* * *
“There are no other urgent patients at the center. Good work, Dasom Esper.”
“Yes, understood.”
The center’s medical officer in charge spoke to Dasom in a gentle tone.
It was rare for an Esper to sustain major injuries, but the gate was a place where anything could happen.
In fact, sometimes an Esper’s powerful healing ability could be more of a hindrance than a help.
The Esper Dasom had just treated had a leg twisted in a grotesque direction.
Thanks to the Esper’s own potent regenerative power, the leg had started to heal while still twisted—making things worse.
Other medics weren’t skilled enough to correct the leg’s position before applying a heal.
But with Dasom’s healing, that wasn’t necessary.
It was like turning back time—the leg was restored in an instant.
That’s why the abilities of an S-class healer were so highly praised.
Even Raon’s S-class guiding wouldn’t have been enough to fix a leg like that.
“Well done, Esper Dasom. Now go get something to eat and take a rest.”
“Yes, Team Leader!”
Raon, who had been watching, gently encouraged Dasom and started walking.
Naturally, Siwoo stuck by Raon’s side.
Dasom walked shoulder to shoulder with Jamie, following the two ahead.
It looked like they’d head to the cafeteria for a meal before returning to the training grounds.
The Guide Team would probably show up at the cafeteria too.
Raon’s steps naturally grew lighter at the thought.
“Hm?”
But something was off inside the center.
Raon furrowed his dark eyebrows.
Most of the personnel were out on missions, except for the special team.
Even with Irregular Gates popping up, the regular gates had resumed activity after their rest cycles ended.
So during this time, it was rare to see any non-special team Espers around the center.
Raon vaguely recalled hearing that some high-classing Espers had just finished suppressing a Red Gate and were taking a short break.
But aside from them, everyone was likely off handling their assignments.
Raon didn’t care either way—he wasn’t interested in the affairs of other teams.
Still, he found it odd that so many people were gathered in the central lobby.
He had to pass through to get to the cafeteria, so even though he was annoyed, he didn’t stop walking.
“What’s going on?”
“Oh, Team Leader Raon.”
He approached a center staff member nearby and asked.
Since they had exchanged greetings before, it was easy to strike up conversation.
The staff member recognized Raon and happily answered.
“Well, the Commander-in-Chief—or rather, the Chairman of the Ability Association—is here.”
“Ah.”
“The Director couldn’t just sit in his office and wait, so he came down to the lobby to greet him personally.”
“I see.”
Raon nodded half-heartedly at the staff member’s low-voiced explanation.
That explained the commotion in the lobby.
Raon casually scanned the crowd filling the space.
He couldn’t see clearly through the mass of people, but likely somewhere in there, Seokhyeon and the Chairman were shaking hands.
Reporters were swarming around them, flashing cameras nonstop.
Even from a distance, the flashes caught Raon’s eye.
“Rough day, huh.”
Raon muttered inwardly.
He felt a pang of sympathy for Seokhyeon, who had to deal with the Chairman, but it wasn’t his problem.
What was annoying, though, was that the crowd was blocking his way to the cafeteria.
Why the Chairman had to show up now, during lunchtime of all times, was beyond him.
“Oh? Isn’t that Han Raon?”
“What? Team Leader Raon?!”
“…!”
But there was one thing Raon had overlooked—ever since the suppression of the Violet Gate and the subsequent interview, public attention had turned sharply toward him.
Reporters, ever attuned to public interest, lit up like wolves spotting prey the moment they recognized him.
“Hello, Team Leader! I’m Lee Mi-young from YBN News!”
“Team Leader Han Raon, just a quick statement please!”
“Team Leader!”
In an instant, reporters swarmed around Raon.
Siwoo pulled Raon close and shielded him with his arm, so they couldn’t get too close—but the desperate eyes and eager gestures of the reporters were impossible to ignore.
Raon blinked in surprise.
His tongue, usually quick and smooth, suddenly stiffened.
Even he hadn’t expected this situation.
Normally, the center strictly limited access to outsiders, so no one could approach this freely.
But today, the reporters had been invited to publicize the Chairman’s visit—and this chaos was the result.
“Team Leader Raon!”
Just then, Seokhyeon spotted Raon.
At his command, the guards stepped in and cleared away the reporters clinging to Raon.
