Chapter 6: Memories Of Past

Bodam still remembers.

It was before Han Seungho became the leader of Attack Team 3, and Bodam was still a student in uniform, not yet a guide. He could never forget the day he saw the trending news about Korea’s first ever healing-type esper awakening.

Not only did the son of a high-ranking Ministry of Defense official awaken before even reaching adulthood, but he had also become the very first healing-type esper ever recorded.

The country was in a frenzy. And on top of that, he could even use barrier abilities—a dual-type esper.

Bodam, who never cared about the news, sat side-by-side with his younger sibling—someone he usually wouldn’t even share a meal with—and watched the evening news together every day.

Not just news broadcasts, either. He read every internet article and picked up street papers just to follow the latest on this rare ability user.

It was his first time stanning someone.

The first ever in Korea. A rare ability user gaining national attention. He was already unusually tall, standing at a whopping 185cm when he entered high school.

The headlines were jaw-dropping. Especially for Bodam, who was obsessed with height. When rumors circulated that his height had reached into the 190s, Bodam actually applauded.

They were records Bodam couldn’t even dream of reaching.

Back then, he naïvely assumed that espers just naturally grew tall, so he even wrote “esper” as his dream job in a career survey—and ended up getting called in for a chat with his homeroom teacher.

Apparently, violent kids were the ones who usually wanted to become espers.

Thanks to his friend Yun-Pig and her legendary internet-stalking skills, Bodam learned the name of the healing-type esper: Han Seungho.

Even his name sounded cool. Just the three syllables evoked an image of a tall, mature man with a story to tell. Compared to that, Bodam thought his own name sounded way too childish—it actually pissed him off.

He once asked his sibling if “Yun Dam” wouldn’t sound cooler, only to get scolded: “Do you think the name’s the problem?”

Faced with Han Seungho’s life, just three years older than his own, Bodam shrank back in silence.

More than anything, Bodam envied his ability.

Every time he got knocked around by his younger sibling’s punches, his body flopping about like paper, Bodam felt certain he’d never awaken as an esper.

He had no real interest in superpowers—no point in longing for what you’d never have. But the healing ability… he truly wanted that one.

His yearning for healing abilities grew into passionate admiration and affection for the esper he’d never even seen in person.

He saved every news article and picture of Han Seungho in his phone album and read them to the point they were worn out.

He imagined it all: the sturdy body and demeanor befitting a soldier’s son, the calm presence of someone with a rare ability, and the pure white uniforms that symbolized the healing class.

Even when Seungho was demoted from A-rank to B-rank, and the public’s interest—along with offers from overseas—died down, Bodam continued supporting him.

So when Bodam awakened as an A-rank guide upon becoming an adult, half the reason he applied to the notoriously strict Center Headquarters was Han Seungho. Maybe, just maybe, he’d get to see him at least once.

The thrill of working in the same organization as someone he once stanned lasted exactly one week.

“I saw Han Seungho in person last time the Gate in Zone 2 burst. His personality’s something else. Walked right past someone who was about to die.”

“That’s not new. Everyone knows he only heals officials. If you’re not a VIP, forget it. Whatever, he’s hot.”

Bodam, who had instinctively perked up at hearing the familiar name, ended up learning the reality of the man behind it. So this was why people always said: stan from a distance.

All that excitement vanished in an instant, and the disappointment was indescribable.

That was also the year Attack Team 3 was formed—bringing together S-rank esper Taehwan, who had just joined the Center like Bodam, and A-rank esper Min Jiho, who was rich and problematic.

Han Seungho was appointed team leader, tasked with managing the notoriously difficult Taehwan and the controversy magnet Jiho.

Inside the Center, people joked that putting all the sharp personalities together meant they’d just end up killing each other. But surprisingly, they got along well. That’s why, for six years, not a single team member was replaced.

And that’s how the one vacant guide position on Attack Team 3 ended up being filled by Bodam. If only one of them had messed up badly enough to get arrested before then.

“Min Jiho’s shoes.”

The moment he stepped into the waiting room, Seungho commented on the shoe count. Even in a room heated to 38 degrees Celsius, his voice sounded cold.

With crisp footsteps, the team leader entered the kitchen and made coffee before sitting at the table. While the machine ground the beans, Jiho lazily kicked off his dress shoes, flinging them toward the entryway.

