IGWKE Episode 3

Episode 3

The lingering smell of alcohol hung in the air even after the Esper had been teleported away. Yoon-ui waved his hand in front of his nose, clearly irritated.

“He’s the one who didn’t return on time, so why am I the one getting cursed out?”

“Exactly…”

Jung-woo muttered in agreement.

“Alright, let’s move on. Target 2, coordinates 36. 257. 44. 68.”

“Coordinates confirmed: 36 257 44 68.”

“Move.”

“Move.”

Once again, their bodies shimmered as they teleported.

The next location was also in Seoul, but this time they arrived at a typical residential home. Jung-woo let out a short sigh as they appeared in front of the house. Cases where the Esper failed to return while resting at home were usually not good.

Moreover, there was an unsettling energy in the air, suggesting that the Esper’s abilities were leaking. Although they couldn’t see the Esper immediately, Yoon-ui quickly pushed Jung-woo behind him and started emitting guiding energy in all directions.

As he intensified the energy, he noticed a stronger pull in one direction—towards a closed door. When he increased the intensity further, he could faintly hear what sounded like a groan coming from behind the door.

Cautiously, Yoon-ui advanced toward the door, increasing the amount of guiding energy he was releasing. The unstable aura of the Esper beyond the door became more palpable.

“Hnnn…”

This was one of the worst-case scenarios for absent Espers—an outburst. Yoon-ui quickly recalled the details of the Esper from the pre-deployment briefing.

Lee Hyun-ji. Age 22. Female. Ability: Physical B-class. Close-range combat. 43 missions completed. Average performance rating: B-. 12 previous absences. 35 outbursts. And today makes it 36.

“If I get too close, I’m gonna get knocked out…”

Yoon-ui lowered himself, knowing that Espers in the midst of an outburst were hypersensitive and could easily mistake any sudden approach as a threat, leading to an attack.

Moving as slowly as possible, Yoon-ui inched the door open. The air inside the room writhed ominously. He still couldn’t see Lee Hyun-ji, likely because she was lying on the bed deeper inside the room.

“Lee Hyun-ji.”

He called her name softly and warmly, using a voice drawn from deep within his diaphragm. In response, the groaning grew louder—she was still conscious. Yoon-ui cautiously poked his head through the doorway.

Fortunately, the room’s contents were mostly intact. Although she was in an outburst, it seemed that she was holding on to her abilities with the last of her willpower. Since no civilians had been harmed and no property other than her own had been damaged, they could let this slide. Assessing the situation, Yoon-ui gently began to release more guiding energy as he slowly crawled towards her.

“Lee Hyun-ji. Come on, let’s go back now.”

“Ugh… ugh…”

“I’m going to guide you now.”

Lee Hyun-ji’s ability was rated B, and even accounting for her outburst, Yoon-ui’s level was higher, meaning he could handle it. After giving her a brief warning, he forcefully suppressed her rampant powers with a single surge of his own energy.

A short, pained scream escaped her, but the overwhelming difference in power made any resistance brief. After a moment, he could feel her energy gradually receding, and the groaning subsided.

“Lee Hyun-ji, can you hear my voice?”

“Ugh…”

“Good, that’s a relief.”

Yoon-ui continued to emit calming energy, slowly stabilizing her condition. She was no longer in a state of immediate danger, which meant it was time to get her back to base safely.

Despite trying to maintain a calm and gentle tone to avoid aggravating her, Yoon-ui was anything but relieved when he approached the bed to check on the Esper’s condition.

The sight of Lee Hyun-ji, after barely suppressing her outburst, was a mess. Her limbs were twisted in unnatural directions due to muscle spasms, her face was drenched in sweat, and her pajamas were practically in tatters from the force of her abilities. Yoon-ui quickly turned away and shouted out of the room.

“Jung-woo! Go get Joo-min!”

Responding to the call, Joo-min entered the room swiftly, ushered the two men out, and proceeded to clean up Lee Hyun-ji and change her clothes. Thanks to Joo-min’s care, Lee Hyun-ji was able to enter detention looking relatively presentable, despite her strained muscles and torn ligaments.

Even though she was going to the same detention center as those who had simply been late after drinking, Lee Hyun-ji’s case was different. She was placed in a special isolation room designed for emergency recovery, where a dedicated guide would be assigned to her. Although she would receive intensive care comparable to that of a field returnee, it would still take over three days for her to fully recover.

Woo-joo sighed as he glanced over the draft of Lee Hyun-ji’s outburst report.

“Her outbursts are getting more frequent these days.”

“And she’s so young.”

“I’ve noticed that younger Espers seem to be having more outbursts lately. What do you think is causing it?”

Woo-joo looked concerned as he reviewed her history, repeatedly checking the alarming outburst frequency on the report. In contrast, Yoon-ui replied with a nonchalant tone.

“They’re spoiled. Kids these days are coddled too much.”

It was a typical old-school comment. Woo-joo turned to his colleague with a look of exasperation.

“You’re much younger than me, Yoon-ui, but everything you say sounds so old-fashioned.”

