* * *

As Elizabeth Polwel’s personal assistant, my job was to conduct simple research and organize materials, then discuss them with her as her conversational partner.

Most of the data came from Polwel’s internal and external sources without any effort from me.

And lately, my focus had inevitably shifted toward the “protagonist,” so most of my research revolved around Eunsoo.

It felt a bit off to call this a job aligning with my interests, but it wasn’t like I could complain.

When I suggested taking on more arduous tasks, Elizabeth Polwel smiled and said:

“At my age, with my abilities, finding someone like you to talk to isn’t easy. Don’t worry; it’s a choice I made for myself.”

I could understand her perspective.

As a transmigrator, I had no one to truly open up to either.

At least I could blend in and live as an ordinary B-grade guide, Yang Heewoon.

But Elizabeth didn’t have that option.

In the end, I let her persuade me to accept the job.

Maria Polwel, who had been handling this role previously, could’ve been upset about losing her responsibilities.

But instead, she was thrilled.

“This is great for me! Now I can travel—no, go on business trips—without any worries.”

“And take vacations! I can finally date!”

“Do you know what it’s like to have your family be your boss and your home your workplace? It’s draining!”

“Finally, freedom! Liberation!”

And then, proving her sincerity, she disappeared on a week-long vacation right after handing over the job to me.

It felt like she was being considerate, and I couldn’t help but sympathize with how overworked she must have been.

While I struggled a bit at first due to her abrupt departure and some language barriers, I soon got the hang of things.

The translation devices in this world were amazing, after all.

“Huh…?”

Not long after starting work that day, I encountered a puzzling situation.

Photos of Eunsoo crying were spreading everywhere, accompanied by a strange article.

[Seo Shinwoo, infamous for having a 10 billion won bounty on his head, is suspected of murdering and abandoning a B-grade guide, Mr. Yang, sparking widespread outrage.]

As the “B-grade guide” in question, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

At first, I thought it was just baseless gossip, but it didn’t seem like a mere tabloid rumor.

He paused in the middle of sorting through the articles, staring blankly as his thoughts drifted.

What was this?

How did such a rumor even start?

I’ve never met Seo Shinwoo, nor any of his group.

I knew well enough to steer clear—when a guide gets involved with an unregistered esper, especially a radical one, nothing good comes of it.

So I’d taken precautions to avoid crossing paths with them.

I had no idea what could have led to this, but if the world believed the content of that article, it answered one of the lingering doubts I’d been harboring.

“Could it be… that Seo Shinwoo was caught because of me?”

The butterfly effect?

Even though I’ve distanced myself from Eunsoo and have been living as quietly as possible, is my existence still having an impact on the world?

…Could this even be called a “positive impact”?

A chill ran through my body.

“Hey, kid.”

“Yes? Oh, yes!”

“It looks like the situation in South America is escalating. Prioritize sending this out. The materials should arrive soon.”

“Understood. I’ll get on it.”

I quickly turned off the article I had been reading.

Though my body was still cold, and my mouth was dry, I focused all my energy on my work, forcing myself to stay sharp.

---

After finishing my tasks for the day and having dinner, I headed straight to the basement of the mansion.

The basement of the Polwel estate, where I was currently staying, was equipped with almost every facility an esper might need—exercise equipment, entertainment facilities, a swimming pool, a sparring room, and even a simulation training area.

While it was primarily meant for the esper-heavy family members, only Elizabeth and Maria were the active espers staying here now, and realistically, only Maria made use of these facilities.

So, they were open for the staff as well.

Not that it mattered much to ordinary people—it wasn’t like they had much use for such spaces—so it wasn’t crowded.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

I aimed at the target and pulled the trigger repeatedly.

How many rounds had I fired?

A warning beep sounded, indicating I was out of energy.

“Is it this late already…?”

I considered replacing the battery and continuing but decided otherwise after checking the time.

[Simulation terminated.]

[Training scores are being calculated.]

“Hoo…”

I removed the training goggles.

Had I focused too hard for too long?

A wave of fatigue hit me, making me momentarily dizzy.

I barely managed to stay on my feet and walked to the chair next to the water cooler, collapsing into it.

