The situation deteriorated as time passed. Casualties continued to mount, and even Espers, without injuries, were visibly worn out. If they continued to stall, it wouldn’t just mean losing the upper hand—it would be like waiting for their inevitable defeat.
And defeat meant death. No matter what, they had to turn things around. It was Han Ju-oh who stepped forward, knowing this.
“Ju-oh!”
Ian called out as Han Ju-oh darted through the tangle of tentacles in a sudden assault. It was a bold, reckless move. The beast was already on high alert—charging straight in with his neck bared to the blade might as well have been a death wish.
Ian tried to follow but had to twist his body at the last second to narrowly avoid a tentacle that slashed past him. In that brief moment, he completely lost sight of Han Ju-oh.
He quelled the urge to chase after him and forced himself to take a breath. Han Ju-oh wouldn’t have done something so rash without a plan. If that was the case, then it made more sense to focus on what he needed to do.
His head knew it, but his heart pounded erratically with anxiety over what might happen to Han Ju-oh. Ian inhaled deeply to keep his composure and touched his in-ear communicator.
“Don’t you dare die.”
Whether or not Han Ju-oh could hear him, he voiced his wish.
“Fall back.”
Ian took command of the remaining Espers and sought an opportunity to counterattack. The tentacles that had been assaulting the Espers began to converge, curling protectively around the creature’s body, creating an eerie standoff.
Espers, who had been scattered here and there, started gathering around Ian, exchanging uncertain glances.
“Han Ju-oh is probably inside that thing, but what do we do? If we push in recklessly with just this many people, we might not even be able to deal with the consequences.”
The words, cautiously phrased to avoid outright suggesting an assault, carried a clear wish: that they would wait. That much showed just how dangerous the beast was. But standing by here would be no different from leaving Han Ju-oh to die.
“I’m going in. Just in case—keep your distance.”
Ian exhaled sharply and lunged toward the creature’s core. The remaining Espers paired off in twos and stayed back to watch from a distance.
“What’s going to happen now…”
Worry began creeping across the faces of the Espers.
Only one remained entirely unshaken—Esper Davis looked at the monster with calm eyes.
“It was about this level back then, too.”
He recalled the day they discovered the hidden gate.
***
Han Ju-oh wrapped himself in wind, bracing against the beast’s crushing force. The tentacle coiled around his body tightened as if trying to crush him outright, and he gritted his teeth to endure the pain.
<Don’t back down—no matter what!>
The voice from his in-ear clashed with the monster’s piercing cries. Of all times, the past came flooding back.
<Just kill that thing and it’s over. Burn through everything you’ve got.>
Back then, the team leader had pushed the Espers, saying they had to eliminate the boss to clear the mission. He had also been giving it his all to take the monster down, so Han Ju-oh had pushed himself past his limits as well.
When they finally severed the creature’s lifeline, the team erupted in cheers. But it didn’t last. Just when they thought it was over, a hidden gate appeared inside the dungeon and turned the entire situation upside down. Han Ju-oh, still young and lacking combat experience at the time, had been just another unseasoned Esper.
The day they failed to stop the monster that emerged from the hidden gate left a lasting trauma.
Han Ju-oh let out a ragged breath.
No.
If he let that trauma break him here, there was no way he could kill this thing. He bit down on his tongue, coughing up a mouthful of blood, and tried to gradually expand his domain. But once lost, regaining control was never easy.
“Don’t you dare die.”
The familiar voice coming through the in-ear made Han Ju-oh let out a faint chuckle.
He wasn’t dead yet. Ian—and Seo-ha, who had become his everything—were both waiting for him. Just thinking of them gave him strength.
Han Ju-oh’s eyes lit up as he unleashed his full power. And if he started to spiral out of control?
So what?
Now, instead of a ring of Espers surrounding him with orders to kill him if he went berserk, he had Seo-ha. The only person who could calm him if that ever happened.
Baek Seo-ha. You really…
Compared to himself—only good for brute force in dungeons—Seo-ha shone like a beacon. Was this what it meant to be so talented you couldn’t look away? Or maybe it was simply because he was on his side, and that made him infinitely precious.
Even in the face of death, Han Ju-oh’s expression couldn’t have been more serene. In the darkness, his eyes gleamed. As he opened his power completely, fire began to seep into the wind surrounding him.
