As soon as Han Ju-oh and Baek Seo-ha stepped into the Center, all eyes turned to them, and the atmosphere instantly grew loud and chaotic.
“Hello, Guide Baek.”
“Hello, Esper Han.”
It began with someone near the door greeting them excitedly, and within moments, a crowd had formed around them, creating a human wall. Seo-ha returned the greetings of the many faces turned his way, while Ju-oh remained silent.
“I’ve always wanted to meet you—what an honor.”
“I heard you were on vacation. What brings you here?”
“Guide Baek Seo-ha, do you remember me?”
Even though he responded politely, the nonstop chatter made it difficult to move forward. The only reason they managed to inch ahead was because Ju-oh’s stone-faced expression kept people slightly at bay—without it, they wouldn’t have been able to move at all.
As the Imprint Guide of an SS-Class Esper and now officially an S-Class Guide, public perception of Seo-ha had changed dramatically. No longer the guide everyone avoided for his 3% matching rate, he had become someone people admired and respected.
That transformation happened almost overnight, the moment his rank was upgraded and publicly announced. Compared to the time he was completely swarmed and couldn’t move an inch, today was merely inconvenient—not overwhelming.
Seo-ha gently grabbed Ju-oh’s hand, stopping him from pushing the crowd away, and quietly mulled over the words he’d just heard.
“Thank you. I was on vacation, but I got called in. And… you’re new here, right?”
As he calmly answered one person at a time, the path ahead slowly began to open.
“I respect you.”
“I’ll follow you wherever you’re assigned.”
No one had come with the intention of bothering Seo-ha or Ju-oh. Whether they’d heard rumors or felt genuine admiration, they had only approached to talk. That’s why nothing serious broke out.
And yet… some even confessed to Seo-ha on the spot—an unbelievable sight for the long-time staff of the Center.
“Why do you even accept that?”
Ju-oh stared at the person who had just confessed to Seo-ha, like he was committing their face to memory, clearly displeased.
“Why accept it, you ask? Hmm…”
Seo-ha gave serious thought to something that could’ve been answered offhand. That reflection continued all the way to the Director’s office—enough for Ju-oh to stop taking it lightly.
“It just… doesn’t feel real. Being liked like this…”
“I don’t get it.”
“You don’t have to. But you know… I really thought I had no future as a Guide.”
Seo-ha recalled how desperately he had once clung to any possibility of pairing with an Esper. He hadn’t exactly been ashamed of the way people looked down on him, but it still left him feeling drained.
“I was at the point where no one would’ve blinked if I just disappeared.”
He had searched relentlessly for an Esper, squeezing every last drop of hope out of himself like a rag—then eventually gave up cleanly. The emotional toll had been brutal, but later, he realized even that kind of hurt was something only people with hope could feel. He’d resigned himself and let everything go—until he met Han Ju-oh. After that, his guiding ability changed, and his rank rose.
“When someone sees a change in me—something I can hardly believe myself—and reacts positively, I don’t want to brush that off.”
His story had even made the news, and offers for speaking engagements started coming in. Civilians began to recognize him. In the end, he decided to accept all of it.
“Ju-oh, this is what fame looks like.”
“And if you get even more famous?”
“Not a bad thing. Let’s enjoy it together.”
Seo-ha gave Ju-oh a solid pat on the shoulder and pushed open the Director’s office door. He walked in without knocking and immediately got scolded for it, while Ju-oh stepped in deliberately a beat late. Seo-ha said they’d enjoy the fame together—not the scolding.
***
“You weren’t planning to go somewhere fun, were you?”
At Kim Beom-hak’s question, Seo-ha rubbed his wrist. The spot where the watch strap sat felt strange—probably because Ju-oh had bitten it earlier.
“Even if I wasn’t planning a trip, I’m still on vacation. You’re not supposed to call someone in. That’s what vacation means.”
Who in their right mind would want to come into work when they could just stay home and breathe?
“Just clear one dungeon, and I’ll give you back the lost vacation time—plus a special bonus.”
Kim Beom-hak tried to coax Seo-ha gently, sneaking glances at Ju-oh, who’d come along. Ju-oh looked indifferent, like he had no opinion and would go along with whatever Seo-ha decided.
“So if I say I don’t want to go into a dungeon, that I’m perfectly happy enjoying my vacation without any bonus… that’s not an option, huh?”
Seo-ha spoke casually, as if he truly didn’t care either way—but when Kim Beom-hak’s face darkened, he changed his approach. If the director was going to try to butter him up, he could’ve at least done a better job of it.
