IGWKE Episode 4

Episode 4

“What can we do? No one wants to be the team leader of a garbage dump.”

Woo-joo’s joke brought a few more smiles, though they were bitter ones.

The Talent Management Team was often referred to by Espers with derogatory nicknames like “the facility for outcasts,” “the garbage dump,” or “the waste disposal unit.” It was seen as the final refuge for misfits within the organization and those whose abilities fell short of their rank. Before coming here, Yoon-ui had thought the same—and to be honest, his opinion hadn’t really changed. But despite all the complaints, it was undeniable that this team was essential to the organization. Just look at their basic routine task of managing absent personnel. How could a military police force made up of ordinary civilians be expected to apprehend Espers who failed to return from leave? And then there were the specific duties only the team leader could perform. Yet, despite this, the team was still treated poorly. Yoon-ui sighed and grumbled.

“I’m not asking for much. It’d be nice if they could at least reduce some of the grunt work.”

“Seriously. At this point, even if they just sent an administrative officer who isn’t an Esper to be the team leader, that would be enough.”

After all, the routine tasks were carried out by the staff under the team leader, and the leader’s unique duties, which administrative personnel couldn’t handle, could be covered by someone like Yoon-ui. It would be helpful just to have someone take care of paperwork and other menial tasks.

But the higher-ups insisted that this position had to be held by someone from the Ministry of Defense, due to the sensitive nature of the work, classified at the highest level, and they refused to allow an administrative officer to fill the role.

When they asked for additional Espers to help share the fieldwork load, they were told that there were no spare Espers available because they were all too busy with field operations.

And as a last resort, when they requested a veteran guide—someone who had accumulated experience but never made it to a team leader position—to take over, they were told that the demand for guiding support in the rear had suddenly increased.

Of course, it was all just excuses. The truth was that no one wanted this job.

Honestly, even Yoon-ui would rather stay on 24-hour standby for fieldwork than take the team leader position in the Talent Management Team. No matter how much he tried, it wasn’t a role where you’d be praised or receive good evaluations. In fact, the more effort you put in, the more you’d end up being disliked by everyone. Who would want that? Rubbing his forehead, Yoon-ui joked to Jung-woo.

“I’m really exhausted these days.”

“I can imagine.”

“If I were an Esper, I’d probably have had at least 50 outbursts by now. Then maybe I’d have taken care of 50 other undisciplined Espers too. Our workload would’ve been lighter.”

“Senior, could you please stop making those kinds of jokes?”

Jung-woo finally gave up on trying to keep up with Yoon-ui’s dark humor and slumped over his desk, looking dejected. Seeing Jung-woo’s broad but vulnerable back, Yoon-ui couldn’t help but laugh out loud for the first time in a while.

“Ah, I’m finally feeling a bit better.”

“You’re really too much, senior.”

Jung-woo grumbled, still face down on the desk.

After successfully annoying Yoon-ui, Jung-woo grumbled as he got up. Yoon-ui had a frustrating habit—he needed to vent at least once a day to someone, otherwise he wouldn’t feel satisfied.

Listening to Jung-woo’s complaints about being constantly picked on, Joomin clicked her tongue in disapproval.

“Stop bullying your hubae.”

“I need some small pleasures in this dreary office life.”

Yoon-ui responded, brushing off Joomin’s scolding as he organized the printed reports. He hoped that the personnel scheduled to return at 2 PM and 4 PM would actually do so on time. Even one more absentee would mean he’d be late for the senior staff meeting, and given that he was already on thin ice with the higher-ups, being late would only make things worse.

“Can I just have one day where I don’t get chewed out…”

But, as was often the case, the Espers were anything but helpful. Three of them failed to return by 2 PM, and one more held him up at 4 PM. After finally subduing the Esper who had put up a fight to avoid the detention center, Yoon-ui couldn’t hold back his frustration any longer.

“Damn it! These Espers are completely undisciplined!”

“Sorry about that”

Jung-woo mumbled.

“Ugh, I’m going to be late for the meeting. I’m definitely getting yelled at.”

“You’re used to it by now, right?”

Is that cheekiness? Yoon-ui shot a glare at Jung-woo but knew he couldn’t really scold him since he needed his help. I’ll deal with you after the meeting. Instead of reprimanding him, Yoon-ui held out his hand.

“Send me to headquarters.”

Since there was a security setting on the meeting room where the senior staff meeting was held, they couldn’t teleport directly inside. Jung-woo could only teleport him to a nearby secure hallway, leaving Yoon-ui to sprint the rest of the way. Despite his efforts, he was still five minutes late. As he burst into the room without even catching his breath, he was met with sharp, reproachful stares.

Damn it, then why don’t they fill the team leader position?

