TDG Ch 14

The woman who had followed him was a well-known figure as well.

Lee Seoah.

An A-rank Esper. Her long, silk-like hair flowed down to her waist, and she was the only person in the country with an avatar ability.

“Aren’t you Guide Seo Juwon?”

Striding over, Song Hyunho approached me while scanning the scene.

As luck would have it, we were somewhat acquainted.

“I was passing by when I got the call. Are you hurt anywhere?”

So these people were the rescue team sent by the Center.

To think there were two Espers with special‑grade abilities nearby, heaven must have been watching over us.

“I’m fine, please help the injured over there first!”

“Who’s that? Who is he?”

Lee Seoah tilted her head as she spotted Han Jihyuk. Even amidst the urgency, Song Hyunho quickly picked up on the fact that I was avoiding the question.

“Let’s get the civilians out first.”

The two of them joined Han Jihyuk and began rescuing the remaining people.

Song Hyunho’s speed and power were classified as world-class. Swelling his body by drawing out his strength to its maximum, he dove into the horde of monsters with arms outstretched. The gathered creatures burst apart as if struck by explosives.

He pushed through dozens of monsters single-handedly, a display of raw power like a raging storm. His fighting style was clearly different from Jihyuk’s.

Lee Seoah’s avatar ability also proved exceptionally effective in rescuing the injured.

By the time they succeeded in safely evacuating the last victim, the sound of police sirens could finally be heard in the distance.

Damn bastards. Since you were going to be late anyway, couldn’t you have come leisurely tomorrow? What’s the rush now?

As barricades went up and the scene was being cleared, I blended in with the squad members and helped with transporting the injured.

Around that time, the helicopter from the Center arrived. Guides sent for Song Hyunho and Lee Seoah stepped off the aircraft.

Before they left, I went to see him off. Song Hyunho looked me in the eyes after disengaging from guiding.

“He’s that S-rank, isn’t he?”

The whisper came suddenly. Though phrased as a question, his tone was full of certainty.

I brushed it off with an awkward smile, and Song Hyunho tactfully stepped back without pressing further. He’d gotten the answer he needed, so there was no reason to push.

“You’ve done well, Guide Seo Juwon. Head inside and get some rest. I’ll see you around.”

There are plenty of Espers out there who, upon reaching even C‑rank, get drunk on the idea that they were chosen by the heavens, walking around with their noses in the air, full of self‑importance, and dropping honorifics left and right.

By contrast, Song Hyunho, despite being S-rank, was neither arrogant nor pretentious. He was like a pearl pulled from the mud, or a crane among chickens.

The way he used formal speech with a rookie Guide like me, who hasn’t been at the Center long, and naturally offers a “let’s meet again” shows what a rare gem of a person he is.

“You’ve worked hard. Then, I’ll head back first.”

After exchanging brief farewells with the two of them, Han Jihyuk and I boarded the helicopter.

As the chopper lifted off, the accident site came into view like a zoomed-out image.

I finally let out a breath and looked down, only to spot a particularly white car wedged between a couple of shipping containers some distance from the scene.

“Ah!”

It was the sedan I’d completely forgotten about. My heart sank in dismay.

What am I supposed to tell my father? I should’ve just taken my own car… Why did I have to bring this one out for no reason and end up in this mess?

* * *

As soon as I returned to the Center, I was summoned by Director Kim Yuhwan.

He was waiting with a harsh reprimand for my unauthorized decision to deploy the inexperienced Han Jihyuk to the scene.

‘I tried to stop him.’

‘It was an emergency.’

‘He didn’t use his actual abilities.’

I had plenty of excuses, but if exceptions were going to be made so easily, what would be the point of laws and rules in the first place?

The Center’s Esper management system wasn’t as lax as Division 7, where you could cover things up with half-baked excuses.

“What would you have done if something serious had happened in that mess of an incident?! You’re not in a position to decide whether or not to take responsibility! I wonder if you even realize that.”

Kim Yuhwan’s voice was fierce and sharp.

“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

I kept my head down and accepted the scolding without protest.

He had trusted me, and I messed up. This incident was clearly due to my lapse in supervision, and if I kept trying to argue here, I wouldn’t even be able to salvage what little I had left.

Kim Yuhwan, who had been glaring at me with clear disapproval, let out a long sigh and shook his head.

“You can go. The disciplinary notice will be sent in writing later.”

Huh? That’s it? I was bracing myself for at least thirty minutes of scolding…

As I stood there stupidly, Kim Yuhwan shot me another sharp look.

“What are you still standing there for?”

“Ah, yes! I’m sorry again!”

After leaving the director’s office and standing in front of the elevator in the hallway, I caught sight of myself in the mirror. I looked like a ghost, ragged and worn out.

It had been an unexpectedly eventful day.

Encountering an accident, nearly getting crushed to death by a container truck, my car practically ready for the scrap heap, and the finale topped off with being chewed out by my superior.

My mental state was in shambles.

Well… at least it ended sooner than I thought.

Trying to scrape together a bit of sympathy, I peeled off the bandages I’d stuck all over my face and stuffed them into my pocket.

