Chapter 19
The inside of the gate felt like a sunken city discovered right after all the water on a planet had vanished. Between massive buildings whose crude, purposeless decorations stood out, a gloomy light drifted aimlessly. The entire ground was made of fine sand, sinking underfoot so badly that it was difficult to walk properly.
Even after entering a gate, at least one team had to remain near the entrance, standing by to eliminate monsters that appeared nearby and prevent them from crossing back through the gate. Including Blue Team 2, a total of five teams had entered. To decide which team would stay behind for gate defense, the team leaders gathered together.
Naturally, every team preferred guarding the gate over wandering an unfamiliar otherworldly terrain and suffering through hardship. That was why they resorted to the universally fair method known across all nations—rock, paper, scissors.
And the representative for Blue Team 2 wasn’t Junho, but Jiseo.
The other teams protested, saying it was unfair to put forward an esper whose very ability was speed as a rock-paper-scissors representative.
“Jiseo, fighting!”
Junho kneaded her shoulders, pumping her up nonstop. Jiseo laced her fingers together and glared at the other team leaders. It was a moment of taut tension.
The one who broke that tension was the devoted-grandson esper, Kwon Yul.
Kwon Yul, who had flown into the gate, spotted Jiseo among the espers standing in a circular standoff and naturally landed right beside her.
“Hello, Jiseo. Ah—hello, everyone.”
Since an S-rank esper rarely appeared in gates below A-rank, everyone was flustered when he casually greeted them instead of passing by, yet they still welcomed him warmly.
“Greetings, Esper Kwon Yul. It’s an honor to tackle a gate together.”
When the leader of Team 1 extended his hand, Kwon Yul smiled brightly and shook it. Even among espers, training and gate deployments rarely overlapped, so seeing an S-rank esper in person wasn’t easy.
To the public and fellow espers alike, Kwon Yul was an object of admiration thanks to his overwhelming strength and achievements. As he kindly greeted each person one by one, the atmosphere quickly turned into a Kwon Yul handshake event—despite the bleak and eerie surroundings.
Only after finishing his rounds did Kwon Yul finally get free and ask Jiseo,
“What were you doing?”
“Deciding which team will stay near the gate.”
“Oh, Jiseo, do you want to stay, or go inside?”
“I don’t really mind. Staying on standby is cleaner, though.”
Jiseo answered without much thought.
With that single remark, the direction of this gate operation was decided.
“Then everyone stay here. I’ll go take care of it.”
As casually as someone saying, ‘I’ll go grab some more beer from the convenience store up the street,’ Kwon Yul floated up into the air. He didn’t forget to smile brightly and wave at the people staring up at him in shock.
“See you later.”
“…What the hell is he talking about right now?”
One of Team 4’s members whispered to Jiseo. Compared to most espers and guides who awakened in their teens or twenties, he had awakened relatively late and was only in his second year. Though no one knew his exact age, he looked old enough to have a son Kwon Yul’s age.
“He said he’ll see us later.”
“I wasn’t asking because I couldn’t hear you, Jiseo.”
Beyond the gate, the vastness of the terrain was a problem, but as gate ranks increased, so did the monsters’ strength. In a B-rank gate, nearly 80% of the metropolitan headquarters’ Blue Team had entered.
Yet there he was, waving as if heading out for a casual stroll. It was absurd.
And then, in the very next moment—
Kwon Yul, who had been rising slowly as if shedding all the constraints of the world while waving, suddenly turned his back to the gate and vanished in an instant with a thunderous roar.
“Holy—what was that? Is flight at that speed even possible?”
Junho, who had already plopped himself down on the ground and was chewing jerky while Kwon Yul was greeting everyone, answered in his place.
“He probably doesn’t fly that fast outside gates. People file noise complaints because of sonic booms.”
Another esper shook his head as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just seen.
“Insane. If he disappears that fast, how are people even supposed to know who to complain about?”
“If there’s a jet-like boom with no contrail, it’s Kwon Yul.”
The espers left behind muttered among themselves, wondering if it was really okay for them to just stay put. It wasn’t that they didn’t trust an S-rank esper—but many felt they should still advance to speed up the clearing process.
However, the most experienced Blue Team leader—Team 1’s—stepped in and stopped them.
“Just watch for monsters approaching within a one-kilometer radius. Don’t go anywhere. If you mess up and cross paths with Kwon Yul, you won’t even have time to scream before you’re flattened.”
“So are we supposed to huddle here for four whole days?”
At someone’s question, the leader snorted.
“Who said four days? He’ll be back before 24 hours are up.”