Thump.

The glossy shoes landed neatly, and a pair of slippers bearing Jiho’s mom’s brand logo flew to his feet. Taehwan’s telekinesis, while violent toward Bodam, was gentle toward his older teammates.

A warm coffee scent filled the room. Holding a plain white cup, Seungho took the seat at the head of the table, and the clock struck exactly 9 a.m.

It was time for the weekly Friday morning meeting.

No one seemed to care that their youngest, Ijun, wasn’t present—as usual.

After taking a sip of coffee, Seungho began the meeting like always, keeping his eyes fixed on Taehwan and Jiho. It was as if the right side of the table, where Bodam sat, didn’t even exist.

Bodam, now used to being treated like air, just wiped his nose quietly. For some reason, whenever he got sick, old memories crawled back up.

Every time people mocked Seungho for being the “first healing-type esper” yet only B-rank, Bodam remembered his own embarrassing history of defending him. He should’ve just let them drag him.

The guy he once imagined with angel wings turned out to be a cold psychopath.

“Cough.”

Bodam’s sudden cough cut off Seungho mid-sentence as he was discussing the expansion of Attack Team 3’s jurisdiction.

Taehwan, slouching with his chin in hand, and Jiho, arms crossed with a bored scowl, both shot daggers his way.

Bodam quickly covered his mouth and lowered his head, stealing a glance at the team leader. The hot, dry air was making his dry cough worse.

“S-Sorry. Ahem, sssrghhh.”

Trying to suppress it only made it worse. Bodam ended up making an even weirder sound, and had to clamp his hand over his entire face. Red all the way to his knuckles, Bodam was practically turning into a tomato.

Taehwan grimaced from across the table.

“What the hell is wrong with him?”

“Kick him out. That f*cker’s ruining the meeting.”

As if one little cough had ruined everything.

Bodam was pissed. It was just one cough—he’d even tried to hold it back. Still covering his face, his eyes glared through the cracks between his fingers.

“Who’s taking your guiding?”

Seungho, not sparing a glance at the now tomato-faced guide, asked.

“I’ll take it.”

Taehwan immediately replied. Unless it was an emergency, priority for guiding went to whoever claimed it first.

“Then send him to your room.”

“No.”

Bodam quickly cut in. The way Seungho worded it, like he was sending off a package, pissed him off. He didn’t want to be hauled around by Taehwan’s telekinesis again.

“I-I’ll go. Myself.”

Putting all his effort into enunciating clearly, Bodam stood up and fixed his eyes straight down the hallway. He refused to stagger.

He didn’t want to look weak—not in front of espers who already saw him as a crybaby, a pushover, a pathetic excuse for a guide.

Even just walking from the table to the hallway left him breathless. It wasn’t because he was weak—it was the stupidly large waiting room meant for just four people.

The fever he thought had gone down was creeping back up, and he kept leaning to one side.

Clicking his tongue, Taehwan tried to lift Bodam up with his telekinesis, but Seungho cast a barrier around Bodam before he could.

“Leave him.”

Seungho blocked the attempt. His cold gaze landed on the chair and mug Bodam had forgotten to clean up.

“He’ll get spoiled.”

At those words, Bodam froze. He hadn’t even reached Taehwan’s door yet, but he stopped walking.

Seungho clearly heard the pause but continued the meeting without missing a beat.

“Either we expand our gate control like now, or branch out to civilian areas to help capture unregistered espers. HQ wants us to offload Zone 2 to Team 1.

You guys pick. We’re not moving as a unit. Kang Ijun will stay on his current assignment.”

After speaking for the absent youngest, Seungho waited for Taehwan and Jiho to answer.

Leaning his body slightly toward the hallway, Taehwan rested his arm on the chair and asked,

“If we split with Team 1, which areas?”

“Seoul or Busan. Either way, I’ll be there on support.”

“F*cking great.”

Jiho, legs elegantly crossed, slammed the table.

Then he yelled down the hallway at Bodam.

“Hey! Did you die on the way there?”

That would’ve been nice. Unfortunately, Bodam was still breathing. He looked up at the ceiling and exhaled a dry, ragged sigh.

“Team leader.”

His voice was hoarse—beyond hoarse. And still, the man who told him he was getting “spoiled” had the nerve to respond with,

“If you’ve got something to say, come say it to my face.”