Churu for the Angry Guide

2

A subtle tension spread across the faces of the bodyguards surrounding the Baekya Guild after the interview. Having only dealt with celebrities before, they approached their duties with more rigid expressions than usual.

Their task was simple: to safely guide the Baekya Guild from the broadcast set to the underground parking lot. The only precaution was to refrain from any behavior that might irritate them.

“Ah, I’m sorry.”

One of the bodyguards, while guiding the way, accidentally bumped his chin against Ha Seojun’s broad shoulder. He hastily stepped back and bowed deeply in apology. He felt even more apologetic because he had already bumped into him once when moving to the set.

“No, I should be the one apologizing.”

Seojun bowed his head along with the bodyguard and waved his hand. He hunched his excessively broad shoulders and blushed. He seemed embarrassed by his body, which was twice the size of others.

“Is your chin okay?”

Contrary to the atmosphere he exuded, Seojun showed an unexpectedly careful and polite attitude. Deeply impressed by this, the bodyguard responded with a nod. He wanted to engage in conversation, but it was their work rule to give only minimal responses.

This was to protect the sensitive hearing of the Espers. It was known that Espers, with their completely different physiology from ordinary people, had very acute hearing. Not just hearing, but all five senses were sensitive.

These ability users, who could fly and handle utility poles or large trucks like children’s toys, had abnormally heightened senses. As a result, many were known to have sensitive temperaments and aggressive tendencies. However, the Baekya Guild was… a bit different.

“Our maknae is quite big. He’s over 2 meters tall, you know.”

“Hyung, I’m not over that.”

Jihan stood on his tiptoes and put his arm around Seojun’s shoulder. The bodyguards watched the two joking around while maintaining their poker faces.

“Not over? If we round up, wouldn’t it be over?”

“I’m not that tall. You’re just short, hyung.”

The bodyguards tensed their jaws at Seojun’s timid yet spot-on retort. At a loss for words, Jihan made a sad face and asked a nearby agent if he was short.

How could an Esper be short? Even women averaged over 175cm in height, so Jihan was by no means short. He was just the shortest within the Baekya Guild.

“If only you’d talk like this during interviews. When are you going to overcome your camera phobia?”

Jihan laughed playfully as he messed up Seojun’s carefully styled hair. Seojun had gone to the hair salon at the crack of dawn, not realizing the broadcasting station had already prepared stylists.

He had spent his own money without knowing. Despite being the most nervous, he seemed the most excited about appearing on TV. He truly acted like the youngest member.

“I’m sorry for letting you do all the talking, hyung. I’ll do better next time.”

Seojun sighed dejectedly as he fiddled with the escalator handrail. Even though he had taken ten Cheong-Sim-Hwan pills before filming, he couldn’t seem to shake off his nervousness. Nevertheless, he had never once refused to film.

“You did much better than before,” the bodyguard who had bumped his chin on Seojun’s shoulder whispered very softly. Seojun, who wouldn’t miss even the faintest sound, blushed slightly, while Jihan playfully disagreed. At this, other bodyguards also chimed in, telling Seojun he did well.

“Yoo Jihan.”

Just as the tense atmosphere began to ease, a low, deep voice cut through the conversation.

“Lower your voice.”

Kang Taebeom, the leader of the Baekya Guild, who was standing at the front with the head of the security team, turned around. The broadcasting staff waiting for the Baekya Guild to come down to the lobby immediately lowered their eyes upon hearing his voice. The group of bodyguards also quickly wiped off their smiles and tensed up again.

Jihan, who had just stepped off the escalator, responded with a “Yes,” and made a gesture of zipping his mouth shut while smiling. Seojun, though his name wasn’t called, tightly closed his mouth.

A long silence followed until the Baekya Guild boarded the large van. Even the talkative Jihan only hummed quietly after the leader’s brief word, and the youngest, Seojun, even muted his breathing.

The bodyguards who witnessed this inwardly marveled at Kang Taebeom’s aura. They thought this level of presence was indeed necessary to be the leader of a high-ranking guild.

The Baekya Guild, in particular, was a very special team.

It included two Esper beast-humans, who were difficult to control. According to center regulations, only one beast-human was supposed to be assigned to a team, but the Baekya Guild was an exception with two.

Ha Seojun and Kang Geonho, who didn’t appear on today’s broadcast, were both Esper beast-humans and considered dangerous elements requiring intensive management.

Everyone had opposed putting these two in the same guild, considering it a very risky decision. However, the decision was not overturned due to the strong insistence of Taebeom, the creator and leader of the Baekya Guild.

As a result, the Baekya Guild resolved the gate saturation state in just a year and a half, saving countless lives. A rookie guild that had just been formed solved a problem that seasoned high-ranking guilds couldn’t resolve in decades.

In just a year and a half, not even ten years.

“Wow, the leader’s voice is insane.”

