DMG Chapter 7 (Part 2)

“Really? That’s great. Hyun Ho-jun… wasn’t he from Team 7?”

Hyun Ho-jun… was he from Team 7? Kang I-won couldn’t remember clearly — he hadn’t paid attention. As he clammed up awkwardly, Soo-bin continued knowingly.

“If he’s the guy with fire powers, then yeah — Team 7, B-rank.”

“He transferred to our team after being promoted to A-rank.”

“Ah… well, fire’s got serious destructive power. I heard he was ranked B because of control issues.”

“You know more than I do.”

“Or maybe you just don’t care. You really haven’t changed. But seriously, didn’t you miss me at all?”

“Not even a little.”

At Kang I-won’s blunt reply, Choi Soo-bin squinted at him.

“Liar.”

“It’s true.”

“Really? Not even a little lonely? Was I that forgettable?”

“It’s not that.”

He had no time to miss Soo-bin — not with Heo Do-gyeong around. If anything, Heo Do-gyeong caused more chaos than Soo-bin ever did, and there were times when he was even more exhausting.

Kang I-won hesitated before answering.

“Because of Guide Heo Do-gyeong.”

“Oh, Heo’s still in South Gyeonggi, right? Why? Something going on with him?”

“Not exactly…”

Seeing Kang I-won unable to finish his sentence, Choi Soo-bin tilted her head and asked.

“What is it? Why can’t you say it? Is something really going on?”

“It’s not exactly something going on…”

Kang I-won hesitated before answering cautiously.

“…He kind of… acted like you.”

“Huh?”

Kang I-won thought of Heo Do-gyeong recently — always commenting on everything, always frowning whenever Kang I-won pushed himself, worrying incessantly.

Thinking of the way his face would twist in concern made Kang I-won’s chest ache for no reason. It didn’t feel the same as when Choi Soo-bin worried about him.

Now that he thought about it, saying Heo Do-gyeong acted like Soo-bin wasn’t quite accurate. At least Soo-bin only reacted like that when things were really serious — like when Kang I-won looked half-dead. Heo Do-gyeong, on the other hand, did it constantly. Kang I-won muttered under his breath.

“…Actually, worse than you.”

“Oh my.”

Choi Soo-bin covered her mouth, then asked in a voice full of amusement,

“Does he like you?”

“Why would you say that out of nowhere? I mean, I did wonder for a second, but I don’t think so.”

“Why not? You never know.”

“No. Definitely not.”

Kang I-won answered firmly. Heo Do-gyeong, like him? No way.

“Then why does he act like that?”

“He said I get on his nerves.”

Heo Do-gyeong especially worried over him, and was unusually soft with him. But Kang I-won knew that came from a past incident — something that didn’t need to be shared with Soo-bin. Since she didn’t know the details, she looked at him skeptically and said,

“Sounds like love to me.”

“I’m telling you, it’s not.”

At Kang I-won’s firm denial, Choi Soo-bin grinned and asked,

“Then what exactly does he do? Tell me. How is he acting so I don’t even get missed?”

“He acts like you — no, maybe worse.”

“Okay, but specifically how?”

“Did you know he’s working in the field now?”

“What? I thought that was just a rumor — it’s true?”

Kang I-won nodded and continued.

“Yeah. He’s been working with us lately… first, he designated himself as my mentor.”

“And?”

“He tells me to take it easy no matter what I do. Like I’m pushing myself too hard.”

“So, he worries about you. And?”

“Last time, I protected him and he got all mad.”

There were other things, too — like how he was especially soft only toward Kang I-won — but he kept quiet about those. For some reason, saying it out loud felt… embarrassing.

Choi Soo-bin scoffed and asked:

“You risked your life to protect him, didn’t you?”

“……”

“I knew it.”

By then, the food they ordered began arriving one by one. The table, which had been modestly set with a few side dishes, quickly filled with various dishes — jokbal, bossam, buckwheat noodles, rice balls, and more. As Choi Soo-bin mixed her noodles, she asked,

“Does he worry about anyone besides you?”

Heo Do-gyeong barely spoke to anyone outside of Team 5. But did he care about the others in Team 5? Not at all. His attention was solely on Kang I-won.

“…No, no one else.”

“Really? Hm. Hey, the garlic bossam’s great. Try this.”

