January 1st

January 1st.

I left Jaehyuk behind and kept the explanations going for a long while.

It was the same every year.

How strong the demon beasts were, what kinds there were, what happened if you died, whether you got paid, where you went to the bathroom. Serious questions and ridiculous ones tangled together as the session dragged on and on.

I answered them one by one while sneaking a glance to the side.

Jaehyuk was gone.

There ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was no need to look for him. It was obvious where he'd be.

"This place really is scary, right? But don't worry. I'm a 4th-year. No wait, it's January 1st now, so does that make me a 5th-year? Anyway, I've been here since the very beginning, so I know pretty much everything."

At least when it came to women, the guy's persistence was remarkable.

"It's terrifying for everyone at first, but once you've got someone looking out for you, you adapt fast. If you leave it to me—"

I hated to admit it, but Jaehyuk was actually pretty handsome.

As long as he didn't open his mouth.

He was tall, with sharp features—normally the rookie girls would be smiling back at him with that coy, can't-help-myself act.

But Seoyun's expression didn't budge an inch.

"I have a boyfriend."

"...Sorry?"

"I said I have a boyfriend."

Jaehyuk faltered for a beat, then flashed his smile again.

"Aw, come on, your boyfriend didn't cross over with you, did he? This is a whole other world. Honestly, it's the same as never seeing him again, so what's the point of—"

"Can't you see?"

"...See what?"

"That I don't want to talk to you right now."

Jaehyuk's mouth snapped shut.

It was a rare sight to behold.

And in that instant, Seoyun's gaze sailed right past Jaehyuk and flew straight at me.

Just for a moment. A look I couldn't parse—was she asking for help, or just checking on me?

I pretended not to notice and took the next question.

Then a female rookie seated near the front raised her hand and asked me, "Um... so everyone who comes here is 21, right? You said you came four years ago... so that would make you twenty-five now?"

"That's right. Going by the math."

"Hmm..."

The girl looked me up and down.

She seemed to think I didn't look all that twenty-five.

Just as I was failing to read the meaning behind that expression and moving on to the next question, Jaehyuk shuffled back over and cut in.

"Ugh, you oblivious bastard. That's what she's asking."

Turning toward the girl with a grin, he said, "Seems my friend here's a bit slow on the uptake and skipped a part of the explanation. Let me fill you in. As far as we can tell, once you cross into this dimension at 21, you stop aging. We only started thinking that way recently. Up until last year we figured it was just our bodies improving when our abilities manifested, but there's way too much that doesn't explain. For example, even if you have sex without a condom, nobody gets preg—"

I slapped my palm over his mouth mid-sentence.

Laughter erupted among the rookies.

"All right, everything you just heard is officially unconfirmed, so please forget it. As for the rest, we'll cover it gradually at the guild. If your curiosity's been satisfied for now, shall we get moving?"

Jaehyuk mumbled something through my palm; I ignored him.

This was exactly why I used formal speech with rookies from the start. Going by appearance, we didn't look any more mature than our age, and there was no need to grate on the nerves of people still reeling from just having crossed the Dimensional Gate by bluntly dropping into casual talk.

When I let go, Jaehyuk sucked in a breath.

"Dude, I was getting to the point. The whole thing is that you can't get pregnant. The rookies need to know—"

"It's unconfirmed. And who says 'sex' like that? Shut up and go line people up."

Grumbling, Jaehyuk leaned in and whispered in my ear.

"But hey, that girl just now. Her iron wall was no joke."

"Good for you."

"That boyfriend thing smells like a lie, and even if it's true, what's a boyfriend you can't see anymore even worth? The way I see it, she cracks within a month, guaranteed. People get lonely, and when they do—"

"Jaehyuk."

"What."

"Shut your mouth and let's move. The faster we get to the guild, the faster we finish everything today. I'm exhausted, you ass."

When I said it in a voice wearier than usual, Jaehyuk grumbled but fell in line.

