Pretending to Be the Lover of an Esper C18

Chapter 18

“This is driving me insane.”
“What are you dissatisfied about this time?”
“This entire situation?”
“You seem to live your life in constant negativity.”
“No, no—try reversing your perspective. Maybe it’s not that I’m negative, but rather you, Mr. Lee, have a negative influence.”
“Hah. Me?”

Taeon’s tone was frigid enough to make me fall silent. His sharp presence almost made the air drop a few degrees. I tensed, then averted my eyes—not from intimidation, but because I didn’t want to waste any more useless emotional energy. I had spoken carelessly.

Just a few days ago, we’d shared a rare moment of solidarity over a common goal. Now that felt like some kind of illusion—a dream we’d both woken from.
Maybe things were even colder than before. Not that it was surprising. Honestly, indifference was the only logical state two people could maintain when trapped like this; it wasn’t exactly a setting for heart-to-heart conversations.

“But… can’t we do something about this?”
“About what?”
“Our thighs keep touching.”
“You think I’m enjoying that?”

Taeon growled low, irritation rumbling in his throat. Yes, I knew I was being unreasonable—but if I didn’t keep talking, the silence pressing between us would’ve driven me mad within seconds.

Pieces of concrete pressed heavier and heavier from above, their weight borne entirely by Taeon’s arms. It sounded heroic when put into words—an Esper holding up the wreckage to protect his Guide—but add “with Ji Yunseong trapped underneath him,” and the image turned into a suffocating nightmare.

Right. Maybe that’s what this was—a nightmare, not reality. That comforting lie didn’t stay intact for long. Just like two minutes ago, my desperate mental trick failed completely.

“Well, this training ground is incredibly realistic. I wonder how much budget went into this.”
“The structure itself is simple, so not much, I’d assume.”
“So we can’t destroy it, huh.”
“Are you seriously saying that right now…”

Taeon clicked his tongue. I felt an awkward sort of embarrassment—not guilt, just… humiliating awkwardness.

That slight misstep was enough. My silence sealed in the creeping quiet I’d tried to avoid.
Anxiously, I coughed and turned my head away. Even facing him directly in this position was more uncomfortable than I could bear.

Somewhere nearby, the faint drip of water echoed—soft but eerie. Occasionally, a deep rumble shuddered through the ground.
He wasn’t wrong—it really did feel real. Claustrophobically so, like we were actually buried beneath a collapsed building.

“They said this system was introduced two years ago, right?”
“Yes.”

We were inside one of the indoor simulation training centers, built as separate annexes on the agency’s outer grounds.
Each facility was designed to reproduce the atmosphere of a building collapse, scaled large enough that only a few regional HQs had installed one so far—the ones in Gyeonggi, Gyeongsang, and Gangwon provinces¹.
The goal was to train responders for crisis management in enclosed, collapsed environments.

“…How about trying just a little power?”
Trying to break the suffocating silence, I offered the idea—immediately earning a disapproving shake of his head. His frown deepened, another crease joining the lines between his brows. Guilt prickled faintly—perhaps the size of a hamster’s fingernail.

“Even a static-level current would register if it came from me instead of the environment. This bracelet detects it all—whether the energy originates from an inorganic or organic source.”

He flicked his gaze toward the restraint band on his wrist.
“The moment I release even a trace of voltage, we’ll get a failure screen. Want me to prove it?”
“No, no thanks! I believe in your raw, unaided strength. Good luck, champion Esper.”

That stung my pride—and I was sure it did his, too.

In this facility, Espers were generally barred from using abilities during most training scenarios. The goal wasn’t fear of property damage—though that was part of it—but realism. It simulated situations where psychic ability couldn’t be used freely.
After all, in a real collapse, using an Esper’s power recklessly could trigger further destruction or endanger unseen survivors.

The bracelet on his wrist was a precision instrument designed to detect even the faintest Esper wave pattern. The moment he used his power, it would emit a deafening alarm—our tidy failure delivered by the marvels of modern science.

“Can’t you take it off, though?”
“Guide Ji Yunseong, you’ve been spouting nonsense since earlier. Do you even understand the purpose of this exercise?”
“Yes, sir. Just thinking out loud.”