She scooped a generous portion of garlic bossam and piled it onto Kang I-won’s plate. He picked up three pieces at once and popped them into his mouth.

“Yeah, that’s good.”

“This place is supposed to be popular — and it’s worth it.”

“Agreed.”

They ate in silence for a bit until Choi Soo-bin swallowed her food and asked,

“What do you think?”

“About what?”

“Heo Do-gyeong. How do you feel about him? Like him? Hate him?”

“…Do we have to go straight to extremes?”

“Okay, then — do you dislike him?”

He hadn’t thought about it much, but if he had to be honest, at first, he’d disliked Heo Do-gyeong. The guy kept throwing away his gloves right in front of him and acted like a jerk — only toward him. What was there to like?

But now? He liked him. The constant worrying, the attention, the way he was only soft with Kang I-won — he liked it all. Heo Do-gyeong’s gentle guiding, especially, was something he genuinely enjoyed.

“…I don’t dislike him.”

Strangely, admitting that he liked him felt too embarrassing to say aloud.

As Kang I-won hesitated, unable to give a clear answer, Choi Soo-bin spoke.

“I haven’t seen it firsthand, so I can’t say for sure, but from how that grump acts only toward you? I’d say he’s pretty fond of you. He even delayed going back to Seoul just to stay here — that says a lot.”

She pointed her chopsticks at him.

“But it doesn’t matter how he feels if you’re not on the same page. So think about it properly. What are your feelings for Heo Do-gyeong?”

It didn’t matter what he felt. Soo-bin didn’t know that — and continued. Her chopsticks lowered again as she added with a grin,

“Think about it. And if you don’t totally hate the idea, just go ahead and get imprinted. An S-rank Guide with high compatibility? You hit the jackpot. I deserve some credit too, so if you do imprint, treat me again. Next time, we’re going somewhere expensive.”

“Imprint? That’s not gonna happen.”

“Don’t be so sure. You never know what could happen.”

Sure, people say you never know what life holds, but Kang I-won did know. He had to. He only gave the surface-level reason, hiding the true one deep inside.

“He’s S-rank.”

“And that S-rank Guide dropped right into your lap. How often does that happen? You better lock it down with an imprint before anyone else figures it out. That’s how everyone does it, right? And once it’s done, what can they do about it? No one’s gonna kill an imprinted Esper — especially not you, since you can’t die.”

An Esper-Guide imprint was only broken if one of them died. Sure, there were other ways, but that was the most common.

Choi Soo-bin squinted her eyes at him.

“What’s that look? Why are you smiling like that?”

“What?”

Kang I-won reached up and touched the corner of his mouth. He could feel the slight upward curve of a smile. Why was he smiling? He quickly returned to his usual blank expression. Watching him, Choi Soo-bin asked with a serious look,

“You hiding something from me?”

“Like what?”

“Anything.”

Her gaze sharpened. She was always sharp like that. But even for Soo-bin, Kang I-won had no intention of talking about the changes in his ability.

In fact, he hoped Soo-bin wouldn’t find out — not until the end. He didn’t want his only friend to worry. And, more than anything, he didn’t want her to notice what he truly wished for.

It was something he had wanted and waited for, for a long time. He didn’t want anything to interfere with it.

Feigning indifference, Kang I-won shifted the topic.

“Did you forget? Guide Heo Do-gyeong’s a germophobe.”

“I didn’t forget, okay?”

“He even hates touching people’s hands, so he guides with gloves on. You think he’d do anything with me?”

Imprinting could only happen through guiding that involved sexual contact. Even then, it wasn’t guaranteed — just the only known method.

The exact mechanism behind imprinting remained unknown, but it was theorized that the closer the relationship between Esper and Guide, the higher the chances.

Choi Soo-bin sighed and cautiously replied.

“…Yeah, but isn’t he soft with you? And come on, germophobia doesn’t mean he’ll stay celibate forever. He’s got all the same equipment, right?”

The rest of their food arrived. Kang I-won shifted plates around to make room, responding flatly,

“Even so, I wouldn’t be the one.”

“You never know.”

The idea of Heo Do-gyeong imprinting on him? Kang I-won couldn’t even imagine it. It wouldn’t happen. Never.

At his firm stance, Choi Soo-bin scoffed in disappointment.

