* * *
He must’ve been dragged out of bed without warning.
“Hey, Kim Sungchan. Treat this flying squirrel for me. He’s got a fever.”
“What—who the hell is a flying squir—wait, a fever?!”
“Yeah. Squirrel’s looking a little delirious.”
Finally snapping to attention, Sungchan quickly assessed Go Yeonwoo in Kiwoo’s arms.
He’d been too disoriented after being kidnapped mid-sleep, but now it clicked.
Of course these S-class bastards would notice.
He’d seen how Park Jaerim and Seok Kiwoo had been clinging to Yeonwoo earlier—at the gate, during reconnaissance.
Even with his guiding energy suppressed, they’d fixated on him.
Typical S-class sensitivity.
He’d thought they hadn’t caught on to anything deeper, but seeing them corner Yeonwoo again made him uneasy.
Anyone paying attention could tell Yeonwoo wasn’t doing well.
Of course high-class Espers like these two would notice.
Sungchan realized they must’ve dragged him here because Yeonwoo’s condition had worsened.
He demanded to be put down, and Jaerim complied without protest.
Sungchan immediately approached Yeonwoo, still cradled in Kiwoo’s arms.
His breathing was ragged, his state visibly worse than before.
And then—
Wait. That’s not just pain.
There’s something else…
A strange, heated aura clung to him.
Did those bastards from Team 1 do something to him?
No, seeing how Kiwoo and Jaerim had been all over him, it was no wonder he was pissed.
They must’ve taken him for guiding. Figures.
Just as Sungchan reached out toward Yeonwoo’s flushed face—
CRACK!
“Agh, what the hell?!”
The ground beneath them split open.
A massive earthquake, without warning, sent tremors through the campsite nearby.
Jaerim and Kiwoo dodged the collapsing earth, but it was futile.
Something yanked their ankles, dragging them into the fissure.
“Damn it! What the—?!”
Jaerim scowled.
Even alternating their abilities did nothing—like some cruel prankster was pulling them under.
“Hey—no, the squirrel! Kiwoo, throw him to me, now!”
As the two S-class Espers were helplessly dragged underground, Sungchan shouted desperately.
Even without combat skills, Sungchan was still an Esper.
He could easily catch Yeonwoo if Kiwoo threw him.
He waited, expecting Kiwoo to comply—
But Kiwoo, still calm despite being dragged under, tilted his head.
Not toward Sungchan.
Toward the guide in his arms.
“Hey! Kiwoo, you bastard! Give him here!”
Sungchan lunged, but it was too late.
THUD.
The earth sealed shut above them.
“…Well. I’m fucked.”
Standing alone on the closed fissure, Sungchan muttered hollowly.
“See anything?”
“Nah. Just walls.”
Park Jaerim, Seok Kiwoo, and Go Yeonwoo, still in Kiwoo’s arms, were now lost in some pitch-black underground passage.
Jaerim lightly punched the wall ahead.
BOOM.
A deafening sound echoed, but the wall remained unmarked.
No physical force worked on it.
“Huh. Guess brute strength’s useless here.”
Kiwoo stepped past Jaerim, scanning the narrow tunnel.
It was just wide enough for two or three adults, with walls stretching endlessly upward.
A strange smell lingered—dry, metallic, mixed with scorching air.
This tunnel definitely led somewhere, likely a vast space.
As Kiwoo moved forward, he felt a tug on his collar.
He looked down.
A pair of sharp, upturned eyes—usually round and gentle—glared up at him.
The contrast was so absurdly harmonious that Kiwoo’s lips twitched.
He couldn’t help but smile.
Even in this messed-up situation.
“What, rabbit?”
“Are you just ignoring me telling you to put me down?”
“You can barely walk. And your fever’s worse.”
“Yeah, flying squirrel. Just stay put. You’ll collapse again.”
“I said I’m fine.”
Yeonwoo twisted irritably in Kiwoo’s hold, but it was useless.
Kiwoo’s body was like solid rock—unyielding, immovable.
Trapped inside a boulder and unable to move, Go Yeonwoo let out an irritated sigh.
“You’d feel better if you just gave up, squirrel.”
Beside him, Park Jaerim chuckled softly before placing a hand on Yeonwoo’s head, giving it a light pat.
