IGWKE Episode 8

Episode 8

“How are you still alive? What a relief. I was just debating whether I’d have to go to your dorm to clean up your corpse.”

Was that really a concerned comment? The words themselves made it hard to tell, but Kim Joo-min insisted that she was genuinely worried. She even offered him some of her precious, specially brewed coffee, claiming it as proof of her sincerity, saying he still looked pale.

Kim Woo-joo also expressed some concern, suggesting he could have taken another day off, but there was no such remark from Jung-woo. He must have been struggling to manage with half the team during Yoon-ui’s absence because the first thing out of his mouth was a complaint.

“Seriously, I thought I was going to die while you were gone!”

“Can’t you at least pretend to be nice and say something like, ‘You should have rested another day’?”

“If I said that, then I’d die.”

“You really wouldn’t have gotten far in life even if you were in the field.”

Jung-woo was truly unfiltered. Yoon-ui clicked his tongue, and Jung-woo shamelessly replied, “Yep,” before handing him a neatly wrapped mint-colored chocolate.

“Here, have this.”

“Oh. I didn’t think you were the type to prepare something like this.”

“Of course, I didn’t buy it.”

“Ah, that was left for you by the ‘kid.'”

Kid? What was she talking about? Yoon-ui looked at Joo-min with a puzzled expression, and she smirked as she explained. “Our S-Class.”

“Oh… the one who went berserk?”

Even though the Esper was technically an adult, he was still under training and under the jurisdiction of the Talent Development Team, where Joo-min worked. Plus, he was only just twenty years old, so technically, calling him a “kid” wasn’t entirely inaccurate. Though, given his size and maturity, he was more of a fully-grown young man than a child.

The memory of the intense heat, the smell of smoke, and the gray pillar of fire in the middle of it all came rushing back to Yoon-ui. Given the severity of the incident, he doubted the boy could have come out unscathed. But seeing Joo-min’s calm demeanor, it seemed he was in better condition than expected.

“He’s still alive, then?”

“Of course. He’s an S-Class, after all. After you left, they had eight guides working on him.”

Joo-min clicked her tongue. It made sense; for an S-Class, the capacity to hold power is vast. To recover from such a rampage and repair the damage to his body, it wouldn’t be surprising if they had to deploy that many guides. Though, why they hadn’t done so sooner remained a mystery.

“Well, if he’s fine, then that’s that.”

Whether or not he was doing well was someone else’s problem, and Yoon-ui had his own concerns to deal with. He decided to drop the conversation and instead accepted the neatly wrapped chocolate from Jung-woo’s hand. The sleek ribbon and packaging made it clear it was a high-end product. As he unwrapped it and popped a piece into his mouth, the refreshing mint flavor mingled with the sweetness, filling his senses.

“Mm, that S-Class of yours is well-mannered. You should take some notes, kid.”

The cool, sharp taste of the mint chocolate brought an involuntary smile to Yoon-ui’s face. Mint chocolate was one of the few desserts he genuinely enjoyed.

Jung-woo made a blatant expression of disgust next to him, shrugging his shoulders.

“I was the one who told him that you like weird stuff like mint chocolate, sir.”

“Hmm? He came by twice?”

“Don’t even get me started. He came by every single day. Every. Single. Day.”

Joo-min shook her head in disbelief, while Woo-joo chimed in with a few more details.

“It seems the kid felt really bad. He kept coming by to check on you.”

According to Woo-joo, the young Esper had shown up with coffee the afternoon of the day Yoon-ui went on sick leave, and then brought coffee again the next day. At first, he was just grateful, but as the days of Yoon-ui’s absence stretched on, the boy’s expression grew darker with guilt and regret.

“I told him it wasn’t a serious injury and that you were just tired from old age,” Jung-woo added nonchalantly.

“Yeah, thanks for that,” Yoon-ui replied dryly.

Apparently, the esteemed S-Class Esper had been so anxious about the absence of his savior that his constant visits to the administrative department had become a burden to those who were already off the fast track. In the end, they had resorted to a special measure: they promised the young Esper that Yoon-ui loved mint chocolate, which wouldn’t spoil even if left for a few days, and that they would notify him once Yoon-ui returned to work. Hearing the story left Yoon-ui feeling awkward and embarrassed, unaccustomed to being regarded as someone’s life-saving hero.

“It’s been years since an Esper thanked me for anything.”

“He’s a good kid,” Woo-joo remarked.

“Yeah, our Heon-ju is really sweet,” Joo-min interjected. So the young Esper’s name was Heon-ju. The name, when spoken, could easily be mistaken for “Hyun-joo,” a common name for a girl, but the way the syllable “Hun” was emphasized made it sound strong and dependable. The name brought back the memory of those broad shoulders that Yoon-ui had seen in the middle of the fiery inferno, shoulders that seemed like they could turn into stone with all the ash covering them.

The memory of the intense heat and the sensation of wrapping his power around that large frame resurfaced, tightening his chest. The thrill of the life-or-death situation, the rush of adrenaline that made him yearn for the field, crept back up on him.