“What’s with you? Don’t Espers ever want Guides?”

“Of course we do.”

If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have asked Heo Do-gyeong to stay by his side. No matter how Heo Do-gyeong felt, Kang I-won wouldn’t have accepted him.

But he had. He’d allowed himself a small desire. Just for as long as he was part of Team 5, he wanted Heo Do-gyeong to stay as their Guide — to stay beside him. That was enough. Anything beyond that was greed.

And greed always led to ruin. That’s why Kang I-won never let himself want more.

Or at least, he tried not to.

“So, how was it over there? You said you were sent to Ulleungdo, right?”

He shifted the topic again. Catching on, Soo-bin naturally followed.

“Honestly? Never want to go back… once was enough. There’s nothing to do there. I was bored to death.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. And I had it easy. A teammate got sent to Dokdo and was about ready to die of boredom. I mean, what’s even out there? Looking at the sea gets old fast.”

Soo-bin shuddered dramatically. A social person who loved hobbies and mingling, she clearly hadn’t fared well in such isolation.

As she rambled about her tough days, she suddenly remembered something, setting her chopsticks down and speaking quickly.

“Oh! There was a dungeon event near Dokdo, so I got called to assist — and I saw an S-rank Esper. Damn… S-ranks really are different. He handled everything solo. I don’t even know why they called backup.”

A-rank and below were ranked through a mix of factors. But S-ranks were decided purely by ability.

S-rank Espers were on another level entirely — A-ranks were at least human, but S-ranks were closer to monsters.

It’s often joked that the number of S-ranks a country has reflects its military power. That’s how rare and powerful they are — the chosen few.

Kang I-won himself had only seen a few in person, and even then, only from a distance. He asked curiously,

“S-rank? Why was one out there?”

“It was intense. I didn’t even get to talk to him properly, but there were rumors he got sent out there for screwing something up. No idea what really happened. And apparently, there weren’t many Guides around, so a B-rank got stuck as his partner. Poor kid looked like he was dying from the stress, but man, tough as nails — just took it all.”

Soo-bin shrugged and picked up her chopsticks again.

“That’s not what I meant to say, but anyway, seeing him made me realize why S-ranks are S-ranks. I mean, I’m pretty strong for an A-rank, and even I thought I might qualify. Nope — totally different league.”

From there, the conversation veered off to random topics, mostly driven by Soo-bin. Kang I-won focused on clearing his plate, listening attentively.

Time passed, the plates emptied, and despite his slower healing, his appetite hadn’t changed. If anything, he sometimes felt even hungrier.

About halfway through the food, Soo-bin just chatted while Kang I-won continued eating at a steady pace.

They finished with dessert and wrapped up early, since Soo-bin had another engagement. Checking the time, she waved.

“Let’s meet again soon, okay? Stay healthy.”

“You too.”

“I’ll message you — come visit next time, got it?”

“Yeah.”

With that loose promise, they parted ways. As Kang I-won walked in the opposite direction, he thought absently.

Now… just Heo Do-gyeong left.

He’d made a reservation at one of Heo Do-gyeong’s recommended spots — the closest one. Even choosing the earliest available date, it was so popular that the wait was nearly a month.

A month. It felt both short and long. Thinking of the time left, Kang I-won headed home.

* * *

03:06.28

* * *

It could only be called carelessness.

The monster had been taken down, the core retrieved, and the corpses gathered in one place for disposal. Everything was finished — all that remained was to return. Just then, the dead monster’s belly split open, and something shot toward Heo Do-gyeong at high speed. Without even time to identify what it was, Kang I-won threw himself forward.

In a fleeting moment, he locked eyes with something. As it rushed toward his face, everything went black.

When he came to, it was late at night. Moonlight streamed through the window, falling across the sheets. White curtains surrounded the bed.

Why am I here?

The familiar setting made Kang I-won slowly raise his upper body, only for a sudden headache to slam into him. He grimaced, clutching his head as a groan escaped his lips. Biting down hard to stifle the pain, he slowly lifted his head as the headache faded.

Right, he remembered now. He’d locked eyes with something — and it must have hit his head hard.

But no matter how badly injured he’d been, the regeneration this time was far too slow. It had never taken this long before…

Like a drop of ink in a still pool, a strange sense of anticipation spread through his chest. He couldn’t hold back the urge to confirm it — but there was nothing here.

