He opened his eyes and found himself in Gangwon Province.
Hee-young let out a hollow laugh at the absurdity of it all. Seriously, does this make any sense?
Hee-young had been transported in an instant to the middle of a mountain, and now sat slumped on a wide, low rock, staring at the massive Dungeon entrance rippling ominously in shades of blue. In front of the entrance, people moved about busily.
He could see people gathering emergency rations and weapons to use inside the Dungeon, and Shin-yul checking over the general situation. Every time Shin-yul’s eyes met Hee-young’s — who was staring blankly at the crowd, mentally exhausted from the shock of the sudden teleportation portal — Shin-yul shot him a sly wink. Hee-young had no energy left to be disgusted, so he just turned his head away and closed his eyes.
Strangely enough, now that the Dungeon was right in front of him, his mind had grown calm. Hee-young felt the weight of the knife in his sling bag and steadied himself once more. But unlike the solemn Hee-young, the Guides gathered around him in a cluster all wore bright, easy expressions. This Dungeon hadn’t produced a single casualty in the last several years, and on top of that, an S-rank Pair had been added to the existing team — there was simply no safer situation than this.
That was precisely why Ha-ram had also decided to commit to the classes with Hee-young here — though Hee-young had no idea, and stared at Ha-ram leisurely flipping through teaching materials like he was looking at a madman. Once Ha-ram finished sorting through the materials, he turned to look after Hee-young and pointed toward the final preparations being made.
“See that? The device that staff member is holding determines the Dungeon’s danger grade. Even with 1,178 monsters inside, the fact that the Dungeon entrance shows a blue hue, and that the energy density reads low when checked — those are how we know the danger level is low. Of course, when a Dungeon opens for the first time and its interior is unknown, an S-rank or A-rank leads a team inside to explore, or if possible, closes the Dungeon immediately. Korea doesn’t see Dungeons open all that frequently, and the rate of Esper manifestation is high relative to how often Dungeons appear, so things tend to be handled quite safely.”
“…It’s a lot to take in.”
“Isn’t it? You can learn it slowly, no rush. For reference — the more red the entrance glows, the more dangerous the Dungeon. This one is a deep blue, see? The gate opens periodically, and complete elimination is difficult, but the danger level is very low, so please don’t worry too much.”
Ha-ram smiled gently and soothed Hee-young’s anxious heart. To be honest, even with just Hee-young and Shin-yul alone, clearing a 1,178 Dungeon would be entirely possible. That was the magnitude of an S-rank’s power. However, factoring in that this was Hee-young’s first Dungeon, that his mental state was unstable, and Ha-ram’s firm insistence that Hee-young — who had absolutely no base knowledge — could not be shown an abnormal raid team, they ended up with a team that was the original members plus an S-rank Pair addition, making it a severely overstaffed unit.
Hee-young listened to Ha-ram’s explanation and gripped his bag strap tightly. Low danger or not — that was no reassurance to Hee-young whatsoever. This was still the moment he would come face to face with monsters for the very first time in his life, and he had never lived a life protected by anyone else. He had always handled every danger that came at him with his own hands. His mind knew there was no need to fight the monsters directly, but his pounding heart raced like it was moments before ambushing enemy territory.
“We are entering the Dungeon!”
At the resounding call, the Guides gathered together in a cluster, and the Espers fell in ahead of and behind them, centered around the Guides. One protection-type Esper said lightly,
“Ah — this is basically a field trip, honestly. Everyone packed their lunch, right?”
His cheerful words made everyone — without exception — burst into laughter. The only ones who didn’t laugh were the still-solemn Hee-young, and Shin-yul, who was watching him from a distance.
***
We’re screwed.
Hee-young gasped for breath and sank to the ground once again. Before he could even encounter a single monster, his goddamn body was the problem.
“What should we do. Should we rest a little longer?”
When Ha-ram looked at Hee-young and asked, Hee-young gritted his teeth and shook his head. Then he staggered back to his feet.
Upon entering the Dungeon, Hee-young had felt slightly deflated to find the environment no different from outside. Both outside and inside the Dungeon took the form of a dense forest. The trees, however, were incomprehensibly tall and massive, and even ordinary grass grew well above the height of an adult man. It felt like arriving in a land of giants.
Fortunately, the A-rank Esper who had been the original team leader and knew this Dungeon well guided them along the most walkable path, so the vast forest terrain wasn’t much of a problem in itself — but the truly serious problem was Hee-young’s stamina. While everyone else was carrying their share of necessary supplies, Hee-young had only his small bag on his back, and yet his stamina ran out in a mere thirty minutes. Even with several rest stops it hadn’t recovered at all, and the marching pace had slowed dramatically as a result — leaving the group still short of even the first base camp.
The team members weren’t particularly worried about the slowed march itself. What was there to worry about? Han Shin-yul was here. They had no doubt whatsoever that once they reached the first base camp, dropped off their equipment, and swept through for a single day, they’d be able to clear roughly a third of the monsters.
What was more concerning was that while it was typical for a Pair Esper to step forward and carry or assist their Guide when the Guide was struggling this much, Shin-yul was simply leaving Hee-young alone — even as he was on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion.
