A group made up of Espers and Guides entered the gate. As they walked through the long tunnel connected to the gate, Baek Seo-ha took a moment to catch his breath. Thanks to the darkened interior, the eyes that had been fixed on him lessened, offering a brief reprieve.
“Was it always like that from the beginning?”
“Have you always had a habit of blurting things out without context?”
When Han Ju-oh abruptly asked, Seo-ha responded in kind, which only made the grip on his leg tighten. If he was upset, he could just say so—was there really any need to squeeze so painfully?
“Could you explain a bit more clearly what you’re asking?”
“Messing around with guiding.”
Messing around? What kind of nonsense…
“Even if I may fall short in some aspects, I’ve never done anything so disrespectful as to be called ‘messing around.’”
“……”
“Ah, unless you’re bringing this up because you wanted mucosal or penetration guiding? Then sure, let’s call it messing around.”
Does he really think the matching rate would go up just because of mucosal guiding? He’d already tried. It had failed. There wasn’t even a need to go as far as penetration guiding. It was like there was a dam in his body, blocking the flow of energy to the other person.
Even now, he could feel a considerable amount of energy inside himself, but since he couldn’t send it out, the frustration was all his.
“If it happens again this time, it’s going to be a problem.”
“Right. But now there’s nothing to worry about.”
Because it’s over. He hadn’t wanted it to end like this, but there was nothing he could do about it. It was an act of God, something beyond his power.
“What if you make that kind of declaration and it changes?”
“Not much left to change.”
At Seo-ha’s curt reply, Han Ju-oh glanced at him. Seo-ha didn’t know what kind of answer he had been expecting, but truly, there was nothing that would change.
When he first took the Guide classes, he didn’t know what was wrong with him. When had he first realized?
Practical training.
The practicum required before becoming a full-fledged Guide. Seo-ha hadn’t even needed to look for somewhere to complete it—the current director of the Center had reached out to him first. Since he was already affiliated with the Center, all he had to do was undergo the evaluation.
The thought of taking his first matching test had made his heart race.
3%.
He hadn’t felt anything when shaking hands with Espers as a formality, so he didn’t expect a high match rate. So when that first result came back as a single-digit number, he hadn’t been surprised.
Then another test, and another, and another… After testing with more than ten Espers, the consistent 3% match rate had etched itself into his mind.
Now, 3% had become a permanent tag he couldn’t shake off.
“And yet you talk so proudly about messing around.”
Seo-ha furrowed his brow, not bothering to hide his irritation. What the hell was he supposedly messing around with? Of all things, he had never treated guiding like a joke.
‘Come to think of it, this is seriously pissing me off.’
On what basis did he say such things? Beyond annoyance, a sharp wave of anger surged through him. Seo-ha bit down on his lower lip, then released it. Maybe he should just ask to be let down. That way, he wouldn’t have to deal with this ridiculous conversation.
Just as he was about to speak—
“Shh.”
Han Ju-oh lifted his head and motioned for silence, and Seo-ha wisely shut his mouth. Looking around to see what was going on, he realized they had reached the end of the tunnel.
No one could know what kind of environment lay beyond it. Seo-ha swallowed a tense breath. No matter how many times one visited a dungeon, it was never a place where one could relax.
He took a deep breath, opened his eyes—and instinctively let his mouth fall open in shock. A vast sea of sand stretched across his entire field of vision. A hot wind brushed his face, and the dry air tickled his nose.
“This is bad.”
Moon Roi exhaled heavily, hands on his hips. Then he tapped the soles of his shoes together, checking whether he could walk on the sand.
Just imagining the trek across the desert was already draining. With that in mind, Seo-ha decided to take back what he was about to say. It was clearly more advantageous to stay quietly nestled in someone’s arms and conserve energy.
“What the hell goes on in that tiny little head of yours…?”
He looked up at Han Ju-oh. Seeing him from below was different. That sharply sculpted jawline, well-shaped lips, and even the perfectly defined nostrils—Seo-ha found himself blankly staring at a handsomely carved face.
Then Han Ju-oh lowered his gaze, and their eyes met. What had he just said again? Something about his thoughts?
“Ugh.”
Suddenly dropped to the ground, Seo-ha let out a grunt. It didn’t hurt—he’d landed on sand—but the shock had him reeling.
Just like when he’d been picked up, the way he was put down was equally inconsiderate. He looked up at Han Ju-oh in disbelief, only to be met with an annoyed look.
“Answer me when I ask you something.”
Ah. So he wanted answers immediately?
“There’s no time for you to just sit around being carefree.”
“Wow.”
He wasn’t looking at Han Ju-oh but at Moon Roi, letting out a laugh.
‘Roi, this guy is seriously unbelievable.’
