I was used to drawing attention, so it didn’t particularly bother me—but Gyu-hyeon kept acting out of line, as if this was his first time doing a protection detail.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
It first happened at the bathroom. As I walked in, Gyu-hyeon followed me. The way he was going, he looked ready to follow me into the stall, so I blocked him and asked.
“Even if you’re a woman, an Esper can be dangerous. You need to be cautious.”
It seemed he misunderstood his assignment, thinking he needed to protect me from Espers while working inside the Center.
“I’m receiving protection because of the attack incident. This is the Center—Cremons and Creatures can’t get in here.”
“I’m aware. But isn’t the suspect a missing researcher and believed to be a mental-type? The Espers within the Center are potential risks as well.”
So much for my assumption. Gyu-hyeon was actually quite well-informed about the incident.
“You never know what might happen, so I’ll provide close protection.”
“If they wanted this level of close protection, they would’ve assigned a female Esper to me. This is excessive. Leave now, or I’ll knock you out.”
But he had no intention of backing down. This was going too far. Since when did protecting someone include violating their basic rights?
If he kept disobeying, I was seriously considering releasing a radiated guiding wave to knock him unconscious. Fortunately, maybe not wanting to faint, Gyu-hyeon slowly backed off.
I thought that was the end of it and that he’d finally understood my words—but his excessive protection flared up again in a different setting.
At lunchtime in the cafeteria, he stood in front of me, forming a 3-meter buffer zone where no one was allowed to enter. The lunch line was backing up because of him.
“Esper Seong Gyu-hyeon. What are you doing?”
I spoke with a tired, irritated tone, like I was fed up with him.
“I’m on protection duty.”
“Stop it. Sigh… That’s not how you do security.”
“But the Captain gave me a critical mission.”
Gyu-hyeon was a well-known fan of Han-gyeol. Even before awakening, he used to trail behind him, send him gifts, and even became vice president of his fan club.
The other team members joked that if Han-gyeol ordered him to die, he’d pretend to drop dead on the spot. He seemed to think Han-gyeol had given him special orders.
“If you keep this up, I’ll just ask the Captain to reassign you.”
“N-no! Please don’t…!”
As if nothing had happened, he stepped aside and let the Awakened through. The moment Han-gyeol’s name was mentioned, his attitude flipped. Clearly, he didn’t want to disappoint him.
How can someone be this transparent? Sure, he listens when you say something, but… is he planning to act like this all day?
As I continued glaring at Gyu-hyeon, clearly unimpressed, Ji-han—who’d been watching from the side—spoke.
“I’m better than that guy.”
“Yes.”
Ji-han, who just stood silently by my side and did nothing, honestly was better.
“Just ask to have him removed. Why are you hesitating?”
I glanced over at Ji-han, who had already gotten his food. He was cheerfully chatting with the cafeteria lady who handed out the meat dishes, asking for just a little more.
“The Captain’s been looking at me unfavorably lately.”
“Still, at least bring it up. Even I think that guy’s way too much.”
That’s true… But I kept thinking about how Han-gyeol had mentioned they might soon catch a trace of the culprit. He wouldn’t have assigned Gyu-hyeon without a reason.
“It’s fine. It’s just for today anyway. I’ll try to endure it.”
Ji-han gave me a look like, Really? You? but then nodded and went to grab a seat at a four-person table.
As I slowly walked over to join him, Gyu-hyeon suddenly rushed ahead and started placing trays on the surrounding tables so no other Awakened could sit nearby.
I was dumbfounded by his ridiculous behavior. What the hell am I supposed to do with him…
* * *
The gate’s low rank made the morning busy, but there weren’t many injuries in the afternoon. Still, Han-gyeol was so swamped that he had already joined a second gate mission.
There was no word at all from the gate Yu-geon had entered.
“That’s why you have to get out early and grab the least suspicious injured person, so Sa-weol can guide them, right?”
“But isn’t guiding something that can’t be chosen? I thought during emergencies, the diagnostics team handles all the matchings?”
“You really don’t know, huh? Sa-weol is S-Class. She’s an exception. It’s a whole different level.”
“Ah, I see!”
I also get assigned guiding matches by the diagnostics team during emergencies. The only difference is that I have the authority to refuse.
Gyu-hyeon was getting a clumsy lecture from Ji-han.
“Security detail means you consider everything—condition, preferences. Like giving them ice cream at the right time to help them feel emotionally stable.”
“Esper Kang Ji-han, you’re truly amazing. No wonder you’re Captain Han-gyeol’s long-time friend.”
After being stuck in a capsule all morning, my throat felt dry. Maybe I looked pretty worn out, because Ji-han was now helping keep Gyu-hyeon’s overbearing protection in check, and I was able to rest outdoors.
At first, Gyu-hyeon had kicked up a fuss, saying we couldn’t be somewhere so open. But we ended up settling at a park on the way to the dorms. It was slightly away from the Center, so there were definitely fewer people than in the main square.
Sitting near the park fountain and eating ice cream almost made me feel like I was back in school.
“I’m saying you should stop chasing after Han-gyeol all the time and take on some solo missions. Honestly, you still act like a rookie in weird ways.”
