* * *
Was Dojin seriously about to start a fight inside a collapsing gate?
Siwoo let out a hollow laugh in disbelief.
If the gate were intact, that might be one thing—but with the core already destroyed, a fight between two S-rank Espers could easily put the still-evacuating team members in danger.
Had their Captain truly lost his mind to the point he couldn’t even consider that?
Clicking his tongue in disapproval, Siwoo remained calm, unlike the agitated Dojin.
“Watch your mouth, Yoon Siwoo.”
“….”
Dojin warned him in a low voice, using a formal title he rarely employed.
Siwoo wasn’t sure why, but Dojin was clearly furious.
Not wanting to provoke him further, Siwoo closed his mouth.
“Sector 3 will proceed as scheduled. That’s final.”
“…Understood.”
For Siwoo, the timing of missions never really mattered.
If ordered from above, he followed.
He had entered countless gates before—sometimes in worse shape than now—and though not irregulars, they had been dangerous enough.
Lowering his gaze, Siwoo looked down at his palm.
He could still feel the lingering trace of Raon’s guiding from the day before.
Watching him, Dojin frowned and passed by without another word, exiting the gate.
Eventually, Alpha Team 1’s deployment to the Sector 3 irregular gate was confirmed.
That alone put Raon in a gloomy mood.
Siwoo had said he made the request, but clearly the higher-ups hadn’t listened.
“Let’s hope nothing happens.”
On the day Alpha 1 departed for the mission, Raon found himself pacing into the training room, nerves on edge.
He just couldn’t sit still.
“Raon? You here to train too?”
“Ah, yes.”
Hamin, already in the training room, spotted him and trotted over.
Though she tried to sound cheerful, her face was unusually tense—perhaps she was also worried.
“Don’t worry. They’ll all come back safely.”
“Ah…”
Hamin froze, momentarily spaced out, then looked up at Raon with a small smile.
“You’re right… I’m just being silly…”
“It’s perfectly normal. Your paired Esper went into that irregular gate, after all.”
“Oh, right… I guess you too, Raon…”
At this point in the story, Hamin and Dojin hadn’t built much of a connection.
Originally, an S-rank Esper and a B-rank guide like her shouldn’t have even crossed paths.
But thanks to an unusually high match rate—almost absurd enough to call an error—they’d been forced into proximity.
But Dojin, who loathed Raon to the core, preferred Hamin, even if he wasn’t trustworthy, just because of his high match rate.
Hamin, though terrified of Dojin, eventually gave in to the pressure and joined Alpha 1 as a support guide.
In practice, he was basically his personal guide.
“But I haven’t officially paired with the Captain yet.”
“Ah, that’s…”
Now that he thought about it, the two hadn’t formed a pair yet.
And it was because the villain—Raon himself—had persistently interfered.
Feeling a wave of guilt again, Raon quickly added:
“You’ll be paired soon enough.”
“Ah, no… I’m fine as I am.”
“I don’t think the Captain sees it that way.”
“Is that so… haha…”
“….”
Hamin was definitely still afraid of Dojin at this point.
Understandably—Dojin wasn’t exactly a warm and fuzzy type.
Still, the two would gradually build their bond and open up to each other.
When the Black Gate opened and the country descended into chaos, it would serve as the final push for their emotions to deepen.
So whether Raon felt guilty or not, the two of them were fated to follow the story—bickering, clashing, and falling in love.
Raon turned away, expression blank.
Beep! Beep-beep!
“…!”
The training room wasn’t just for guides—sometimes Espers without missions came to stay sharp.
Suddenly, several watches beeped simultaneously.
“What’s going on?”
The Espers looked down in confusion—then, without a word, they all stood up and left.
Raon silently watched their backs as they disappeared.
The watches didn’t go off for the Guides.
Only the Espers remaining at the Center had been summoned.
It made him incredibly uneasy.
“R-Raon, where are you going?”
“Guide Hamin, stay here.”
“No! I’m going with you.”
“……”
Maybe he sensed something.
Hamin, unlike his usual self, shook his head with a pale face.