I raised my voice toward the rookies.

"All right, we'll now be heading to the Korean guild, Baekho. Please form two lines. Don't stray from the group—just follow the person in front of you."

It took about twenty minutes on foot from the Dimensional Gate Plaza to reach Baekho Guild.

Baekho sat on the outer edge of the Royal Capital, tucked into a cramped corner that sat considerably deeper in than the other guilds.

A five-story stone building. Above the front gate hung a battered wooden plank painted with the image of a white tiger.

Anyone could see it was on a whole different level from the lavish headquarters of Greystone or Yongmun.

"...This is it?"

Someone behind me said it with clear disappointment.

She'd probably gotten her hopes up on the way here, seeing the scale of the other guilds.

"We're expanding. In a few months it should look a bit better."

Exactly how many those few months would turn out to be, I couldn't say.

Well, nothing to be done about it. The fact was, we were small.

Does size really matter, though?

The moment I pushed open the front gate, the guild members inside came swarming out.

"They're here! They're here! The rookies are here!"

"Hey, hey, how many this year? Ten or so?"

Everyone's faces were brimming with expectation.

And with good reason. Last year's rookie class had barely topped twenty—and of those, three had lingered at Baekho HQ only to leave for other, foreign guilds.

Baekho's chronic manpower shortage fed into itself, a vicious cycle. With the Gate's scale shrinking again this year, everyone had probably braced for single digits, maybe ten at most.

And then they saw the 108 recruits filing in endlessly behind me...

Every one of them froze.

"...What. Did this year's Gate spit out more than 625?"

"Why are there so many?"

"Hajun, did you go and bring in Yongmun's rookies too?"

"They're all Korean. The Gate looks like it followed the estimate at 625—even I was shocked. Answering all their questions wore me out."

At my words, the guild hall began to murmur.

It had to. Baekho's entire roster was only around 700, and more than a hundred people had just walked in at once.

The confusion was about to swell.

"Everyone, quiet."

The voice wasn't loud, but the entire hall froze at the sound of it.

A woman was descending the staircase.

Draped in a cloak emblazoned with the ornate Baekho crest. Her stride was quick and utterly unwavering. Behind her, a handful of spirits in faint shapes of light moved in tow, drifting near her shoulders.

Seo Yerin.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Guild Master of Baekho. Spirit shaman. And one of only two Awakened in the guild.

Her looks, more unearthly and mysterious than ever since her Awakening, and the silver hair that had transformed to match the spirits she commanded, seized every eye in the room.

"The rookie class blew way past projections. No time to stand around gawking—everyone to your posts."

Yerin swept her gaze across the hall and issued orders in rapid succession.

"The expedition is out, so we have space to spare. One room per person is out of the question, but formal room assignments can wait. Food crew, recalculate supplies. Admin team, prep the registration documents. Everyone else, collect the rookies' personal information ahead of time so registration can be processed quickly. Right now."

At that, the guild members scattered instantly.

These were the same people who'd been standing around dumbstruck a moment ago—and now they moved in perfect unison at a single word from Yerin.

Watching the scene, I felt it all over again: this was why she was the Guild Master.

And I wasn't the only one who felt it.

The rookies who'd been despairing over the guild's shabby exterior just moments before were now, without realizing it, unable to tear their eyes off her.

"...Who is that?"

"Guess she's the guild master. Even her presence is on another level."

A few of the guys looked completely dazed.

"Wow, she's gorgeous..."

"Hey, I think we picked the right guild."

The mere appearance of Yerin had shifted the mood in a strange way. Whether she overwhelmed them or enthralled them—probably both.

After that, everyone set to their assigned tasks, and the registration process began at speed.

Name, age, origin, which part of Korea they were from, their job before summoning—even distinguishing traits. The admin team lined the rookies up and took their records one by one.