“Do I? Still, I prefer learning at the Captain’s side for now. I think I’m still lacking in skills.”
Gyu-hyeon laughed awkwardly. He’d trained under Han-gyeol for about three years, so Ji-han’s criticism wasn’t entirely off the mark.
In five years, he’d even be eligible to aim for Captain status. Not that everyone becomes one just by being around long enough.
Then I remembered what Gyu-hyeon said in the bathroom.
“I’m aware. Isn’t the culprit a missing researcher, suspected to be a mental-type? The Espers in the Center are potential threats as well.”
Gyu-hyeon clearly knew quite a bit about the culprit behind the guide attack case. Yu-geon hadn’t known until I told him, so it wasn’t something he could have learned just from being involved in the mission.
Han-gyeol said he was working alone, but considering how much he trusted Gyu-hyeon, I started to wonder if they were actually pursuing the culprit together.
“Ji-han sunbae.”
“Hm?”
“Could you go get me another ice cream?”
“Wow, you’re using me as a delivery guy now?”
Ji-han let out a sigh of disbelief. I felt a little guilty, so I handed him my credit card and asked again.
“Buy something for yourself too. Please.”
“You think I’m a kid or something?”
“You said it yourself—security means considering the condition and preferences of the one you’re guarding. I really want another ice cream right now. Go, please.”
I used his own ridiculous logic against him, pushing him toward the store. Caught off guard by my sudden behavior, Gyu-hyeon stood awkwardly nearby, biting into his ice cream, unsure of what to do.
“Fine. Want the same kind?”
“Yeah.”
Ji-han eventually grumbled his way to the convenience store across the street. With him gone from the seat between us, a space opened up between me and Gyu-hyeon.
I scooted over closer to him, and Gyu-hyeon flinched.
“Wh-what is it?”
“Esper Seong Gyu-hyeon.”
“Yes, Guide Gu Sa-weol.”
He stiffened up just from me calling his name. Why did he always tack on the full honorific like that?
He only used “-nim” with me and Yu-geon. Since he used it with Yu-geon too, it didn’t seem to be about seniority.
Not important right now. I had to get to the point before Ji-han came back.
“You’re assigned to the guide attack case, right?”
“…Yes.”
“I heard it was temporarily suspended, but… are you working separately with the Captain?”
“……”
Gyu-hyeon kept his eyes down and said nothing. He bit into the leftover stick from his finished ice cream.
“You already knew details about the culprit in the bathroom earlier today.”
“……”
“Only the Captain would know something like that.”
“……”
“About the culprit—”
“You can’t.”
Just as I was closing in with more specific questions, Gyu-hyeon cut me off flatly.
“What can’t I?”
“Captain Han-gyeol told me never to share mission details with Guide Gu Sa-weol.”
So he did know what Han-gyeol had uncovered. A faint smile tugged at my lips. Even though Gyu-hyeon looked determined, he couldn’t even meet my gaze properly.
Like playing hide-and-seek, he avoided eye contact. His free hand nervously rubbed at the hem of his pants.
“Then you should’ve hidden it better from the start.”
I gave him a sly, villain-like grin. I knew I shouldn’t be this pleased.
But this guy was so transparent that coaxing info out of him didn’t even feel that hard. I couldn’t stop my lips from curling up further.
“Esper Seong Gyu-hyeon, how many years have you been active now?”
“Applying pressure related to rank or seniority could be considered workplace harassment.”
“Oh come on, how is that harassment? I’m just curious.”
I feigned innocence, widening my eyes like he was being unfair. Gyu-hyeon gulped and responded calmly.
“If you’re really just curious… this will be exactly three years and six months.”
“You know you’re eligible to become a Captain in your fifth year, right?”
“…Yes.”
“Esper Seong Gyu-hyeon doesn’t seem the type to want to be a Captain, though…”
I slowly ran my eyes across his face. Each spot I looked at caused his facial muscles to twitch.
The more intense my gaze became, the more nervous he seemed—beads of sweat forming on his forehead, his pupils darting around aimlessly.
“As someone entering your fourth year, don’t you think you need a meaningful result to firmly secure your place beside Captain Han-gyeol?”
Finally, he looked at me. His eyes widened, and his lips parted slightly—stiff, but in a different way than before.
In Alpha Team, there was no doubt Gyu-hyeon was Han-gyeol’s right-hand man. Ji-han was ambiguously involved, but he wasn’t the passionate type when it came to Center missions.
He did his job well, but always kept a distance—doing everything in moderation.
Gyu-hyeon, on the other hand, didn’t just focus on completing missions. His real goal was gaining Han-gyeol’s favor, and he always gave more effort than needed.
Naturally, from a superior’s standpoint, it was hard not to appreciate someone like him. And it wasn’t just about enthusiasm—Gyu-hyeon always delivered results that matched expectations.
So of course he’d be suspicious about what I was saying. He looked like he was dying to know what I’d say next.
“Since you’re in your fourth year, I bet Captain has even higher expectations for you now. And Esper Baek Yu-geon’s been achieving a lot lately too. I’m just worried, because I know how hard you’ve worked.”
“Did… Captain tell you something?”
