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    Originally, the tent referred to as the temporary command center was being used to treat the wounded and to receive verbal reports on the dungeon raid. But now, all the staff who were supposed to be doing that had turned pale and were wandering outside in a daze.

    The Beta team members who had exited the dungeon earlier were also staring blankly at their phones or frantically calling someone with pale faces.

    As the Alpha team looked on in confusion, a staff member came running up, not to Dojin, but to Yulchan.

    “Esper So Yulchan!”

    Why are they looking for Yulchan?

    A strange premonition struck down his spine. Yulchan instinctively took a step back, and Dojin stepped forward as if to shield him.

    But the staff’s next words froze everyone in place.

    “Right now, you have to go to the Center immediately! A dungeon break just occurred at the Center!”

    “……!”

    It felt like his thoughts came to a halt. The world around him began to spin. His head went blank, and the staff member’s voice faded out.

    The image of Jiho’s face from their last meeting in the Esper Wing lobby surfaced in his mind, along with Jiho’s earnest voice telling him not to get hurt.

    Realizing how serious the situation was, Yulchan hastily opened a path. The Beta team Espers all rushed into it without hesitation.

    The Alpha team Espers pushed the dazed Dojin to move.

    “Captain! What are you doing! We have to go!”

    “R-right… yeah.”

    A ringing noise echoed in his ears. His head swam. His heart pounded in an erratic rhythm, and his hands and feet turned cold.

    It resembled symptoms of guiding deficiency.

    A whisper he’d once heard before rose in his mind.

    —Your Guide is probably dead.

    No.

    —I told you, didn’t I? You should’ve devoured him before he died.

    Shut up.

    Dojin bit down hard on the soft inner lining of his cheek. The pain made the whisper vanish like mist.

    Clenching his trembling hands into fists, he darted into the path Yulchan had opened. Behind him, the footsteps of the Alpha team followed in a rush.

    ***

    “Huff, haah….”

    “G-Guide Geonwoo, are you—”

    “I’m— cough—fine…!”

    Behind the Center building, where the dungeon break had exploded.

    Jiho was supporting a staggering Geonwoo.

    It had already been about two hours since the two of them had followed the Beta team Espers out of the bunker.

    And in those two hours, the situation had grown disastrous.

    The barricade that had once surrounded the dungeon had long since collapsed halfway, and through that gap, monsters were pouring out in droves. To kill them, the Espers had to fight nonstop without pause.

    But such defense had its limits.

    The Guides of Beta and Gamma teams had already collapsed from exhaustion, and the Espers’ morale plummeted along with them.

    Not just morale, either.

    ‘There are more monsters roaming around now.’

    The Espers were worn out. Without guiding, they couldn’t even exert their strength.

    Geonwoo was just as exhausted.

    Unlike Jiho, who had not used any abilities during the two hours, Geonwoo had been pouring guiding energy into more than a dozen Espers and was now hunched over, struggling to breathe.

    ‘He’s exhibiting signs of guiding depletion…’

    Jiho immediately diagnosed Geonwoo’s condition with a glance.

    Just as Espers suffer side effects from lack of guiding, Guides too experience guiding depletion when they expend too much guiding energy.

    While it didn’t cause pain as severe as it did for Espers, it could lead to sensory issues like impaired hearing or vision, minor internal injuries, or even high fever.

    “Guide Jiho… I’m okay.”

    At that moment, Geonwoo managed to suppress his dry cough and reached for Jiho’s arm. His fingertips trembled violently.

    Jiho didn’t know what to say and nervously shifted on his feet. Just then, in the distance, a bloodied Esper was frantically searching the area.

    He seemed to be looking for a Guide.

    “I-I’ll do it. I can do it.”

    Geonwoo wasn’t even looking at the Esper. Jiho saw that Geonwoo’s dead eyes were wandering somewhere near Jiho’s face, but not quite focusing on it. That’s when Jiho realized Geonwoo had lost his sight.

    Being blind in the middle of a battlefield full of monsters was dangerous, especially for a Guide without combat abilities.

    ‘Until Guide Geonwoo recovers, I’ll have to step in.’

    To recover his vision, Geonwoo needed rest without using guiding so the energy could rebuild within him.

    With that in mind, Jiho began to step forward.

    “No.”

    But—thud—Geonwoo’s hand seized Jiho again. Jiho widened his eyes and turned toward him.

    Uncharacteristically, Geonwoo’s grip on Jiho’s arm was strong and unyielding. Even when Jiho flinched, he didn’t let go.

    The veins protruding on his pale hand looked desperate.

    “Guide Geonwoo?”

    “No. You can’t guide.”

