HLSEBT - 14

14. Hapjeong Station Gate 3

Cheon Geon-young spoke in the same calm tone as when they’d met in the conference room, showing no signs of agitation despite the intense battle. 

“Are you hurt anywhere besides your hand?” 

“I think I bruised my shoulder because of that structure over there...” 

“A bruise... impressive.” 

Aboveground, military rifles were firing relentlessly at the giant monster, yet down here, he had faced off against escort ants—stronger than regular ants—unarmed. 

A rumor came to mind: graduates of the agent academy could kill a person with nothing more than a butter knife or a blunt spatula. 

He wouldn’t be a hindrance if they worked together. The thought crossed her mind unconsciously, and she flinched at her own assessment. 

“Let’s go up and get you treated. I’ll teleport us to the stairs.” 

“Teleportation won’t work.” 

Cheon Geon-young cautiously pointed to the boy’s ankle. Was there an issue? Yoon Taeha asked the child for permission and rolled up his pant leg. 

Seeing the spiderweb-like white thread clinging to the ankle, she immediately schooled her expression to avoid frightening the boy. 

“Were you trying to cut this?” 

“It doesn’t seem to cut with ordinary tools.” 

She nodded lightly and turned to the boy with a gentle voice. 

“What’s your name?” 

“Juntae. Song Juntae...” 

“So Juntae couldn’t leave because of this.” 

“Yes... Hyung tried to cut it, but it wouldn’t cut. At first, it pulled me, and that’s how I got dragged in here... sniff.” 

She patted the boy comfortingly. It was remarkable that he hadn’t broken into tears despite the terrifying situation. 

At the end of the thread attached to the boy was the egg of the next queen. Even for an adult, it would have been a horrifying experience. 

“That thing... it’s so scary and big. And the thread is cold...” 

In one corner of the nest, a refrigerator-sized white egg radiated an overwhelming presence. 

When the next queen wriggled inside, the surface of the egg rippled faintly, like a water balloon. Its birth seemed imminent. 

Through the translucent shell, multiple black legs were visible—an instinctively repulsive sight. 

Yoon Taeha alternated her gaze between the egg and Cheon Geon-young, who showed no signs of fatigue. 

So this was why they couldn’t leave. He could have escaped on his own if he’d wanted to. 

A graduate of the officer academy had voluntarily stayed behind in the nest to fight monsters while protecting a child he’d just met. 

Here before her was the protagonist of what would surely become a heartwarming story beloved by the public. 

“That thing has to die for the thread to break.” 

Cheon Geon-young nodded knowingly. 

“The guns I have can’t handle it. I believe we need something KS-57-grade or higher designed for giant monsters...” 

Without a word, Yoon Taeha raised the handgun she had taken from Chief Choi. 

“Yes, that gun will do.” 

So this gun had a specific purpose after all. 

Though she hadn’t predicted this exact scenario, his preparedness was commendable. 

The sound of the queen was now distant. No one knew when she would return. Yoon Taeha needed to go and kill the queen. 

That meant the next queen would naturally fall to this man. 

“Someone who kills escorts with scissors probably won’t miss a shot, right?” 

“Do you trust me?” 

“I wouldn’t if you were second best, but you’re number one.” 

She handed him the gun. He loaded it with practiced ease. 

It was the first time she’d seen him hold a gun, and it suited him surprisingly well—as if he were born to wield it. 

Her initial impression of him as a pampered young master needed revising. Who would have thought a young master capable of killing monsters with scissors existed? 

Yoon Taeha contacted the Anchor, informing them that a guide capable of shooting was present, and instructed them to have medical teams on standby at both exits. 

“If you fire first, I’ll hear the sound and deal with the queen. I’ll disappear via teleportation and count exactly one minute.” 

“Understood.” 

“Don’t move recklessly. Wait for me, and we’ll leave together.” 

“I’ll wait quietly.” 

His responses were polite and precise. The operation didn’t seem likely to fail. It would be over quickly, with no room for error. 

Confident in the plan, Yoon Taeha began to rise, her tired body protesting. 

“Then now...” 

But just as she had lifted herself halfway, her vision went completely dark. 

It was pitch-black—a perfect blackout.

Of all times, it had to happen now. She rose from her spot, trying not to reveal that her vision had gone completely dark. She had trained for situations like this, but as always, the reality of it was disorienting. 

She focused on her hearing. Cheon Geon-young was soothing the child. Slowly, she straightened her posture, careful not to appear awkward. 

“...” 

One of the symptoms an Esper nearing their limit might experience was blindness. 

It didn’t start with total darkness right away. Five seconds, ten minutes, then an hour, half a day—step by step, it drove Espers into fear. 

She had experienced blindness once before, about a year ago, for five seconds. Yoon Taeha prayed this time would also pass in five seconds, but the darkness remained unchanged. 

Should she contact the Center? No, revealing her condition to Cheon Geon-young wasn’t an option—it would scare the child too. Please, let it return within 15 seconds. 

