S-class Esper, but there were others in different centers or guilds. And international support could also be called in if needed. Seo-ha decided that it would be best to stay out of this gate as much as possible.
Since Han Ju-oh had just returned from a gate, they probably wouldn’t push him into this one either. Seo-ha resolved to simply observe the emergency meeting in silence.
“Ju-oh.”
Han Ju-oh turned with a frown. Only then did Seo-ha realize—he didn’t like being addressed so familiarly. That explained why he’d acted strange the last time too.
“Let’s not step forward this time.”
Seo-ha advised him to stay out of it, then leaned back. His seat was hidden from the lights, casting his body into shadow.
Once everyone had gathered, the lights brightened around the podium. The echo of high heels followed as Kim Mi-yeon made her appearance. Climbing onto the podium, she swept her gaze across the room.
“This is the first time we’ve gathered like this since the guild was founded.”
With that light greeting, a few chuckles fluttered through the room before fading. But no one could fully shake the tension brought on by the gate.
Reading the room, Kim Mi-yeon’s expression hardened. At her signal, the projector whirred to life, and a photo filled the screen. Most in the room had already seen this gate. Kim Mi-yeon pointed to it with a laser pen.
“The Gate Control Center will make the official announcement, but it’s currently classified as S-rank. That makes it the 32nd in Korea.”
“I have a question.”
Someone seated near the front raised their hand. Kim Mi-yeon nodded, signaling them to speak.
“As far as I know, there have only been 30 S-rank gates in Korea so far. Shouldn’t this one be the 31st?”
The implication was that there might’ve been a mistake in the rush to compile the data. Kim Mi-yeon nodded as if impressed.
“A sharp question. You’re right—it should be the 31st.”
That meant it wasn’t a mistake. Seo-ha leaned forward again, realizing what she was about to say.
“This gate appeared at 13:25. Exactly three minutes earlier, another gate appeared near Seongsu-dong. That one is also being classified as S-rank.”
She clicked to the next photo, revealing the gate that had appeared in a different region.
The room fell silent. Despite the crowd, not a single person spoke. Everyone was too shocked. Seo-ha was no different.
‘No way. Another S-rank gate…?’
They’d already been agonizing over one. And now, there was another. And then…
Seo-ha scanned the photo. The location of the gate felt familiar, but something else stood out—something odd.
“Is that a cloud above it?”
Someone else who had been studying the photo asked. Kim Mi-yeon turned to her secretary, who zoomed in. The image pixelated, but the form resembling a dark cloud confirmed that it was indeed part of the gate.
“Are you telling us there’s another gate?”
Seo-ha’s voice came out like a groan. What the hell was going on? He didn’t want to believe it, but the reality was clear—multiple gates had emerged simultaneously.
The rank alone was troubling, but now the quantity was becoming a problem. It felt like the emergency alert from earlier was echoing in his mind all over again.
“Calm down.”
Han Ju-oh placed a hand on Seo-ha’s shoulder. The warmth was comforting, but Seo-ha couldn’t erase the grim expression from his face.
“How do you expect me to stay calm after seeing that? These gates just popped up out of nowhere, like mushrooms after rain.”
“It’s not like this hasn’t happened before.”
“When has it ever—?”
Seo-ha cut himself off mid-protest, finally understanding what Han Ju-oh was implying.
“A Gate Wave?”
His voice trembled.
In the past, when there wasn’t much data, gates were thought to appear at random. But as time passed, patterns began to emerge. They tended to show up in urban centers, and within any given city, one gate typically appeared every three to five days.
When a gate appears, it typically takes anywhere from half a day to a full day to assess its rank and assemble a team. Humanity had learned to coexist with gates in that manner—until one day, everything changed.
A massive tidal wave surged across a previously calm coastline. The wave struck land and mercilessly tore through everything in its path. But what shocked people even more than the devastation it left behind was the gate it deposited in its wake.
More than ten gates. Before their ranks could even be determined, a break occurred, and monsters burst out from them. What followed was nothing short of a catastrophe.
That was when the term “Gate Wave” was born.
“Are you saying this is the same thing? But we’re nowhere near the sea.”
“The location doesn’t matter. The point is, multiple gates can appear at once.”
Han Ju-oh accepted the current situation swiftly and rationally. Honestly, Seo-ha wasn’t in denial either—it was just that he didn’t want to accept it. The thought of what might happen if they failed to clear all the gates was terrifying.
Just then, Kim Mi-yeon leaned in to listen to something her secretary whispered. She turned back toward the room with a grim tone.
“As of this moment, we are declaring a national state of emergency. During a state of emergency, restrictions on Espers entering gates will be temporarily lifted.”
It meant Espers could now enter gates multiple times a month, and that Han Ju-oh’s abilities might be pushed to their absolute limit.
“So there’s no avoiding it after all…”
Seo-ha let out a heavy sigh.
***
As soon as the meeting ended, Seo-ha called Moon Roi.
—Hello.
As soon as he heard Moon Roi’s weary voice, Seo-ha got straight to the point.
“Did a gate appear in front of the Center?”
—So they told you already. Yeah. An S-rank gate popped up here. It just dropped out of the sky and swept through the entire area. I almost got caught in it.
“You said it wasn’t just one.”
—Aren’t you worried about me at all?
“And who do you think I’m talking to right now?”
He brushed it off, saying Moon Roi was alive and talking, wasn’t he? But even so, Seo-ha switched the call from voice to video.
—Look, I got scratched here.
Moon Roi tapped at his cheek, but the video quality was too poor to see anything clearly. Seo-ha stared quietly at the screen, and Moon Roi shifted his tone irritably.
—Thirteen gates showed up here. What the hell is going on? You just got discharged and might have to enter a gate again. Damn it, Seo-ha. If there’s any way to get you out of this, can you ask for it?
Even in the middle of all this, Moon Roi was worried about him. Seo-ha felt a flicker of gratitude for his concern—but only for a moment.
“I can’t get out of it.”
—Huh?
“A gate appeared here too.”
Having just heard about the number of gates on Moon Roi’s end, Seo-ha now told him about the ones that had emerged in his area as well.
***
“I called the two of you because I have something to discuss.”
From the moment she summoned them, Seo-ha hadn’t been able to relax. He had a good idea of what Kim Mi-yeon was going to say, and that made him reluctant to come. When she turned from Han Ju-oh to look at Seo-ha, her gaze met his tense expression.
“No need to be so nervous.”
“In a situation like this, not being nervous would be weirder.”
Seo-ha replied flatly and then gently pushed Han Ju-oh deeper into the sofa. He sat slightly in front of him, almost as if shielding him. Kim Mi-yeon’s expression shifted subtly—she seemed to realize what Seo-ha was trying to do, even though it wouldn’t actually hide Han Ju-oh.
“The government has already contacted us. They want Esper Han Ju-oh deployed.”
Just as expected—the Gate Control Center had called for Han Ju-oh. With a national emergency in effect, personal circumstances like the fact that he’d just returned from a gate likely wouldn’t matter anymore.
“And they also want him to work with another Guide.”
That was why Kim Mi-yeon had chosen to speak with Seo-ha rather than Han Ju-oh. The nation, desperate for a resolution, wasn’t going to leave someone as valuable as Han Ju-oh sitting idle. But asking him to go in alone must’ve raised a red flag.
A little research would easily reveal the issue: a Guide with only a 3% match rate.
“They want him to go in with another Guide?”
“To be precise, they want the pair contract terminated.”
The government had made it clear—they wanted Seo-ha removed from Han Ju-oh’s side.
