“I’ll be more careful from now on. And Heemyung, if you need anything or there’s ever something I can help you with, just tell me.”
“Yes!”
At the cheerful reply, Gyujin instinctively reached out a hand, only to snatch it back at once. He could feel Kwon Dajung glaring at him from far away.
Fortunately, entry into the gate began before Dajung noticed.
Maybe it was because he had taken his medication before leaving home, but even the gate’s characteristic damp, musty smell wasn’t unpleasant enough to make him vomit. He still felt mildly nauseated, so Gyujin deliberately slowed his breathing and kept it steady.
The Team 1 Espers spotted him doing that and immediately came scurrying over.
“Team Leader, you were seriously awesome back there!”
“That’s our Team Leader!”
“Dajung deserved that slap.”
While the other Espers moved tensely toward their assigned positions, these bastards naturally ignored absolutely everything and wandered over to Gyujin instead.
Gyujin stared at his teammates, who weren’t even pretending to follow orders, and his expression sank into weary resignation.
Not far away, Kwon Dajung hovered around them looking like the most wronged man alive.
And behind Dajung, Seo Sungmin, the overall commander, was glaring daggers at him.
Every last one of them is unbelievable.
Gyujin forced himself to swallow the words.
Surely they wouldn’t keep acting like this once the exercise actually started. If they possessed even the bare minimum of conscience, they should at least remember that they were Espers.
Since the thought had occurred to him, Gyujin decided to check and called Kim Heemyung over.
“You haven’t been properly introduced yet, have you? This is Guide Kim Heemyung. He’ll be working with us today. Everyone, introduce yourselves politely.”
Given what Dajung had just pulled, Gyujin put particular emphasis on the word “politely.”
And in certain ways Yoon Gyujin was even scarier than Kwon Dajung, so everyone obediently did as they were told.
Gyujin watched them greet Heemyung with impeccable courtesy and nodded approvingly.
“Good.”
Then he looked at Sunwoo and Guk.
“If you two are going to get guiding, want to do it now? Once the fighting starts later, things are going to get hectic.”
Gyujin made the suggestion first for Heemyung’s sake, since the rookie had no real combat experience.
It would probably be easier on everyone if they handled the guiding while things were still quiet.
At Gyujin’s suggestion, Choi Sunwoo and Moon Guk exchanged hesitant glances.
They clearly didn’t want to do it, but apparently neither of them dared say so in case Gyujin got angry.
Gyujin, however, had absolutely no intention of backing down.
He wasn’t about to watch his teammates suffer without guiding just because he couldn’t provide it himself.
Especially when every single person here already had firsthand experience with getting dangerously close to losing control from lack of guiding.
Keeping these bastards nowhere near that point was Gyujin’s responsibility as their Guide.
Actions spoke louder than words.
Gyujin swiftly grabbed Choi Sunwoo’s left arm.
Sunwoo’s eyes went round at the unexpected contact.
“Sunwoo first. Heemyung, come here too.”
“Right now? Just like that?”
Sunwoo protested weakly, but Gyujin didn’t even pretend to listen.
Talking clearly wasn’t going to accomplish anything in this situation, so a certain amount of force was necessary.
Gyujin beckoned to Heemyung.
Under the look that plainly asked what he was waiting for, Heemyung shuffled toward them.
After what had happened earlier, his tension was obvious even to Gyujin.
Wanting to calm the frightened rookie down, Gyujin reassured him gently.
“Sunwoo’s different from Dajung. He’s actually nice. You don’t need to be scared, Heemyung.”
Even after those comforting words, however, Heemyung’s expression remained decidedly complicated.
Gyujin gave another firm instruction.
“I’ll hold his hand. Heemyung, you turn around and hug Sunwoo. You understand what I mean?”
Neither of them looked remotely enthusiastic, but Gyujin refused to budge.
An awkward silence settled over them like two children who had been dragged somewhere by their mother.
“Excuse meee….”
Heemyung spoke in a thoroughly defeated voice.
He carefully wrapped his arms around Sunwoo’s torso from behind and began guiding.
Heemyung squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated.
Guiding was an interaction that passed between the person receiving it and the person performing it, which meant the sensation varied wildly from individual to individual.
And because there were no obvious visible signs, it was difficult for a third party to tell whether the guiding was actually working well.
Gyujin adjusted his grip on Sunwoo’s hand and studied his complexion.
Sunwoo showed no particular reaction. He merely blinked.
When his fingers kept twitching restlessly, Gyujin sucked in a warning breath through his teeth.
Only then did Sunwoo hold still.
After a long silence, he cautiously spoke.
“Um, Team Leader….”
Gyujin met his eyes without answering.
