41.
Regardless of whether Choi Jae-won was being worked to exhaustion with muscle pain, the operation proceeded smoothly, making all the complaints he had initially voiced when receiving the first mission briefing seem meaningless. Han Ji-su’s ability to detect underwater monsters more accurately than advanced radar equipment played a crucial role.
Of course, for normal A-grade dungeons, Han Ji-su herself would typically serve as the main striker, making such delicate detection impossible, so Ryu Ho-yeon had indirectly helped in this way.
After carefully sensing beneath the surface, whenever Han Ji-su detected the presence of particularly strong and powerful monsters, she would separately inform Ryu Ho-yeon of their approximate location and numbers. Then Choi Jae-won would diligently row or pedal again.
Depending on his mood, Ryu Ho-yeon would create rubber boats or duck boats as easily as snapping his fingers, use them once, and then discard them before rejoining the main vessel. Since objects created with his manifestation ability naturally disappeared after a week anyway, there was nothing to be concerned about.
It didn’t consume much guiding energy to create such items anyway. Struggling to haul them back onto the main vessel would have been more taxing.
One interesting thing was that whenever Ryu Ho-yeon and Choi Jae-won abandoned their boat and climbed onto the deck, the Chinese vessel would subtly draw closer and quietly collect the remaining boat. It made sense—when searching every corner of a vast dungeon for missing people, such small boats would definitely be helpful.
Bang.
Bang, baang. Tadabang.
The silenced gun barrel quietly echoed, and with ferocious energy that tore through the air and lodged into the monster’s body, the creature they were facing quickly collapsed. With each pull of the pistol trigger, Ryu Ho-yeon could clearly feel the guiding energy being rapidly drained.
What fell was a massive water snake, its body appearing to be about the size of a five-story building. The sight of this enormous water snake plunging headfirst into the sea resembled a failed ascension of a serpent dragon.
Only after confirming the monster had completely collapsed did Choi Jae-won hurriedly embrace Ryu Ho-yeon firmly from behind. He loosened the Velcro on the back of the combat uniform and pressed his lips against the white exposed nape visible even in the darkness, causing guiding energy to flow rapidly into Ryu Ho-yeon’s body like a waterfall.
Choi Jae-won tightly held Ryu Ho-yeon’s waist with one hand while extending his other hand forward to pull Ryu Ho-yeon’s left wrist, which wore a communication device, to his eyes. He could see the real-time increase in the guiding panel attached to the communicator.
Meanwhile, Ryu Ho-yeon felt strange. He still disliked Choi Jae-won being subjected to experiments. It was disgusting enough that Dr. An was in the same center—the nauseating fact that Ryu had once called that irritating doctor “uncle” and followed him around.
However, the matching rate that had increased by just 3 percent over two years provided undeniably solid results that repeatedly seemed to give wings to his ankles.
He could naturally understand how Kim Jun-young and Park Woo-jun, who had already completed imprinting, could fly around so effortlessly in dungeons. If a mere 78 percent matching rate could do this much, what if he actually reached 80 percent and attempted imprinting?
Such thoughts often came to mind unconsciously when indulging in the comfortable sensation of guiding. As soon as these thoughts surfaced, he would feel utterly disgusted with himself.
All the benefits gained from severely abusing Choi Jae-won’s body were ultimately for Ryu Ho-yeon’s sake. Even if he didn’t want to receive it, those benefits kept pouring in ecstatically through their connected skin and throughout his entire body.
“…That’s enough, stop now.”
“Just a moment. Let me check the numbers again.”
Only after confirming that the guiding level had definitely hit 42 percent did Choi Jae-won quickly pull away.
Ryu Ho-yeon shot decoy lasers in various directions across the dark waves for quite some time. Given that no creatures were poking their heads above water despite all this, it seemed the monster they had just dealt with was the last one in the area.
“Let’s return now.”
“Just a minute… Can’t we rest for 10 minutes before going back?”
“No, we can’t. Start pedaling.”
“…Yes, sir.”
The two people, or rather Choi Jae-won alone, pedaled the duck boat vigorously. After about 10 minutes of exhausting effort, they finally spotted the main team finishing up their combat.
Generally, Choi Jae-won enjoyed and always preferred being alone with Ryu Ho-yeon rather than mixing with other people, but somehow, in this dungeon, being with the main team felt tearfully welcome. He firmly resolved that if he ever had to enter a maritime dungeon again, he would bring a noiseless boat motor no matter what.