As a dry chuckle escaped his lips, Moon Roi came over and helped him to his feet.
“You okay?”
“I don’t think my brain is.”
His head was spinning, and he had no strength in his limbs. When Moon Roi looped an arm around him, he was finally able to stand properly. Since Roi was tall, Seo-ha ended up pressed awkwardly against him, but now wasn’t the time to care about that.
Staggered from the blow he’d received from Han Ju-oh, Seo-ha meekly let Moon Roi guide him. Once he regained a bit of clarity, unexpected details began to catch his eye.
Walking through the desert was tough, sure—but that was a Guide’s problem. The Espers up ahead didn’t seem to struggle at all. Han Ju-oh, at the front of the line, was moving effortlessly.
“Seo-ha, just listen quietly.”
Moon Roi’s voice nearly vanished into the wind.
“Han Ju-oh… that Esper. He’s got a nasty personality.”
“Huh? Are you telling me something I don’t already know?”
Seo-ha had literally been dropped on his ass—wasn’t it obvious? But Moon Roi remained unfazed by the jab.
“It’s more than that. He’s extremely cold to Guides.”
“There are plenty of Espers like that. And he’s S-Class. That kind of guy’s probably swimming in popularity.”
Han Ju-oh was walking far ahead, so why were they still talking about him? Even though he didn’t want to engage in this conversation at all, Moon Roi remained firm, determined to finish what he started.
“No matter how high the match rate, he never keeps a Guide by his side.”
“……”
Guides wanting to pair with S-Class Espers was hardly surprising, but bringing up match rates changed the tone of the conversation.
Seo-ha turned to look at Moon Roi, who gave a knowing smirk, like he’d been waiting for this moment.
“Doesn’t it strike you as strange that someone like him is showing interest in you?”
“Yeah, a little.”
They’d already confirmed the match rate was just 3%. There wasn’t even room for wishful thinking.
“So now the question is: is he really someone who doesn’t care about match rates… or is there some other motive behind this?”
Seo-ha didn’t take the suggestion lightly. This wasn’t some joke anymore. They’d met three times now. Of the Espers who had received guidance from him once, only a handful ever came back. And even those never did so with pure intentions—it was rare to the point of nonexistence.
Based on experience, Han Ju-oh likely had similar reasons.
“Is it because I was too stiff with him?”
“Hm?”
Moon Roi hadn’t caught that and asked, but Seo-ha just shook his head, saying it was nothing. Moon Roi didn’t press further, so Seo-ha turned his gaze to Han Ju-oh’s back.
‘He probably thought I was weird since all the other Guides treated him kindly.’
If that was why he kept coming back, then it made sense. Maybe that whole “messing around with guiding” line was part of that line of thinking.
‘No… no, that doesn’t feel quite right either.’
Thinking it over again, something didn’t add up. Even if he’d been rigid, he never gave less than his all during guidance.
“What the hell is going on?”
His head a tangled mess, Seo-ha scratched the back of it and looked up toward Han Ju-oh.
“Quiet.”
Han Ju-oh pressed a finger to his lips, and all the Espers, including him, came to a stop. There was nothing visibly wrong, but if Han Ju-oh said something was off, then something definitely was.
Not long after, Seo-ha felt vibrations from the ground. Silently, he moved to stand among the other Guides.
“Switching to defense mode.”
At Han Ju-oh’s command, the Espers surrounded their Guides, raising protective barriers in case of an ambush.
Through the wall of Espers, Seo-ha caught sight of Han Ju-oh. He stood alone, waiting for the incoming creature. Was he planning to handle it solo? The aura around Han Ju-oh radiated absolute authority—as if he truly could manage it alone.
S-Class.
There may only be one tier between S and A, but the actual power gap was massive. For lower ranks, grades were separated by narrow statistical margins. But the higher the rank, the more those gaps turned into chasms.
If an E-Class Esper could take on two F-Class opponents, it was said an S-Class couldn’t be stopped even if you threw fifty A-Class Espers at them. So sure, Seo-ha understood just how strong Han Ju-oh must be. But wasn’t going at it alone a little excessive?
“If it’s Han Ju-oh, don’t worry.”
Seo-ha was about to say, Why would I be worried about him?— But just then, the ground shook violently, and a downpour of sand rained from above. Raising his arm to shield his eyes, Seo-ha forced them open to survey the situation.
All around them, sand mounds had risen, only to collapse like waterfalls—leaving monsters behind in their wake.
And it wasn’t just one. The beasts emerging from the front looked like giant worms—legless, but lined with rows upon rows of razor-sharp teeth, bared in menacing display.
“It’s starting.”
With the arrival of these terrifying monsters, the battle shifted into a whole new phase.