“Sorry I’m late. We had an Esper fail to return for the 4 PM shift,” Yoon-ui explained, his words polite, but his eyes defiant. There wasn’t much they could say, given that he was late because he was doing his job.

The director of the headquarters made no attempt to hide his displeasure, gesturing with his chin toward an empty seat. Yoon-ui bowed only to the director and the head of the Field Support Center before taking his seat.

“What could possibly be keeping you so busy in ‘Administration’?”

Someone muttered loudly, banging their meeting materials on the table. The comment came from Park, the head of the Field Response Center, who had been looking for an excuse to pick a fight. ‘Administration’ was a derogatory term used to mock the Operations Support and Talent Departments, implying they only handled safe, trivial paperwork.

The rude remark made the Operations Manager’s expression sour, but he was too weak-willed to stand up to an Esper officer who wielded real power in the headquarters.

But for Yoon-ui, a guide with a blue lanyard—an Esper’s natural adversary—things were different. As a fellow member of the Ministry of Defense and someone who had already been sidelined from any career advancement, he had little to lose by confronting a superior.

“That’s true. Normally, we don’t have that much work, but with the Espers’ military discipline going down the drain, even us ‘idle’ administrative folks can’t catch a break. It’s been quite a struggle.”

Already annoyed by Yoon-ui, Park exploded at the thinly veiled criticism of his Espers.

“What do our boys have to do with this?!”

He shouted, raising his voice.

“Do you know how many Espers failed to return today alone? They’re all in the detention center now, so come pick them up in two weeks.”

Yoon-ui replied coldly, his words dripping with sarcasm.

A laugh, barely concealed, echoed from the other side of the room. It was unmistakably the sound of Im Hyung-wan, the head of the Field Support Center and a fellow guide. Though both center heads were part of the Ministry of Defense, the relationship between them was strained, likely due to the differences in their backgrounds—one was a guide and the other an Esper. In fact, the head of the Field Response Center, Park, didn’t get along with any department, not just the Support Center. Seeing the subtle smile on the Operations Manager’s face, Yoon-ui continued his tirade.

“Honestly… they can’t even manage the basics like returning from leave on time, and yet they’re supposed to be the ones protecting the country…”

He exaggerated a sigh, his tone laced with mockery, until finally, the director stepped in to mediate. The director shot Yoon-ui a warning glance before lightly reprimanding Park.

“Manager Park, make sure your boys manage their duties properly.”

But as expected, Park wasn’t the type to take orders from an administrative officer without pushing back. He retorted defiantly, “My boys are doing just fine.”

“Fine, my ass…”

“Hey!”

Park snapped.

“Now, now, Manager Park! Not in front of the Director!”

The Operations Manager finally intervened, trying to defuse the situation. He also advised Yoon-ui to be mindful of his rank and speak appropriately, but it was clear neither Park nor Yoon-ui had any intention of backing down.

In response, Yoon-ui, without missing a beat, handed over a report to the director detailing the recent rise in Esper outbursts, particularly those linked to absenteeism.

“While the majority of absences are due to simple negligence and a breakdown in discipline, there has been a notable increase in cases where outbursts are the reason for non-returns.”

“Hm…”

“What…”

How well are you managing them, really? Yoon-ui held back the sharp words that wanted to slip out, restraining himself with the last vestiges of his professionalism. Of course, his eyes conveyed what his mouth didn’t.

Understanding the unspoken message, Park shifted his attack, now directing it at the Support Center.

“Isn’t it due to the guides’ incompetence? If the guiding were adequate, our Espers wouldn’t be having these outbursts in the first place.”

But Im Hyung-wan, the Support Center head, wasn’t one to be easily cornered. In her early fifties, she was an A-grade guide with a reputation that preceded her. Though rumors circulated that her rapid rise in rank was due in part to the deaths or retirements of her peers, her professional and political skills were undeniable. Smiling sweetly, she swiftly cut down Park’s insinuations.

“Well, we ensure all Espers receive sufficient guiding before they go on leave to prevent any outbursts. But we can’t control what they do during their vacation, can we? Who knows what they get up to….” She trailed off suggestively.

“What do you mean by that?!”

Park’s face turned red with anger.

“Oh, it’s a bit embarrassing to spell it out.”

Im Hyung-wan tapped her fingers on the meeting materials in front of her, drawing everyone’s attention to the bolded phrase in the report: Alcohol Dependency Among Espers.

“Our Field Support Center exists to assist Espers who have sustained physical and mental injuries in the line of duty. We’re not a rehab center for alcoholics.”

Im Hyung-wan’s tone was so pointedly innocent that it made her jab at the Espers’ high rates of alcohol dependence sting even more.

“What? Alcoholism? How dare you say that!”

“I’m not done yet. I brought this up last week too. Maybe instead of just saying whatever you want, you could show some respect and actually review the other departments’ reports once in a while?”