Raon had no choice but to take him along to the Center Director’s office.
“What’s going on?”
“Sigh… So it’s you.”
The director’s office was hectic.
Seokhyeon looked extremely busy.
His aides were in constant contact with someone, and as he received their reports, his face grew darker.
Something definitely happened at the Irregular Gate.
Raon, face stiff, approached Seokhyeon.
“There’s a problem with the Irregular Gate, isn’t there?”
“……”
“Director!”
Seokhyeon, who had been avoiding Raon, finally turned his head.
Just a short while ago he’d seemed fine, but now his face was noticeably gaunt.
“They say the Irregular Gate changed to a color we’ve never seen before.”
“What color was it?”
“Gray.”
“……!”
Damn it.
A gray gate was a strong precursor to a Black Gate.
Raon bit his lip, eyes darting.
In the meantime, Seokhyeon was preoccupied, buried in a flood of incoming reports.
This wasn’t supposed to happen until a year later.
Back then, a problem also arose with the Irregular Gate in Sector 3.
The gray gate that appeared then was the largest ever recorded, posing a catastrophic threat to the land.
Espers stationed not only in Sector 3 but in surrounding areas were deployed there.
Except for the Alpha Team, all other Esper units were nearly wiped out.
In that crisis, the government pressured the Center to send Guides into the gate—for the first time in ten years.
In the end, Seokhyeon himself, along with other A-Rank Guides, was deployed inside the gate.
And Seokhyeon died there.
Thanks to that, the gate was barely closed—but at a heavy cost.
Naturally, Raon hadn’t stepped forward back then.
As the nation’s only S-Rank Guide, he could’ve changed the outcome had he gone in Seokhyeon’s place.
But Han Raon, who treasured his life above all else, refused to enter the gate.
The Center agreed, unwilling to risk losing their only S-Rank Guide.
Of course, Han Myunghoon’s influence likely played a part too.
“…I’ll go.”
“What?”
Raon finally spoke the words he’d once swallowed back—words he couldn’t utter due to the System’s restrictions.
“The government wants Guides deployed, right? I’ll go.”
“But, Guide Han Raon…”
Seokhyeon looked completely thrown, not expecting Raon to volunteer.
But there was no time to hesitate.
Soon, the gray gate would expand and reduce all of Sector 3 to ruins.
The System wasn’t interfering this time.
He had to get inside quickly. As an S-Rank Guide, he would definitely be a valuable asset.
“Hurry. We don’t have time to waste!”
“Sigh…”
As Raon said, Seokhyeon had been delaying under pressure from the government.
He let out a heavy sigh and gave a small nod.
“I authorize the deployment of Guides. Han Raon will lead the team.”
“Yes, sir.”
“We’ll assign an Esper unit for escort. Stand by once preparations are complete.”
“Understood.”
Raon turned to leave the director’s office.
But someone blocked his path.
“I-I’m going too!”
“…What?”
It was Hamin.
Though trembling in fear, he looked Raon straight in the eye, courage burning in his gaze.
Indeed, in the original story, Hamin also enters the gray gate.
But not from the start—only after Seokhyeon dies inside.
That episode was when Hamin’s and Dojin’s feelings deepened.
But would it be okay to take Hamin in this early?
Never before had the original story diverged this drastically.
Raon couldn’t be sure of anything anymore.
“Please. I want to help too. I don’t want to just sit and wait…”
“……”
Because he’d read the novel, Raon knew exactly what Hamin was going through.
Despite appearances, Hamin was aggressive by nature and had originally wanted to be an Esper.
But he manifested as a Guide—and only a B-Rank one at that.
For someone who wanted to fight for his country, it was a devastating reality.
He constantly resented being stuck in the Center, left to wait while the Espers returned, always weighed down by guilt and helplessness.
And as a fellow Guide, Raon couldn’t help but empathize.
“…Alright. Let’s go together.”
“Th-thank you!”
Raon finally agreed to take Hamin, nodding.
Hamin’s face lit up, eyes sparkling as he shouted joyfully.
* * *
