* * *
Seo Jaewon shook off that arm and turned to face Joo Youngha.
“You…”
But what could he even say?
Do you really not know anything?
Are you seriously saying nothing happened?
He couldn’t make sense of Joo Youngha’s calm expression.
Those eyes, that gentle voice—it didn’t feel human.
No, it didn’t even feel like a living creature with body heat…
Just as the ground beneath his feet seemed about to give out from sheer helplessness, Hwi Saul’s voice cut through.
“Well, Jaewon doesn’t need to worry. Youngha will take care of him.”
At the sound of his voice, Seo Jaewon snapped back to his senses.
“…What?”
“Yeah, I mean, of course Sir Joo Youngha will take good care of you.”
Even Hwi Sara’s response was indifferent.
Right, these people really don’t know anything.
But still… does that make this okay?
“No, what’s the point in just saving me? We’re a team…”
“If Youngha’s even bothering to look after you, that’s already a win. Up to now, he didn’t give a damn about anyone.”
That was true. Joo Youngha didn’t care about other people.
Even towards Seo Jaewon—arguably the one he was closest to—his attitude could be described as cold, maybe even indifferent.
To the extent that, when Jaewon once got caught by a writhing slug-tentacle monster, Youngha had just stood there watching.
Didn’t he even say, “This is kind of fun… can I watch a little longer?”
Thankfully, the other team members arrived in time to rescue him.
Of course, back when he was still an Esper, Seo Jaewon hadn’t been someone weak enough to need protecting.
Youngha must’ve known that, too.
Anyway, compared to how uncooperative he used to be… maybe this is a bit of an improvement?
While Jaewon was still lost in confusion, Youngha spoke casually from behind him.
“Jaewon’s a fragile Guide now… so I’ll protect you.”
As he said that, he leaned into Seo Jaewon again.
He even started gently brushing the inside of Jaewon’s wrist with his thumb.
He acted like he’d spent his whole life being this sweet, like there wasn’t a shred of contradiction in his words.
The sheer shamelessness of it made Jaewon grit his teeth involuntarily.
“…I’m telling you nicely. Walk on your own, Joo Youngha.”
Jaewon forcibly pushed him off and started walking again.
And with that, the exploration resumed.
Luckily, the way upward wasn’t hard to find.
The structure was nearly identical to Mirae, and thanks to Hwi Saul’s detection abilities, they didn’t have to waste time wandering around.
Following a vine-covered slope, they quickly reached the second floor.
When Jaewon brushed aside a massive leaf blocking his view…
“…Whoa.”
He flinched a little at the sight before him.
Dozens of human-like figures were eerily standing under the shade of trees.
Mannequins.
More precisely, plants twisted together to mimic the shape of mannequins.
They lined the corridor in eerie stillness.
Some even had flowers blooming on them, their vibrant shapes only adding to the unsettling atmosphere.
Hwi Sara stretched out an arm, gently nudging the Guides to stay farther back.
Meanwhile, Hwi Saul reached out and touched a leaf growing from one of the mannequins.
As energy flowed along the veins of the leaf, it trembled slightly.
After a short pause, Hwi Saul gave his assessment.
“They’re just shaped like that. Doesn’t look like they’ll move.”
Seo Jaewon nodded, though he felt a little awkward.
Being the team leader but hanging back like this didn’t sit quite right.
“Then let’s slowly move upward. From here on, Sara noona leads the way.”
Sara had quick reflexes and sharp senses.
Her durability was decent too, making her ideal for the front line.
With Sara at the front, they reformed their formation and began moving forward carefully.
“Ugh, this is disgusting.”
Min Yoomin grimaced and clung to Jaewon’s side.
His combat suit still felt damp against his skin…
Earlier, they’d asked Ji Myunghoon to dry it a bit, but it still smelled like a swamp.
They hadn’t been able to finish properly after one of Yoomin’s sleeves started burning mid-process.
His control was clearly still off.
Jaewon made a mental note to schedule a check-in later.
He had hoped fixing Youngha would be enough, but… this wasn’t kindergarten.
“You’re surprisingly calm, though. I nearly fainted when I saw those mannequins.”
Seo Jaewon shook off that arm and turned to face Joo Youngha.
“You…”
But what could he even say?
Do you really not know anything?
Are you seriously saying nothing happened?
He couldn’t make sense of Joo Youngha’s calm expression.
Those eyes, that gentle voice—it didn’t feel human.
