* * *

“As you can see, this gate incident itself seems to be under control. Although the sudden appearance of a large-scale gate threw everything into chaos for about five minutes, the swift response from Esper Elliot brought it under control quickly. Thanks to his ice barrier restraining the creatures, the damage didn’t spread far, and there aren’t many monsters left. Based on our current progress, the gate should close in about ten minutes. However…”

Kim Miri’s face grew somber as she briefed me on the situation, her dark-brown eyes assessing my expression.

“The issue is… what comes next.”

In the course of the clearing operation, an S-rank Esper lost control.

Fortunately, Elliot was still focused on the monsters, showing no sign of targeting other areas, but there was no guarantee he wouldn’t turn on us.

If he started attacking people, what could we do?

Sending in Special Team A would only risk creating another rampaging S-rank.

We didn’t have Jake Powel, who was once an A-rank known to rival S-ranks.

Even if a dozen other A-ranks joined in, there was no assurance they could subdue a berserk S-rank Esper.

So, the team held back, building barriers to buy time rather than risking a direct approach.

We both knew the gravity of the situation, so neither Kim Miri nor I said a word.

“Yang Heewon!”

Our silence was interrupted by a group of field control team members approaching me.

Among them, I recognized a familiar voice—one I’d heard calling out to me over the unbearable noise before.

Kim Miri tried to shield me, but they spoke up first.

“How did you get here? Were you with Esper Elliot?”

“If you were with him, do you know what triggered his rampage? We’re struggling to understand this situation.”

“Aren’t you inactive with Special Team A? Then why did you get involved and turn this into such a mess?”

“You know the situation better than anyone! He knows he’s a ticking time bomb. How could he use his power until he lost control? Is he trying to take us all down with him?”

“Enough!”

Kim Miri’s angry voice broke through the flood of accusatory questions.

Her face was flushed with rage as she addressed the other team members.

“You’ve spoken out of turn in front of Heewon before, and now you’re doing it again? Aren’t you ashamed? What good does it do to say all this to Heewon? Come on, Heewon, don’t listen to them. Let’s go.”

She grabbed my wrist and pulled me away, her strides quick and decisive.

“Always acting so noble… damn it.”

Just as I thought we were safely away, a final harsh jab struck me like a dagger to the chest.

My head spun, but I shook it off, forcing myself to walk on my own, steadying each step.

Only once we reached the rear of the scene, where few people lingered, did Kim Miri finally release my wrist.

“I’m so sorry. It’s the first time they’ve seen an S-rank Esper lose control, so they’re terrified.”

I understand.

Facing an unanticipated disaster that threatens to claim lives can make people desperate to vent their fear and frustration.

But… while I understood that in my head, my chest still felt constricted.

I forced myself to speak.

“I’m fine. More importantly… is the Guide here yet?”

“Yes, but… you saw their reaction, Heewon. I doubt we’ll get any volunteers.”

Of course not. I wasn’t expecting anyone to step up.

Guiding a rampaging Esper is a dangerous task, even for someone skilled.

Sometimes, an Esper lashing out might strike a Guide who approaches with the best of intentions, and the mental assault during a guidance session can become overwhelmingly aggressive.

And Elliot Hopper wasn’t just any Esper—he was an S-rank, infamous for the mental agony he caused during guidance.

Even with the risk of death and the chilling physical pain that came with it, if anyone were willing to guide him, “Yang Heewon” wouldn’t need to be the Special Team A Guide.

Plenty of people likely believed he was “getting what he deserved” and thought he might as well die for his lack of self-control.

I exhaled slowly, closing and then opening my eyes.

“Looks like it has to be me, then.”

Thanking Kim Miri for her answer with a short nod, I turned and looked up.

Snow had started to fall again.

“Wait, Heewon! Don’t go! There’s no point in going.”

“It’s fine. There is a point.”

It might be pointless.

But even if it was, giving up on him wasn’t an option.

For an out-of-control Esper with no Guide, the outcome is one of two things: they’ll exhaust themselves and die from using their abilities nonstop, or they’ll be put down.

In Elliot’s case, exhaustion was the likelier outcome.

And in the process, he would inflict untold damage and draw scorn.

“An S-rank Esper who lost control of his emotions and rampaged like a foolish piece of trash.”

Even knowing this, I couldn’t stand by without at least trying to save him.

I started walking toward where the icy spears glinted.

I had to get there before the barriers closed off the path.

But after only a few steps, someone grabbed my wrist.

“What do you plan to do when you get there? How can you guide an Esper like that? You’ll only end up dead! Besides, you’re a B-rank. Approaching him is suicide!”

“I know. I’m going to try, even if it is.”

“…What?”

The hand holding my wrist loosened in shock at my words.

I pulled free, rubbing my wrist.

Keeping my face as composed as possible, I continued.

“Honestly, I don’t have long to live. The side effects from guiding are too severe—I probably won’t last another three months. I sleep more than I’m awake now. The team doesn’t know, though.”

“Oh…”

Kim Miri’s face paled instantly.

Everyone must have wondered at some point, “How does Yang Heewon, just a B-rank, manage to guide three S-rank Espers?”

Now, she had her answer.

“My God… you’ve been doing this with that kind of condition…”

Her shaken gaze looked genuinely concerned for me.

Even though this person had once held me back and spoken harshly, she was still a good person.

She had just helped me, after all, allowing me to witness Cha Junseong’s feats. It was unforgettable.

I smiled, lifting the corners of my mouth.

“If I’m going to die anyway, I might as well make my death worthwhile.”

Leaving Kim Miri behind, I resumed walking toward the icy spears.

Each step felt heavy, burdened by the oppressive cold.

As I exhaled, my breath turned into a delicate white mist.

“It’s… freezing…”

If I’d known it’d be like this, I would’ve chosen a warmer coat.

I pulled my collar up, rubbing my cold lips.

Then, I felt a presence behind me, and something settled on my shoulders.

It was a jacket from one of the field control team members.

Turning, I saw Kim Miri standing a few steps back, gazing at me with sorrowful eyes.

As soon as our eyes met, she quickly looked away.

“It’s just… I’m not a Guide… So… I thought…”

“This is all I can do, I suppose.”

Just that thought alone was enough.

Even if he were a guide, I can’t deny that my own life is the most important thing to me.

—Boom.

The ground shook again.

Pieces of ice, shattered off from the massive spear Elliot created, scattered everywhere like hail.

I put my arms through the jacket and pulled on the hood, bracing against the falling ice rain.

Thanks to the jacket’s temperature-retaining function, I quickly felt warm.

Brushing off the ice, I smiled gently at Kim Mi-ri, who looked like she was about to cry.

“Thank you.”

How strange. Something so simple could warm my heart like this.

Because of moments like this, I just can’t bring myself to hate the world of “The Genius Guide’s Melancholy” .

---

The gate had closed.

It was Elliot’s overwhelming power that had won this fight.

All the monsters that had crossed from the gate into this world lay scattered, pierced by sharp ice spears.

Some were even trapped in huge blocks of ice.

It was a grotesque sight.

Not long ago, this was an ordinary city center, but now it was filled with a multitude of defeated monsters, all vanquished by a single esper.

The frozen beasts, caught mid-death, looked like trophies commemorating his victory.

The sudden gate crisis was over, yet the loud evacuation sirens from the Bureau of Management had not ceased.

People must be wondering by now.

“The enormous gate that covered the sky disappeared so quickly—why are we still being told to evacuate?”

—Ah, ah. Ahh….

And while I was the one who cleared the gate by myself, I was now also facing another “disaster” that had triggered the evacuation sirens.

* * *