“Director, you know I’m newly married, right?”
He lifted Ju-oh’s hand on purpose, showing off their matching wedding rings. Then pointed to the one on his own finger.
“And you still want us to head into a dungeon? When you know just how sweet this time is for us?”
Seo-ha acted as if the whole thing was more of a nuisance than anything, and Ju-oh quietly watched his Guide’s mood. Hadn’t Seo-ha been talking about having no future as a Guide just before they walked into the office? Now he was acting like a silver-tongued trickster—suspicious behavior, to say the least.
“What good is sticking together 24/7 if it just ends with us catching fire again?”
“We burn brighter when we’re on fire. That just means the Guiding’s working.”
Seo-ha motioned toward Han Ju-oh. Anyone could see it—Ju-oh was clearly in top form. His skin had a healthy sheen, and his entire demeanor radiated calm, stable energy.
“Ahem… anyway, just go.”
“Hold on. Why are you suddenly sending us out? Is it a high-level gate? Or did something happen?”
Seo-ha, who’d been playfully pushing back, smoothly shifted into coaxing mode. He made it clear they needed a solid reason before they’d even consider going. Only then did Ju-oh realize why Seo-ha hadn’t agreed from the start. He looked at his Guide with something close to admiration.
“It is a high-level gate, but there hasn’t been an incident. We just needed a team we could showcase—and your names came up.”
Kim Beom-hak laid it out plainly. The gate that had recently appeared couldn’t be properly ranked, which prompted the government to summon guild leaders and heads of regional Centers. After deliberation, they decided to dispatch elite representatives from each area—handpicked, top-tier teams.
As for White Guild, they’d already cleared it so Han Ju-oh could join if he chose to. That’s why Kim had called them in together—to explain everything at once.
Seo-ha listened in composed silence, absorbing every detail. The room went still for a moment. Sending someone into an unranked gate was no small matter—it meant they trusted him that much.
At least, that’s how Director Kim saw it.
“Me? You want me as a representative?”
Gone was Seo-ha’s earlier seriousness. He pointed to himself with a look of disbelief, as if to say, You can’t be serious. Of all people, Director Kim should know just how lukewarm and unremarkable a Guide he used to be.
“Who said you’re the representative? I meant the team.”
“And you want me in that team?”
From the way it was phrased, it sounded like they meant an Esper-Guide pair. But that only deepened Seo-ha’s confusion. He widened his eyes and blinked innocently—clearly putting on an act—until someone interrupted.
Han Ju-oh, who had been quietly watching, reached out and turned Seo-ha’s face toward him by the chin.
“Save that face for me.”
“You… seriously need to pick your moments to be possessive.”
Seo-ha had been faking the innocent expression, and for good reason—but thanks to Ju-oh, the entire mood was ruined.
“Just go,” Kim Beom-hak repeated, calmly.
“I don’t want to. I still don’t understand why I’m even part of this, and honestly, the compensation feels way too low. You’re pulling in top-ranked players from every region—just thinking about it makes me anxious.”
Seo-ha scowled, clearly unimpressed.
“If I were clueless, I might puff up with pride and march right in. But unfortunately, I know too much.”
“Yeah… if anyone would, it’s you.”
“Exactly. Which is why I’m not going in empty-handed.”
“You could’ve just said that from the start.”
It wasn’t that he was refusing to enter a dangerous gate—he just wasn’t going without making it worth his while.
“What do you want?”
Kim Beom-hak gave up and asked directly.
“Well, since you put it that way, I won’t hold back…”
Seo-ha straightened up, pulled out his phone, and turned on the voice recorder. Just in case he forgot anything, he said he’d list all his conditions and send them over later. Kim Beom-hak’s face instantly crumpled in frustration.
***
As soon as they stepped out of the Director’s office, Seo-ha stretched with a satisfied sigh. Ju-oh glanced at him, imagining the Director still fuming behind the door.
“So I guess… vacation’s over?”
Seo-ha grinned and asked, and Ju-oh casually slipped an arm around his waist.
“Let’s go pack.”
It was clear he meant he’d fly them straight home. Seo-ha leaned in without hesitation, wrapping his arm around Ju-oh’s shoulder. Then, with a teasing smile, he leaned close and whispered in his ear—
“Think I can wear a swimsuit in the dungeon?”
Mid-flight, Ju-oh—who had been gliding effortlessly—stumbled in the air.
