Pretending to Be the Lover of an Esper C19

Chapter 19

“Is it really serious?”
“Not right now. But in five minutes, I suspect the situation will be different.”

There wasn’t a trace of humor in his voice. His body gave another slight jolt—not enough to be obvious, but I noticed it because I was watching closely. Again came that deep rumbling vibration, dust drifting down from the ceiling.

My deliberation was short, my decision quick.
“Option one.”

Hesitating would only make things worse. I followed Taeon’s nod with my eyes, twisting my neck as far as I could to look toward the corner he’d mentioned.

He was right—a gap just big enough for one person to squeeze through. If the falling debris were lifted even briefly, that gap would surely widen.

“In your current position, climbing up will be hard. Lie down.”

I moved stiffly into position, hearing a low sigh brush my ear—quiet but weighed down. Somewhere higher up, mechanical clattering sounded, unsettlingly uneven.

“Alright… done.”

Now lying prone, I steadied myself, knees supporting me on the ground for easy crawling—the position bringing my back and hips into faint contact with Taeon’s body. The sensation was… complicated, in multiple ways.

Not that I was trying to think about anything odd at a time like this—just an inevitable side effect of stress, perhaps.

“How long can you hold out? Would you be able to make it out yourself?”

I kept asking questions just to avoid thinking too deeply. Focus only on escape—on getting out of here. I was practically chanting it to myself when—

“Guide Ji Yunseong.”

Instead of answering, Taeon cut in abruptly.
“Ever been trapped like this during a mission? Doesn’t have to be a building—just… isolated somewhere?”

I wanted to ask why he was bringing up something so out of place right now, but there was no room to turn my head—or maybe, by tacking ‘during a mission’ onto the question, he was underscoring its professional relevance. In a situation like this, maybe it had just come to mind.

Still crouched awkwardly, I made an effort to answer seriously.

“It’s almost never happened. Partner Guides do follow their Espers onsite, but usually staying safe in the rearguard. And honestly, monsters pushing into the city core is practically unheard of. Even if…”

I trailed off. Truthfully, I could say I’d never been in such a position. Even in emergencies, a Partner Guide’s first priority was to stay protected by their Esper. And nothing like the robot drills ever happened in real field combat—the Esper almost never needed the Guide smack in the middle of a battle zone.

That only happened in two cases: a true emergency where the Guide’s help was vital, or if the Guide had recklessly thrown themselves forward.

“Anyway, it’s rare for Guides. Espers do the hard work—no offense, not singling you out.”
“You’re trying hard.”
“But why ask that suddenly? Think I’m about to panic? Why not ask if I’ve got claustrophobia—though if you asked now, I’d tell you it’s too late to matter. As you can see, I’m fine.”

We’d been in here for over half an hour. He could see I wasn’t showing any signs of panic—unless he was making some ominous prediction that I might start soon. A plausible suspicion.

“Well? You’ve been in situations like this yourself? If so, how many—”

Rrrmmble!

“…!”

The noise was louder and heavier than before—enough to make the ground under my knees tremble violently. What little calm had returned snapped abruptly taut again.

“Counting to three.”
“Now?!”
“Yes. Now.”

His urgent tone didn’t need explaining—I knew full well there was no time but now. My stomach lurched violently. I braced my wrists and ankles, taking a deep breath.

The building’s collapsing. Or maybe about to. The thought rose sharply inside me, unbidden.

“Ready!”

I called out, waiting for his countdown—

“…No. That won’t work.”

Instead came a faint, scattering murmur. The lazy cadence of his voice made my skin prickle.

“What…?”

Before I could even react, my waist was gripped tight and pulled inward.
Looking down, I saw a large hand clamped firmly around it, pressing against my belly.

“Relax your body.”
“Wait—!”

Grkk!

An intense scraping sound came from directly above—Taeon had, in a moment, lifted the ceiling debris that had rested on one arm alone.

The forced shift gouged the concrete against the walls, the view expanding upward instantly.

Half-rising, instead of running, Taeon bent his knees slightly and then thrust his arms overhead. The fierce motion launched the ceiling upward, letting it hang in midair for a fraction of a second—

“Uh—!”

A flicker of electricity burst from his raised fingertips, splintering into multiple sharp streams that traced long arcs upward.

The sudden discharge made my skin sting briefly, the hairs standing on end. Beep-beep-beep! The bracelet on his wrist shrieked, detecting psychic ability—but there was no time to focus on that alarm.

“One, two, three!”
“What’s the point of saying that now, you maniac?!”

Holding me with one arm, he launched himself upward. Instead of a gap, he’d turned the exit into an actual opening—the light spilling in through broken concrete beams.

Crash, crash, crash!
“Agh!”

I couldn’t tell if his power had severed the hydraulic mechanisms or shattered the debris outright—only that something massive had happened.

Somewhere, there was a whump, followed by a succession of heavy detonations. The smell of dust rose thick around us.

With his arms now free, Taeon scooped me fully into them—his forearms bracing my back, thighs, and calves in one strong hold. Instinctively, I hooked my arms around his neck, muscles tightening reflexively.

“Wait—hold on, Taeon!”
“It’s fine. You’ll be fine.”

Before the light fully washed over us, his voice settled over me like a feather.

Strangely, it was enough to calm me—because at some point, fear had given way to a warm, soft, but unidentifiable feeling.

In the end, the incident could be labeled a “minor mishap.”

The hydraulic system wasn’t broken—the lowering sequence had glitched, causing a bouncing, pumping motion instead of a steady step-down.

Meaning…
“So it would’ve stopped on its own?”
“…So they claim.”

If we’d only waited a few more minutes, the emergency system would have triggered itself alongside the alarm—no need for the dramatic spectacle we’d produced.

〈It does happen occasionally. Extremely rare. We fixed it once before, but… we didn’t expect it again. That’s our oversight.〉

I chewed over the site manager’s words as Taeon passed them along—twice, three times—and still felt incredulous. My temper rose, but I held it back.

At least Taeon had smashed two of the five simulation floors, which meant the facility was shut down for now. That was a satisfying enough outcome.

But his expression stayed dark. Not from wrecking the training ground, I guessed—but likely from the absurdity of the glitch itself. His irritation was almost tangible, shutting down any thought of asking about guiding afterward.

“Mr. Lee… what should we do about today’s guiding?”

We still had work to do. I pushed the question forward despite my hesitation. As expected, no immediate answer came.

“…You don’t seem especially worried, Guide Ji.”
“About guiding?”
“…No. That’s not it.”

Without explaining further, Taeon suddenly strode ahead. I stood there clueless. What the hell was with him now?

“See you in an hour,” he called over his shoulder before picking up his pace again.

I squinted at his retreating back, but it was pointless to try guessing his mood.

Should I chase after him and probe? The thought died quickly—I wasn’t interested enough to bother.

And somehow, he didn’t look like he was in a good mood anyway.

No sense poking the bear.
“But… unpredictable as ever.”

Still, something in me stirred—a vague, unwelcome premonition.