DPGR 96

Meanwhile, Jiho stood still in a snowy field blanketed with white.

A blizzard whirled around him.

“The safe zone’s been breached!”

“Fall back! Back up, now!”

Jiho only blinked vacantly, showing no other reaction.

In front of him, grotesque monsters were swarming and tearing espers apart alive.

Then came a dull thud nearby, and a head dropped at Jiho’s feet.

As it rolled to a stop, its eyes met Jiho’s.

It was a shocking sight—but Jiho didn’t so much as flinch.

‘What is this.’

A human head. The face looked familiar.

It was the esper who’d just been laughing and spitting at him after slapping his cheek.

‘Why is this here.’

He felt neither pleasure, nor vindication, nor pity.

It was as if all his emotions had dried up.

His mind felt frozen; even grasping the situation was difficult. And he had no will to try.

“What are you doing!”

It was then.

Someone suddenly grabbed Jiho’s wrist as he stood staring at the severed head.

“You wanna die? Hurry, come with me! Run back!”

The person who’d seized his wrist pulled him away desperately, fleeing the monsters.

But the place they fled to was another hell.

Wounded espers rushed at the man who was dragging Jiho along.

“Guiding! Hurry!”

“What are you doing! Do something, quick!”

“This way, for now!”

They threw Jiho down in the freezing snow. Desperate hands reached out from all sides.

It seemed the safe zone had truly collapsed—Jiho might be the only surviving Guide.

Everyone was crazed, trying to extract guiding energy from him.

“Get lost! I brought him!”

Even the man who’d dragged Jiho here now treated him like an object, lunging at him.

Jiho scoffed at himself for even briefly thinking that man had saved him.

He hadn’t been trying to save Jiho.

He just needed guiding to survive the monsters.

‘I want this to end.’

A dagger on one esper’s thigh suddenly entered Jiho’s field of vision.

In this black-and-white world, it was the only thing that had color.

Without realizing it, Jiho reached out and drew the dagger from the esper’s thigh.

The cold blade gleamed. The people clinging to Jiho gasped and fell back in alarm.

“You crazy bastard. Do you even know how to use that?”

“What, you gonna stab us or something? You want us all to just die here?”

At first, they assumed Jiho was threatening them and spoke carelessly in their panic.

But when they saw what he did next, their words caught in their throats, mouths hanging open.

“Hey, wait, what are you—!”

The tip of Jiho’s blade wasn’t aimed at them.

It was pointed at his own neck.

The sharp, chilling blade touched the spot where his pulse throbbed.

It pressed hard against his pale skin, as if it would pierce it at any moment.

Bright red blood trickled down.

“I want this to end.”

His cracked voice scraped from his throat, so rough it hurt to hear.

Tears welled up in Jiho’s eyes—tears that slipped down his pallid cheeks, unable to bear their own weight.

It was the first time he’d cried since falling into this hell.

The espers around him looked stunned.

A faint smile crept onto Jiho’s lips.

Seeing their faces made him feel just a little better.

“Ha…”

That small smile quickly grew out of control.

Jiho laughed like a madman, then sobbed with shaking shoulders, and finally raised the dagger high, closing his eyes.

‘I’m done.’

And just as the blade was about to plunge into his throat—

“Guide Jiho!”

Someone grabbed his wrist.

They yanked the dagger from his hand and hurled it far away.

To Jiho, it was devastating.

He had just lost the only way out of this hell.

He crawled desperately through the snow, trying to reach the dagger.

But the man who’d grabbed his wrist caught him again and pulled him into a tight embrace.

“Guide Jiho!”

“N-no, no…! I don’t want this, let go! I don’t want—!”

“Guide Jiho! Jiho, Seo Jiho!”

The more Jiho struggled, the tighter the arms around him held him.

“Seo Jiho! Look at me! Jiho!”

“N-no! Let me go! Please!”

“Please, Jiho! You’re okay. Look at me, okay? Jiho.”

“H-hh…! Haa, cough!”

The low voice by his ear gradually softened, like it knew exactly how to soothe Jiho’s panic.

Strangely, it helped. It really helped.

“Hic… Haah… Huu…”

“Shhh… It’s alright. Just breathe. It’s okay. I won’t do anything.”

The man demonstratively inhaled and exhaled deeply, helping Jiho follow along.

Unknowingly, Jiho began to mirror his breathing.

“…… Hic! Huu…”

“That’s it. Slow and steady.”

When Jiho came to his senses, his face was buried in the man’s chest.

Above his head, the gentle voice continued:

“Now lift your head.”

