On the monitor was Cha Gweonwoo’s personal info. His expression was strange—like someone who’d just found a long-lost brother in a faraway land.
I yanked hard on his arm. This was no time to stand there gawking.
“Hurry! We don’t have time!”
I’d heard if you booked a training slot and didn’t show up on time, you got penalized. No way was I letting my esper get hit with a penalty on his first training day. My pride as his guide was on the line.
“This way, quickly!”
Dragging him by the hand, I sprinted to Platform 3, where the tram marked Training Center A2 was already waiting.
By the time we boarded, I was panting hard.
“Ugh, hot.”
I fanned myself, then hurried to crack the window for some air.
Next to me, Gweonwoo sat hunched like a disconnected robot, still dazed. I wanted to ask what the hell he’d been thinking about since earlier, but decided it wasn’t my place. Instead, I glanced at his sweat and pushed the window open wider.
We weren’t close enough to exchange worried remarks.
***
We were stopped at the entrance to the training ground.
For safety and security, no outsiders were allowed inside except the trainee. But they said there was a viewing booth upstairs where I could watch.
So I had no choice but to send Gweonwoo in alone and head for the outside elevator. Still, the look on his face when he turned back at the door stuck with me.
He’d looked like… like a five-year-old being dropped at daycare, separated from his parents for the first time.
Why the hell would Cha Gweonwoo look at me like that…?
Was he scared to go in alone? To be fair, even I felt dwarfed by the sheer size of the training center.
Should I have wished him good luck? Maybe grabbed his hand one last time? Did I turn away too coldly?
Thinking too much, I smacked my forehead with my palm.
Seriously, since when do I let his eyes get under my skin like this?
I was still mulling as I stepped into the elevator—only to realize someone else had entered with me. Surprised, I glanced over.
Cha Gweonwoo was the only one scheduled for A2 training right now. Who else would come to watch?
Whoever she was, she carried a heavy presence.
I’d heard espers could freely observe each other’s training, but I hadn’t expected anyone to show up for Gweonwoo’s very first session in this state.
The woman wore full uniform, a captain’s armband strapped to her left arm.
I barely knew anyone in this field—let alone espers—but her face seemed oddly familiar. Not someone I knew personally. Maybe I’d glimpsed her before?
My eyes traced the slanted lift of her gaze, the thick, even brows. I tilted my head.
Where the hell have I seen her?
Then I noticed the flame insignia over her right pocket—same team as Gweonwoo.
Ah.
It hit me: she was the colleague who’d spoken with him at the Guiding Center.
Seemed she was close with him, and had taken over as acting captain while he was out. I snapped my eyes to the elevator door before I stared too much, but she spoke first.
“Are you… Kim Doweon?”
I jerked my head around in shock.
How did she know my name?
When our eyes met, her face lit with recognition and surprise.
“I knew it! You’re Esper Cha Gweonwoo’s partner guide!”
Her name was Kang Juhee. As I’d guessed, she was serving as temporary captain while Gweonwoo was away.
“But… how do you know my name?”
Puzzled, I asked. She was tying her long hair up, rabbit-like eyes flashing as she shot the question right back:
“Is there an esper in our branch who doesn’t know Guide Kim Doweon?”
“…Me?”
Every esper knew me? What kind of nonsense—?
Seeing my disbelief, Juhee tucked her hair neatly under a beret and grinned.
“You’re famous as the guide Gweonwoo’s smeared honey on.”
He smearedwhat on me?
“Since we’ve met, why don’t you tell me your secret? How’d you manage to tame that bastard?”
Tame? What the hell?
Never in my life did I think I’d be “famous” for something like this. If there was a rumor Cha Gweonwoo had boiled me alive in a pot, I’d buy that. But me taming him?
“They say in the Guiding Center he turned into a docile little lamb thanks to you.”
“A… lamb? Excuse me?”
My voice jumped before I could stop it.
Was “lamb” supposed to mean something else? Was there some animal besides the fluffy sheep I knew?
“I got thrown in the hallway just last week.”
Not that it was a badge of honor, but I clenched my fists, indignant.
Juhee looked me up and down, eyes bluntly sweeping, then exaggerated her surprise.
“He threw you and didn’t even break a rib? Wow. Our Gweonwoo’s practically a gentleman now.”
I had no words. Gweonwoo, you bastard. Your life’s been so dogshit that people think not breaking someone’s ribs counts as growth?
Still, I couldn’t let rumors stand that I was some beloved partner in Seoul Branch. So I explained myself.
“I don’t know why people are saying that. I’ve never had a single conversation with him. I mean, I’ve talked at him a thousand times—but he ignored every word.”
“Not once? Even after all those sessions?”
“Not once.”
“Figures. Crazy bastard.”
Hearing Juhee curse him so cleanly gave me a strange relief.
Please spread that rumor far and wide: Kim Doweon and Cha Gweonwoo are not close. I want no strings attached.
But Juhee didn’t seem to care much about that, and changed the subject.
“I heard he went back to being twenty years old. What’s he like?”
Instead of answering, I glanced down at the field. Gweonwoo had stepped out with his trainer. From up here, both of them looked like dots in the massive domed arena.
So, what’s he like at twenty? Where do I even begin?
“He’s like a completely different person. Talks more, for one. I really thought he was mute.”
Once I started, the words spilled out.
“He used to hate being touched—guiding was impossible—but now he doesn’t mind. He’s not shy anymore, he even acts cute sometimes… honestly, he’s so different it’s hard to adjust.”
“Mhm. If it’s Cha Gweonwoo at twenty…”
Juhee sat with her legs crossed, nodding absentmindedly like it all made sense. The implication alone floored me.
“So… was that his original personality?”
What the hell did he go through on the job to warp into what he became?
When I trailed off, Juhee shrugged.
“Spend long enough in the field, deal with enough shit, and your personality changes whether you like it or not.”
“…”
“I never swore in my whole life, but now I can’t even use comms without ‘fuck’ in every other sentence.”
She actually laughed while saying it. I clamped my knees together, chastened. She stretched her neck till her joints cracked.
Scary.
I squeezed my knees tighter, and she threw her head back and laughed big.
Maybe that laugh carried, because down in the arena, Gweonwoo glanced up at us. From this distance I couldn’t see his face clearly, but I could imagine his expression.
Probably those same lost-duckling eyes as before.
“Think he can hear us?” I asked Juhee, uneasy.
“No way.”
True enough. We were behind layers of thick glass.
Juhee said all kinds of things happened during training. This arena was twelve stories tall; once, an esper had filled the whole thing to the ceiling with water. They couldn’t use it for a week while they drained it.
And apparently, that was nothing. Sure it was reinforced, but sometimes spectators still died watching. Whether that was fact or just a scare tactic, I couldn’t tell.
Meanwhile, around the arena’s edge, glass walls thick as my torso rose up. A massive mechanical rumble shook the ground. I jumped, then realized why: the terrain inside was transforming.
Like stage scenery shifting in blackout, the field twisted and reformed.
Trees shot up thick and fast. Rocks and boulders sprouted. Then the ground split and a stream of water rushed across.
In moments, it looked like they’d transplanted an entire mountain inside. My jaw dropped at the scale.