Her mind raced through countless thoughts in a short span when the last thing she wanted to hear came floating in. 

“Are you alright?” 

She squeezed her eyes shut. A soldier would easily notice something was wrong just by observing her pupils. 

“Esper.” 

So he wouldn’t casually call out the undisclosed S-rank name. 

Even in her blind state, she couldn’t help but think how cautious this man was. 

But there was a more urgent decision to make. She needed to confess that she had gone blind and find another way. She could chalk it up to a temporary variable—for now. 

“Um...” 

But before she could say anything, her guide hastily grabbed her fingertips, instantly resolving her dilemma. 

Tak. 

A warm spark flickered at the tips of her fingers upon contact with the stranger. 

It was a small flame, about the size of what appears when lighting a birthday candle with a match. 

Cheon Geon-young had merely held two of her fingers—not even a full grasp, no palm contact. 

Yet the warmth spread rapidly from her fingertips to her entire hand. 

It felt like a warm bead rolling along her veins. Even someone who hadn’t experienced many high-quality guidings like her knew exactly what this was. 

Instinctively, Yoon Taeha opened her eyelids slightly and gripped the stranger’s fingers tightly, like a lost child clinging to a family member they’d found again. 

The other person didn’t pull away. 

“Ah.” 

With his guiding hand, she returned to a world filled with light. The dim convenience store lights, moments from going out, now appeared brighter and sharper than stadium floodlights. The intensity made her bow her head momentarily. 

Was light always this blinding? 

“You don’t look well.” 

Ironically, the opposite was true. Thanks to this man, who likely had no idea what he had just done, Yoon Taeha now possessed the clearest vision she’d had in the past year. 

Could guiding reverse deteriorating eyesight? Was this really possible? How could this happen after barely exchanging words with him? 

Each question that arose brought a surge of heat rising within her chest. 

“...I’m fine.” 

As she spoke, she studied his expression. 

He didn’t know—he had no idea that guiding had occurred. He had no history of being matched with an Esper, nor any real experience as a guide. In terms of guiding, he was practically newborn. 

Though calling him “newborn” felt embarrassing given his size. 

Typically, the sensation of guiding was felt much more strongly by the Esper (around 100) compared to the guide (between 10 to 5). If the guide wasn’t skilled, and without machines, it was common for them not to realize guiding had even succeeded. 

In this situation, that worked in her favor. 

“I’m fine. It was just the lighting hitting my eyes.” 

“I think it would be better if I go after the queen.” 

Are you insane? Yoon Taeha nearly lost her composure and snapped at him. 

The mere possibility of losing the warmth that had just traveled through her fingertips made her heart race. 

“Do you want to go get eaten by the queen?” 

“I can buy you some time.” 

“If I go, it’ll be over immediately.” 

As much as she didn’t want to let go, she forced herself to release his hand with superhuman restraint. 

From the moment guiding occurred, an Esper was tethered to their guide—and she knew this all too well. 

Revealing that connection outwardly would hand over a massive weakness to the other person. 

Cheon Geon-young looked up at her. His face was the same, but somehow, he felt far more formidable now than just seconds ago. There was only one thing left to say to him. 

“Don’t worry. Just focus on making your shot count carefully.”

With a firm tone, she leapt onto the tracks. 

After two brief teleports, she arrived precisely in front of the queen ant, despite the dark tunnel—likely thanks to the unexpected guiding she had just received. 

It felt as though artificial tears had been poured into her previously strained eyes, leaving them refreshingly clear. 

“Phew.” 

Since she’d already received the guiding, it would be best to finish this cleanly. She whistled toward the large, black, rounded mass moving in the distance. 

Chak. 

Chak. 

The queen ant detected the sound and turned around. The triangular horn between its antennae glowed red, as if preheating like a bomb about to explode. 

“30 seconds.” 

Sensing the killing intent, the queen waved its antennae threateningly. Meanwhile, Yoon Taeha used telekinesis to rip out steel rebar embedded in the tunnel walls, originally intended for attacking monsters. 

The sharp steel rods gathered before her like cavalry spears. Facing the queen, she added a special twist—rotating them. The spinning black spears stirred up a whirlwind, causing dust and hot air within the tunnel to churn violently. 

In response to the sharp killing intent emanating from the small creature, the master of the rift prepared for battle. 

The spear-wielder’s unwavering gaze locked onto her target. One strike between the head and thorax, another at the center of the abdomen, and one more between the eyes. 

No matter how menacingly the enormous jaws—capable of crushing cars—snapped closer, she only thought of where to strike for an instant kill. 

“10 seconds.” 

Keeeeek! Fangs shaped like sickles moved with the intent to slice the soft human body in half. 

Yoon Taeha didn’t take a single step from her spot. 

“5 seconds.” 

The queen opened its mouth wide right before her. She could see the liquid capable of melting bones surging forth within the narrow tunnel. 

A moment of intense, one-sided tension. 

BANG! 

The two monsters charged at each other.