DMG Chapter 1 (Part 2)

Hyun Ho-joon tried to withdraw his power, his face contorting in frustration as he struggled to rein it in.

The Esper who had been holding the snake with webbing reached out, attempting to spin more threads, but they were too exhausted. Their face twisted with strain as they failed to produce anything substantial.

The flames continued to rage, dangerously close to breaking the cocoon-like bindings that barely held the monster in place.

Seizing the moment, Kang I-won dashed through the fiery chaos toward the monster.

The lingering heat licked at his clothes and seared his skin, sending waves of unbearable pain through his body. Gritting his teeth, Kang I-won pressed on, aiming for the tail, where the glossy, bulbous core was visible.

The tail flailed wildly, thrashing like a freshly caught fish out of water. The shimmering surface of the core jutted out prominently from the thin tail, a clear target.

Kang I-won raised his dagger, ready to drive it into the core, but at that exact moment, the sticky threads holding the snake broke completely.

The fin-like tail whipped through the air, narrowly dodging Kang I-won’s strike.

“Tch.”

Kang I-won clicked his tongue in frustration. The timing couldn’t have been worse.

As if on cue, the oppressive heat that had been tormenting him dissipated. One of the snake monster’s heads, now freed, locked onto Kang I-won. It let out a deafening roar, its sharp eyes fixated on him.

The snake monster transformed its tail into a sharp weapon. The fin-like appendages, which had been fluttering like a fan, closed tightly around the core as if to shield it, then morphed into a conical spike that swiftly thrust toward Kang I-won’s center.

It was an attack he could have dodged, but Kang I-won didn’t move. He accepted the blow, letting the tail pierce his abdomen. The spike tore through his body, emerging from his back.

Kuhk. Blood spilled from Kang I-won’s mouth, splattering onto the tail. Tasting the blood, the three-headed snake monster grinned, even in its pain.

But the monster’s satisfaction was short-lived. Without hesitation, Kang I-won gripped the tail’s fin-like edges and ripped them apart. Though the fins were tough, he tore precisely at the spot covering the core, exposing its glossy, bulging surface.

Kang I-won’s dagger plunged into the torn fins, cutting deeply into the flesh surrounding the core. He pressed the blade further, slicing downward to widen the wound.

Not stopping there, he drove the dagger even deeper, twisting it sharply. With a sickening crunch, the core, still attached to bits of flesh, was partially dislodged and dangled precariously.

Sensing danger, the snake monster quickly pulled its tail free, swinging it wide to shake him off.

The force of the tail’s withdrawal staggered Kang I-won, and before he could react, the monster’s flailing tail struck him directly. His body was flung through the air, headed straight for a building wall.

However, a telekinetic Esper’s power intervened, halting his momentum mid-air before he could crash.

“See? If your ability’s not good enough, your body ends up doing all the work,” came a dry, mocking remark.

Ignoring the snide comment, Kang I-won steadied himself as his feet touched the ground. Stumbling slightly, he moved back, and the Guide who had greeted him earlier rushed over to support him, guiding him to sit against a wall.

“Esper Kang I-won, good work. Leave the rest to us and take a breather.”

Kang I-won nodded wordlessly and pulled out a small tin case from his pocket. Inside were tiny pills, no bigger than a fingernail.

He took two pills, chewing them dry. The bitter taste lingered in his mouth, but he ignored it, putting the tin back in his pocket and retrieving a chocolate bar. As he munched on it, the hunger from using his ability began to subside.

As he rested, the burns on his skin healed, leaving no trace of injury, and the gaping wound in his abdomen gradually regenerated.

Unfortunately, his clothes didn’t regenerate, leaving his exposed torso in plain view. Across his stomach was a long scar cutting through his navel—a mark that never faded, no matter how much he healed.

Kang I-won glanced down at the scar, scratching at his stomach absentmindedly. He took another bite of his chocolate bar and turned his attention back to the battlefield.

The telekinetic Esper successfully extracted the dangling core, weakening the snake monster significantly. Its movements became sluggish, and it thrashed in desperation.

Sharp icicles pierced one of the monster’s heads, severing it. The head rolled to the ground with a loud thud before beginning to split again.

