I am a Guide Who Killed an Esper.

“More unfamiliar faces mean the organization is stagnating.”

A passing resident interrupted the conversation. Yoonui chuckled heartily.

“Well, if anything, I’m not stagnant water—I’m rotten water.”

“Agreed.”

It had been almost 20 years since Yoonui was registered at the headquarters after being graded as an A-class guide in the aptitude test taken upon entering middle school. He had been in his first field deployment at the age of 19, and his pure service years alone already added up to 12. A full zodiac cycle had passed. With an average tenure much shorter in the Central Crisis Management Headquarters, he was undoubtedly considered a veteran.

Had he continued with fieldwork at the center, he might have been dead, resigned, or stagnant water for some other reason by now. However, due to certain circumstances, he had been reassigned to administrative work, which allowed him to extend his service years safely. Yoonui counted his years of service on his fingers.

“So, I’ve clocked 10 years now. That qualifies me for a pension, right?”

“Why? Are you planning to leave?”

“Who knows? If I end up killing another Esper in the field, I might be forced to leave even if I don’t want to.”

Yoonui’s dark humor came without warning, causing the resident’s face to stiffen. Across from him, Woojoo struggled to figure out whether to laugh or not, his expression betraying his uncertainty. It was okay to laugh, really. Though Yoonui slightly regretted his failed joke, there was no taking back what was already said.

“…I should just get to work.”

The resident, unable to salvage the mood, returned to his desk with an awkward expression.

It was 8:58 AM. Two minutes before the start of the workday, Jungwoo, sporting a blue lanyard and a cheerful demeanor, arrived. Oh. Yoonui mentally whistled. He had been feeling a little down that morning, but seeing someone as bright and courteous as Jungwoo appear at just the right time lifted his spirits.

“Let’s have a good day.”

“Yes, sir. Hopefully, we’ll get through the day without a single deployment.”

“Agreed.”

But the Espers whose names appeared on the monitor’s list weren’t anyone Yoonui was happy to see.

With two of them boasting double-digit unauthorized absence records, could they really make it through the day without a single deployment? Sipping the now half-cold coffee, Yoonui leaned deeply into his chair.

“Get back by 10, you punks…”

Once work hours officially began, the faint sound of megaphones, which had been lingering in the background, disappeared as if it had never existed. The protesters, it seemed, would be back next Thursday.

[Demand a Thorough Investigation into Missing Espers!]

The protesters’ voices gave one last shout in Yoonui’s ear before fading completely from his mind. Now, the only thing occupying his thoughts were the absentees who had yet to return.

The missing and the absent.

Though they sounded similar, the absentees managed by the Human Resources Team were different from the missing individuals the protesters referred to. Missing Espers were those who had gone into combat and hadn’t returned. Even those whose bodies were recovered weren’t considered missing. Only those who had entered a gate and never returned, in any form, were labeled missing in the system.

By comparison, absentees were relatively harmless. They were simply those who had left their assigned zones or bases without returning by the scheduled time. These were individuals who had filed for leave, stating when they’d return, but failed to do so by the agreed time. The term “absentees” was just a polite administrative label.

Yoonui had long argued that “absentees” was too mild a term and suggested it be replaced with “reckless idiots.” Unfortunately, the term’s aggressive tone meant it had yet to gain traction.

“Do they think we have endless energy to clock in on time every day…?”

While one might expect more absentees during the night shift, the truth was that the daytime shift had the lowest punctual return rate. Most Espers, who made up the majority of absentees, were lazy individuals oversleeping or dawdling in the morning, their mental discipline evidently lacking.

The higher-ups’ leniency only exacerbated the issue.

Years ago, Espers’ leave was strictly controlled, granted only after completing a gate mission. These days, however, they could file for leave almost weekly without entering a gate. Unsurprisingly, the number of absentees had increased exponentially. How could discipline exist among those who treated leave like daily meals?

Thirty minutes before the return deadline, Yoonui refreshed the list. The obedient ones had already returned, but about ten names still had the ominous red “absent” status.

“Jungwoo, we’ll have to start sending out summons.”

“Yes, sir.”

Listening to Jungwoo making return calls to the Espers, Jeong Yoonui began contacting the guides listed on his screen, starting with the ones he recognized and had prior interactions with.

“Hey, Kang Yunyeong. You overslept again, didn’t you?”

― “Ah, Senior! I swear, I’ll be there in 15 minutes! I promise!”

“If you’re late again today, you know your leave will be restricted for a month, right?”

― “Senior! I’m really just 15 minutes away! I promise!”

“I’m giving you exactly 15 minutes. If you’re not back by then, I’ll come to get you myself. Understand?”

― “Don’t worry, I’ll be there!”

