I am a Guide Who Killed an Esper.

No matter how desperately a rampaging Esper might cry for help, it was still someone else’s problem for those in the back office. Yoonui, with a sigh, pulled his guide ID out of his pocket and tossed it onto the corner of his desk.

“It’s not like the folks at the center would roll out the red carpet for me if I went.”

“I’ll just go dump the leftover broth,” Jungwoo replied nonchalantly.

And so the third emergency call came and went.

By now, someone should have responded, yet the guide ID’s light continued to flash stubbornly. Including the time the two had stepped out of the office for fresh air, this was already the sixth call.

Both of them stared at the guide ID vibrating violently on the desk, as if it were having a seizure.

“…”

“…”

“…Do you think it’s really urgent?”

“…You should probably check it out.”

“Ha… why does it have to be the secure zone? I’m so exhausted—”

“I’ll send you,” Jungwoo interrupted curtly.

Before Yoonui could finish his complaint, he found himself unceremoniously teleported to an isolated hallway.

He didn’t need to double-check the coordinates or consult a directory. The location was too familiar to him.

“The training grounds….”

He had landed in the Talent Development Team’s training facility for minors with abilities—a place where he himself had spent six years training after middle school. He knew its layout like the back of his hand.

And at this hour, when minors strictly adhered to their 10 PM curfew and 10 AM attendance, there was only one training ground still in use.

“Good evening—”

As he unlocked the door to the special training ground, he was greeted by a scene of pure chaos. For a moment, he thought he’d stumbled into an emergency call for firefighters instead of guides. The flames were that intense.

The heat slammed into him like a wall, instantly making it hard to breathe. The air burned his throat, parching it painfully, while the acrid smell of smoke stung his nose.

At the center of the inferno stood a man, engulfed by flames as if he had deliberately set himself on fire. He stood rigid, trembling uncontrollably as his own ability spiraled out of control.

Ah. So it’s him.

Wow, he’s tall.

Yoonui recognized him at a glance. The newly manifested S-class Esper who had only been detected after reaching adulthood. He couldn’t recall his name—it was someone else’s department, after all—but this was undoubtedly the “flame Esper” that headquarters was pinning their hopes on for its upgrade to ministry status.

No wonder he was locked in a rampage in the training grounds usually reserved for younger Espers.

Shaking off his thoughts, Yoonui surveyed the guides surrounding the scene. They were all juniors, either fresh-faced or entirely unfamiliar, wearing fireproof gear but clearly unequipped to handle an S-class Esper. Their levels were too low, and their inexperience showed.

“Step back! Stop guiding! Turn it off—now!”

Clapping his hands sharply, Yoonui barked orders, stopping the panicked guides from making things worse.

Guiding had two main functions: to assist an Esper by amplifying their ability or to suppress their ability, forcing it to remain contained. The latter was what was needed here.

In typical scenarios, guiding aided an Esper’s physical and mental state, assisting in recovery. But during a rampage, reckless guiding only sped up the depletion of their power, causing fractures in their “vessel.”

Yoonui yelled at the confused guides, snapping them out of their daze.

“Wait for my signal, and then come in!”

After motioning for them to retreat, Yoonui calmly stepped into the flames. Without protective gear, his actions bordered on suicidal, but for someone as seasoned as Yoonui, this distance was still within the safe zone.

“Hoo….”

The closer he got to the fire, the more suffocating it became. His chest felt tight, and the roar of the flames devouring oxygen rang in his ears like a deafening roar.

The fire was massive—so intense that he couldn’t help but question what the four guides had been doing all this time.

But, thinking about it rationally, it wasn’t their fault. Most guides specialized in supporting and amplifying an Esper’s abilities, not suppressing them. Their guiding experience was focused on keeping abilities stable, not extinguishing a runaway inferno like this.

Suppressing an ability required a completely different approach. Without proper experience, it was impossible to handle.

Then again, if this really was an S-class rampage—well, not even a veteran A-class guide like Yoonui could handle it alone.

“I’m more used to guiding Espers to their deaths than saving them anyway.”

The only fortunate factor was that this S-class was a fledgling, barely able to control his powers. The rookie guides floundering around him hadn’t helped, either—they had only accelerated his power depletion, leaving him on the verge of burning out. Narrowing his eyes through the flames, Yoonui took in the situation.