Of course I understood.
He sighed heavily—the sound of someone pitying a hopeless idiot. Shame burned deep in my stomach.

Meanwhile, the pressure above—technically pressing on his upper body—grew heavier. The veins in his forearms bulged even more prominently with the strain.

For the record, this debris was hydraulically controlled, its weight dynamically increasing in irregular intervals.

“Is… it really heavy?”
“Would you rather take over?”

I tried to keep up the conversation, desperate to avoid that awful silence, but his curt tone made my words die in my throat. I scratched my forehead, embarrassed. At least his breathing didn’t sound strained—that was good, right?

“So, how much time do we have left? If I just try to—”
“Wait. Stay still.”

Before I could twist my body, Taeon spoke sharply, tapping the outer side of my leg—using his thigh as leverage.
“…!”

A strangled sound nearly slipped out, but I bit down on my lip and inhaled hard. Thank god I managed not to jump.

It took me a while to steady my breathing. Once the wheezing subsided, I finally spoke. The silence between us had stretched too long.
“Mr. Lee…?”
“…Damn it.”
“Excuse me?”

His grim tone sent a chill of worry through me. His scowl darkened—but not in my direction. Just as I noticed that—

Thud!
“Ah!”

A dull, heavy impact came from somewhere above. The noise rippled through the wreckage, and Taeon’s body jerked like he was bracing against something falling.
“What—what was that?”
“Something collapsed—or is collapsing.”

Even said in his calm tone, it sounded more like a grim joke than assurance. My face must have gone pale. Collapsing? Now?

“You mean it’s just part of the simulation, like—something programmed to drop after a time limit?”
“I’m not too dull to miss the difference.”

I didn’t even have time to bristle at the implied insult. Fear had hollowed me out completely. The dread rising in my chest was primal. Even Taeon didn’t seem to have recognized the issue until moments ago.

“So… we might actually…”
“Maybe you were right earlier. We might have to break our way out.”
“Oh, uh—really?”
“For now, I’ll just try to hold it. Using power here could put you in danger too.”

He wasn’t wrong. Normally I’d assume he’d know best—but right now, our proximity made things riskier. Even the smallest surge could reach me where I sat practically pressed against him.

“How likely is it they know we’re trapped?”
“If the system detected anything unusual, we’d hear an alarm or see the emergency shutdown trigger. Since nothing’s happened… I wouldn’t count on rescue.”
“Should I scream, maybe—just in case?”
“They won’t hear you.”

I gave him a doubtful look, then yelled anyway at the top of my lungs—Help! The system’s broken! We’re trapped! We’re going to be crushed!

My voice echoed briefly, faded into nothing. Minutes passed, and nothing changed. No rescue team. No alarms.
“Ha.”

Taeon shook his head slowly, as if to say, See?
Oh, for crying out loud. Who designed this thing? Where’s the supervisor?! Pure despair hit me. This was supposed to be simulated training, not a literal death trap. My designated role was that of an ordinary civilian victim, not a Guide-doomed-to-crush-death.

“Guide Ji Yunseong.”

His voice dropped low, steady, and serious enough to pull my attention immediately. I swallowed hard, forcing myself to look up at him. His forearms bulged even more as blood pulsed through his strained muscles.

A long, creaking groan carried from somewhere deeper in the rubble—metal bending under too much pressure.

“There’s a gap over there, near the far corner. If I lift this bit higher, one of us could probably fit through. We could take turns—you could go out first while I hold it… or—”

He paused, glancing downward, scanning our surroundings.
“There’s also the option of sliding down through that lower section. Risky, though—I don’t recommend it.”
“Those are the only two options?”
“Unless we destroy the falling debris piece by piece. Best case, we make it out. Worst case, electrocution instead of suffocation.”
“…Ha. Great time for jokes.”
“I’m not joking.”

His leveled, utterly serious tone sliced through me. The silence that followed was thick enough to choke on.

¹ Gyeonggi, Gyeongsang, Gangwon — Major provinces in South Korea that commonly host government branches or specialized training facilities.