* * *
“Haebom! Over here.”
“Comiiing~.”
At the sound of Lee Taeyoung’s voice, Haebom quickly trotted over.
In just a few months, the two had grown close—like real brothers.
Ever since that drunken night, Taeyoung had started talking casually to Haebom.
He didn’t remember the exact moment it happened, but it felt natural, and Haebom had been calling him “hyung” ever since.
Same with Kim Jihyun and Yoon Gunwoo.
“Here’s today’s schedule. You’re up next.”
Haebom checked and saw that his time slot was third period.
Unlike the other sessions conducted in the education room, Haebom’s training took place in the practice hall.
That’s why it had been scheduled for the third period, right after lunch.
He was the last slot of the day.
“Did you eat lunch?”
“Yes, I did. With Horang. What about you, hyung?”
“I ate too. I had the first session this morning, so I’m beat. I’ll probably head home or to the office for a nap after watching your session.”
Taeyoung sighed and shook his head.
Normally, he would’ve just done his own session and gone home, but this time he’d stayed on purpose.
Haebom, who he had helped train, was now leading a session.
And not just any session—this was gate training.
Unlike the other static sessions, this was the only physically dynamic one.
It hadn’t existed before last year. It was a program created because of Haebom.
Not that the Center actually planned to take Guides into gates—no matter how special Haebom was, they couldn’t give him privileges.
That’s why the program had been created.
Almost laughably so.
“Are you ready?”
At Taeyoung’s question, Haebom let out a groan.
He had prepared his session based on the training he had received, but he still couldn’t help but wonder if he was the right person to do this.
None of the other Guides had ever received gate training. Haebom had been trained by Wonho.
Since Wonho was an Esper, it had been hard to tailor the training to suit Haebom’s needs as a Guide—but he’d done his best.
Now Haebom had to adjust that training for other Guides, and it was giving him a headache.
On top of that, he had trained continuously for a while, but the official Guide training program was only three days long.
Whether they would continue with gate training afterward was up to each individual.
And if they chose to continue, Haebom would be the one responsible for it—because he was the only Guide doing gate training.
“You’ll do great. If anyone can, it’s you. Actually, maybe I should give gate training a try too. I was thinking of starting with shooting practice.”
“You, too? Then we can train together! But… did your Pair agree to that?”
“It was already hard enough persuading him. He said he wouldn’t go into the Gate and insisted it was just a precaution. He finally agreed after signing a written pledge.”
“Ah,” Haebom let out a small sigh.
Wonho, like Lee Taeyoung’s paired Esper, had taken the same stance—not to enter the Gate, but to be prepared for any contingency.
But Haebom thought differently.
Maybe other guides could skip it, but not him.
Haebom believed he had to go into the Gate at least once—if only to stop Wonho from worrying.
Wonho acted like he was hiding his anxiety, but Haebom, who stuck by his side whenever they weren’t headed to the Gate or a mission, couldn’t possibly miss it.
He would sometimes just stare at Haebom with a tense, uneasy expression.
Every time that happened, a heavy feeling settled in Haebom’s chest.
It was especially frustrating because it was the kind of anxiety he couldn’t just fix for him.
The moment the doors swung wide open, the space with Haebom and about ten other guides began to distort.
A sharp ringing—beep—sounded in his ears.
His head spun, and the world in front of his eyes began to swirl.
“Hu-uhhk, urgh… You all remember the earlier instructions, right? When this happens—hah—what to do. Just breathe in and out, slowly. If you feel dizzy, you can lie down.”
Gahk, kehk—the sound of dry retching echoed from all sides.
The fabricated space shook like there was an earthquake, then suddenly felt like it was sinking beneath them.
It felt like the floor might split open and swallow them whole.
Even though Haebom knew it wasn’t real, just a simulated experience, the wave of fear that hit him was undeniable.
Still, he tried to keep his focus.
He wasn’t just some trainee guide—he was the instructor responsible for these people.
Amid the chaos, he scanned each face.
Thankfully, no one looked so severe that they were bleeding from the nose or ears.
The simulation hadn’t been running long, which was probably why the side effects hadn’t been worse.
“Hello—uh…?”
A clear voice called out from the open door.
The simulation device, destabilized, had splintered like it was struck by an earthquake, then disappeared entirely.
That was why they could now see who had swung open the tightly sealed, clearly marked warning door.
“…Haah. What is this.”
Haebom hadn’t realized he could speak in such a low, cold voice.
It wasn’t on purpose—it just came out that way, maybe because the situation was so outrageous and infuriating.
His focus started to blur, and he scrunched his brows to regain it.
It wasn’t just one person who had come in.
There were two.
“Isn’t this where the Gate training is held? I was told to come this way…”
The man tilted his head, wearing a clueless expression, as if he didn’t understand what he’d done wrong.
Even if he wasn’t in training, anyone working at the center should know not to open a door labeled with strict warnings against entry.
But this man seemed completely unaware.
“Oh! You were already in the middle of training? Guide Lee Yeojoon, didn’t you see the warning sign before opening the door?”
“Um, I saw it… but I didn’t know training was going on. Sorry.”
At the gently scolding voice, the man—Lee Yeojoon—lowered his gaze with slightly drooping eyes.
He didn’t look genuinely apologetic; it was more like he was gauging the mood of the person in front of him.
“This is a training session for new guides. As for existing guides who want Gate training, I believe there’s a separate process for that.”
Haebom said, suppressing the heat rising in his chest.
Lee Yeojoon flinched and quickly ducked behind the other person—Choi Yoonseo—who had entered with him.
He wasn’t particularly tall, typical for a guide, but hiding behind a woman like Choi Yoonseo didn’t exactly conceal him.
Haebom furrowed his brows even more at the sight.
“Ah… The Guide Director said it was okay for us to join. You didn’t hear?”
“No, I didn’t. In any case, it’s going to be difficult to continue training today.”
Choi Yoonseo looked at Haebom with an awkward expression.
She hadn’t seen the Guide Director that day, but she hadn’t been given any heads-up either.
Even Lee Taeyoung, who had been with them before they entered the training area, hadn’t mentioned anything.
“Why not? Can’t we just continue?”
Peeking his head out from behind Yoonseo, Lee Yeojoon pouted.
He had carved out time from his schedule to be here, and now they were suddenly told they couldn’t proceed with training.
Of course he was annoyed.
And facing Yoon Haebom’s eyes—which seemed to blame him—it completely ruined his mood.
He was already irritated about being trained by someone who had entered the center years after him.
Now he was being scolded on top of it?
* * *