I sat at a side table organizing the roster. The recruits filed past in order, and most of the answers ran along the same lines. Student, soldier, job seeker, part-timer. The kind of things a twenty-one-year-old would put down.

Then came the turn of that Black man.

Up close, his build was even bigger.

Had he come to the Korean guild simply because he liked Korea?

The moment I picked up my pen to ask in English—

"Name's William, don'tcha know."

It was crisp, careful Korean.

"...You're Korean?"

"Well now, cain't ya tell just by lookin'? I'm Jeolla-born and raised, I am."

My pen stopped.

"...I'm sorry?"

"Born and raised in Gwangju, I was. My granny used to make kimchi so tasty it'd make ya weep."

William flashed a grin.

"But 'round here, ain't a speck o' kimchi to be seen? That part's a might peculiar, I tell ya."

The rookies waiting behind him for registration stifled their laughter.

I was at a loss for a moment too, before picking my pen back up.

"...Name, William. Origin, Gwangju."

"Yes sir, write it down nice and proper now."

This world was like that, sometimes. The Dimensional Gate truly had no standards at all.

By the time registration had mostly wrapped up, Yerin called for me.

The urgent work had gone quickly thanks to the entire guild throwing itself at it, and the documents with the rookies' personal information were already being carried to the Guild Master's office. Assigning manpower based on them was now the Guild Master's job.

"Hajun. A moment."

Her voice was deliberately businesslike, as if something important were coming.

I followed her into the office at the back of the hall. The door closed, she settled into her chair, and a few seconds passed—

"Hajun~♥"

The voice had completely changed.

Was this really the same person who'd sorted the entire guild into order with a single sentence?

Yerin lounged back against her chair, corner of her mouth curling up, and beckoned with one finger.

"Why on earth are you trying to work the second you're back? You're supposed to rest. Come here."

"...Lock the door?"

"It's closed already, isn't it. Nobody's coming in even unlocked—everyone's too busy tiptoeing around me."

Yerin gave a soft laugh.

"What, scared someone might hear?"

"...The guild members are right outside. There's a lot of rookies too."

"Then keep your voice down."

She beckoned again. Come here.

Out of options, I walked to the desk. Yerin snatched my hand and pulled. I didn't feel like she'd used any real strength, yet my upper body tipped toward her anyway.

"Your hands are cold."

She trapped my hand between both of hers and studied it slowly.

"Standing outside all through the small hours. Our Hajun worked so hard."

"...It's only one day a year."

"Still, hard work is hard work."

Without letting go of my hand, Yerin tilted her head slightly.

"What should I give my puppy as a reward? Should I do it with my hand?"

She playfully raised her other hand, cupped it in midair, and mimed stroking slowly up and down.

I knew I was supposed to shut this down, but when she got like this, I was helpless too. I tried to pull my hand free—and failed. In that instant, Yerin laced her fingers through mine.

"...Yerin."

"Yes?"

"Actual work talk."

"I'm doing it."

She waved our interlocked fingers around, perfectly serene. "So... the rookies are over a hundred?"

Her mouth was on work, but her hand hadn't let go. I already knew that when Yerin was like this, she had no intention of talking work at all.

The only way through was to change the subject.

I started to sigh, then—remembering, conveniently—pulled out my tumbler with my free hand.

"...The tumbler. Jaehyuk took a sip."

"What? That bastard!?"

"I couldn't stop him. Too fast."

"Ugh, he's lost all sense of fear. Fine—I was thirsty anyway, hand it over."

Yerin finally let go of my hand and took the tumbler. Then, without a care in the world, she twisted the lid open and brought it to her lips.

If she knew Jaehyuk's mouth had been on it, she'd at least rinse it first.

Yerin didn't seem to give it a second's thought. Thirsty, apparently—one sip, then another.

I was the one whose nerves it was getting to.

"...That thing."

"Hm?"

"...Nothing."

What was the point of saying it? Bringing it up would be childish, but pretending I hadn't seen meant my eyes kept drifting to the mouth of that tumbler.

