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Chapter 18
“Is it a bit uncomfortable for you?”
Jiseo asked hesitantly.
“No, not at all. It looks nice.”
The voice of Baek Dohyeok as he said that was as soft as a woolen carpet—low, smooth, and pleasant to the ear. Whether he truly meant it or not, his gently relaxed eyes curved warmly as he looked at Jiseo.
“Oh… really?”
Jiseo scratched her chin. Seriously, what a fickle man.
“Unni, unni! This is Guide Baek Dohyeok!”
Hayun, who had dragged Jeongyun over by the hand, introduced Dohyeok as if she were presenting a guest she had personally brought along. When Dohyeok bowed his head slightly, Jeongyun awkwardly bowed in return.
“Nice to meet you.”
“Yes, I’m Baek Dohyeok. I’m here to observe for the day. I look forward to working with you.”
Dohyeok’s attitude toward Jeongyun was impeccably gentle, completely different from how he had addressed the espers earlier. What was more, he seemed to loosen up strangely, cracking jokes first with Minhyuk and Junho. Jiseo could only feel puzzled by how quickly his demeanor had changed.
The team training—focused on synchronizing teamwork against a virtual enemy’s various unpredictable patterns—continued for a total of three hours. Since emergency situations could arise at any time, the guiding principle was “lower the rampage index whenever possible,” so guides were required to attend even basic training sessions.
During the breaks, while the team members took turns receiving guiding from Jeongyun, Jiseo either drank water or casually chatted with Dohyeok, who was standing around watching quietly.
“Don’t you need guiding, Jiseo?”
Instead of answering, Jiseo showed him her device’s readings. Seeing the number 23%, Dohyeok let out a small sound of admiration.
“It doesn’t rise easily, and even if it does, holding hands for a short while doesn’t lower it much either. I don’t really receive guiding in the first place. That’s why I said I didn’t need the Vice President.”
“I see. That’s good.”
She wasn’t sure what exactly he meant by “good,” but Dohyeok nodded lightly and replied cheerfully. It was also impressive how intently he watched the espers brawling with the virtual enemy, as if genuinely fascinated by something most people would find boring.
Seeing him smile, ask Jeongyun questions, and engage in conversation, Jiseo thought it was a relief. Even if this was technically a formal guiding assignment, he seemed sincerely committed to it.
After the training ended, Baek Dohyeok showed yet another unexpected side.
He seriously asked the espers whether they had noticed any shortcomings or areas for improvement while directly experiencing the updated simulation.
“Of course, espers participate during development, but it’s still important to hear real feedback from those who use it frequently.”
Even amid Minhyuk and Junho’s half-complaints—spoken while dripping with sweat—Dohyeok proved through action that his position as LS Innotech’s vice president wasn’t something he’d inherited by birth alone.
The hottest topic was that the monsters’ combat AI had been upgraded to be even more difficult than in real combat.
“It wasn’t like this before. Why is it doing this now?”
The espers couldn’t always tell whether something was a simulation error or a properly implemented feature based on monster pattern research. While calmly sorting through the barrage of complaints from users who clearly hadn’t read the manual, Dohyeok pinpointed notable issues, explained possible causes, and even suggested potential solutions.
Watching him quietly, Jiseo raised her hand slightly.
“More than that, the durability is way too weak.”
Dohyeok looked puzzled.
“It can easily withstand the abilities of high B-rank espers.”
At that, Jiseo shook her head with a gotcha expression.
“Nope. I completely smashed it the other day—ah, this is supposed to be a secret. The Support Department thinks Esper Kwon Yul broke it.”
Four pairs of eyes turned toward Jiseo. Shock. Confusion. Surprise. Anger.
…Anger?
Baek Dohyeok was staring at her with an expression that looked like he was barely holding his temper back.
Why, what, why? It’s not your personal property.
Jiseo boldly screamed internally and deliberately avoided his gaze.
“Wait, so you’re the one who wrecked the training room that’s under repair? Wow, even when I hit that thing, it didn’t crack.”
“Yeah. I was in a bad mood that day.”
“Why were you in a bad mood, unni?”
Hayun ran over and grabbed Jiseo’s hand, shaking it eagerly. Jiseo wanted to say, ‘Mostly because of that guy over there,’ but instead she turned away from Dohyeok.
“I accidentally saw Minhyuk post his new choreography on Insta-X.”
“Esper Im Jiseo.”
Dohyeok was staring at her intently. His flat, emotionless voice echoed through the not-so-small waiting room. Jiseo didn’t look at him. If she had, she would have noticed—
“Get your rank reassessed.”
Despite his carefully controlled tone, his eyes were filled with anxiety.
After leaving behind those words, Baek Dohyeok apologized for overstepping, bowed with flawless courtesy, and went on his way. Left behind were Hayun, holding her face like a flower in full bloom, and the four older teammates.