However, without the core, the splitting process was incredibly slow. While the severed head sluggishly divided, Hyun Ho-joon’s flames consumed the neck and head, filling the area with the smell of roasting meat, which only deepened Kang I-won’s hunger.

As he observed the scene, his wrist device beeped with a new message. It was from Han Kang-jin.

[Team Leader Han Kang-jin: Come to the Center immediately for a matching rate test.]

It seemed the rumored Guide had finally arrived.

Kang I-won was still reading the message when a shadow loomed over him. Glancing up, he saw the special Esper who had been restraining the snake monster with threads standing in front of him.

“Esper Kang I-won, are you okay?”

“As you can see,” Kang I-won replied.

“What I see looks pretty bad,” the Esper retorted.

“It’s all healed.”

Kang I-won extended his smooth arm through the charred remains of his tattered clothes as proof.

The special Esper, unable to hide their gratitude, said, “We owe you again. Thank you, as always.”

“Don’t mention it. But if it’s okay, I’d like to leave now. I need to get my matching rate tested.”

“Oh, I heard Team 5 doesn’t have a dedicated Guide yet. Did you finally get one? Then you should hurry over. Thanks again for today!”

With a quick farewell from the special Esper, Kang I-won left the scene.

His first stop upon reaching the Center was the showers. He couldn’t very well head to the testing room drenched in blood and sweat. After a fast shower, Kang I-won put on the training uniform provided by the Center, his hair still dripping wet as he made his way to the matching rate testing room.

“Hello, this is Kang I-won from Team 5. I heard there’s a matching rate test scheduled for me?”

The examiner, who had been staring straight ahead, greeted him warmly.

“Ah, Esper Kang I-won! Perfect timing. Esper Choi Soo-bin is being tested right now, so you can go in as soon as they’re done. Please wait here for a moment.”

“Understood.”

Kang I-won sat down on a chair in the waiting area, his gaze drifting to the thick reinforced glass separating him from the testing area. As he waited, his stomach growled, reminding him he hadn’t fully replenished his energy. Without shifting his gaze, he unwrapped a chocolate bar from his pocket and began to nibble on it.

Beyond the glass, two large, egg-shaped capsules were positioned in the testing area.

The capsules were connected by a single machine, with a large monitor attached to the center. The monitor displayed images of Choi Soo-bin and Heo Do-gyeong.

The man’s face, which Kang I-won saw for the first time through the photo, carried a gentle smile, leaving a soft and approachable impression. Even someone like Kang I-won, who typically paid no attention to others’ appearances, found his gaze lingering momentarily. Heo Do-gyeong was undeniably handsome.

Kang I-won’s eyes didn’t stay on the photo for long, shifting to take in the entire screen. Between the images of Choi Soo-bin and Heo Do-gyeong, a vertical bar resembling a battery icon began to fill. The bar filled gradually but slowed as it neared the top, then stopped completely.

After a moment, three small dots appeared, pulsing briefly before revealing a result: 68%.

“68%! That’s pretty good! With everyone else over 60%, I think it’s safe to say you’ll be assigned a permanent Guide. Congratulations in advance!” the examiner said cheerfully.

Kang I-won opened his mouth to respond but decided against it, finding it too bothersome.

“It’s a relief. The delays in assigning a dedicated Guide to Team 5 were starting to worry us. Anyway, once Esper Choi Soo-bin finishes, you’ll be next, so please get ready.”

Kang I-won nodded, finishing the last bite of his chocolate bar. As he swallowed, the testing room door opened, and Choi Soo-bin stretched dramatically as she stepped out.

“Ah! Finally, I can breathe! It’s been so long since I’ve felt this good. What the—oh, you’re already here? Team Leader said you’d be late.”

“Finished early, so I came ahead,” Kang I-won replied.

“Then you should’ve dried your hair. What’s with this mess?” Choi Soo-bin clicked her tongue, pinching a strand of his damp hair between her fingers.

“Don’t worry about it,” Kang I-won said flatly, brushing her hand away as he stood and walked into the testing room.

Inside, the open capsule to his left was occupied by the person he’d just seen in the photo: Heo Do-gyeong.