They said desert nights were brutally cold—and it seemed the same applied to this unknown world. Once night fell, the temperature dropped sharply. Deep-sea-fish-like monsters with grotesque forms appeared a few times, but the teams taking turns on watch dealt with them quickly, and by nightfall even that stopped, leaving the surroundings eerily quiet.
Thanks to an esper who could manipulate fire, they were able to warm themselves without firewood. It was a luxury they’d never even dream of if they were deep inside the gate. Normally, they wouldn’t dare light a fire—barely catching their breath before diving back into combat in case monsters swarmed them. Laughing, a few people remarked that this was a rare experience made possible only by having an S-rank esper.
Hayun, who had been sticking close to Jiseo, let out a small yawn. Jiseo gently wiped the tears from her eyes with her index finger, and Hayun smiled bashfully before hesitating and speaking carefully.
“Unni… I need to use the bathroom…”
Espers were human too, and bodily needs were unavoidable. Jiseo nodded and took Hayun’s hand as they stood.
“Team Leader, we’ll step away for a moment.”
“Yeah, be careful.”
Junho, half-asleep, replied casually. Minhyuk, apparently bored, was digging enthusiastically at the sand, muttering that something might come out. Go ahead—who knows, maybe it’ll connect to Argentina. Hearing another team’s laughter, Jiseo and Hayun searched for a secluded spot.
In every direction were strange artificial structures shaped like overturned conch shells, their purposes unknown. Jiseo wondered if something other than monsters had built them, though no sentient beings had ever been discovered here.
“Hayun, let’s go behind that one.”
Giggling about how lucky it was this wasn’t a flat, tree-less plain, Hayun suddenly tugged on Jiseo’s hand.
“Unni.”
It was nothing like the sharp-toothed monsters they’d seen during the day. At first, it looked like water pooled on the sand. The things crawling along the ground—wriggling grotesquely—were unlike anything she’d ever seen.
They approached without the savage breathing or heavy footsteps typical of monsters. Slowly, they began to take shape as they rose from the ground.
The transparent, water-like forms gradually gained color. Red, viscous bodies continuously dripped and expanded as they grew larger. And there were many of them.
Hayun, who had called out to Jiseo, shook off her hand and immediately focused to activate her ability. As Hayun prepared, Jiseo did what she always did—coating her body in cold air to protect her—and shouted,
“Here! Seven o’clock from the base!”
Ziiiiing—
Hayun’s hastily fired attack streaked through the darkness, leaving behind a breathtakingly beautiful trail of light as it flew toward the monsters.
But it passed straight through their gelatinous bodies.
Like light passing through water.
The monsters surged forward at a speed incomparable to before. Like an enraged sea swelling toward a helpless buoy, a crimson wave rushed at the two of them.
Jiseo shoved Hayun aside and thrust out her palm.
There was no calculation. From her instinctively extended hand, cold erupted violently. The nearest monster froze and faltered—then the ice shattered and reformed, repeating the cycle as it writhed.
“Unni!”
“Hayun, get ready again. When they’re completely frozen—attack again. I’ll hold them off.”
Jiseo’s commands were calm and clear.
Truthfully, there were too many for her to stop alone. But if these monsters let attacks pass through them like water, she was the only counter she could think of.
The moment that thought crossed her mind, something inside her shattered.
And it wasn’t damage or limitation—it was release.
This was nothing like when she normally used her freezing ability. Instead of her body numbing from her fingertips inward, it felt as though fire was pumping from her heart, heating her entire body. Yet her mind was colder and clearer than ever.
Junho, the first to arrive, called out to her—but Jiseo didn’t turn around.
I can do this.
The instant that thought formed, the red monsters froze at terrifying speed—as fast as fire spreading across an ocean of oil.
Maybe… maybe even more.
Then—
KRAAANG—CRACK, KWAJIIJIIIK—
The frozen monsters began to explode in place with deafening noise. Ice shards flew violently, and sticky liquid splattered everywhere. Junho moved at incredible speed, knocking away the larger chunks, but there was no way to stop the massive volume of liquid raining down from above.
SPLASH.
Standing closest to the monsters, Jiseo was completely drenched in the remains of the liquid-type creatures.
“Ah—I’m sorry, Jiseo. I didn’t think it would turn out like this.”
A genuinely flustered voice came from above.
It was Kwon Yul.
“Unni….”
“Im Jiseo…”
Hayun and Junho, who’d taken less damage thanks to Jiseo blocking everything, approached hesitantly. Jiseo sighed and raised a hand to stop them.
“Don’t come closer. It’s covered in monster goo…”
