“Lee Yeonsu!”

Aaron couldn’t hold back his rage and flung whatever was on the table.

He had intended to enter the gate alone, guide Joo Seunghyuk under everyone’s watch, and become the center of attention.

After all, Alphas were drawn to Omegas, and Espers became bound to good guiding.

He was sure that once he guided Joo Seunghyuk, he’d have him in the palm of his hand. If he added dominant Omega pheromones into the mix, all the better.

Both Joo Seunghyuk and the Sungan Group would be his.

But everything had gone to hell.

Not only did Lee Yeonsu monopolize Joo Seunghyuk, he also exposed to the reporters that Aaron had taken Dust.

“Lee Yeonsu, I won’t let this go! I’ll never forgive you!”

Aaron shouted as he hurled another object.

Professor Oh Seokgwang clicked his tongue as he watched Aaron’s tantrum, then demanded with a frown:

“Guide Aaron, is it true you used Dust?”

“...Just a little.”

He hadn’t wanted to believe it—but it was true. Oh Seokgwang rubbed his forehead. He had thought Aaron was just an immature rich brat, but he hadn’t expected this level of stupidity.

“A Guide doing Dust? Right before a guiding? Are you out of your mind?!”

“I didn’t take any yesterday!”

“Do you think that’s a defense?! Even if you’re addicted to Dust, you should’ve at least stayed clean for three days!”

Dust remained in the body for around three days. It wasn’t completely flushed out—in fact, traces lingered and could still affect one’s mana—but after three days, the most potent effects wore off. At that point, drug tests wouldn’t detect it, and the risk of triggering Red Dust Shock during guiding was significantly lower.

“So what? You’re saying this is all my fault?”

Instead of showing remorse, Aaron got angry—completely deflecting blame.

“Are you saying I’m responsible, then?”

“Nothing went the way you said it would! If you’d done your job properly and I’d gotten to guide Joo Seunghyuk, none of this would’ve happened!”

“If he had gone into Red Dust Shock, it would’ve been far worse!”

“Like Joo Seunghyuk would ever have some weak-ass allergic reaction!”

“......”

There was absolutely no correlation between Red Dust Shock and Esper ranking.

But Aaron spewed his ignorant claim with total confidence.

Oh Seokgwang was speechless. No matter how arrogant and °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° shameless Aaron was, he had still thought him better than Lee Yeonsu. But that belief was beginning to crack.

Yeonsu triggered every one of Oh Seokgwang’s inferiority complexes just by existing. He wanted to crush him, bury him beneath his heel. But Yeonsu, as a person, wasn’t fundamentally flawed.

Aaron, however, was irredeemable trash.

But it was too late now to reevaluate them. He’d already gotten on Aaron’s sinking ship—and it was going under fast.

“Sigh... What’s the point in arguing now? It’s already over.”

“Who says it’s over?”

Was this guy still not grasping the situation? Oh clenched his jaw in frustration. If Aaron weren’t Han Guncheol’s grandson, he would’ve torn into him already.

“You’ve been caught using Dust! I don’t know how they do things in the US, but in Korea, if you’re caught with drugs—you’re done!”

“Don’t worry. The one who’s finished will be Lee Yeonsu.”

Aaron’s voice rang with certainty. It didn’t sound like some spoiled brat’s tantrum.

Does he have something planned?

Oh Seokgwang perked up at the implication.

***

The next day, the atmosphere at the Ability User Academy was grim.

Moon Seonwoo, well-liked and respected among the Espers, had been hospitalized with Red Dust Shock. Thanks to Yeonsu’s emergency intervention, his life was saved—but he still hadn’t regained consciousness.

Yeonsu himself, having used an excessive amount of mana right after recovering, was also hospitalized.

Kim Jun couldn’t do a thing after hearing Yeonsu was sick. All day long, he was consumed by worry.

At lunchtime, the moment he saw Park Jihee in the cafeteria, he forgot to even greet her and blurted out:

“How’s Yeonsu-sunbaenim?”

Jung So Eun and Park Dongseok, who were with her, perked up, waiting for her response.

“I just spoke with him a little while ago, and his voice sounded so weak. Like he had no energy at all. He says he’s fine, but I think his condition’s pretty bad.”

Jihee let out a sigh. It hadn’t even been that long since Yeonsu was discharged—why had he pushed himself again?

But if Yeonsu hadn’t stepped in, Moon Seonwoo might have died on the spot.

If it had been her, Jihee thought, she probably wouldn’t have reacted as fast or handled it as well.

Still, she couldn’t help but think: I should’ve done it instead of Yeonsu... especially since he’d just recovered.

She felt awful—like Yeonsu was sick because she hadn’t done enough.

“When’s he getting discharged?”

“I don’t know. But at least Joo Seunghyuk is staying by his side and taking care of him.”

Kim Jun bit his lower lip. He should have felt relieved that someone was taking care of Yeonsu—but instead, he felt even more upset.

After hearing Yeonsu was sick, he’d sent several messages. Every one of them was left on read. He’d even mustered the courage to call—but Yeonsu hadn’t answered.

That wasn’t like him. No—this had to be Joo Seunghyuk’s doing.