    “But, look—”

    The blood-covered Esper was steadily drawing closer.

    He hadn’t yet spotted Geonwoo and Jiho, who were still concealed behind the structure, but at this rate, they’d soon come face-to-face.

    There were no other guides in the vicinity, only Geonwoo and Jiho. Jiho had no real choice.

    ‘Geonwoo can’t keep guiding any longer. I have to do it…’

    Geonwoo tugged on Jiho’s arm. The movement of his lips seemed like he had something to say in private, so Jiho leaned down to listen.

    Then Geonwoo whispered, his voice lowered to a volume only Jiho could hear.

    “I know you have an ability related to wavelengths.”

    “…!”

    “I’m not the only one. Everyone on Alpha Team knows. But no one’s ever said anything. Do you know why?”

    “…”

    “If word gets out, Guide Jiho, you’ll be in danger. Especially with what’s coming.”

    As the final dungeon drew near, the Espers would begin to lose their composure. After all, they were the ones who would face the monsters on the very front lines.

    The desperate will to survive and the fear of death would numb their reason. And on top of that, the instincts unique to Espers would awaken.

    If they wanted to live, they’d seek out Guides. They’d try to leech guiding energy from them.

    And Jiho… would become a very tempting target.

    “It’s dangerous. You can’t guide recklessly. Don’t step forward.”

    “B-but…”

    Jiho looked at Geonwoo, a bit flustered. Geonwoo’s eyes were still wandering through empty space.

    “Then… why did you bring me here?”

    “That’s…”

    “You thought my ability might be needed. Didn’t you?”

    “…”

    “I’m the only one here who can still guide. Geonwoo, you can’t push yourself anymore.”

    Jiho’s gaze sharpened. His voice carried a firm resolve that showed he wouldn’t back down.

    Geonwoo couldn’t refute him, because Jiho was right.

    But that didn’t mean he had nothing left to say. After a brief pause for thought, Geonwoo spoke again, more quickly than before.

    “There’s one way.”

    “What?”

    “A way for you to guide… without stepping forward. In secret.”

    Jiho’s eyes widened, surprised. He couldn’t even imagine what Geonwoo meant by this “method.”

    Was he telling me to poke the Esper’s eyes out so they can’t see, then sneak in a guiding session?

    Just as Jiho’s mind started spinning with ridiculous ideas, Geonwoo continued.

    “Do you remember what I said this morning about radiated guiding?”

    “…Radiated guiding? But you said it wasn’t efficient.”

    “Right. But you’re an S-Class Guide. And you can match wavelengths. If you can just pull it off, you should be able to improve the efficiency by syncing your wavelength.”

    Geonwoo hadn’t let go of Jiho’s arm, as if to say he wouldn’t allow any other method.

    Even if Jiho ended up with bruises on his arm, it couldn’t be helped. This had been Geonwoo’s plan from the start when he brought Jiho along.

    “You can do it, Guide Jiho. Really, you can.”

    “But… I’ve never done it before. I didn’t even know it existed until now.”

    “I’ve read the papers. I know the theory, so it’s worth trying.”

    Now, Jiho had a choice. But it was the kind of choice where the answer was already decided.

    “…I’m not confident.”

    “You have me. You trust me, don’t you?”

    For the first time, a smile appeared on Geonwoo’s lips. Though his gaze still floated in the air, that gentle expression seemed to give Jiho courage.

    In the end, Jiho couldn’t help but be swayed by that smile. He nodded.

    “…Okay.”

    “Good. For now, just stand comfortably and try to catch the flow of guiding energy in your body. It’d be best to lie or sit down, but we need to stay alert right now.”

    To prevent anything unexpected, Geonwoo released Jiho’s arm and instead held onto his sleeve.

    Jiho stood still, arms relaxed at his sides, and closed his eyes.

    Sensing the flow of energy inside his body was easy. It was something he’d done often to kill time while stuck in the illegal facility.

    “…I did it.”

    Geonwoo blinked in surprise at how quickly Jiho responded, then spoke.

    “Good. Now imagine pushing that energy out of your body. I heard it helps to picture it visually, but try whatever feels natural for you.”

    Jiho let out a soft groan and began to imagine it.

    Push the energy out… visual representation…

    In his mind, Jiho’s guiding energy was red. Just like Dojin’s mana.

    Soon, his guiding energy began to seep out from his body in a slow, misty flow. Noticing this, Geonwoo gasped and asked,

    “You did it? You did, didn’t you?”

    “…!”

    Startled by his sudden excitement, Jiho opened his eyes. A faint aura really was flowing from his body.

    But it was a completely different color than he had imagined.

    …Pink?

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