No, it didn’t even feel like a living creature with body heat…
Just as the ground beneath his feet seemed about to give out from sheer helplessness, Hwi Saul’s voice cut through.
“Well, Jaewon doesn’t need to worry. Youngha will take care of him.”
At the sound of his voice, Seo Jaewon snapped back to his senses.
“…What?”
“Yeah, I mean, of course Sir Joo Youngha will take good care of you.”
Even Hwi Sara’s response was indifferent.
Right, these people really don’t know anything.
But still… does that make this okay?
“No, what’s the point in just saving me? We’re a team…”
“If Youngha’s even bothering to look after you, that’s already a win. Up to now, he didn’t give a damn about anyone.”
That was true. Joo Youngha didn’t care about other people.
Even towards Seo Jaewon—arguably the one he was closest to—his attitude could be described as cold, maybe even indifferent.
To the extent that, when Jaewon once got caught by a writhing slug-tentacle monster, Youngha had just stood there watching.
Didn’t he even say, “This is kind of fun… can I watch a little longer?”
Thankfully, the other team members arrived in time to rescue him.
Of course, back when he was still an Esper, Seo Jaewon hadn’t been someone weak enough to need protecting.
Youngha must’ve known that, too.
Anyway, compared to how uncooperative he used to be… maybe this is a bit of an improvement?
While Jaewon was still lost in confusion, Youngha spoke casually from behind him.
“Jaewon’s a fragile Guide now… so I’ll protect you.”
As he said that, he leaned into Seo Jaewon again.
He even started gently brushing the inside of Jaewon’s wrist with his thumb.
He acted like he’d spent his whole life being this sweet, like there wasn’t a shred of contradiction in his words.
The sheer shamelessness of it made Jaewon grit his teeth involuntarily.
“…I’m telling you nicely. Walk on your own, Joo Youngha.”
Jaewon forcibly pushed him off and started walking again.
And with that, the exploration resumed.
Luckily, the way upward wasn’t hard to find.
The structure was nearly identical to Mirae, and thanks to Hwi Saul’s detection abilities, they didn’t have to waste time wandering around.
Following a vine-covered slope, they quickly reached the second floor.
When Jaewon brushed aside a massive leaf blocking his view…
“…Whoa.”
He flinched a little at the sight before him.
Dozens of human-like figures were eerily standing under the shade of trees.
Mannequins.
More precisely, plants twisted together to mimic the shape of mannequins.
They lined the corridor in eerie stillness.
Some even had flowers blooming on them, their vibrant shapes only adding to the unsettling atmosphere.
Hwi Sara stretched out an arm, gently nudging the Guides to stay farther back.
Meanwhile, Hwi Saul reached out and touched a leaf growing from one of the mannequins.
As energy flowed along the veins of the leaf, it trembled slightly.
After a short pause, Hwi Saul gave his assessment.
“They’re just shaped like that. Doesn’t look like they’ll move.”
Seo Jaewon nodded, though he felt a little awkward.
Being the team leader but hanging back like this didn’t sit quite right.
“Then let’s slowly move upward. From here on, Sara noona leads the way.”
Sara had quick reflexes and sharp senses. Her durability was decent too, making her ideal for the front line.
With Sara at the front, they reformed their formation and began moving forward carefully.
“Ugh, this is disgusting.”
Min Yoomin grimaced and clung to Jaewon’s side.
His combat suit still felt damp against his skin…
Earlier, they’d asked Ji Myunghoon to dry it a bit, but it still smelled like a swamp.
They hadn’t been able to finish properly after one of Yoomin’s sleeves started burning mid-process.
His control was clearly still off.
Jaewon made a mental note to schedule a check-in later.
He had hoped fixing Youngha would be enough, but… this wasn’t kindergarten.
“You’re surprisingly calm, though. I nearly fainted when I saw those mannequins.”
Min Yoomin was a year younger than Seo Jaewon.
Normally, that would make them practically the same age—but because time had forcibly intervened on his end, Min Yoomin now felt distinctly younger.
Back in their past life, Min Yoomin had already been a seasoned veteran guide, unfazed by situations like this.
He hadn’t been blonde back then either, so at first, Jaewon had nearly failed to recognize him.
“I’m actually really shocked on the inside.”
Jaewon lied smoothly.
In truth, he wasn’t shocked in the slightest. If anything, he was sick of it.
He’d cleared so many dungeons—even counting just this life, never mind the last—that keeping track was meaningless.