As I sipped some water to recover, I sensed someone entering the training room.

“Wow, Heewoon. Your skills have seriously improved,” Maria said, her exaggerated tone of amazement making me a little self-conscious.

I rubbed at the corner of my mouth awkwardly.

The score on the monitor read 67.

It was my personal best, given how much I’d concentrated, but I knew it wasn’t impressive.

According to the internal data, it barely placed me in the bottom 3%.

Even considering that most users of this simulation were espers, veteran field guides, or professionals, it was still embarrassing.

But compared to the score I’d gotten when I first tried this simulation, the improvement was monumental.

As Elliott had once mocked, neither I nor Yang Heewoon had any natural talent for shooting.

The progress I’d made over these months was likely due more to my increased strength and stamina than any inherent ability in marksmanship.

“Looks like your arms are starting to handle the recoil better,” Maria observed.

“That’s because Heewoon’s been training so diligently,” she added with a grin.

“I… suppose so.”

I grabbed my trembling arms, trying to keep my composure.

Though I wasn’t yet at peak physical condition, I was definitely better than when I first arrived here.

Back then, it wouldn’t have been an exaggeration to say every muscle in my body was useless.

“Sticking to a daily workout routine is really tough, you know? It’s amazing. You’ve been at it without missing a single day unless you were sick.”

“It’s just rehab exercises. Nothing extraordinary.”

“Yeah, right! Rehab? Who does rehab this intense? I’m your personal trainer, remember? I can tell exactly how much effort you’re putting in.”

“…”

“Don’t downplay it. Objectively speaking, it’s really impressive.”

I closed my mouth, unsure how to respond.

I had worked hard.

Both in my past life and this one, I’d never pushed my body this much—even during the brief period I worked a grueling logistics job.

Every day, I ran, practiced shooting, swam, and did strength training.

But… so what? I was still in the bottom 3%.

If it were Eunsoo, he’d have easily scored in the top 3%.

The gap in innate talent was insurmountable.

I’d never catch up to a genius like Eunsoo overnight.

In fact, I had no intention of trying to compete.

At best, with relentless effort, I might someday graze his heels. I knew this.

Yet, knowing didn’t stop the growing sense of urgency.

I’d been aiming for a two-year timeline, but after reading about the Seo Shinwoo incident…

While I sat in silence, Maria clapped her hands together as if struck by an idea.

“Oh, right! How about joining us on the field? Not for guiding, but suppression fire could still be helpful. It’d be a valuable experience.”

“I haven’t even hit 70 yet.”

“So what? I’ll round up for you—3 points isn’t much!”

I found myself laughing despite myself.

Maria’s casual attitude now was a stark contrast to her stern demeanor when I first arrived.

‘Listen, Heewoon. If you want me to train you, remember this.’

‘No slacking. Hit your daily targets without fail. If you skip more than three days, I’m done with you. A broken promise is a deal-breaker.’

‘The same goes for results. If you want real field experience, prove yourself with your scores. The benchmark is 70. That’s already generous.’

Her current approach was clearly a concession, meant to encourage me.

She must be really worried about me.

I thought I’d hidden my unease well through work and dinner, but I was wrong.

Of course, as someone who had been Elizabeth’s aide for years, Maria was bound to be exceptionally perceptive.

“Thanks, but I’ll push a bit harder to hit the benchmark. I’m close enough now.”

“…Alright, but don’t overdo it.”

“I know. Overdoing it would only backfire.”

“And yet, why’d you push yourself so hard today?”

“…Sorry.”

“Well, at least you admit it quickly. That’s good. Consider this a special service—just for today.”

Maria smiled playfully and placed her hand on my still-trembling arm.

A soothing energy flowed from her.

Thanks to her S-rank healing ability, my arms felt completely restored, even stronger than before training.

Honestly, I’d been worried I wouldn’t be able to handle tomorrow’s work.

Maria’s kindness—or whim—was a lifesaver.

A smile crept onto my face.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. I should be the one thanking you.”

Her response puzzled me.

I was the one benefiting from the job, her training, and even her healing.

Why was she thanking me?

I gave her a curious look, but Maria simply smiled.

* * *