But it wasn’t entirely a positive feeling. Yoon-ui shook his head, trying to dispel the unnecessary emotions.

“Alright. Tell your good kid thanks, but he doesn’t need to come by anymore.”

“Why? He’s been waiting for you just to say thank you,” Joo-min argued.

“What for?”

Yoon-ui tried to offer a piece of chocolate to Joo-min and Woo-joo, but both declined. Feeling a bit deflated, he popped another piece into his mouth and sat down, slightly miffed.

“Why would a guide be thanked for guiding? I just went out because I got the call.”

“Still, you saved him just before he went completely berserk. That’s worth thanking you for.”

“Enough. Just tell him not to come by. If that precious S-Class keeps coming here to thank me, do you think Manager Park will let it slide? She’ll lose her mind over it.”

“Fine, don’t contact him at all,” Yoon-ui said, waving his hand dismissively with a weary expression. However, the reactions from the others were strange. Jung-woo, who was terrible at hiding his feelings, looked particularly uncomfortable. The moment Yoon-ui caught sight of Jung-woo’s awkward expression, a sense of dread crawled down his spine.

“…Did you already tell him? That I’m back?”

“I told him yesterday… and that you’d be in today….”

“Wow, great job, Jung-woo. Your security measures are top-notch.”

Yoon-ui clicked his tongue and raised a fist, ready to deliver a punch. But before his flaming fist could make contact with Jung-woo’s abdomen, the office door creaked open. Our well-mannered and courteous S-Class Esper, Heon-ju, poked his upper body, clad in a bulky firefighter’s uniform, through the doorway. It was an adorably mismatched sight, given his massive frame.

“I heard that Mr. Jung came in today, so I came by to see him.”

“Oh, Heon-ju, come on in.”

Joo-min welcomed him warmly, as if she were about to run over and give him a pat on the back. Seeing that he had specifically come to see him, Yoon-ui slowly lowered his fist and turned to face the visitor.

Kim Heon-ju.

The first true S-Class Esper that South Korea had secured in over a decade. The Central Crisis Management Headquarters’ beacon of hope, and a future hero of the nation.

But rather than being the recipient of the somber admiration and expectations of older men, his face seemed more suited for the spotlight of television cameras and the screaming adoration of young girls. It was astonishing how he managed to look so good even in the thick, gray firefighter’s uniform.

Standing over 190 cm tall with a physique that seemed as though it could turn to stone in the heat of those flames, Heon-ju’s clean, clear skin, large, expressive eyes, and a double eyelid on only one eye, which gave him an asymmetrical charm, made him incredibly striking. His eyes, in particular, were big and bright, sparkling like they held secrets.

‘He’s got beautiful eyes,’ thought Yoon-ui, momentarily speechless at the unexpected encounter with such a handsome young man. If his abilities were that powerful, then his face should be at least a little less attractive to balance things out. Yet, here he was, defying logic by being both incredibly powerful and unfairly handsome. Yoon-ui prided himself on his looks as well, but Heon-ju had a completely different, superior kind of attractiveness.

“Hello.”

“Oh, uh, hi, yeah,” Yoon-ui stammered.

It was only after Heon-ju bowed his head that Yoon-ui realized he had been staring at him a bit too intently. Embarrassed, he forced a laugh and tried to make light of the situation.

“Sorry about that. I’ve been stuck in this office staring at these faces every day, so seeing someone as handsome as you threw me off for a second.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than one of the “faces” he had just insulted retaliated. Yoon-ui barely managed to block Joo-min’s elbow from jabbing into his side.

However, Heon-ju seemed oblivious to the scuffle happening in front of him. With a voice that was surprisingly soft for his size, he replied.

“…You’re handsome too, Mr. Jung.”

It seemed that it had taken some courage to make this compliment, as Heon-ju’s face turned a bright shade of red as soon as he said it. Then, suddenly, there was a whooshing sound.

Does blushing make noise? Yoon-ui wondered for a moment, but his ears weren’t deceiving him, and neither were his eyes. As Heon-ju’s face reddened, flames erupted over his shoulder.

“Huh? Hey!”

“Huh?”

Fire was blazing from Heon-ju’s back, piercing through the firefighter’s uniform. It was almost as if he were a living flamethrower. The administrative staff, who had never seen such an uncontrollable display of supernatural abilities in their daily work, screamed in panic. Even Jung-woo, also an Esper, let out a scream that was nearly a shriek.

The stack of documents on Yoon-ui’s desk was moments away from catching fire. Despite his scream, Jung-woo moved quickly, grabbing the papers and transferring them to his own desk. Crazy. Even Yoon-ui, who was the most experienced with flame-based powers among them, felt his heart skip a beat at the sight of Heon-ju’s fire. His body was likely reacting instinctively to the recent traumatic experience with the large fire—especially since the culprit was standing right in front of him again.

“Fire! Heon-ju, you’re on fire!”