# Chapter 82
“Are we at Sokcho already?”
Pushing aside his complicated feelings, he focused only on the voice that sounded as gentle as a breeze beside him. Yes, he thought, let’s first stabilize the dungeon and then reconsider thoughts about rings, confessions, or whatever else.
“Yeah, but we’ll need to hike about 2km after getting out of the car.”
The interior was quiet, already emptied of other passengers. Sangjun, the header for this mission, was probably directing the deployment of the outer perimeter by now. After getting off the transport bus and finding his equipment, Dohyuk effortlessly shouldered Junseo’s gear along with his own and followed the group ahead.
“I can carry that.”
“Guides’ equipment is supposed to be carried by Espers. It’s more efficient that way. Even though it’s a short trail, it’s still mountain hiking, so you’ll have enough trouble without carrying anything.”
His tone was calm despite carrying two packs weighing over 30kg each.
“My stamina is good, you know!”
Dohyuk smiled slightly at Junseo’s words. It was like patting a hamster on the head with a finger while humoring it as it proudly showed off a walnut as big as its body.
From the beginning, the physical abilities of combat-type Espers and non-combat ability users couldn’t even be compared. Even sports competitions banned D-class Espers and above due to fairness issues. No matter how strong Junseo was among Guides, to Dohyuk he was like a child left by the water’s edge.
“I could even carry you from here too.”
Since Junseo was insisting on taking his own pack, which was unlike him, Dohyuk responded playfully. Immediately, Junseo’s fair cheeks flushed peach-colored.
“Even so, saying you want to hold me in front of everyone? It’s too embarrassing, but well, if you really want to carry me, hyung…”
“…No, I was just saying. Put your arms down. I’m not going to carry you.”
It seemed like he had never won against Junseo, no matter how he thought about it.
It was fortunate that they had started a bit late, so no one else could hear their current conversation. Dohyuk, who had made a joke only to end up losing face, rubbed the back of his neck and quickened his pace.
Though the autumn leaves were nearly gone, the mountain path was still colorful and scenic. The warm hues were bright enough to soothe the dawn sky. This path had been a famous hiking trail in the peaceful era before dungeons and ability users existed, now faded into history. But now it barely received minimal maintenance, making the trail itself barely visible. Fallen leaves crunched continuously underfoot.
After walking for some time, they could see people moving in perfect coordination in the distance. It seemed that a significant number of ability users had been dispatched from the Chuncheon branch in Gangwon Province; at a glance, there were far more people following Sangjun’s commands and setting up tents than had been on the transport bus.
When Dohyuk joined the assault team that was on standby, Junseo opened his mouth again beside him.
“Come to think of it, the Underground Nation is an S-class dungeon, right?”
“That’s right.”
“But aren’t there fewer people dispatched than for the A-class Forest of Hochwang?”
Junseo’s question was valid. The current personnel dispatched for the Underground Nation Labyrinth dungeon assault team was as follows:
S-class Esper Ji Sangjun
A-class Esper Choi Dohyuk
A-class Esper Seo Jaesik
B-class Esper Kim Minseok
S-class Guide Yu Junseo
A-class Guide Kwon Jihun
In a typical S-class dungeon, there are at least three S-class or higher monsters. This meant that at least two S-class Espers were needed for stabilization. However, the Underground Nation wasn’t classified as S-class because of monsters. This was a labyrinth-type dungeon where they couldn’t establish a single base point and had to continuously move to hunt and stabilize. Although there was only one S-class monster in the dungeon—the Great Thief of the Underground Nation—the complexity and variability of the labyrinth-type dungeon was what earned it its dangerous classification.
Despite Dohyuk’s explanation, Junseo still wore an expression of subtle dissatisfaction. It seemed he was uncomfortable with Dohyuk, whose physical condition hadn’t been great recently, being dispatched to an S-class dungeon with an insufficient team.
Of course, as Junseo worried, the current personnel composition was slightly inadequate for stabilizing an S-class dungeon. It was probably due to the shortage of manpower. Even Seungmin, who was an Esper of the same rank as Dohyuk, had been complaining about being extremely busy and had been moaning about it over the phone just last night. With everyone being stretched so thin, it was a miracle there hadn’t been any Esper rampage incidents yet.
“Don’t worry. Esper Choi Dohyuk specializes in labyrinth-type dungeons.”
Someone interrupted their conversation, apparently having been listening. It was Jihun.