“Wow… isn’t Guide Baek Dohyeok amazing? And he seems really smart too. Earlier, he mentioned something like positrons? Hard light? I had no idea our regular training room used such advanced technology!”
The dreamy gaze in Hayun’s eyes followed the corridor Dohyeok had disappeared down. Each of the four watched her with different thoughts.
Setting aside the fact that Dohyeok was nearly ten years older than Hayun—and that securing an S-rank guide was no easy feat—Jiseo was opposed to Hayun’s fondness for him for an entirely different reason.
Should I expose that jerk’s terrible personality before Hayun finds out he asked me to form a pair with him?
Just then, Hayun suddenly snapped back to her senses and waved her hands frantically.
“Unni, I just think Baek Dohyeok oppa—no, ahjussi—is cool! I like Jeongyun unni the most!”
“Yeah. I like you the most too, Hayun.”
“What about me, Guide Jeongyun?”
“Team Leader, do you seriously want to compete with a girl half your age?”
The team members immediately began bickering over Guide Jeongyun like usual. Jiseo didn’t even look back—deciding she should go shower—and left the training room first.
Junho quickly chased after her.
“Im Jiseo, what’s your relationship with Guide Baek Dohyeok?”
“What relationship? He’s just a guide, I’m just an esper.”
“Oh come on, I saw the way he looked at you. What is it? Huh?”
Jiseo hesitated.
If she said Dohyeok told her to receive guiding only from him, that basically meant they were a pair. But calling it a pair felt wrong when there was zero trust between them. And explaining why he’d singled out a C-rank esper like her? Jiseo didn’t know his true intentions either.
The public excuse was business-related—something about an appropriate esper who wouldn’t affect operations—but that wasn’t the whole truth.
In the end, she twisted the facts slightly.
“…We met because Baek Dohyeok crashed into my car, and he said he felt bad, so he’d guide me often.”
“What? If he hit your car, a quick polish with compound should’ve fixed it.”
“My car’s still running perfectly fine, thank you.”
Glaring at Junho for blatantly disrespecting her 15-year-old beloved car, Jiseo wondered if accepting S-rank guiding as compensation had been asking too much.
“Oh, by the way, I already submitted your rank reassessment request. Tomorrow at 2 p.m.”
“What? Hey, why did you decide that on your own?”
“You seriously lack desperation. Don’t say ‘I’ll do it if I have time.’ Make time and do it. Even Baek Dohyeok told you to. From what I saw that day—and the wrecked training room—something’s definitely off. If you’re risking your life anyway, at least get paid more for it.”
“Ugh… I’m not mentally ready yet. What if I take it and it’s still C-rank?”
“Then we celebrate maintaining C-rank with a team dinner.”
True to his reputation as a dinner-lover, Junho had found yet another excuse for a group meal. After checking his device, he dashed off, saying it was time to pick up the cake from Jeongyun’s favorite bakery.
“Ugh… just confess already.”
To cut to the chase—Im Jiseo did not receive her rank reassessment at 2 p.m. the next day.
That morning, a gate opened. A B-rank gate.
Called in on her way to work, Jiseo turned her car around and arrived in Gwangmyeong to find the area already evacuated and sealed off.
About six meters above the ground, a gaping void of darkness hung in the air, ominous energy rippling as if the space itself had torn open its mouth wide.
No matter how many times she saw it, Jiseo could never get used to that sinister darkness. She let out a sigh.
Since it’s B-rank… at least four or five days, probably.
She texted her parents first, then looked around for Blue Team 2. Though a heavy atmosphere hung over the site—since failure here would mean catastrophe—the mood was unusually chaotic today.
“Jiseo!”
Guide Jeongyun, her face flushed as if she had just arrived, spotted Jiseo and ran over. After exchanging greetings, they stood waiting together.
Espers were sensitive to the faint energy emitted by their guides. Standing still usually meant they’d come find you on their own. While chatting briefly about the gate, they heard cheers erupt from a small crowd.
“Kwon Yul!”
“Esper Kwon Yul!”
Jeongyun and Jiseo looked up simultaneously.
Floating in the air was Kwon Yul—the source of the strange restlessness they’d felt earlier.
“Looks like Esper Kwon Yul is participating this time.”
“That’s unusual. He usually doesn’t go below A-rank gates.”
Of course, a single S-rank esper was worth more than hundreds of lower-rank espers—but all abilities carried backlash. With the constant risk of rampage, attending every lower-rank gate was unsustainable, especially without a paired guide.
“I heard Kwon Yul’s grandmother lives in Gwangmyeong.”
Junho arrived a bit late, waving cheerfully as he explained why the S-rank esper was joining a B-rank operation.
“Oh, yeah. Can’t ignore a gate threatening family territory. Fair enough.”
Minhyuk, who lived in the dorms, appeared next, dragging along a still half-asleep Hayun.
It was time for Blue Team 2 to deploy.