He looked far less composed in person, his furrowed brow and the way he pressed his fingers against his temples betraying his fatigue. The gentle demeanor from the photo was nowhere to be seen; instead, he radiated a prickly aura.

Heo Do-gyeong glanced at Kang I-won and asked curtly, “You’re the last one?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s get this over with. I’m tired.”

Without a word, Kang I-won nodded and sat in the empty capsule.

He strapped on the wrist device and leaned back in the chair as the capsule lid closed around him. After a brief wait, a faint trace of the Guide’s energy began to flow through the device.

Even from this indirect exposure, Kang I-won could feel his previously unstable wavelengths calming down. The sensation was unlike anything he’d felt before, a newfound sense of balance and ease that left no doubt in his mind.

He instinctively knew one thing for certain:

His matching rate with Heo Do-gyeong would be significantly high.

If actual Guiding felt even better than this, it would be remarkable. The persistent headaches, nausea, and occasional ringing in his ears caused by Guiding deprivation would surely vanish in an instant.

For most other Espers, this would have been a moment of celebration. But for Kang I-won, it was simply underwhelming.

The monitor outside the capsule displayed the photos of Heo Do-gyeong and Kang I-won side by side. Three dots alternated between growing and shrinking as the system calculated their matching rate. Moments later, the result appeared:

89%.

“Eighty-nine percent?”

Choi Soo-bin, watching from outside, whistled softly in admiration.

The average matching rate for a team Guide typically ranged between 60% and 80%. A rate above 80% was exceedingly rare, with most hovering around the low 70s at best. To see a rate of 89% was nothing short of astounding.

“Man, I’m jealous. Mine was only 68%.”

“Hey, 68% isn’t bad at all,” the examiner reassured.

“Sure, but compared to 89%, it feels a little lacking. I wonder how amazing Guiding at 89% feels. My highest match was only 75%.”

“Does the difference in matching rate really make that much of a difference?”

“Of course!”

Choi Soo-bin launched into an enthusiastic explanation about the wonders of higher matching rates, chatting animatedly with the examiner.

Meanwhile, the capsule Kang I-won was in opened with a quiet hiss.

Choi Soo-bin looked over with curiosity, her interest piqued. She wondered how her stoic teammate might react to such extraordinary news.

However, Kang I-won’s expression as he rose from the seat and glanced at the screen was no different from when he first entered the capsule.

Choi Soo-bin’s excitement deflated as her face fell in disappointment.

“Is he even an Esper? I mean, come on, 89%, and he doesn’t even flinch…”

Clicking her tongue, she muttered, “There isn’t a single Esper in the world as indifferent about Guiding as he is. I’ve known him forever, but I still don’t understand what goes on in his head.”

“Yeah, he does seem a bit emotionally… restrained,” the examiner agreed.

“That’s just how he is,” Choi Soo-bin sighed.

Both of them continued to watch Kang I-won, whose indifferent demeanor showed no sign of changing.

Contrary to Choi Soo-bin’s remarks, Kang I-won was more unsettled than he let on after seeing the matching rate.

“Our matching rate is pretty high, isn’t it?”

The pleasant tone of a soft voice rang in his ears. Heo Do-gyeong, who had stepped out of his capsule and was now glancing at the monitor, spoke with a hint of surprise. Kang I-won avoided his gaze and replied in a quiet voice, “I guess so.”

“Why? Isn’t that a good thing? Espers usually go wild over high matching rates with a Guide.”

Though Heo Do-gyeong’s lips curled into a smile, his cold eyes made it seem more like a mocking smirk. In fact, it was a mocking smirk. Feeling the inexplicable hostility, Kang I-won reluctantly answered, “…It is.”

“Hmm? Ah… is that how it is?”

Heo Do-gyeong seemed to come to some conclusion on his own, murmured to himself, and then walked past Kang I-won, leaving the room without another word. Outside the testing area, he didn’t even glance at Choi Soo-bin and immediately left the premises.

As Kang I-won exited the room shortly after, Choi Soo-bin slung an arm over his shoulder and spoke in a conspiratorial tone.

“So, what did Heo-tto say?”

“He asked if it was good,” Kang I-won replied.

“Because of the high matching rate?”

“Yeah.”