Sunwoo frowned awkwardly.
“I’m not really feeling much….”
At that, Gyujin looked at Heemyung.
The rookie was sweating profusely as he concentrated.
But compared to all that effort, Sunwoo’s response was distinctly underwhelming.
So a hug really isn’t enough?
“You don’t feel anything at all?”
“Well… um… it’s not like I feel nothing. That’s not it, but….”
He could definitely tell he was being guided.
The tangled energy inside him was settling, however faintly.
In some ways, the guiding was actually far better than Sunwoo had expected.
There was a huge difference in their ranks, and their compatibility rate couldn’t exactly be called good either, so the effect was inevitably going to be limited.
Sunwoo had known that from the beginning and hadn’t expected much.
His completely honest impression had been that Gyujin had brought along some extra rookie simply to satisfy the condition for participating in the exercise.
Still, how was he supposed to describe this?
He felt bad saying it about Heemyung, but if the guiding Sunwoo usually received from Gyujin was a three-Michelin-star tasting menu, then Heemyung’s guiding was like a soggy, undercooked fish-shaped pastry someone had accidentally forgotten to put any filling in.
It would fill your stomach.
It just tasted like shit.
But saying that out loud would obviously get him called rude.
Possessing considerably more social awareness than Kwon Dajung, Sunwoo phrased it as politely as he could.
“It’s not bad. It’s just… not quite enough.”
“If it’s not bad, that’s good enough. Heemyung, good work.”
Heemyung stopped guiding and panted as he caught his breath.
Gyujin completely understood the pressure he was under.
And true to form, Gyujin was unfailingly gentle with junior Guides, so his manner toward Heemyung remained soft.
“Guiding Guk too right now might be too much for you. Let’s start the exercise first. If things get bad, come find us in the middle.”
“Understood.”
Moon Guk, who had been quietly watching from the side, answered obediently.
Gyujin patted Heemyung twice on the shoulder.
“Take a short break. You guys, hurry up and rejoin the main group.”
Gyujin jerked his chin toward Seo Sungmin.
He watched the others hurry away, then rubbed between his brows.
We’re going to need an S-rank Guide.
If Heemyung was exhausted after guiding just one of them, what were they supposed to do about everyone else?
This was making Gyujin uneasy.
No matter how much they hated the idea, maybe next time he really should bring Ko Hyeguk.
Gyujin reaffirmed the decision to himself.
At that exact moment, an explosion erupted somewhere ahead.
Dust blasted into the air, and the area abruptly descended into chaos.
Several Espers rushed over to protect the Guides gathered in the rear.
A translucent barrier spread around them in the shape of a dome.
A heartbeat later, dark red chunks mixed with dirt began raining down.
“Ah! B-Blood…!”
Heemyung’s mouth fell open in horror.
The dark red pieces weren’t rain.
They were the mangled remains of monsters.
Flesh and blood scattered everywhere like a scene straight out of hell.
The commotion drew everyone’s attention toward a single point.
The man at the front, slaughtering monsters, moved like he had finally found his natural habitat.
His pitch-black hair and uniform were already soaked with blood, gleaming wetly.
Kwon Dajung radiated foul temper from every inch of his body as he unleashed his ability.
Wherever he pointed, blood exploded into the air without fail.
It was such an excessively violent sight that even the people watching began to look sick of it.
The stench of blood seeped through the translucent barrier and turned Gyujin’s stomach.
He pressed the back of his hand firmly against his lips.
Maybe the medication was working, because he didn’t actually gag, but calming his churning stomach was still difficult.
This is killing me. Seriously.
Dajung throwing a murderous tantrum was bad enough, but in this condition, Gyujin didn’t think he was capable of participating in an exercise at all.
By this point, self-reproach and regret began creeping in.
No matter how stubborn Dajung was, I shouldn’t have followed them all the way here.
If Gyujin simply hadn’t come in the first place, Dajung wouldn’t have had any reason to cause trouble, and no one else would have been inconvenienced because of him.
The root of the problem was Gyujin himself, who had followed them here despite knowing perfectly well that he couldn’t be of any help.
He stared gloomily at Dajung’s back.
He could always soothe Dajung when he was sulking.
But if things like this kept happening, that would become a serious problem.
Standing on the boundary between ordinary life and everything outside it, Gyujin’s thoughts grew increasingly tangled.
For Dajung’s sake, and for his own, he already knew what the answer was.
If one small sacrifice could prevent a much larger problem, there was no reason not to make it.
Gyujin bit his lip and slowly rested a hand over his stomach.
And yet he kept hesitating.
The fact that he couldn’t bring himself to decide sent his mood plunging endlessly downward.