No matter how terrifying something is, if you deal with it every single day, you eventually go numb.
And he didn’t have the luxury to be surprised by every little thing.
“Still, you were amazing. You even helped out earlier… I guess it’s because you used to be an Esper? Oh—can I call you hyung?”
“Uh…”
Jaewon hesitated, unsure of how to respond to the sudden leap in familiarity.
Already? We’re going there already?
In our past life, he never got past calling me Seo Jaewon.
Apparently, saving him earlier had created a huge surge of emotional closeness for Yoomin.
Even though Jaewon hadn’t said yes, Min Yoomin bulldozed ahead like someone who had no intention of accepting a no.
“Can I message you on CocoaTalk? I already added your number earlier. If I have questions while I’m guiding, I want to ask you anytime! Though I feel like you’re gonna surpass me in no time anyway!”
“I doubt it. You’re a very versatile and efficient guide.”
“Whoa… Did you look me up?”
“It was in your profile file.”
“If it were me, I wouldn’t even have looked! I’d just come and ask. I mean, I’m meeting you in person anyway.”
“I needed to know. I’m the team leader.”
“That’s… really cool…”
Min Yoomin looked up at him with wide, shining eyes—he was definitely inching closer.
“How do you do it? I’m overwhelmed just doing daily guiding. I don’t have the energy to study or research on top of that! What’s your MBTI? Wait—don’t tell me. Let me guess. Um…”
“Uh… sure…”
Jaewon was already struggling just to keep up with the flood of words.
What were they even talking about now?
Was Min Yoomin always like this?
Jaewon, whose social skills had been thoroughly ground down by years of public scrutiny and endless failures, was completely outmatched by Yoomin’s energy.
The Min Yoomin in his thirties had been nothing like this.
He’d seemed calmer, more thoughtful… definitely not this talkative.
As the chatter showed no signs of stopping, Jaewon finally gave up on replying at all, letting the words wash over him like white noise.
Yoomin didn’t seem to mind.
If anything, he looked happy to have someone to talk to.
But what really bothered Jaewon was the constant stare coming from behind him—Joo Youngha.
Sure, he was being quiet just like Jaewon wanted, but the silence was unsettling in itself.
From experience, Jaewon knew this kind of situation needed to be monitored.
When people like Youngha snap, it’s never for reasons a sane person could predict.
They go on strike at critical moments, or worse—do something no one could’ve imagined.
And yet, Jaewon couldn’t bring himself to check on him.
More precisely—he didn’t trust himself to.
Even just talking to him might make Jaewon snap and lash out.
That wouldn’t be fair to Joo Youngha.
He must’ve told himself that a hundred times: Youngha hadn’t actually done anything yet.
‘I know. I know, but…’
Still, the rage bubbling in his gut couldn’t be helped.
Anyone would turn a little petty after stewing in something this long.
‘Keep it together, Seo Jaewon.’
This was going to be a long game.
Lose your cool, and you lose everything.
He had to keep emotional distance and monitor with cold, unblinking eyes.
Jaewon rolled up his sleeve, revealing his wrist.
The familiar round black object was right there—an Esper watch.
Its screen flashed with colorful vital stats and biometric data.
“Wait, isn’t that an Esper watch?”
Yoomin, unable to contain his curiosity, jumped in immediately.
“Did you use that when you were an Esper? You don’t have to return it? I wanted one, but they never gave me one.”
God, my ears are ringing.
Jaewon subtly took a step away before answering.
“It’s Joo Youngha’s.”
“Huh?”
Yoomin’s eyes flickered with confusion.
“Don’t Esper watches display all your personal info?”
“They do. GPS logs, calorie intake and output for the day—everything.”
“Then why do you have his Esper watch…?”
“Because I need to monitor him, obviously.”
Jaewon replied without even glancing at the watch.
Of course, usually an Esper wears their own watch.
It exists so they can track their vitals and location.
It’s for them to manage their own body, and share with a guide or doctor only when needed.
Beyond its functions, the watch stores intensely personal data—it’s not something you casually show someone else.
Like how you wouldn’t want your smartwatch data made public—it’s a privacy issue.
Technically, the Dungeon Management Bureau collects all this data after dungeon runs anyway,
but still, many Espers hate that.
Knowing this well, Yoomin looked shocked.
“Isn’t that… a huge invasion of privacy?”
Jaewon replied, perfectly calm.
“Joo Youngha doesn’t care about things like that. I’m his guide.”
* * *