Yeonwoo immediately swatted his hand away, but Jaerim didn’t seem bothered at all.
Instead, he stared at him with the amused gaze of someone watching a small animal throw a tantrum.
“……Enough. Stop calling me by some animal’s name. It’s annoying.”
Yeonwoo slumped in resignation, muttering weakly. Jaerim’s lips curled up in a teasing smirk.
“Then just tell me your name.”
“It’s Yoo Eun-seong.”
The answer didn’t come from Yeonwoo but from Seok Kiwoo.
Jaerim glanced at Kiwoo for a moment before dramatically pouting.
“What? Hey, squirrel. How come you only told Kiwoo your name while I was gone, huh? I’m seriously hurt.”
“Hurt my ass.”
Yeonwoo sharply turned his head away.
Jaerim let out a soft laugh at his fierce resistance before leaning in close, his lips nearly brushing Yeonwoo’s ear.
“Fine. Yoo Eun-seong.”
Jaerim’s eyes crinkled as he watched Yeonwoo stubbornly keep his face turned away.
The way his round ears twitched instead of answering was unbearably cute.
Flying squirrels really do have pretty ears.
Jaerim straightened up with an inward chuckle.
Banter was fun, but they needed to figure out where they were.
“Hey, let’s keep moving.”
“Yeah.”
Jaerim and Kiwoo resumed walking.
The deeper they went, the hotter the air became.
Humid sandstorms also started blowing more frequently.
They guessed they’d soon exit the passage.
Sure enough, a pale light appeared in the distance, and they quickened their pace.
Stepping out of the passage, they looked up, momentarily stunned.
The sight before them resembled a massive temple made entirely of sand.
Even Yeonwoo, who had been buried in his own frustration, lifted his head to take it in.
The surroundings gave off the eerie atmosphere of an ancient Egyptian temple.
Enormous pillars supported the ceiling, and at the center stood a massive altar.
Around it were four statues resembling grotesque amalgamations of various animals.
Jaerim moved ahead toward the altar.
Its surface, large enough to hold dozens of people, was densely inscribed with hieroglyphics.
As Jaerim slowly scanned the ominous altar, his gaze eventually shifted to Kiwoo, who stood slightly apart.
“Hey, Kiwoo. Doesn’t that thing creep you out? The pillars and statues are all sandy brown, but that altar’s pitch black.”
Kiwoo turned to look at the jet-black altar.
It didn’t resemble a normal altar at all.
In fact…
“Looks just the right size to fit dozens of people, don’t you think?”
Kiwoo nodded at Jaerim’s remark.
He had the same thought—it was unmistakably an altar for human sacrifice.
Then, without warning, mist began swirling around the altar.
As their vision blurred, Jaerim and Kiwoo immediately pressed close together.
Yeonwoo, still cradled in Kiwoo’s arms, held his breath and glanced around warily.
“What now?”
“I’ve got a bad feeling…”
The already gloomy temple was now suffused with an even more sinister energy.
It wouldn’t be surprising if a boss monster appeared any second.
Kiwoo looked down at Yeonwoo in his arms.
If this was indeed a boss room, their current state was far from ideal.
“Should we set it up now?”
“Should’ve done it earlier, brat.”
Their cryptic exchange ended as Kiwoo pulled something out—a fist-sized, opaque blue orb.
Without hesitation, he hurled it as far from the altar as possible.
The moment it hit the ground, a translucent blue hemispherical barrier formed.
The orb was an S-grade item capable of creating a defensive shield.
After placing Yeonwoo inside, Kiwoo stepped out and stood back-to-back with Jaerim, scanning their surroundings.
A heavy silence settled over them—
THUD!
The ground shook again.
The entire temple trembled as if caught in an earthquake.
Jaerim’s eyes snapped upward.
BOOM!
“Kiwoo, above us!”
A massive sand statue—no, a golem-like monster—dropped from the ceiling, crashing down on them.
The temple was instantly engulfed in a blinding sandstorm, so fierce even Yeonwoo inside the barrier struggled to keep his eyes open.
CRASH! BOOM! CRACK!
Squinting, Yeonwoo stared outside the barrier.
* * *
Could we possibly get an update soon? I would love to read the following chapters