“I’m just stagnant water, that’s all.”

Even as he made this lighthearted joke, Yoon-ui kept his eyes fixed on the monitor. The data displayed on the screen matched the information in Woo-joo’s hands—Lee Hyun-ji’s outburst history. Despite his flippant remarks, Yoon-ui wasn’t taking the situation lightly.

“There weren’t any gates recently that should have pushed her to the point of an outburst.”

Her performance in the simulator was decent, but her field records were unremarkable. Not bad, but not exceptional either. She hadn’t failed any missions; all were completed, even if some took longer than expected. None of the gates she was involved with had a high danger rating, and there were no incidents of missing personnel.

Although she had been taking regular leave, the intervals between her outbursts had grown shorter recently. There was even a record of her taking a week off for sick leave due to an outburst.

“Joo-min, has Lee Hyun-ji ever had an outburst during training?”

“Not that I know of. If she had, I’d have known immediately,” Joo-min replied firmly. If the Talent Development Team said it didn’t happen, it didn’t. Besides, if she had had an outburst during training, she wouldn’t have been assigned to the field in the first place. Yoon-ui turned his attention back to the report.

“There’s nothing unusual in her initial aptitude tests either.”

“Well, back then, she had just graduated from elementary school. What kind of anomalies could you expect? Maybe they noted that she spilled her food too much or still wet the bed occasionally,” Joo-min quipped dryly, prompting a few chuckles from the team. After all, if a kid that young had outbursts, they’d practically be a walking time bomb.

Most Espers and guides were identified during middle school, when they underwent physical and aptitude tests as part of a yearly schedule conducted in cooperation with the Ministry of Education.

If a student showed signs of being an Esper or guide, they were registered with the Talent Development Team and underwent further examinations. Only those who passed these tests were selected for training, with parental consent required for guides. Espers, however, had no choice; once their abilities manifested, they became the property of the state.

Lee Hyun-ji had followed the typical path. She displayed Esper abilities during her entrance tests in middle school and began training shortly after. Her personnel records weren’t outstanding, but they weren’t poor either—a typical B-grade performance. Her abilities manifested in line with her potential, and she was deemed physically and mentally fit for fieldwork. Upon reaching adulthood, she was transferred to the Ministry of Defense and began working at the Field Response Center.

As Yoon-ui reviewed her career records, Joo-min handed him some printed documents and summarized her career path.

“She didn’t have any issues during the initial development phase, and there are no records of outbursts during her time in the Ministry of Defense, either.”

“Then why are the outbursts happening more frequently all of a sudden?”

At that moment, Team Leader Kim Heesoo, who had been listening from a distance, joined the conversation.

“Maybe she got dumped by her boyfriend.”

Team Leader Kim quipped, clearly finding his own comment amusing as he chuckled to himself.

Yoon-ui felt a surge of irritation and glanced at him, thinking how satisfying it would be to throw someone like Kim into the field and see him not return. But knowing how typical this behavior was for him, no one else in the room even bothered to react.

Joo-min pointed out the clean record Lee Hyun-ji had maintained until adulthood with the tip of her pen, insisting that the Talent Development Team had nothing to do with her outbursts. Woo-joo nodded in agreement, sharing a similar view. Joo-min sighed deeply.

“It’s always like this. They’re fine until they get to the Ministry of Defense, and then something goes wrong. It’s like that place is a breeding ground for psychos.”

Her sudden broadside against the Ministry of Defense made Woo-joo and Jung-woo’s expressions turn awkward. She had clearly forgotten that everyone she was talking to in the Talent Management Team was a Defense Ministry dispatch. Before Jung-woo could get too downcast, Yoon-ui intervened.

“You’re right. I was normal before I joined the Ministry of Defense.”

“…….”

Of course, Yoon-ui’s humor tended to be on the darker side, and it didn’t really help lighten the mood. Joo-min, realizing her faux pas, quickly fell silent. But it wasn’t just her—everyone in the office, even Kim Team Leader, grew quiet after hearing Yoon-ui’s comment.

I might have gone too far. Yoon-ui thought to himself. Trying to break the awkwardness, he gave Jung-woo a firm smack on the back.

“Smile.”

“Yes, sir. Ha. Ha.”

Jung-woo’s exaggerated, forced laughter finally eased the tension in the room. The conversation shifted to light banter about Jung-woo’s attitude and social skills, and how, despite everything, no one could quite match Yoon-ui in social awkwardness. The failed joke was quickly forgotten.

“…Anyway, there has been an overall increase in Esper outbursts lately. I’ve sent over some data analyzing the recent cases, particularly the second quarter incidents involving outbursts as the reason for unauthorized absences. You should include it in the report for the senior staff meeting later.”

“Oh, right. It’s Thursday. There’s a staff meeting today.”

Yoon-ui sighed. Even though he couldn’t complain about work-life balance given his demotion after a major screw-up, juggling non-stop fieldwork and acting as the interim team leader—an empty post for years—was taking a toll on him both physically and mentally.