He wanted to go home and check. The urge was overwhelming, but another wave of headache forced him to keep his hand to his forehead. After a moment of steady breathing, the pain subsided slightly.

Lowering his hand, Kang I-won sat up fully, his gaze instinctively drawn past the curtain.

There, a faint silhouette appeared behind the curtain, as if someone were standing there. Last time, it had been Heo Do-gyeong behind that curtain. A vague sense of hope rose in his chest, and without hesitation, Kang I-won reached out and pulled it aside.

The balloon of expectation burst and deflated instantly. With a dull voice, he called out to the dozing figure with arms crossed in front of him.

“Team Leader?”

Han Kang-jin was slumped in a chair, asleep in a very uncomfortable-looking position. What was he doing sleeping here? Reaching out, Kang I-won shook his shoulder gently to wake him.

“Team Leader, if you’re going to sleep, lie down. Team Leader.”

Startled by the voice, Han Kang-jin jerked awake. Blinking rapidly, he looked around, then quickly focused on Kang I-won and snapped back to alertness.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. You’re awake?”

“Yes. What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean, what am I doing? You wouldn’t wake up, so I was keeping watch. Tch. How do you feel? You alright?”

Kang I-won nodded, and Han Kang-jin adjusted his posture, his tone turning more serious.

“So. You’ve got something to say, don’t you?”

There was only one thing to say. Both of them knew it. Pressing his lips tightly together, Kang I-won answered.

“You already figured it out, didn’t you?”

“Figuring it out and hearing it from your own mouth are two different things.”

Han Kang-jin gestured for him to speak. Kang I-won licked his dry lips.

Until now, it had just been a guess. But now… he was certain. No matter how bad the head injury had been, regeneration had never taken this long.

Carefully, Kang I-won gave voice to his suspicion.

“As you expected… my ability is disappearing. Thankfully, my regeneration is still intact — for now.”

“When did it start?”

“I’m not exactly sure when it started… but I’ve been feeling it for a while. I already got tested. I’ll tell you when the results come out — should be soon.”

Han Kang-jin frowned deeply.

“You should’ve told me sooner.”

“I wanted to wait until I was sure.”

He had planned to tell Han Kang-jin once it was no longer a guess, but a certainty. Now that the test was done, and the regeneration this time had taken far too long, he was convinced.

Han Kang-jin didn’t speak for a moment. He simply pressed his lips together, face clouded with a heavy expression.

The loss of an ability was, to most Espers, no different from a sudden disaster.

From the moment of awakening, Espers lost the freedom to choose. There was no option but to become an Esper. Losing their powers meant becoming just another ordinary person — and for many, it was a difficult transition.

Unless one was left with some residual physical strength, the enhanced power granted by being an Esper vanished completely, leaving only the body’s natural limits. They’d become slightly sturdier than average, but still just another regular person.

Even with government aid, it was hard to find work. An Esper’s experience meant nothing in the ordinary world. It was like starting over with nothing.

Even if they gained certifications and skills through government support, they’d often find the income too low and search for something better. But it was the same cycle — without any foundation, they were stuck in place.

Some managed to adapt to civilian life. Many didn’t.

After a long pause, Han Kang-jin finally spoke, his voice dry.

“…I get it. For now, let’s wait until we’re sure. You did well, though — things could’ve gone very badly. Of all places, it had to come flying at him…”

If Kang I-won hadn’t thrown himself in the way, it would’ve been Heo Do-gyeong lying in this bed. Kang I-won frowned, a question surfacing.

“What was that thing?”

“A monster. What else? Apparently, it was carrying a fetus.”

“Ah…”

Monsters birthing offspring wasn’t unheard of, but it was rare. It was Kang I-won’s first time seeing it in person. Just his luck. He sighed to himself.

Stretching his stiff body, Han Kang-jin stood.

“Now that I know you’re safe, I’ll head out. Oh, and text Guide Heo Do-gyeong — let him know you’re awake. He was really shaken.”

Kang I-won blinked slowly.

“…Guide Heo Do-gyeong?”

“Yeah. Thought you were dead and lost it. Refused to leave, so I forced him to go home. Said you’d text when you woke up, but it’s late now — just send a message saying you’re okay.”