Yerin, oblivious, set the tumbler down and looked straight at me.

"...Let's talk work."

"I've been trying to for a while now."

Yerin curled her lips and set the tumbler down on the desk with a click. "Fine, then. Properly. Guild Master mode."

At that one sentence, the atmosphere turned serious. The hand-play stopped, and though it wasn't the full Guild Master, her face was back in work mode. Few people could toggle on and off that freely.

"Hah... Anyway, it's been a while since we've taken in this many at once. I genuinely didn't see it coming. If we leave them alone, someone's going to get hurt. We need to put the probation system in motion immediately."

"The three-month program?"

"Yeah. We group the rookies in fours and attach one veteran guild member from HQ as a team leader to each group. Last year the numbers were small enough for nearly one-on-one, but not this time. The expedition is out beyond the Korun range right now, so we're short on hands. For now, team leaders take their groups around and teach them for three months—ability manifestation, basic combat, demon beast response, survival rules. Just getting through that course sends survival rates way up."

"What about the lifestyle-type espers, and anyone who doesn't much want to fight—should we move them into Settler roles fast? Word from Jaehyuk is that the Settlers are shorthanded too."

"That's the way to go. Give it a month and some of them will shift into Settler roles on their own; then we merge the groups that lose members."

It was rational. As always.

Yerin spread out the rookie roster. "Let's start with group assignments. We can't go by abilities yet—no way to check. So we go by the people. Who fits with whom so things run smoothly."

And her hand began moving fast.

"Ri Gwangcheol—North Korean, I see? He's the hardest case for adaptation, so team leader is Kim Yonghyun. Kind, patient. Fill out his group with other North Korean rookies so he's not lonely."

"William?"

I tapped the roster. "The... Jeolla Black guy."

"Ah, that unusual one."

Yerin chuckled. "Gwangju-born, apparently. They say the admin team completely lost it during his registration. But why is his name William?"

"First case I've ever seen. His parents immigrated to Korea, and he grew up there. Apparently he can't speak a word of English?"

"Really? A perfect mood-maker, then. One of these in a group and the whole thing comes alive..."

Yerin skimmed the roster, then tapped one slot with her pen. "Put him in Jaehyuk's group."

"Jaehyuk's? Well, he is stuck teaching rookies too now. They'd probably get along great."

"Mm. Even if Jaehyuk's mouth is rough, he's actually good at handling people. Two mood-makers together will be loud and get along just fine."

It really did seem like the most entertaining combination imaginable, paired with someone like William.

"And no worrying about him causing trouble. He knows where the line is. All talk, that one—he never crosses the line that actually matters."

That was true too. As light as Jaehyuk seemed, Yerin and I had watched him for years from close by. We already knew he wasn't that kind of guy.

"That's... fair."

Assignments proceeded smoothly after that. I just helped from the sidelines, marveling at Yerin's eye for people. From the barest passing information, she picked out precisely who belonged where.

Then, at one name, her pen stopped—just for an instant.

"...Lee Seoyun."

"Hm?"

"Here. It says Lee Seoyun."

I flinched, but didn't let it show.

Yerin tapped the name on the roster with her fingertip, one tap, two.

There was no way a rookie with looks that striking had escaped Yerin's notice.

"Did you see her face?"

The kind of question I probably shouldn't answer honestly. She asked without lifting her eyes from the roster. Her voice was somehow a touch slower than usual.

"...What does she look like?"

"The most eye-catching one at the plaza. You must have seen her."

In other words—the prettiest one. There ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was no way she'd missed her, and she surely knew exactly who I was talking about.

Something about the mood made me feel that admitting I'd seen her would complicate things, so I watched Yerin for a tell—but she just kept staring at the roster with a blank expression.

"Hard to say. There were so many people this time."

"...I see?"

Yerin answered curtly. That one short reply trailed off in a way that made it impossible to tell whether she believed me or not.