Choi Soo-bin cast a glance at where Heo Do-gyeong had been standing moments before and muttered, “Judging by the situation and the matching rate, it looks like he’ll be assigned to our team for now… but wow, he’s really prickly. No way we’re getting close to him, huh?”

“There’s no need to get close, is there?”

“That, my dear I-won, is why I’m your only friend. You realize that, right?”

“Don’t need any others.”

“So stoic. Hmm, I don’t know how long he’ll be around, but it’d be nice if he stayed until we find another Guide with a high matching rate,” Choi Soo-bin remarked.

At this, the examiner tilted her head in confusion and asked, “Huh? What do you mean? The team’s average matching rate is pretty good. Isn’t he going to be assigned as your permanent Guide?”

Choi Soo-bin chuckled lightly, brushing off the comment as if it were nothing.

“He’s an S-rank, you know. There aren’t many S-rank Guides in the country, right? Honestly, even assigning him to another S-rank Esper wouldn’t feel like enough. Do you really think they’ll stick him with a team like ours that only has A- and B-rank Espers? I guarantee you, he’ll head back to Seoul soon. A few months, tops.”

“Really? Is that true?”

“Yep, it’s true. Oh, by the way, you’ve only been here for a short while, haven’t you?”

“Yes, just about three months now.”

“Then there’s still a lot you don’t know.”

With that, Choi Soo-bin plopped into the empty chair next to the examiner and began to chatter away, sharing all sorts of details and gossip for the newcomer’s benefit. The examiner listened intently, her expression full of curiosity.

Meanwhile, Kang I-won, leaving the two to their conversation, exited the testing area completely.

His stomach growled again, unsatisfied with just a single chocolate bar. Scratching his stomach absentmindedly, he pulled out a pouch of jelly snacks and popped one into his mouth as he headed for the cafeteria on the first floor.

Kang I-won’s regeneration ability allowed him to rapidly heal any injuries to his body. However, the downside of this ability was the overwhelming hunger that followed every time he used it. As a result, despite his lean appearance, he ate far more than the average person.

It wasn’t just after using his ability that his appetite grew—ever since gaining his powers, his daily food intake had skyrocketed. This left him constantly grappling with food expenses, which strained his wallet more than he cared to admit.

By the time he polished off his third jelly snack, Kang I-won arrived at the cafeteria. He paid for his meal using the automatic payment system on his wrist device and grabbed a tray.

The cafeteria was buffet-style, allowing him to pile on as much food as he wanted at an affordable price. While the taste wasn’t anything special, the value made it a favorite spot for Kang I-won.

Stacking his tray high with rice and side dishes, he found a quiet corner to sit in and began eating at a rapid pace. The mountain of food on his tray quickly disappeared as he consumed it with mechanical efficiency.

Despite his rapid eating pace, Kang I-won’s movements were remarkably tidy and devoid of any sloppiness. A few late diners nearby glanced at him curiously, seemingly fascinated by the sight.

Ignoring the attention, Kang I-won made three more trips to the buffet. Finally satisfied, he rubbed his still-flat stomach and left the cafeteria.

As he headed toward the training room to resume his routine, his wrist device let out a series of beeps. It was a notification that his monthly salary had been deposited.

Walking toward the training room, Kang I-won began managing his finances through the device.

More than half of his salary went toward repaying his debts. Of the remaining portion, he divided it into several accounts.

Some funds were allocated for rent and utility bills, while another portion was set aside for food and household necessities. After these deductions, only a small amount remained, which he transferred into an emergency savings account for unforeseen expenses.

By the time his paycheck account had been reduced to a few thousand won, Kang I-won reached the training room. He turned off the device’s screen and stepped inside.

With practiced ease, he grabbed a 1-liter bottle from his personal locker and poured in a generous amount of protein powder provided by the Center. Filling it with water, he gave the bottle a vigorous shake.

After a brief moment of rest on a chair, Kang I-won stood and stretched before stepping onto the treadmill. He quickly increased the speed, running at a steady, intense pace.

Training was a crucial part of Kang I-won’s daily life.

The fact that someone with a seemingly straightforward ability like regeneration had managed to achieve an A-rank status was largely due to his relentless dedication to consistent training.