“……”

“Let me see your face, okay?”

That voice sounded oddly familiar.

And the moment Jiho realized it, the half-forgotten image of a man came to mind.

‘Dojin… Baek Dojin’s voice…’

Jiho’s body trembled all over.

What if he was losing his mind?

What if Baek Dojin was dead, and Jiho was so far gone he’d created a hallucination?

“Jiho. Let me see your face. I want to see you.”

“…Ugh…”

“It’s okay. Alright?”

The man—Baek Dojin—gently urged him, slowly stroking Jiho’s back.

At last, with trembling heart, Jiho slowly raised his head.

And finally, the face he saw—

“Jiho.”

“…U-uh… Hhh…”

“It’s okay. It’s okay.”

“Baek… hic… Dojin…”

“Yeah. It’s me. Sorry… I came way too late.”

Tears streamed endlessly from Jiho’s eyes. Like a broken faucet.

Dojin raised his hand and gently wiped Jiho’s cheeks.

When the tears wouldn’t stop, he made a troubled face, then kissed Jiho’s eyelids.

“You did well. You held on. It must have been so hard.”

“Huhuhng…”

“Should we leave here now?”

“Sniff…”

Nod, nod.

For the first time, Jiho nodded of his own will.

Dojin gave a strained smile and lifted Jiho into his arms.

“Get some real sleep. When you open your eyes again, we’ll be outside the dungeon.”

Dojin’s voice grew distant. Jiho’s body went limp.

A strange sense of weightlessness swept over him, as if his soul were floating out.

Was this really just a hallucination I created?

For a moment, anxiety flickered through him—but it didn’t last long.

…It’s okay.

Even if it was an illusion, it was fine.

He’d seen Dojin one last time. That was enough.

Jiho’s eyelids slowly shut. Dojin’s lips touched down gently upon them.

***

One hour earlier, inside the nightmare—before Jiho met Dojin.

Kiieeehk—!

“Hahh… hah…”

Dojin had awakened from his nightmare by sheer will.

Now he smashed through room after room on the second floor, searching for Jiho and the others.

He opened each door lining the long hallway, killing the monsters inside.

Killing the monsters, and combing through the piles of their corpses in search of fallen teammates—

It was all exhausting, even for Dojin.

He’d already had his life force and energy drained by the dream demon.

And the content of the nightmare had been horrific, leaving deep psychological shock that still hadn’t faded.

[Esper Baek Dojin’s guiding level: 42%]

Dojin pressed a throbbing spot on his forehead and checked his watch.

As expected, the guiding percentage that had once nearly reached 100% was now shockingly low.

He sighed, brows furrowed with anxiety.

Grr! Rrrng—!

“…Heendungi.”

A familiar monster’s growl came from inside one of the rooms.

It was Heendungi—one of the team members he’d been searching for.

Dojin had found Heendungi barely ten minutes ago.

Or rather, it was more accurate to say Heendungi had found him.

Maybe he wasn’t affected by the nightmare because he’s a monster himself.

Unlike Dojin, who had only just woken from the nightmare and was still regaining his senses, Heendungi didn’t seem particularly harmed—aside from looking a bit ragged.

Still, Dojin was relieved that at least one teammate was safe.

Whimper… whine…

“Come here.”

Dojin saw Heendungi bounding toward him, leaping through the scattered monster corpses.

His once-white fur was now sooty and matted, and his muzzle was stained with blood from tearing apart other monsters.

“Did you find something?”

Bark!

Heendungi barked sharply and rubbed his muzzle against Dojin’s stomach.

Dojin realized the fox was wiping his mouth on him—but didn’t stop him.

“What did you find?”

Bark!

Heendungi barked again, then spun around and trotted off.

Dojin silently followed him.

And what he found was—

“…Kijoon?”

Behind an antique-style sofa, Gijun lay still, his face pale.

A translucent black barrier surrounded his body, which must have kept the monsters from touching him.

“Hngh… ugh…”

Beyond the barrier, Kijoon stirred and groaned faintly.

Dojin quickly swung his spear to shatter the barrier.

Bang! Bang! Crash—!

As the shield broke, Heendungi, who had been hanging back, cautiously approached.

But Dojin focused entirely on Kijoon’s condition.

“Kijoon. Choi Kijoon. Wake up.”

“Uuuh…”

Kijoon groaned in pain, and a glimpse of something black peeked out from beneath his collar.

Dojin’s brow twitched as he pulled the fabric down.

“This is…”

Black markings, like spiderwebs, were etched from his neck to his collarbone and beyond.