Then her pen started moving again. "This girl... put her in Jaehyuk's group too."

"Jaehyuk's?"

I echoed without meaning to. William was one thing—but of all places, that one?

"Why not? The slot fits, doesn't it?"

"No, it's not that—"

The words caught in my throat. I remembered the way Jaehyuk had looked at her, but there was no way to explain that to Yerin. Explaining it would mean starting from the fact that I'd been studying her closely myself.

"...It's just, the group doesn't seem like a great fit. Jaehyuk goes hard after girls. Won't that cause problems?"

"No need to worry so much. Sure, he chases, but he also gets along well with girls. William loosens things up, Jaehyuk leads. The quieter girls actually settle in better in groups like this one, in my experience."

Yerin drew a line through the roster. Cleanly. Without a flicker of hesitation.

Could you think it over just one more time?

"Decision made. Lee Seoyun, Choi Jaehyuk's group."

It was too fast. The same person who'd been weighing each name with such care a moment ago had turned decisively abrupt, only for this one name.

Something about that snagged faintly in a corner of my mind. But I let the unease slide past.

"Then what about my group?"

"You?"

Yerin swept down the roster and bundled a few names together. "Yours is... these four."

"They're all guys?"

"Yeah, all guys."

She answered as if it were nothing.

"This way's easier on you. All men—nothing to worry about."

Then she paused mid-motion, pen lowered, and glanced up at me. "What. Don't tell me..."

"...What."

"Lee Hajun. You—"

Yerin narrowed her eyes. "—wanted girls in your group?"

"Where's that coming from? It's nothing like that. Easier for me, honestly."

My words had sped up slightly without my noticing.

"Right?"

Yerin's expression suddenly melted into a bright smile. "Because for a second there, I thought my boyfriend wanted to spend his probation period crammed in one room with young rookie girls who know nothing—bumping into them, washing alongside them, sleeping next to them, bonding all close and cozy. But surely not. Right?"

She was smiling as she said it. Her eyes were not.

"...Why would you imagine that."

"A joke. Just a joke."

Yerin waved her hand breezily. "I know better than anyone that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠our Hajun isn't that kind of man."

Then her gaze dropped back to the roster. The pen scratched on.

The four names bound together on my group's list, looking up at me. All men.

What was that look just now? It was supposedly a joke, but for a moment my spine had gone cold.

This was always how it went—standing in front of Yerin on these matters made me tense up.

Glancing sideways, I looked at the top of the roster.

And as I read those words, my mind began drawing pictures all on its own, without permission.

Three months of probation. Five people bound into one group, eating together, sleeping together, fighting together. I'd wondered whether the team leader even needed to room with them, but leave the rookies to their own devices and there was no telling what might happen. And so, beyond simply staying together, three months later they'd be people who entrusted each other with their lives.

I knew exactly what that felt like. Yerin and I had been there too.

Year one. No guild, no system, dropped into a world where we couldn't make ourselves understood. The two of us stuck together through all of it.

Chasing demon beasts for magic stones and hiding in caves to escape them. Splitting what little food we had. I remembered the day we crossed a winter mountain—no tent, not even a blanket. We both knew that if your body temperature dropped, you died. So we pressed our backs together, and later faced each other, sharing warmth through the night.

Back then it was pure survival. Looking back, though—that was when everything changed between us. Closeness turns even people you dislike into something near. How much more, then, someone you care for...

I set my pen down with a click.

"What's wrong?"

Yerin looked up. "...Nothing. Nothing at all."

What am I doing, agonizing over someone else's group assignments.

I forced the pictures out of my head. Forcing didn't actually erase them, but I decided to consider them erased.

Yerin tidied the roster and rose from her seat.

"All right, work talk's over."

Then she smiled, perched herself on the edge of the desk, and beckoned with a curl of her finger.

"Now, where were we? Our Hajun—time to take those pants off."

"No, no. One last thing left."