Chiiik.
The tentacles burned where the fire touched them. Before, it had only seared, but with his power fully unleashed, the temperature had risen—the attacks were now landing clean hits.
The beast writhed in agony, its tentacles flailing and sharpening in a desperate frenzy, but they couldn’t touch Han Ju-oh. Moving with the calm assurance of someone in control, he stepped forward one stride at a time, expanding his domain.
He had never once used his powers freely without restraint. Even when he knew he might lose control, he’d grit his teeth and push forward. Compared to those times, nothing was holding him back now. A deep sense of satisfaction surged through him. The exhilaration that rose to the top of his head made Han Ju-oh’s fingertips sharper and his control over wind and fire more precise.
It was fun. The fact that his opponent was strong enough to withstand anything he threw at it thrilled him. The sheer joy of being able to go all out against a boss monster for the first time made him feel like a giddy child, wanting to leap and shout.
They clashed for a long while in a brutal power struggle. It was now obvious why this had been classified as an S-Class gate—not because of some flying-type beast, but because of this creature.
Seeing how the creature’s body was protected by a thick carapace, Han Ju-oh let out a soundless laugh. He didn’t know why, but he found himself continually comparing himself to this monster. Just like how he pretended to be fine while hiding his own weaknesses, the beast, too, concealed its soft core beneath a hardened shell.
Han Ju-oh placed a hand on that carapace and etched a minuscule scratch into it using wind. Not knowing what he would do next, the boss monster, driven by primal unease, launched a barrage of frenzied attacks.
But the tide had turned. The balance of power had clearly shifted in Han Ju-oh’s favor.
Kiiee—
With a screech, the creature let out one final outburst. But its insides had already been ravaged by Han Ju-oh’s attacks. Without even realizing it, the beast was already dead. As its twitching tentacles stilled, Han Ju-oh pushed them aside and locked eyes with Ian, who had been gasping for breath.
Relief flooded Ian’s face as he saw that Han Ju-oh was alive.
“Thank god.”
He had a million things he wanted to say, but that’s all that came out—plain and simple.
As if sensing Ian’s thoughts, Han Ju-oh gave a faint smile and reached out his hand.
“Pull me out.”
Exhausted from burning through so much power, he didn’t even have the strength to push the tentacles away. Ian, catching on quickly, broke into a grin, genuinely pleased.
“What would you have done without me?”
“I probably would’ve just waited here until someone came to get me.”
Thank God it was Ian who came looking.
“I’m really glad I came to get you.”
“You didn’t. It was Baek Seo-ha who brought you here.”
Ian used his electrokinetic powers to shove aside the tentacles and took Han Ju-oh’s hand.
“You missed me while you were stuck in there, didn’t you?”
At Ian’s teasing, Han Ju-oh immediately shook his head.
“I missed Seo-ha—the one who brought you.”
Ian gave an of course you did kind of face and happily pulled Han Ju-oh out.
***
As the ground trembled, Seo-ha quickly regained balance and looked around. He couldn’t see what was going on, but one thing was certain.
“It’s clear.”
The monster had been defeated.
A bright smile spread across his face. The gate’s entrance had started to open, and soon the Espers would emerge. From here on, the incoming personnel would clean up the dungeon—Seo-ha only had to wait for the Esper to appear.
“The national emergency will probably be lifted soon too.”
Moon Roi patted Seo-ha’s shoulder. But the subtle tension lingering on both their faces hadn’t quite faded. It wasn’t over yet.
That tension wouldn’t disappear until they saw with their own eyes that the Esper who’d defeated the monster was safe. And just then, a man stepped out ahead of the others.
“Esper Davis?”
Seo-ha murmured his name in surprise, taken aback by the unexpected person to appear first. Davis looked at him with an easygoing gaze.
“I came to tell you two things.”
They assumed he came ahead to report on the situation.
“Come with me.”
But the words that followed were completely outrageous. And the next line was even more jaw-dropping.
“The contract’s going to break anyway. When it does, you’ll need a new partner.”
Davis flashed a radiant smile, clearly suggesting that he would be the perfect replacement. Seo-ha’s lips parted in stunned disbelief. A beat later, understanding dawned, and he let out a dry laugh.
“Wow. I almost cursed just now.”