Esper rankings were determined by a combination of factors, with the most important being the inherent ability itself. For instance, Woo Young-seon of the Seoul branch was an S-rank solely because of the exceptional value of his Barrier ability.

However, having an impressive ability didn’t guarantee a high ranking.

Kang I-won’s ability, regeneration, was not unique; others possessed it as well, making it far from extraordinary. Yet, his regeneration was unparalleled, the most potent of its kind ever recorded.

To the extent that even if his neck were severed or his heart pierced, Kang I-won would not die. No injury, no matter how fatal, could kill him.

Had human experimentation on Espers still been legal, Kang I-won’s ability would have made him an immediate candidate for a laboratory specimen due to its extraordinary nature.

From a purely objective standpoint, his ability alone was deserving of an S-rank classification. However, regeneration had limited applicability in combat, rendering it highly situational.

If he could regenerate others, that might have been a different story. But his ability only worked on himself, making it, as many put it, a “useless blessing.”

It was an ability often labeled selfish—allowing its wielder to survive even if everyone else perished.

This was the general sentiment surrounding regeneration abilities, and Kang I-won agreed with the assessment. His power was selfish, through and through.

Even so, he pushed himself. Selfish or not, it was the only power he had, so what choice did he have?

Kang I-won carried a heavy burden of debt—an overwhelming amount. The only way he could repay it was by earning money as an Esper, eliminating monsters.

This drove him to push himself relentlessly during his time at the Esper training facility, a place every Esper had to pass through at least once. Kang I-won trained until he felt nauseated, to a level so intense that even others shook their heads in disbelief.

Thanks to his efforts, the once scrawny Kang I-won, whose body had been little more than skin and bones, developed solid muscles. Although his ability was “just regeneration,” the rapid physical development granted by awakening as an Esper was undeniable.

He also trained with every weapon he could get his hands on. While he quickly abandoned firearms due to a complete lack of talent, he eventually found a weapon that suited him after experimenting with several others—a dagger.

There were many melee Espers like Kang I-won who wielded weapons, but their abilities typically revolved around weaponry techniques.

Weaponry techniques were abilities that allowed Espers to instinctively master specific weapons. Upon awakening, those with such abilities naturally understood the weapon best suited to them, allowing them to learn and wield it with remarkable efficiency.

As a result, very few Espers without such abilities bothered to train with weapons. Most only learned to shoot firearms, if anything.

For Espers with abilities unrelated to combat, there was no reason to engage in fieldwork. Conversely, those with combat-related abilities rarely needed weapons at all.

But Kang I-won trained with weapons despite lacking the “weaponry techniques” ability. He gripped his chosen dagger so tightly that his palms tore dozens—if not hundreds—of times in the process.

Unfortunately, his regeneration ability erased any sign of these efforts. His smooth, unmarred hands bore no evidence of his struggles, leaving no proof of his dedication for others to see.

Yet Kang I-won didn’t care. He never felt the need for anyone to acknowledge his efforts.

For two years, he trained like this. When the time came for his final evaluation upon leaving the training facility, he was assigned a B-rank. His exceptional regeneration ability and the determination to delve into monsters’ innards and pierce their hearts, undeterred by injuries, earned him that rank.

However, when Kang I-won was dispatched to the provinces and assigned to a team, his position on the field proved ambiguous.

Espers with weaponry techniques typically supported physical enhancement Espers, who acted as the team’s frontline.

But Kang I-won lacked weaponry techniques. Despite his B-rank, he struggled to meet the expectations of his rank. No matter how hard he worked, he couldn’t match those with innate abilities.

This often caused him to hinder physical enhancement Espers. When his lack of skill led to his teammates getting injured, Kang I-won always blamed himself.

His smooth, unscarred skin, visible through the rips in his uniform, seemed almost shameful—a silent reminder that his ability allowed only himself to escape harm.

Enduring his teammates’ resentment and complaints, Kang I-won spent countless hours pondering how to make the best use of his ability.

The answer came easily, almost mockingly so, eliciting a bitter laugh from him.

After all, the only reason he had been granted an undeserved B-rank was his unyielding determination to press forward despite being injured.