Was his skin naturally pale? The ash coating his face obscured everything but the barest contours. His body was losing its color, and Yoonui knew well how flame-type Espers ended their rampages. He had seen it too many times—like living gasoline, they poured fire out of their bodies until their abilities were exhausted, and when that wasn’t enough, their own flesh became the fuel.

The faint scent of burning protein lingered in the air.

Whether it was an illusion or the man in front of him really was burning alive, the acrid stench of scorched flesh made Yoonui’s stomach churn. He steadied himself and extended his hand toward the man, focusing intently.

He locked his mind onto the target, his eyes fixed on the Esper, and visualized a wide net spreading outward from his palm, blanketing the flames. Breathing steadily, he concentrated until it felt as though the guiding energy was flowing from every fiber of his being.

Now.

Yoonui’s guiding energy coiled around the roots of the fire, pushing its way deeper into the source. His technique wasn’t about aiding recovery—it was sheer brute force, suppressing the Esper’s ability at its core to cut off the rampage entirely.

As his focus intensified, the flames began to flicker and fade at the man’s fingertips, crown, and ears—the most vulnerable points of release.

“Just stop already… damn it!”

Yoonui bit down hard on his lip. All the hype about a “true S-class” seemed accurate—this wasn’t just a fledgling with potential. The sheer persistence of his power was terrifying. No matter how much energy was depleted, it seemed inexhaustible, constantly pushing against Yoonui’s guiding energy as if desperate to devour its host. It was as if the flames themselves were screaming, trying to burn their owner alive.

Despite his best efforts, the flames writhed stubbornly. Yoonui had no choice but to move closer to the source.

He heard faint cries from behind him. The closer he got to the inferno, the harder it was to breathe. His lungs burned, and sweat evaporated as soon as it formed, leaving his skin stinging and raw. The acrid smoke scratched at his throat and stung his nose until it felt like he was inhaling needles.

When he saw his hair beginning to singe, turning brown at the tips, the thought of dying there—right in a training ground meant for middle schoolers—briefly crossed his mind. But he dismissed it immediately.

Dying in this place? Not a chance.

“Pull yourself together, kid!”

The man looked to be almost 190 centimeters tall, but with control this sloppy, “kid” felt appropriate. Glaring at the broad shoulders dusted with ash, Yoonui gathered every ounce of his energy.

This was a battle of control—a test of dominance between abilities.

No matter the difference in rank, Yoonui was an A-class ace with over 12 years of experience. He wasn’t about to lose a control fight to a rookie, even if that rookie was an S-class. He focused intently on the blazing “giant lighter” in front of him, pulling his scattered energy into a single point and enveloping the raging power in an iron grip.

It was a controlled burst of his own ability—a temporary but overwhelming suppression.

“…Ah.”

Finally, a reaction. A husky groan escaped the man as consciousness began to return. His white lashes, heavy with ash, fluttered faintly. With the return of awareness came a degree of control, and the flames instantly weakened.

Now.

Yoonui unleashed the last of his energy, fully encasing the Esper’s body in a tightly woven guiding net. With the release sealed off, the flames began to die out, starting at the edges and collapsing inward.

This was the moment for the rookie guides to step in with auxiliary guiding. Without even looking back, Yoonui gestured for them to join. It wasn’t for dramatic effect—he genuinely didn’t have the strength left to turn his head. He cursed the fact that guides couldn’t guide one another.

The rookies poured in with their support, and after a long moment, the white ash-covered figure in front of him began to move. Slowly, the man brushed the accumulated soot off his body, revealing his face and form beneath—a charred but remarkably well-shaped face, with hair still partially blackened from the fire.

Well, aren’t you handsome, you bastard.

With that final thought, Yoonui closed his eyes.

Just as Espers suffered from power depletion, guides, too, were left drained after excessive use of their abilities. Yoonui was no exception. Having faced such a high-grade Esper for the first time in years, he had completely exhausted his energy.

He hated to admit it, but his body wasn’t what it used to be. He was in his 30s now, no longer in his prime. Years away from the field and an all-nighter on top of it had left him utterly drained. Even if he had wanted to return to work—which he didn’t—his body simply wouldn’t allow it.

His condition was worsened by prolonged exposure to the flames without protective gear. His skin was burned in places, his throat raw, and his lungs felt as though they had been lined with soot. Every cough felt like it brought up ash, and if someone had drawn a cross-section of his lungs, they would have needed charcoal for accuracy.

After taking three days of sick leave and tacking on one more day of vacation, Yoonui returned to work on Friday.