They were in the process of disembarking from the boat onto the main vessel. As expected, the Chinese Espers subtly appeared. They were probably coming to collect the duck boat they were about to abandon.
“I could just make and give them a few if they asked, so why do they always take them secretly like this?”
Ryu Ho-yeon muttered to himself as if he couldn’t understand.
Both South Korea and China had deployed their most capable ability users from their immediately available personnel. In other words, these were people whose pride stretched to the ends of the heavens and beyond—too proud to even consider making practical requests because saying they needed something first would hurt their dignity.
However, as Ryu Ho-yeon believed that no Esper in the world had abilities more special than his own, he had no way of understanding such subtle psychology of high-ranking ability users.
“Good work, Esper-nim!”
The first to welcome them on deck was Kim Ga-ram, a C-grade Esper who didn’t participate in combat. While Ryu Ho-yeon had clearly been the one facing the monster, Choi Jae-won felt all the hard work had been his… For some reason, Kim Ga-ram’s focused attention solely on Ryu Ho-yeon seemed vexing to Choi Jae-won. He felt somewhat wronged.
Having spent a week in the dungeon surviving on combat rations, Kim Ga-ram no longer showed any trace of his initially round silhouette. From his fairly defined jawline to his fat-free abdomen—he looked like a virtual diet model that only existed on social media.
C-grade Espers with physical enhancement abilities had significantly better physical conditions than ordinary people without abilities. Just a little carelessness could quickly activate hidden muscles and shed weight like this.
Surprisingly, that plump silhouette had been maintained through deliberate effort. Apparently, while preparing for the foreign service exam, he had starved himself to avoid getting sleepy on a full stomach, and once he received his acceptance notice, he immediately let loose.
With individual missions proceeding more smoothly than expected, there were few major encounters with the Chinese side. Since he only needed to be safely “escorted” in the rear during combat, Kim Ga-ram’s face showed none of the tension it had displayed initially.
Well, whether he was tense or not in a relationship where they’d only meet once wasn’t Choi Jae-won’s concern. What particularly irritated him was…
“Esper-nim, I heard that A-grade Espers or Guides are immediately appointed to Grade 5 positions, so what grade do S-class Espers start at?”
“I don’t know.”
“Oh my! Of course! After all, you’ve been S-grade since birth, so you wouldn’t need to worry about that. Say, would being a C-grade Esper give any advantage points when taking the administrative examination for Center positions?”
“…I don’t know.”
“Ah, I understand, I understand! Then, which administrative department do you interact with most frequently, Esper-nim?”
At thirty, he was older than both Choi Jae-won and Ryu Ho-yeon, but his mind seemed filled with nothing but flowers, as he continued asking unnecessary questions despite the other’s indifferent attitude.
Even though there were well over a dozen Espers included in this operation, addressing others as “Mr. So-and-so” while singling out Ryu Ho-yeon with the honorific “Esper-nim” was problematic to begin with.
“…”
“Esper-nim?”
Getting increasingly annoyed, Ryu Ho-yeon didn’t even bother to give his usual “I don’t know” response and just glanced at Choi Jae-won standing beside him. It was a signal to deal with this. Choi Jae-won jumped in like a hawk, as if he’d been waiting for this moment.
“Haha, Secretary Kim seems very interested in the Center’s administrative positions. I should introduce you to some people.”
As Choi Jae-won smoothly intervened with a smile, Ryu Ho-yeon dashed into the narrow makeshift lounge attached to the stern, leaving the follow-up to him. Even that lounge had been created by Ryu Ho-yeon himself, insisting that he needed to be alone at least once a day, even if just for a brief moment.
According to protocol, the deck should be kept clear of anything except minimal equipment since visibility was crucial, but what could be done? It was impossible to deny the wishes of an S-grade Esper whose mother was the lab director, whose partner was the (former) heir to a renowned corporation that was the Center’s biggest supporter, and whose close friend was the former Commissioner and current Deputy Team Leader.
“Uhh… It’s okay, if I have more questions, I’ll find out on my own…”
As expected, once Ryu Ho-yeon disappeared, Kim Ga-ram deflated like an electronic device with its power button turned off and retreated on his own.