As the team leader, Shin-yul walked at the very front leading the group, while Hee-young walked in the middle of the formation for protection — and between them, there was only silence. Shin-yul’s only concessions were small ones: slowing his pace or stopping altogether whenever Hee-young struggled.
Since it was a matter between Pairs, others were too cautious to intervene, and so the team members simply kept watching nervously, caught between Hee-young staggering along and Shin-yul silently watching from afar.
Shin-yul focused all of his senses on Hee-young as he took each step forward. For some reason, his beloved Guide had been ignoring him all day long. Since entering the Dungeon, he hadn’t even tried to meet Shin-yul’s eyes. Seeing that, Shin-yul had been leaving Hee-young alone in an attempt to understand the reason — but even as Hee-young broke out in a heavy sweat and staggered, unable to keep his body upright, he still didn’t call for him.
Hee-young wasn’t a particularly stubborn person. Rough around the edges as he was, he was actually the type to go along with Shin-yul when he threw a fit. He got angry fast, but forgot fast too — and even when he blew up at someone, if the other person apologized or it turned out to be a misunderstanding on his part, he was the cool-headed type who wouldn’t drag it out. Someone who pretended not to care but had a deep warmth, someone with a wide streak of nosiness, someone who didn’t break or run even in difficult situations — my lovable Guide.
Then why was he avoiding him right now? If it was fear of the Dungeon, he should have clung closer to Shin-yul — not turned away, which made no sense. And if he were angry at Shin-yul, he’d curse him out and pick a fight before he’d ever avoid him.
Shin-yul tuned in with sharp precision to Hee-young’s light footsteps among all the shuffling sounds around him, and used his ability to catch him each time he was about to trip. Every time Hee-young staggered, Shin-yul wanted to run to him — but he bit down and held back. Shin-yul wanted to know everything about Hee-young. Every time Hee-young showed him a new side of himself, his possessiveness surged. There could be no part of Hee-young that he didn’t know.
Hee-young walked on in a near-delirious state, moving almost purely on autopilot. It reminded him of army marches from long ago — those days when he’d been so sleep-deprived he’d dozed off mid-step. He simply swung his legs and moved forward. He almost reached for Shin-yul without thinking, but caught himself and shook it off.
There’s nothing more chaotic and ugly than a gang fight. There’s no such thing as a clean fight. It was always a brawl. Friend and foe indistinguishable, every kind of weapon flying through the air. Trusting someone else with your life in the middle of that chaos? There was nothing more foolish.
In his younger days, not knowing that, he’d been caught by a stray blade and betrayed by people he trusted. After that, Hee-young had made an absolute rule: in a crisis, never trust anyone else. That was how he had survived.
He knew it clearly. An Esper’s ability was beyond the beyond. He’d had it drilled into his ears — that the great Espers would take care of all the monsters, so all Hee-young needed to do was look after Shin-yul. But Hee-young, who had rolled through the mud of life, found nothing more unsettling than trusting his life to someone else.
That was why Hee-young was trying not to be conscious of Shin-yul. Human beings — how weak and fickle they are. Among all the great Espers, the greatest of them all, the existence known as his Pair kept making him go soft. He wanted to lean on him, wanted him to solve everything. This was a frightening encounter with monsters — of course it was only natural to seek a place of refuge.
But he couldn’t let that happen. An ordinary person like him would be torn apart before he could even throw a single punch at a monster. The very fact that he could trust Shin-yul, let his guard down, and die a pointless death was what unsettled him and kept him tense. He consciously kept his eyes away from Shin-yul.
After a long and grueling journey, they finally arrived at a place where a wide, flat clearing stretched out in a circle. The team moved in swift unison, pitching tents and organizing equipment. Hee-young staggered over to a spot not too far from the others and sat down leaning against a tree. Sighs kept escaping him, and he felt utterly hopeless looking ahead. What on earth was he supposed to do with a body that couldn’t even walk for long? His exhausted body made even the single knife in his bag feel like a burden. It was crushing.
“Princess, was it hard? You could’ve asked me to carry you. Why didn’t you?”
Shin-yul walked over to Hee-young and gently wiped the beads of sweat dotting his forehead with his own hand as he asked. His voice was soft, but his eyes, filled with a clingy, sticky obsession, swept slowly over all of Hee-young.
“Did my legs break…. What would be the point….”
“I can carry the princess. Hmm? Why didn’t you ask to be carried — and why wouldn’t you even look at me? Are you upset with me about something?”
“Shut up and go. Ajeossi’s tired and trying to rest….”
“…….”
Shin-yul looked down at Hee-young for a moment — Hee-young who wouldn’t even meet his eyes and only kept pushing him away. Then Shin-yul slowly stroked Hee-young’s soft cheek, brought his face in close as if about to touch, and whispered.
“Princess, give me a kiss.”
“…? What are you talking about. We haven’t even caught any monsters yet.”
Hee-young voiced his confusion, and Shin-yul gave an ah, nodding his head. His golden eyes flashed for just an instant.
SCREEEEE—!
THUD—!
A split second later, a deafening shriek tore through the air nearby. Everyone’s faces twisted in shock. Shin-yul turned to Hee-young, who was wearing a startled expression, and smiled brightly.
“Now give me a kiss.”
Is he insane?