On the day Dohyuk had been unconscious, Jihun had visited the recovery room, but after Dohyuk regained consciousness, he had only checked on him by phone due to the overwhelming guiding work. Finally, as if making up for lost time, today, just before boarding the transport bus in Seoul, Jihun had clung to Dohyuk like a fish in water, spending over 10 minutes thoroughly checking his condition.
Usually, Junseo would display clear signs of discomfort and wariness whenever Jihun approached Dohyuk, but strangely, he had been unusually docile even while Jihun was examining Dohyuk from all angles. Even Jihun, who had been so awkward with Junseo in the Forest of Hochwang, now showed no trace of that tension, instead giving Dohyuk a warm look that said “please take care of him.” Only Dohyuk hadn’t adapted to the changed atmosphere between the two, merely speculating that something must have happened between them on the day he lost consciousness.
Well, according to what Sangjun had hinted, from the moment Dohyuk lost consciousness until he woke up again, Junseo had been pouring guiding energy into him and stuck to him “like a madman” — that was Sangjun’s description. Seeing that, Jihun had likely been moved on his own. Jihun, perhaps because he didn’t have a partner yet, had quite a romantic view about the communion between partners.
“Specializes?”
“No, Guide Kwon Jihun…”
“Esper Choi Dohyuk always shortens the attack time when deployed to labyrinth dungeons, so he’s definitely a specialist.”
“It’s just luck.”
However, objectively speaking, Dohyuk was indeed an Esper specialized in labyrinth-type dungeons, making his humble attitude seem out of place. In fact, even Dohyuk wondered why he could achieve unusually fast results in labyrinth-type dungeons.
Whenever he entered a labyrinth-type dungeon, he would feel déjà vu. It was as if he could see the path. Since it was just an intuition that he couldn’t explain to others, Dohyuk always double-checked, but there had never been a single instance where his initial intuition and the correct answer didn’t align.
It was something he couldn’t understand himself. Seeing the correct path without being able to explain it sounded like strange boasting, so he hadn’t dared to tell others about it. Dohyuk merely ran his hand over his face once.
Watching Dohyuk, Jihun seemed to realize something and made an “ah” sound.
“I thought something looked different—Esper Choi Dohyuk, you’re bare-handed. Don’t you wear gloves anymore?”
He must have noticed Dohyuk’s bare hands. It was natural to be curious, since Dohyuk had always worn black leather gloves when not hunting. Unconsciously, Dohyuk clenched and unclenched his fist, exhaling.
In truth, Dohyuk wore gloves to control his ability. Poison was the most attack-specialized and dangerous attribute among abilities, so he couldn’t afford to be careless.
According to the research facility staff, when they had first succeeded with the experiment, Dohyuk had been extremely unskilled compared to the power he possessed. To make an analogy, he was like a child holding a gun. Perhaps out of concern for Dohyuk, the researchers did various things to instill caution in him, and the most effective tool for training Dohyuk was, naturally, “death.”
‘Dohyuk, look here.’
First, it was a plant. A small seedling with smooth, broad leaves that, thinking back now, was probably a rubber plant species. But its original appearance remains vague in his memory, as it turned black and melted away the moment Dohyuk’s hand touched it.
That memory seemed to be the beginning. Dohyuk developed a fear of physical contact. He felt as if he had become something utterly disgusting. Even at that young age, he might have realized it. That he could never return to how he was before.
Looking kindly at the pale, sickly face of the child, Dr. Jeong said. That voice left a dark red mark on Dohyuk’s chest like a branding.
‘You killed it.’
The stench of decay reached his nostrils. The scent of death. The putrid smell emitted only by those who weren’t alive seemed to cling to him forever, making him shudder at the terrible thought.
In front of the trembling Dohyuk, they next presented a live guinea pig. Clearly an animal that had been selected and kept in a laboratory for medical experiments for a long time, now trembling after being dropped into an unfamiliar environment. It was no different from Dohyuk in any way.
Inhaling sharply and unconsciously taking a step back, the child was still encouraged by that same kind voice. Sharp eyes probed the child’s body like a forged blade.
‘Now, now. It’s for the future. You mustn’t avoid it. You must face it and be careful.’
The child, crying steadily, obeyed the command of the absolute ruler of his small world. The life that crumbled at his fingertips easily became garbage, emitting a foul odor. A gentle voice touched the shoulder of the child who was starting to retch.
‘Remember that you are dangerous.’
