The Espers Who Regretted Losing Me Chapter 8

That’s right. That wasn’t just an empty threat.

Once a Named Monster is defeated, a Gate connected to the outside appears in front of the survivors—and after a certain amount of time, it disappears.

That “certain amount of time” could be several hours, or it could be only a few minutes.

Before proper systems were established, awakened ones often got trapped inside Gates while trying to recover their comrades’ bodies.

Naturally, not a single one of them made it out alive.

When the Gate opened again later, all that was found were bodies so damaged they were barely recognizable—or nothing but bones, or no trace at all.

The fact that time flows differently after a Gate closes was inferred from incidents like that.

Because of this, it became an unspoken rule not to retrieve bodies if someone died inside a Gate.

Of course, people regularly reported the Association for human rights violations.

And every single time, the Association gave the same answer.

“If the rights of the dead matter that much to you, then go through the rift yourselves and carry the bodies out before the Gate closes.”

There were even people who boldly volunteered, saying they’d do it themselves.

But once they actually stood in front of the rift, not a single one of them could bring themselves to step inside.

When you know there’s a 99% chance you’ll die in there, how could you?

Of course, the Association also considered the possibility of someone like Yeon Do-gyeong—someone who might deliberately harm a teammate out of malice.

That’s why whenever a death occurred within a unit, every member’s memories were thoroughly examined.

After all, there’s no better evidence than what someone directly saw and heard.

Among awakened ones, there were espers with abilities capable of doing just that.

And yet, the reason Do-gyeong could confidently say no one would ever know was because those memory-verifying methods didn’t work on him.

To be precise, it wasn’t just Do-gyeong—Lee Shin-ra and a handful of other espers were the same.

Their resistance to mental attacks was so strong that other espers’ abilities simply didn’t work on them.

The reason the Association treated Do-gyeong and Shin-ra as “special cases” wasn’t only because they were powerful—it was also to prevent the unpredictable actions of these uncontrollable lunatics.

Splitting Geumgang into First and Second Units, and assigning Cha Eun-hwi—who originally belonged to another unit—to us, was part of that same special treatment.

Knowing this, Jung Ha-ram shrugged and raised both hands.

“Alright, alright. I don’t want to die just yet. Then I’ll stay in the safe zone with Hyeya and—”

“If you’re just going to wait, there’s no point in Esper Jung Ha-ram joining us. Guide Yoon Hyeya will be moving together with us this time.”

I’d been keeping quiet, thinking it was better to say nothing at all—but at Cha Eun-hwi’s words, my eyes flew open.

“Moving together? Me too?”

Why? Says who?!

I shot back in disbelief, and Jung Ha-ram grinned again.

“Geumgang Second Unit really has communication issues, huh. Hyeya looks totally shocked.”

Cha Eun-hwi’s brow twitched, but since it was Jung Ha-ram running his mouth, he chose to ignore it.

Not like it’s completely wrong that communication doesn’t work with me.

Anyway, what mattered right now was that I was supposed to move together with them.

Guides have no offensive power.

We don’t have defensive abilities either.

Other than being able to guide, we’re no different from ordinary people—which is why, inside Gates, guides must be thoroughly protected.

Normally, a safe zone is created by deploying barriers at set intervals, and the guide waits there.

Then, whenever the espers return, guiding is performed. That’s the most common method.

That’s why every unit is required to include at least one barrier-type esper.

Barrier abilities are relatively common, and many espers have them as secondary abilities—though someone as strong as Shin-ra is rare.

That was precisely why the Director valued my ability so highly.

Being able to stabilize an esper in any situation just by holding their hand wasn’t something just anyone could do.

But when multiple units move together like this, things change.

There are two types of guiding: contact guiding, which requires physical touch, and radiation guiding, which spreads energy outward.

Radiation guiding has weaker effects, but it’s safer than contact guiding and can be used on multiple people at once.

During large-scale operations, radiation guiding is the standard.

In terms of fatigue, radiation guiding was far more exhausting. Less efficient, too.

But no one in their right mind would move recklessly alongside espers in a place where danger could strike at any moment.

From the espers’ perspective, having us along would just be another burden.

So then… why exactly do I have to move together with people who’ll be on the front line…?

I pressed my lips together and stared anxiously at Cha Eun-hwi.

With his usual indifferent expression, he continued.

“The A-rank Gate that has appeared this time is identical to the one that occurred in the UK 27 years ago. The Named Monster is a plant-type magical beast called the Lamb of Tartary—also known as the Barometz.”

“Tartar…?”

“…Tartary. Guide Yoon Hyeya, shouldn’t you at least be familiar with dangerous organisms? It’s a man-eating plant.”

He let out a long sigh.

Seeing me like I was some pathetic life-form made my temper flare.

It was 27 years ago! And in another country! Of course I might not know!

Still, I managed not to say that out loud.

Honestly, even if I did, it wouldn’t help. Cha Eun-hwi was a freak who had memorized the ecosystems and Named Monsters of every Gate that had ever appeared worldwide.

According to his explanation, legends about the Barometz—also called the Lamb of Tartary—date back to medieval Europe.

“People in the past mistook cotton for a plant that grew sheep. The Named Monster is said to look like a giant sheep with golden wool, hanging from a stalk.”

A sheep hanging from a stalk.

It was hard to picture.

“Since its roots are embedded in the ground, it senses nearby life forms and attacks them. It’s a troublesome monster.”

So why did I have to move together with espers in such a dangerous place?

“Shin-ra will maintain a barrier in real time as we advance through the forest. Once inside, poisonous insects and vines will attack from all directions. Esper Jung Ha-ram will detect them and lure them elsewhere, while we head for the main body. Then we’ll burn the fruit quickly and finish it.”

…That was why.

Plant-type monsters launch surprise attacks using vines, thorns, and spores.

You could get poisoned or infected with unknown viruses without even realizing it, making close combat extremely dangerous.

But they operate within a limited area, have simple behavior patterns, and plenty of weaknesses.

Fire is the most effective counter—and our unit had Yeon Do-gyeong, a fire-type esper.

“So you’re saying I need to keep guiding so he can use his abilities without restriction?”

“Yes. I know your concentration has always been on a similar level to Do-gyeong’s, Guide Yoon Hyeya—but this time, you need to do it properly.”

“……”

My face twisted unhappily.

Wasn’t it a bit much to compare me to him?

Sure, I hate studying and get distracted a lot—but I’m not that bad.

Normally, Do-gyeong would’ve snapped back, but he was busy having a staring contest with Jung Ha-ram.

Cha Eun-hwi brushed his bangs back tiredly and added,

“The Lamb of Tartary is a proliferating type. Over time, it produces new individuals, like offspring.”

“Ah…”

“Do your best. If things go wrong, we could be wiped out.”

That last remark annoyed me, but Cha Eun-hwi wasn’t the type to exaggerate or make things up.

Wiped out.