Kang I-won nodded.

“Alright. I’ll do that. Get home safe.”

“Yeah. You rest too.”

Yawning widely, Han Kang-jin left the infirmary. Kang I-won sat on the bed, thinking. What should he even text Heo Do-gyeong?

After a moment’s thought, he stood up.

He’d planned to go home anyway. The headache lingered faintly, but his place wasn’t far from the Center — walking wouldn’t be hard. He figured he could draft the message along the way.

Halfway home, walking along a quiet, empty road, Kang I-won finally sent a message to Heo Do-gyeong:
[I’m fine now, so you don’t need to worry.]

It was late — he assumed Heo Do-gyeong would read it in the morning.

But contrary to expectation, his phone rang the moment the message was sent. Caller ID: Heo Do-gyeong.

What was he doing awake at this hour? Clicking his tongue, Kang I-won answered.

—Are you alright?!

“I texted to say I’m fine.”

—You expect me to believe that after what I saw?! Wait, just hold on. I’m coming to the Center right now—

“Don’t come. I’m on my way home. You won’t find me there.”

—…What?

“I’m walking home. About halfway there. So just sleep, and I’ll see you in the morning. Hanging up now.”

—Wait, sleep—?!

Kang I-won hung up without hesitation. Heo Do-gyeong called back several times, but Kang I-won declined every one. Worry was one thing, but what was the point of staying up all night over it? He figured Heo Do-gyeong would give up and go to bed eventually.

But when Kang I-won got home — and even when he picked up the thing he’d planned to do before the accident — the calls still came nonstop.

Sighing heavily, he placed the object in his hand on the table and finally answered.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

—How could I possibly sleep right now?!

“…What’s stopping you now?”

—How the hell am I supposed to sleep after seeing that?! Damn it… Kang I-won Esper, maybe you don’t get it because you didn’t see it… Shit. I, I really thought this time…

“…Guide Heo Do-gyeong?”

His voice was trembling. Kang I-won, startled, called to him gently, but only silence followed.

“Heo Do—Heo Do-gyeong Guide? Hello?”

—…

Flustered, Kang I-won kept calling him, but there was still no reply.

“Whatever it is, I’m sorry, okay?”

—Don’t lie. Do you even know what you did wrong?

Heo Do-gyeong snapped, his voice low and sharp, yet still laced with that raw emotion.

“Uh…”

Kang I-won was at a loss for words.

He knew Heo Do-gyeong didn’t like it when he threw himself in harm’s way for him. But this time, Heo Do-gyeong’s life had genuinely been in danger. He’d saved him — shouldn’t that merit at least some gratitude before any scolding? Kang I-won’s expression soured a little.

Sighing deeply, Heo Do-gyeong continued.

—I really thought you were dead this time. Your head was practically gone, and the regeneration wouldn’t kick in. And when it finally did, you still wouldn’t wake up, no matter how much guiding I tried. The Team Leader said you’d be fine, but how could I believe that? I was terrified I’d wake up to your death notice… I couldn’t sleep.

Kang I-won doesn’t die. His ability still wouldn’t let him. Not yet.

Still, if Heo Do-gyeong had been that shaken, then his condition must’ve been worse than he’d thought. He felt a twinge of guilt for having let Heo Do-gyeong see him like that.

His voice softened.

“You’ve seen for yourself that I’m fine now, so get some sleep. It’s really late.”

—Tell me your address.

“…What?”

—Give me your address. I won’t be able to sleep until I see you’re fine.

Kang I-won hesitated, confused.

“What do you need my address for…?”

—So I can see you with my own eyes, obviously. Hurry up and tell me.

“Wouldn’t it be better to use that time to just sleep?”

—I can’t sleep. Unless you’re trying to keep me awake all night, just give me the damn address.

“What about a video call, then?”

—Address.

“…District H, Block K…”

Relentless as ever, Heo Do-gyeong wouldn’t give up. Kang I-won had no choice but to give him the address.

About 15 minutes later, the doorbell rang. Kang I-won answered it to find Heo Do-gyeong in light clothing, as if he’d rushed out without even grabbing a coat. Kang I-won’s eyes widened slightly.

“What the— Why are you dressed like that? It’s still chilly at night.”

Heo Do-gyeong stared hard at him and said,

“You really are fine.”