“That bastard Aaron. Seriously, what the hell. Who gets high and then tries to guide someone?!”

So Eun exploded in rage.

Taking Dust before guiding didn’t always result in Red Dust Shock. In fact, it was extremely rare.

But the absence of a reaction didn’t mean it was safe.

If a Guide’s mana—contaminated with Red Dust—entered an Esper’s body, even if it didn’t trigger an immediate allergic response, it would still cause long-term damage. Mana corruption, mental breakdown, physical collapse—the works.

And the Esper hadn’t even done drugs themselves.

A Guide using Dust wasn’t just ruining their own life. It was no different from attempted murder—killing an Esper through guiding.

“But he says it wasn’t him. Apparently, he even voluntarily got tested this morning.”

Just like Dongseok said, Aaron had shown up at the police station earlier that day in a sharp black suit.

He claimed it was a vicious smear campaign and shed not a single tear, looking righteously indignant.

“Probably waited three days after using. Every Dusthead does the same thing. Disappear for a bit, then come crawling out acting all innocent once it doesn’t show up in the test.”

“Right? I’m not saying I believe Aaron. It’s just wild how natural his acting was.”

Jihee sighed under her breath as she listened.

“Aaron’s pretty popular, though. I bet a lot of people will believe him.”

“Come on. No way. It’s not like this is the first time someone pulled that shit. People aren’t that gullible.”

So Eun glanced at her phone. She was going to check the article’s comment section—but another headline caught her eye first.

“Oh! The results are out!”

“What do they say?”

“No Dust detected. It was a preliminary test though. They say the full results will come out in a week—but it’ll probably be the same. Dust doesn’t show up on blood tests after three days.”

Dust was notoriously difficult to detect through standard testing.

That was exactly why celebrities and high-profile figures paid such astronomical prices for it. Even if a scandal broke out, all they had to do was lie low for three days—then come out clean and play the victim.

“How are people reacting?”

“Not great.”

So Eun scrolled through the article’s comments.

There were a few supportive ones—fans saying they believed in him—but most of them were skeptical. They were saying, “Of course it wouldn’t show—it’s been three days,” and tearing into him.

After reading a few of the top comments, she exited the article. That’s when a new headline popped up—one that hadn’t been there moments before.

“Oh, wait. What’s this?”

“What?”

“Professor Oh apologized.”

“Oh, he better apologize. This is a damn Academy! How could he bring in a foreigner for our training session—let alone a Dust addict who caused this mess?!”

Jihee was furious, and Dongseok let out a small chuckle.

“Didn’t you always say it’s not a real academy? That you hate the name?”

“Because it’s dumb. We’re not even becoming military officers—what kind of academy is this?”

There had been talks about changing the name when jurisdiction of the Ability User Academy shifted from the Ministry of Defense to the Department of Ability Users. But they never came up with a better name, so the old one stuck.

“It’s probably their way of pressuring us to become Center officers after graduation.”

“Exactly. That’s why I hate it. They’re always nudging us toward the Center.”

Jihee looked like she’d had enough of it.

“Well, yeah...”

“In fourth year, they even make us intern there.”

They all grumbled—but Kim Jun couldn’t relate.

The Center only accepted B-rank Espers or at minimum C1. Anyone ranked lower could barely dream of getting in. That’s why it was considered a “dream job.”

Kim Jun wanted to join the Center, too—not for the prestige or stability.

Lee Yeonsu was expected to go to the Center after graduation. If he ended up there... Kim Jun could stay by his side.

“Anyway, I wish that bastard Oh Seokgwang would take this chance to disappear. Is that all he did? Just apologize? No resignation or anything?”

“No, that’s not it. He apologized for falsely accusing Aaron.”

“...What?!”

Jihee’s face twisted in disbelief. Kim Jun and Dongseok were just as stunned.

So Eun read the article out loud.

“Professor Oh Seokgwang stated: ‘The cause of this incident was that an S-rank Guide attempted to guide an Esper whose aptitude was lacking. When mana of an entirely different magnitude was introduced, the Esper’s body failed to handle it and went into shock.’”

“What the actual hell. Did he just say Sunwoo-sunbae was lacking in aptitude? He’s ranked right below Joo Seunghyuk! What, so anyone besides Seunghyuk is trash now? And if you’re really an S-rank, shouldn’t it be easier to guide someone of a lower rank?! What the fuck is ‘mana of an entirely different magnitude’? Sunwoo-sunbae was always guided by Yeonsu, and he never had any issues.”

Jihee fumed. The entire statement was riddled with bullshit—there was no end to the corrections she could make.

Kim Jun and Dongseok were equally furious.

“So he’s basically saying Yeonsu-sunbaenim isn’t as good as Aaron?”

“What is wrong with that guy? Is he insane?”

“And that’s not all. He said that, as a member of the board, he’d like to apologize for Guide Lee Yeonsu’s reckless comments.”

“...What?”

Jihee couldn’t believe it—so she pulled up the article herself.

But So Eun had told the truth. Professor Oh was defending Aaron, claiming he never took Dust, and accusing Yeonsu of slander.

And that statement... flipped public opinion completely.