Only then could Raon approach Seokhyeon.
“Apologies. The Chairman said he was coming on short notice—there wasn’t time to give you a heads-up.”
“Haa… it’s fine. Really.”
Seokhyeon apologized in a low voice, and Raon shook his head.
He was more embarrassed about letting his flustered reaction show.
Even before the regression, Raon had received a lot of public attention—but for the opposite reasons.
Back then, people mocked him as an incompetent with nothing but ambition.
The reporters weren’t looking for interviews in good faith—they were digging for dirt.
So Raon had developed a reflexive fear of them.
He should’ve been over it by now, but habits are hard to break.
He awkwardly laughed and wiped the sweat from the back of his neck.
“Hyung, let’s just go back.”
“What?”
“You’re uncomfortable, right?”
Siwoo’s voice was full of concern, as if he could see right through Raon’s thoughts.
If it were Siwoo, he could easily pull Raon out of this chaos in a flash.
But Seokhyeon’s presence here also meant the Chairman had to be nearby.
Just as that thought passed through Raon’s mind, a man surrounded by a swarm of people began to approach him.
“Well, if it isn’t Team Leader Han Raon.”
“Ah, hello, Chairman.”
Raon bowed to the smiling man approaching him.
The middle-aged man with streaks of gray in his hair beamed at him.
Park Junghoo—Commander-in-Chief of the military and Chairman of the Ability Association.
Raon stared at him with thinly veiled discomfort.
“You useless bastard. Get out of my sight—now.”
That was the last thing the Chairman had shouted at him before Raon’s regression.
It had been right after the Guide Team was decimated, leaving only Raon and Hamin as the remaining high-level guides.
Even then, Hamin was only B-class, and his guiding ability worked only on Dojin.
The Chairman had hated Raon with a vengeance during that operation, blaming him for every setback, yet couldn’t remove him from the special team—because there were no other high-classing guides left.
The Guide Center had collapsed, and the Chairman had reluctantly taken on direct command.
That furious face, distorted by stress, had burned itself into Raon’s memory.
So seeing the same Chairman now acting so warmly toward him—it was surreal.
Raon forced a polite smile.
“Haha, you’re more mild-mannered than I expected. No need to be so tense—I don’t bite.”
“Yes, sir.”
The Chairman lightly patted Raon’s shoulder with a calm, kind voice.
Raon gave a small nod in return.
In the end, that was all in the past now.
No need to dwell on it.
Since returning, nearly everyone’s attitude toward him had changed.
So of course, the Chairman’s would too.
Thinking that way made it easier for Raon to deal with him.
“It seems I’ve caused trouble for everyone by showing up so suddenly.”
“No, not at all.”
Raon almost replied, “Yes, you did,” but for the sake of smooth social interactions, he forced himself to shake his head.
The Association President’s smile deepened.
“You’ve done something quite significant this time, so I stopped by to offer some encouragement. Don’t worry too much and carry on with your work.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Especially, I’d love to have a meal with our Team Leader Han Raon sometime. I’m sure you’re busy, but do you think you could make some time?”
“Of course.”
“Haha, you’re a refreshingly straightforward guy. I like that.”
The President laughed heartily, and the people behind him—presumably his aides—laughed along.
Raon forced a smile to keep up appearances.
It was the bitter reality of corporate life.
Every time the President patted his shoulder, pain shot through Raon’s body.
Apparently, the man had forgotten he used to be an S-class Esper.
Though the President had been demoted to A-class after an injury during a gate suppression mission and had retired from active duty due to age, an Esper was still an Esper.
Even with a one-level drop, he remained a high-classing one.
Raon gritted his teeth to endure the pain.
Tap.
“……!”
At that moment, someone grabbed the President’s arm.
Startled, Raon turned his head—only to see Siwoo’s face, expression ice-cold.
“Hm?”
“Team Leader is in pain. Please stop.”
“W-What did you say?”
The President sounded flustered.
Raon was equally thrown off by Siwoo’s actions.
No matter how much of an S-class Esper Siwoo was or how central he was to the special ops team, the person he just manhandled was the President of the Association.
This was crossing a line.
Raon’s brain spun, trying to figure out how to fix this.
Just then, Siwoo calmly continued.
* * *