“I told you I was.”

“Then why did it take you so long to wake up? It’s been hours.”

“Because I hit my head. That kind of injury takes longer to heal.”

Kang I-won tapped his head, avoiding Heo Do-gyeong’s intense gaze.

It wasn’t even a lie. Injuries to the head or heart always took longer to regenerate. Though admittedly, this time had been especially slow. That’s probably why Han Kang-jin had caught on to his condition.

But Heo Do-gyeong wouldn’t know those details. And it didn’t seem like Han Kang-jin had told him either.

Heo Do-gyeong reached out and cupped Kang I-won’s cheek. The unexpected warmth made Kang I-won flinch slightly, but he didn’t pull away. Even though it wasn’t guiding, the familiar warmth of a Guide’s touch helped soothe an Esper’s nerves. His tangled emotions began to settle.

Heo Do-gyeong spoke.

“Why does Kang I-won Esper never listen to me?”

“About what?”

“I told you — I wanted to stay by your side, to protect you. But that didn’t mean I wanted to see you hurt like this. I told you to take care of yourself. Is that so hard?”

“There was no other way this time.”

If he hadn’t stepped in, Heo Do-gyeong would’ve been seriously injured. Just like last time. Why did these near-death moments keep happening?

After a moment’s hesitation, Kang I-won spoke quietly.

“Guide Heo Do-gyeong.”

“What?”

“Have you thought about going back to the Center? Field work seems too dangerous for you.”

This had happened too many times now.

Kang I-won’s ability couldn’t protect others. It was a selfish power — only preserving his own life. And his physical abilities weren’t anything special, either.

So far, luck had allowed him to protect Heo Do-gyeong. But if that luck ran out, and Heo Do-gyeong got hurt — just imagining it was horrifying.

That’s why he wanted Heo Do-gyeong somewhere safe, away from the field.

—No.

“Why not?”

“You already throw yourself into danger like that — how much worse would you get without me around? There’d be no one to stop you. One guy even enjoys it. They’re all insane.”

Even for a temporary assignment, that was a pretty harsh evaluation of his own team.

“If you want to send me back to the Center, then you might as well just—”

With me? Kang I-won tilted his head, staring intently at him. Their eyes met, and for the first time, Heo Do-gyeong was the one to look away.

“…Never mind.”

Kang I-won noticed the faint flush along Heo Do-gyeong’s ear. He blinked, caught off guard. No way…

“Does he like you?”

Choi Soo-bin’s words echoed in his head, followed by a sudden, impulsive question.

“Guide Heo Do-gyeong… do you like me?”

“No?”

Heo Do-gyeong immediately pulled his hand away from Kang I-won’s cheek, face deadpan. The warmth vanished, leaving Kang I-won’s skin cold.

“I don’t.”

Right. Of course not. As expected, Kang I-won nodded, accepting the answer calmly. There was no way.

But Heo Do-gyeong frowned slightly at how easily he accepted it and repeated,

“I said I don’t.”

“Got it.”

“I’m saying it again — I don’t.”

“I got it.”

Kang I-won was genuinely puzzled. He understood the first time — why was Heo Do-gyeong so insistent?

His indifferent tone seemed to irritate Heo Do-gyeong further, who scowled at him.

“What now?”

“…Nothing. Now that I know you’re fine, I’ll head out.”

“It’s late. Stay the night.”

“I’m fine.”

Heo Do-gyeong turned to leave without hesitation, and Kang I-won didn’t try to stop him. Watching him walk away, he simply closed the door.

The faint light that had been streaming in was cut off, leaving the room in complete darkness. Kang I-won returned to his seat and resumed what Heo Do-gyeong had interrupted.

He gripped the handle, rested his arm on the table, and pierced it. It didn’t even make him flinch. He’d gotten used to this. Then, he made sure to inflict a wound of sufficient length — not too large, in case Heo Do-gyeong noticed.

With the blade withdrawn, Kang I-won turned to the timer, staring at it blankly as it counted.

02:27.59…
03:35.88…
04:11.27…

When the wound finally closed, he stopped the timer. In the dark room, the glowing screen of his device seemed particularly bright and clear.

05:47.56

Staring at the time displayed, Kang I-won pressed his hand against his lips. But this time, he couldn’t hold it in.

