He Wasn't an S-Rank Esper?
Baek Yeo-eul's eyes flicked back and forth between the ID card and the man. When she'd first laid eyes on him, she'd pegged him as at least A-rank; then his far-from-ordinary recovery rate had convinced her he was S-rank. She had guided him, sure—but self-healing only grew more formidable the higher one's rank.
She couldn't remember the full name of the United Kingdom's only S-rank Esper, but she was certain of one thing: it wasn't Jerry Walker.
"Not British, then?"
Maybe, like her, he'd simply come over on a work assignment. But before she could even finish forming the hypothesis, the nationality field printed on the ID answered for her: United Kingdom.
It puzzled her, but Baek Yeo-eul—exhausted in body and mind alike—had no energy left to dig into it. He must have his reasons, she figured, and carefully tucked the wallet back into the ruins of his suit jacket.
She wanted to rest, but the situation wouldn't allow it. With no one to rotate the watch, sleep was off the table too. In the end, all Baek Yeo-eul could do was stare at the frequency detector.
Near the forest Han Yi-hyeon had identified as the monsters' origin point, red dots had been scattered thick as stars—and now, one by one, they began to vanish.
"Huh?"
They were disappearing fast—far too fast. Baek Yeo-eul hurriedly scrubbed at her eyes and checked again.
Half the red dots were gone.
What is going on?
Her bewilderment lasted only a moment before the answer arrived: the monsters were pushing out of the gate through the fissure. Startled as she was by the sudden development, Baek Yeo-eul quickly steadied herself.
What do I do now?
She sorted through her options one careful step at a time.
One: wait for the rescue team with that man.
Two: once he's recovered, destroy the core and get out of this gate ourselves.
"Will the rescue team really get here before the food runs out..."
One extra mouth, and the rations had been cut in half. Even rationing themselves to the bare minimum each day, a week was the absolute limit.
"Rescue team?"
Baek Yeo-eul whipped around at the voice beside her, heart slamming. The man on the dust-covered mattress had, at some point, pushed himself upright and was leaning against the wall, watching her. He wore the same playful smile he'd had when they first met.
"You actually believe a rescue team is coming?"
"...I do."
"Haha."
He burst out laughing with that deathly pale face, then went ugh and clutched his stomach.
"You're more naive than you look."
"Excuse me?"
"Every time I got left behind in a gate, a rescue team never came. Not once."
Though, in fairness, that probably had something to do with his being an unregistered awakened—used as nothing more than a disposable tool. Jerry didn't bother saying any of that out loud. Instead, he swept his gaze over Baek Yeo-eul from head to toe.
"You're a low rank, aren't you."
Baek Yeo-eul's shoulders flinched and curled inward.
"D-rank at the very least. Being generous, C-rank, maybe."
"I am C-rank!"
The words burst out of her, hot with indignation. D-rank, he says. D-ranks weren't even permitted into combat. They were no different from ordinary civilians—and even so, they counted as precious personnel, which was why they were usually groomed into researchers instead.
Sure, Baek Yeo-eul teetered right on the borderline between D and C, but on paper she was C-rank, plain and simple. Her pride took the hit anyway.
Jerry pressed on, utterly unbothered.
"Nobody sends a rescue team into a Grade 2 gate for a C-rank guide."
Which, of course, was only true of ordinary C-rank guides.
Han Yi-hyeon's text message played aloud through her phone.
Right. Han Yi-hyeon will come for me. He will.
The wavering in her chest settled. Baek Yeo-eul blew a dismissive breath through her nose.
"Since you're awake, let's start with disinfecting those wounds."
"Pointless. I'm dying either way."
Baek Yeo-eul ignored him and took out the antiseptic. His clothes were little better than rags, so there was no need to lift anything—she just shoved the ruined fabric aside.
When she sprayed the antiseptic over the wound, his well-built muscles flinched once, but Jerry didn't let out so much as a groan. It had to sting, yet his face stayed perfectly serene, as though pain simply couldn't reach him.
"Said it was pointless, and you're doing it anyway."
"Funny—for someone who seemed awfully desperate for guiding earlier?"
From Baek Yeo-eul's side of things it was a barbed little jab, but Jerry's eyes lit up like a child's.
"That was my first time being guided, you know. It felt better than I ever imagined."
"First time?"
How could guiding possibly be a first for him?
"I'd heard blood works too, but that was a first for me. Have you ever thought about how good the rest might feel? They say once you get a taste, there's no going back."
Then Jerry closed his hand around Baek Yeo-eul's rigid wrist and began kneading the jutting bone with his thumb, slow and deliberate—a motion that laid its sexual intent bare, without a shred of disguise.
"If we're both fated to die anyway, no harm in trying it once before the end, right? Two people the world threw away, the both of us."
He stared at her wrist with a gaze so explicit it might as well have been his tongue. The slender wrist. The curves hidden beneath her vest. The snow-white throat he'd buried his face against more than once. The full lips. The dark eyes.
