IGWKE Episode 21

Episode 21

“Mr. Yoon-ui. You know, we talked about this during the meeting earlier—the issue with Kim Heon-ju.”

And this was why Yoon-ui felt the pressure. As soon as the meeting ended, Manager Im called him aside, looking uncomfortable. While he had anticipated being called, he hadn’t expected Heon-ju’s name to come up here, leaving him momentarily taken aback.

Manager Im offered an awkward smile, the kind of smile adults use when broaching uncomfortable topics, and began speaking hesitantly.

“Park said she would handle it, but I figured it might be better for one guide to relay this to another. So, I offered to speak with you instead. Please don’t take this the wrong way.”

There it was—the infamous prelude: “Don’t take this the wrong way.” It was a clear signal that what followed would likely be offensive. Bracing himself mentally, Yoon-ui nodded.

“Mr. Yoon-ui, are you perhaps close with that student, Heon-ju?”

The faces of the Espers glaring at him in the café sprang to mind. What a bunch of gossips they were. Manager Im, still smiling in that overly amiable way, explained that complaints had been raised by Manager Park.

“Espers, you know how they are. They blow things out of proportion, make a fuss over nothing, exaggerate and overinterpret… right? I understand that. But still… I heard you were having coffee together in the staff café? And Heon-ju visits the Talent Management office often too, doesn’t he?”

“Yes, well… I wouldn’t say we’re particularly close, but he does drop by often.”

“Right… Well, to be honest, there’s quite an age gap between you two. How old are you this year, Mr. Yoon-ui?”

“I’m thirty-two.”

“That’s a twelve-year difference. You’re practically an uncle to him.”

Not ‘quite’ an uncle, Yoon-ui thought but held his tongue. Manager Im patted him on the shoulder.

“Heon-ju’s still young and unfamiliar with how the organization works. And, you know how Espers are—they’re, well, bothered by how close you seem to be with Heon-ju. That’s just how they are.”

“I see….”

“Really, it’s ridiculous—like some sort of Romeo and Juliet situation. Just because you had a cup of coffee together, suddenly, they’re sending a perfectly good kid off to Busan for training.”

Only then did Yoon-ui understand why Heon-ju had been abruptly sent to training in Busan. The absurdity of it all left him speechless. Did they think he’d harm the kid for no reason? Indeed, “Don’t take this the wrong way” rarely prefaced anything pleasant.

“You understand, right? Reputation is everything in this field… you get what I’m saying?”

“…Yes. You’re telling me to keep my distance from Heon-ju, right?”

“Exactly.”

“Not that you ‘have’ to keep your distance, but, you know, you’re not exactly in a position where you’d interact much anyway… right?”

Manager Im gave him that knowing look, the kind adults exchanged when they assumed they were all on the same page. It made Yoon-ui’s blood boil for a moment.

When emotions run high, it’s best to stay silent, but that’s not always easy when you’re human. Suppressing his frustration, Yoon-ui nodded, reassuring Manager Im, then decided to finally say something he’d only been thinking about.

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

“Oh? What is it?”

“I’m considering a transfer.”

“…A transfer?”

Caught completely off guard, Manager Im blinked slowly, unable to hide her surprise. Seeing her flustered reaction, Yoon-ui felt a small, wicked sense of satisfaction.

He hadn’t just blurted this out on impulse. With clarity and confidence, he repeated his decision.

“I’m thinking about switching to an administrative role.”

“Wait, hold on, Mr. Yoon-ui.”

Now the tables had turned. Manager Im even stumbled over her words a bit.

“Why don’t we grab a coffee and discuss this?”

What difference would one cup of coffee make—or two, for that matter? Still, Yoon-ui complied, following Manager Im.

Seated across from each other with two cups of cheap, smoky-smelling coffee, Manager Im’s demeanor had completely shifted. Earlier, she’d delivered the directive about avoiding Heon-ju with a casual, “You get what I’m saying, right?” attitude. Now, she looked uneasy, clearly worried about what she should say next.

“Alright, Mr. Yoon-ui, about what you just said earlier…”

“Yes?”

“I don’t think I understood you correctly. Could you say it again?”

“It’s nothing complicated. Just what I said before.”

Lifting his cup, Yoon-ui wet his lips with the coffee before immediately setting it down again.

“I’m planning to fully transition to an administrative role and transfer departments.”

His tone was so firm that even he was surprised by it. The words came out as if he’d been preparing for this decision for a long time. Manager Im’s expression grew as dark as the bitter coffee in her cup.

“Why all of a sudden?”

“It’s not sudden.”

It ‘was’ sudden. Just the other day, he’d been unsure, even asking Jung-woo for advice. But now, he spoke as if he’d already made up his mind long ago.