The call ended abruptly without so much as a goodbye, the sound of heavy breathing suggesting Kang Yunyeong was already running. Clicking his tongue, Jeong Yoonui moved on to the next guide.

Once he had called all the names he recognized, only unfamiliar juniors with clean records remained. Adjusting his tone, he dialed the next guide.

“Hello, Jang Seoyoung. This is Administrative Officer Jeong Yoonui from the Personnel Management Team. I noticed you were scheduled to return from leave by 10 AM, but you haven’t checked in yet, so I wanted to follow up.”

― “Oh, yes! I’m on my way back now—I’m in a taxi!”

“Alright, please make sure you return on time.”

― “Yes, understood!”

The call with the guide ended smoothly and without any friction.

While some guides occasionally overslept or ran late, they generally respected return times and made an effort to comply. Even when summoned, they were polite. Perhaps it was because guides, at some point in their careers, transitioned into administrative roles themselves, making them reluctant to clash with the personnel management team.

Espers, however, were a different story.

“Hello, Senior Kwon Taehyuk. This is Jungwoo from the Personnel Management Team.”

― “You little punk! What, do you think I don’t know how to tell time? Who gave you the nerve to call your senior? I’ll return when I return!”

“Yes, sir, I understand. It’s just part of our routine procedures to confirm—”

― “What class are you from?”

“Me? I’m Class 21—”

― “Back in my day, we handled things just fine without all these systems! Do you think we didn’t take leave just because there wasn’t paperwork back then?”

The call ended abruptly, without any indication of when Kwon would return. Jeong Yoonui clicked his tongue.

“Why did you bother answering his questions?”

“He asked, so…”

“You’re too nice, kid.”

Espers, especially those stationed in the field with little interaction with the personnel team, were notoriously sensitive to being contacted.

Maybe it was an occupational hazard, but most Espers had volatile tempers and sharp tongues. Add to that a strange superiority complex and a martyrdom mindset, as if they were the only ones keeping the country safe.

They carried unfounded biases, assuming that administrative staff spent their days leisurely printing documents, stapling papers, and sweet-talking their way to quick promotions. This baseless arrogance and victim mentality led them to dismiss personnel management staff as peers. Even routine calls were treated as unwarranted meddling.

Jeong Yoonui patted Jungwoo on the shoulder sympathetically.

“Don’t take it personally. All Espers are crazy.”

“But… I’m an Esper too.”

“Yeah, and you’re crazy too.”

“…Right.”

With a resigned nod, Jungwoo deflated slightly as Jeong Yoonui gave him a comforting pat. He then turned back to the list of absentees.

By 9:55 AM, Jang Seoyoung had returned. By 9:57, Park Gangho checked in. At 9:58, Kang Yunyeong made it back. By 9:59, even Kwon “that bastard” clocked in, barely (much to Jeong Yoonui’s annoyance).

Two names, however, still had red lights next to them.

When the clock struck 10 AM, Jeong Yoonui promptly selected all and hit the “Report Absentees” button without hesitation. Espers wouldn’t get even a second of leniency. He had already geared up for deployment five minutes earlier, knowing this outcome was inevitable.

“Alright, Jungwoo. Let’s head out.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good luck out there!”

Woojoo lazily waved over the partition as the two prepared to leave. With a cheerful goodbye, Jeong Yoonui linked arms with Jungwoo.

Jungwoo was one of the rare Espers with teleportation abilities. A faint white glow began to outline his body as he activated his power. The light extended along Jeong Yoonui’s frame as well, enveloping both of them. Once the ability was charged, Jeong Yoonui called out their destination coordinates as part of the mission protocol.

“Personnel Management Team, Jeong Yoonui and Park Jungwoo. Deploying to secure an absentee Esper. Target 1, coordinates 36.255.28.4.”

“Coordinates confirmed: 36.255.28.4.”

“Initiate teleportation.”

“Teleporting now.”

In an instant, Jungwoo’s power activated, and they teleported to the designated location—a bar in Seoul.

Upon arrival, Jeong Yoonui immediately identified the Esper and pulled out a pair of handcuffs.

This wasn’t their first encounter. The Esper’s double-digit absence record made this a familiar routine. Without pleasantries or explanations, Jeong Yoonui cuffed the wrist of the Esper slumped over the table.

“Esper 3657, you are under arrest under military law for unauthorized absence.”

“…Damn it. Not you again, Jeong Yoonui.”

The man’s slurred speech and flushed face made it obvious he’d been drinking heavily until dawn and passed out at the bar.

Feeling awkward, Jungwoo placed his hand over the cuffs. A white glow surrounded the Esper and the handcuffs, signaling another activation of his ability. Moments later, the absentee was teleported straight to the detention center.