Before he quite realized it, Jerry had wet his dry lips and asked, voice low and heavy:
Jerry was confident.
He knew himself well—his face, and exactly which expression to put on to get under someone's skin. His current state left plenty to be desired, but the guide in front of him clearly didn't keep close company with men, so this much ought to be enough.
The way her body had gone rigid during guiding. The way her hands had hovered, with nowhere to rest. He'd been certain of it the moment he saw her freeze at the words he'd just let loose.
Jerry knew perfectly well how impulsive he was being right now. Not once in his life had he ever craved guiding. Guides had thrown themselves at him countless times, begging to share his bed, and he had refused every last one of them.
Because he didn't need guiding. Because he had never wanted it.
Is it because my time to die has come?
He found himself wondering what face she would make, crying beneath him. No—in truth, what he wanted to see was that face of hers crumble: the one so firmly convinced the rescue team was coming.
A C-rank guide who still hadn't given up hope of rescue. The sight overlapped so exactly with the Jerry of the past that it left a filthy taste in his mouth. That was why he wanted to watch her come apart—and because he'd instinctively grasped that pinning her beneath him would arrive faster than any rescue team, he had made the proposal.
Jerry gave a hollow laugh at the ugliness of his own thoughts.
The guide stood with her head bowed, shoulders trembling. Jerry's gaze drifted to her ear, flushed red. With her head down like that, her hair—gathered high into a single tail—had slipped loose, brushing softly against her nape, and between those strands her small ear stood out all the more.
Jerry swallowed dryly. Looking at that guide kept leaving him thirsty.
Puzzled as he was, he didn't chase the feeling any further. He simply drew the guide's wrist toward him and pressed his lips to its soft underside.
"Then I'll take that as a yes—"
"Hey, you perverted bastard!"
Only after sparks burst before his eyes did Jerry realize his head had been knocked sideways.
He was still blankly kneading his stinging cheek when he turned—and there stood the guide, fist still clenched.
"You've been sexually harassing me like it's your three square meals a day. How often do you eat, anyway—once every few seconds? I drag your dying ass back from the brink, and this is what I get? Are you insane? Huh? The audacity is unreal. Never in my life have I met a bastard like you. If you're going to die, die alone. Me? I'm getting out of here and living another healthy seventy years before I die."
While Jerry was still blinking, the guide—having fired off her barrage—rose from her seat and began gathering up the survival kit.
Only after she turned her back did Jerry's lips finally move.
"No, wait—"
"Hey."
The guide stopped mid-stride, marched back over, and hurled the antiseptic, the gauze, and the bandages straight into Jerry's face.
"The more I think about it, the more pissed off I get. I'm speaking politely because it's our first meeting, and you keep talking down to me every chance you get? Do you even know me? Since when do you get to? Doesn't basic courtesy mean being polite to someone you've never met in your life? If you don't know that, then at least meet me halfway and keep your mouth shut. From the way you act, you'd think I'm in here keeping you company because I like you. I'm here because I want to live. And if this is how you're going to behave, I'd honestly rather walk out there and get eaten by a monster. You're a real son of a bitch. A certified lunatic—that's what you are."
Squeeeak. Squeeeak.
Under her irritated footsteps, the corroded stairs groaned out a wail like a scream.
"Uh..."
Jerry quietly stared after her retreating back.
Bang!
A moment later, the basement door slammed shut.
...Did I come out here for nothing?
Baek Yeo-eul regretted it the moment the basement door clicked shut. In the heat of the moment she had indeed spat out every word she'd been swallowing, but she'd never actually meant to leave the basement. Still, just sitting there felt ridiculous, and so—purely to salvage what remained of her pride—she had walked out after all.
"Looks like I'm going to die defending my pride."
Baek Yeo-eul heaved a long, deep sigh.
The moment she pulled out the frequency detector, the red monsters were right there, close. Her breath caught. This area had been completely empty mere minutes ago.
But then the monsters at the origin point had scattered far and wide—and had ultimately made it all the way to this house, the farthest one of all.
Had she seen that, she would never have set foot out of the basement. But Baek Yeo-eul had been too busy unloading on Jerry to spare the frequency detector a single glance.
I should have at least checked before coming out...!
It was far too late to move now. Clutching the frequency detector, Baek Yeo-eul could only roll her eyes. The red dots weren't merely close anymore—they were right beside her.
Creak.
Something was entering the house. Baek Yeo-eul knew instinctively that it was a monster. Her hands began trembling all on their own.
Her eyes darted to the basement door directly behind her, torn. If she slipped inside now, the monster would notice, and they would both die. But if she stayed perfectly still, the monster would deal with her alone and never discover that Jerry was there.
Ha.
How absurd would that be? The woman who'd stormed out in a huff all on her own, found dead right in front of the door.
The presence drew closer and closer.
Her palms had long since gone slick with cold sweat. Choice made, Baek Yeo-eul reached to turn the door handle. But her hand swept through empty air, and a voice came from directly behind her.
"Shh."