But the reason Kim Yuhwan went easy on me wasn’t because of some pity over a few band-aids.

Even if I had been on the verge of collapsing, he was the kind of person who would say everything he had to say.

It was more like this: ‘I’ll let it go this time… for your father’s sake.’

Honestly, I’d have preferred getting cursed out.

I hated this kind of treatment.

Only after coming here did I realize that being spared could cut deeper than reprimand.

But this wasn’t something I could avoid just because I didn’t like it. It was one of society’s unspoken rules.

Kim Yuhwan might be my direct superior, but my father was his superior.

In fact, he was the head of the entire department.

He wouldn’t want to create an awkward situation with the son of someone that high up.

Needless to say, if I didn’t want to tarnish my father’s reputation, I simply had to do my job well.

And this time, I’d failed.

The written disciplinary action would almost certainly be a pay cut.

For civil servants, the scariest punishments were dismissal or salary reduction.

But to get fired, you’d have to commit embezzlement or some crime serious enough to disgrace the nation.

Since I hadn’t done anything that bad, a pay cut was the only likely outcome.

While dragging my feet back toward the dorms, my phone rang.

It was my father.

He must’ve heard about the accident.

But why was he calling by voice and not video?

“Father. Yes, it’s me.”

—“Juwon-ah, I heard about the accident. Are you hurt?”

The last time I saw my father was during Han Jihyuk’s awakening. It had already been a month.

And every time I got in touch, it was to deliver bad news… What am I doing?

All my talk about being filial was nothing but empty words; in reality, there was no child in the world more unfilial than me.

I felt so ashamed that my voice came out barely above a whisper.

“No, I’m fine. Not a scratch. But… about the car you lent me…”

—“Don’t worry about that. As long as you’re safe, that’s all that matters to me. Sorry, I didn’t call sooner.”

Only after hearing me say I was unharmed did my father’s voice finally soften with relief.

In the quiet sigh that followed, I could sense a suppressed anxiety and even a hint of guilt. I didn’t understand it at first, until it suddenly hit me.

Ah…

Yoon Yanghee, Seo Juwon’s mother, had died in a car accident.

To hear that the car his son had driven out had been totaled, there was no imagining the terror and despair my father must have felt in that moment.

There was only one reason he had voice called instead of video chatting.

He didn’t want to show his disheveled face to his son.

Guilt gripped my chest, and I felt disgusted with myself. I forced a cheerful voice, trying to sound like nothing was wrong.

“Father, I’m totally fine. Not even a scratch. Jihyuk saved me, so you really don’t need to worry.”

—“…I see. That’s what I heard. Can you thank him for me?”

“Of course. I’ll make sure to tell him.”

Even after ending the call with a quick “Take care of your health,” I couldn’t bring myself to head straight back to the dorm.

I lingered there for a while, pacing aimlessly.

Father… I’m sorry.

Just a little longer now, and I’ll be there.

When that time comes, I’ll truly become your son.

Let’s go on a cozy trip, just the two of us as father and son.

I’ll plan the perfect itinerary.

* * *

As I walked back to the dormitory, the thought of writing my incident report weighed heavily on my chest.

How was I going to get that thing done?

At least I’d slept a lot during the day, so staying up all night wouldn’t be too hard.

Before going to my room, I decided to check on Han Jihyuk’s condition again.

The more I thought about what happened, the clearer it became that I had been careless.

No matter what he said, I should’ve stood firm and stepped in myself.

The accident site was a mess, with several seriously injured victims.

Letting a rookie with no real combat experience, whose only training came from simulations, take the lead—

Justifying it by saying, ‘If not for that, there would’ve been more casualties,’ was nothing but self-serving rationalization.

The first stroke of luck was that Jihyuk didn’t panic and responded well.

The second was that Song Hyunho and Lee Seoah arrived right on time.

Meanwhile, this idiot named Seo Juwon stood helplessly on the sidelines, flailing and doing absolutely nothing.

My legs grew weak, and I came to a stop.

Closing my eyes tightly, overwhelmed by a wave of self‑loathing, I began banging my forehead against the nearest wall as a form of self‑reflection.

“What are you doing?”

Something soft slipped in between my forehead and the wall.

Startled, I opened my eyes.

Han Jihyuk was standing there, frowning slightly, one hand wrapped gently around my forehead, looking down at me.

“Han Jihyuk…?”

This was the entrance to the dorm.

Why was he all the way out here?

Jihyuk, without giving my bewildered self a chance, immediately pulled me away from the wall.

“Why are you hitting your head on the wall for no reason?”

“And you… Why are you out here?”

Jihyuk pouted slightly.

“Well, it’s just… no matter how long I waited, Hyung didn’t come back…”

…Is that so?

You came all the way here because you were worried I wasn’t coming back?

With that thoroughly displeased expression, looking annoyed like a big puppy sulking because his owner came home late, he made me want to hug him tight and rub my cheek against his.

Just moments ago, I was crumbling under the weight of guilt and self-loathing.

And yet, with one affectionate little grumble from my favorite character, my mental state bounced back like nothing ever happened.

It was oddly miraculous.