He couldn’t stop the sound that burst from his mouth.

“Ha! Ha!”

His suspicion had become certainty.

Finally.

A strange sense of liberation spread through his chest.

* * *

A little over two weeks after Kang I-won underwent the ability test, his resonance scan results arrived slightly earlier than expected. Among all the information, one line in particular caught his eye:

[Suspected ability loss. Retesting recommended at the earliest convenience.]

It was the confirmation of what he’d already come to believe. Because of that, he could pretend to be calm.

No—he should correct himself.

Kang I-won wasn’t calm. He was desperately trying to stop the corners of his mouth from turning up. In the end, he had to cover his mouth with his hand.

At seventeen, Kang I-won had feared death. He wanted to live, and in the end, he survived—alone.

But at thirty-one, he was no longer the same.

For years, he had longed for something he had never been allowed.

And now, that longing—what he had wanted so badly—was finally within reach, close enough to grasp.

With unusually light steps, he made his way toward the testing room.

* * *

Kang I-won cut through the tentacles binding Han Kang-jin and pushed forward.

Tentacles lunged at him, but they were engulfed in Hyun Ho-jun’s flames, burning to ash. Dodging the limp, charred limbs, Kang I-won drove his blade into the monster’s quivering body and, without hesitation, slashed through, tearing its outer layer apart.

At the same time, viscous bodily fluid burst forth, dousing him completely. He staggered back in alarm, but by then, his body was already soaked.

The fluid was mildly acidic, and though it worked slowly, it began to eat away at his skin. It stung as if ants were crawling over him, biting into his flesh.

“Tch.”

Clicking his tongue, Kang I-won retreated. Han Kang-jin stepped in front of him, asking,

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

Kang I-won roughly wiped at his eyes as he answered. The fluid had damaged his eyes, blurring his vision. They throbbed as though pierced with needles, making it hard to keep them open.

Thankfully, he’d closed his eyes just in time when the fluid splashed, so the damage was light. They regenerated faster than the rest of his body, but the persistent blur was irritating.

He blinked rapidly, tears streaming from his eyes, the salt stinging more than helping. Roughly, Kang I-won wiped at his tear-soaked cheeks and eyes with the back of his hand.

After a few more blinks, his vision finally cleared. But the rest of his skin, soaked in the acidic fluid, continued to sizzle quietly as it dissolved.

Ignoring the sound, Kang I-won tightened his grip on the hilt.

He finally left the field after Hyun Ho-jun burned down eight of the monster’s ten tentacles.

“When you’ve got crap like that on you, washing it off should be your first priority! Why the hell are you still fighting monsters?!”

Heo Do-gyeong snapped, dousing Kang I-won’s body with bottled water he’d hurriedly bought. The cold stream, fresh from a fridge, hit his skin and made him flinch.

“If it splashes, it’s dangerous — I’ll do it myself.”

“You know it’s dangerous, and you still act like this?!”

Heo Do-gyeong, clearly exasperated, started scolding him again.

“Esper Kang I-won, no matter how many times I tell you, it never sticks. I keep saying to take care of yourself—”

“Yeah. I should.”

“…I’m sorry, what?”

“I said I’ll take care of myself.”

Kang I-won focused on washing off the monster’s fluids, answering absentmindedly. Stripping off his soaked clothes, he rinsed off quickly and wrung them out.

Today’s experience had made it clear. His regeneration time had slowed — if he kept recklessly throwing himself into danger like before, he wouldn’t be able to move when it really counted.

So, to be able to move when it mattered, he had to start doing what Heo Do-gyeong had always said — take care of himself. There was no other choice.

Once the fluids were mostly washed off, the burns on his skin slowly began to heal, looking like uneven blotches, as if he’d been scalded. To hide the sluggish recovery, Kang I-won slipped back into his soaked training jacket.

“You? Take care of yourself? Esper Kang I-won?”

“Yes.”

Heo Do-gyeong gave him a look of disbelief, but at the same time, the corners of his lips tugged up, as if secretly pleased.

Some time passed, and once the monster had been mostly dealt with, Han Kang-jin beckoned Kang I-won over with a flick of his hand. As Kang I-won approached, Han Kang-jin gave him a once-over, assessing his now somewhat stable condition, then asked in a low voice,

“You gonna be okay?”