“I haven’t been in the field for ages, and based on what you’ve been saying, it doesn’t look like I’ll be going back anytime soon.”

“Well, don’t jump to conclusions…”

“And honestly, from what I’ve seen, administrative work seems pretty appealing. Regular hours, a fixed schedule…”

As he began listing the advantages, Manager Im fell silent. It was true. Compared to the irregular, grueling schedules of Espers, the structured nature of administrative work seemed enviable. Particularly in the Talent Management Team, where Yoon-ui worked, the workload was relentless with barely any downtime.

For five years, he’d held a position that most avoided, lasting only 18 months on average. It was only natural for him to be burned out.

But if Yoon-ui left, it would be a problem. Switching to a coaxing tone, Manager Im tried to dissuade him.

“Of course, if you’re comparing the workload, administrative jobs are easier. They don’t have to enter gates or undergo physical training. Naturally, our work is harder. But, Mr. Yoon-ui, we’re Espers. And not just that—we’re guides.”

‘And so?’

Yoon-ui barely managed to swallow back the words.

“We’re among the chosen few in the nation. Chosen by the heavens. So, wouldn’t it be more meaningful to use your gift—your ability—for the good of the country and its people?”

Manager Im seemed to think she was addressing a wide-eyed rookie guide who’d just joined. Trying to appeal to patriotism and a sense of duty proved just how little she understood him. With an openly skeptical expression, he shot back:

“Sorry, but I’m not the kind of person who’s moved by speeches like that.”

“…Right. Of course.”

Finally, Manager Im dropped the facade, leaning back against her chair with a weary expression. Taking a sip of her coffee, she immediately grimaced and set the cup down.

“Do they seriously sell this stuff?”

“Must be your first time trying the staff café’s coffee, huh? Management usually gets the good stuff.”

“Ugh. This stuff really wakes you up.”

“They say everyone below management drinks this ashtray water while working.”

Though Manager Im likely had no influence over the staff café selection, Yoon-ui seized the chance to deliver a sharp jab. He was thoroughly fed up with the so-called higher-ups of the organization.

‘Same guides, same team?’

What a joke. He drove his point home once more.

“I’ve already been talking with the admin staff. Looks like I’ll be staying in the Talent Management Team.”

“But Mr. Yoon-ui, you’re still part of the Ministry of Defense. If you’re going to discuss things like this, shouldn’t you come to us first?”

‘‘Still part of the Ministry of Defense,’ huh?’

A bitter smile crossed Yoon-ui’s face. That phrase revealed their true feelings—they already considered him a castaway. And yet, Manager Im seemed oblivious to the weight of her own words.

“Ultimately, it’s up to us to approve it, isn’t it?”

“So… are you saying you won’t approve it?”

As Manager Im’s tone became firm, Yoon-ui’s became firmer still. Sensing the escalating tension, Manager Im quickly took a step back.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant. I’m just saying it’s all a bit sudden. Let’s discuss this calmly and decide together, alright?”

She was trying to backpedal, but there was no ‘next time’ for this decision. After today, it was clear to both sides: he was an outcast in the Esper organization, and he no longer had any attachment to it.

If they hadn’t told him to keep his distance from Heon-ju—if he had felt their advice was genuinely to protect Heon-ju or even himself—things might not have come to this. But the lack of sincerity in their words had pushed him past his limit.

“Where are you going to find another guide as capable as you, Mr. Yoon-ui? You’ve got the skill, the tenure, the experience, the leadership—everything. Wouldn’t it be a waste for you to suddenly leave for admin work?”

“Do you really believe that?”

“Excuse me?”

Though he typically enjoyed being recognized for his abilities, today, Manager Im’s compliments sounded hollow—despite being entirely true. Crossing one leg over the other, he stared at her intently.

“You don’t really believe that, do you?”

“What’s gotten into you today, Mr. Yoon-ui?”

Manager Im’s face twisted as if she were dealing with Manager Park instead of the usually composed and cooperative Yoon-ui.

But he wasn’t done speaking yet. If Manager Im truly believed in his abilities as a guide and thought it wasteful for him to move to admin work, she would have recommended him as Heon-ju’s training assistant. Even Heon-ju had said himself that his training results improved with Yoon-ui’s help.

Instead, Manager Im had prioritized avoiding conflict with Espers over recognizing his contributions. Or worse, she might not have even considered him at all. For her to now try to keep him under the pretense of acknowledging his abilities felt nothing short of deceitful.

“You just don’t have anyone else to fill my spot. If I leave, you won’t be able to replace me.”

“That’s not—”

“And I hate this position.”

The finality in his words left Manager Im speechless.