“Yoo Jihan is no joke either. Why does he smile like that? Is he even human?”

“Is no one a fan of Ha Seojun? Am I the only one?”

The bodyguards who had seen off the Baekya Guild as they boarded the large van unleashed the chatter they had been holding back. Everyone, regardless of age, acted immaturely and made a fuss.

It was understandable. The popularity of the Baekya Guild, who had saved the country, was incomparable to that of celebrities.

“Are there no more scheduled broadcasts? I’ll cry if they change the security company.”

“Why cry? Just change jobs.”

“Team leader, you heard Kang Taebeom’s voice up close, right? How was it?”

As they moved to the smoking area, their conversation topic never strayed from the Baekya Guild. The taciturn team leader quietly put a cigarette in his mouth. Having been in the security business for over 20 years, he exuded a gravitas not unlike the Espers.

Someone whispered behind him that the team leader was a fan of the youngest, Seojun. The team leader didn’t deny it.

“Achoo!”

Seojun, leaning his chair back slightly, sneezed and wiped his nose. Jihan opened the window a bit and handed a tissue to Seojun, who had a dust allergy.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcob,” Jihan exaggeratedly mimicked Seojun’s nasally voice and giggled as he reached for a water bottle. He was looking for more water despite having already emptied two bottles. He seemed thirsty from talking the most today.

“Good work today as well.”

The dedicated secretary of the Baekya Guild, who had been waiting in the van, passed a new water bottle to the back while speaking. He was a retired Esper due to past injuries and had been a training partner with the leader, Taebeom. He had been with the Baekya Guild since its early days.

“I thought I said not to take questions about beast-humans.”

The secretary made a ‘here we go again’ expression at the leader’s first words upon entering the car. If it hadn’t been a live broadcast, he would have stopped the recording when the MC asked about ‘cat beast-humans’. He wished he could have barged onto the set and muzzled the MC.

“Well… we thought it would be fine since it wasn’t directly related to us. Questions about cat beast-humans are quite common. But we’ve given sufficient warnings.”

The secretary hastily added, watching the leader’s expression. It was obvious why they were harping on about ‘cat beast-humans’ who weren’t even present. If the leader had answered smoothly, it would have led to deeper questions. Knowing this, the leader kept his mouth shut till the end.

“This won’t happen again. And there are no broadcast schedules for a while, so don’t worry.”

“For a while?”

A sharp gaze pierced the secretary checking the schedule on his tablet PC. The secretary tried his best to pretend he didn’t see it and kept his eyes fixed on the tablet screen.

“Are your eyes just for show?”

Taebeom, sitting alone in the front seat, threw the calendar provided in the van at the secretary. The words ‘Last Broadcast’ were clearly written in red on today’s date.

The secretary swallowed dryly, trying not to show it, and answered in a small voice.

“That’s right. It’s the last one. The last broadcast of this month.”

“Stop the car.”

At Taebeom’s curt order, the startled driver glanced at the secretary sitting in the passenger seat. He couldn’t stop the car as they had already entered the highway. Fortunately.

“Then just you get off.”

Taebeom nodded towards the secretary. The secretary clutched his seatbelt tightly with an aggrieved expression.

“The scheduled broadcasts won’t change even if I disappear.”

“Just get off.”

“What’s the big deal? Let’s just do it. I enjoy the broadcasts.”

Jihan, who had emptied his third water bottle, intervened. Seojun also cautiously added, “Me too…” He didn’t really enjoy it, but he wanted to do well with the already scheduled appointments.

“It’s much more fun than cleaning up corpses and slaying monsters. Don’t you agree?”

Seojun, deeply agreeing with Jihan’s words, nodded his head vigorously. Their secretary also looked much brighter now compared to when he was supporting gate removal missions. It was a natural change, having escaped from life-and-death missions.

“You prefer that, leader?”

Jihan, resting his arm on the back of Taebeom’s seat, asked slyly. He was also the same age as Taebeom and had known him since before their awakening, so he was much closer than the secretary. Taebeom didn’t admit it, but Jihan claimed they were best friends.

“That’s our job.”

The atmosphere momentarily sank at the leader’s low voice. He was always the one to pour cold water on things. Jihan and the secretary, accustomed to this, exchanged glances and carefully opened their mouths.

“We’re just saying let’s try other things too. When else can we do it if not now?”

“That’s right. They say the more our guild appears on broadcasts, the less anxious civilians become. In that sense, showing our faces at least once a month—”

The secretary stopped speaking as he felt Taebeom’s piercing gaze. He cautiously suggested, “Once every two months?” but only received criticism for not having gotten off yet.

This is bad. The secretary’s sigh deepened as he flipped through the tablet PC screen. There was still a score he hadn’t delivered.

“And… ahem.”

Seeing him clear his throat, the three anticipated the upcoming announcement. It wasn’t surprising news.

“We still haven’t found a new dedicated guide.”

It was just devastating.