Episode 1
『
⎮The government’s disaster alert channel has 27 million subscribers, yet an Esper’s personal channel has 100 million.
⎮There is a need to be wary of blind idolization of Espers.
“Full Metal Baby.” It is the nickname of S-Rank Esper Saijun, who enjoys worldwide popularity. The personal channel opened under the same name recently achieved 100 million subscribers. Even accounting for his popularity overseas, this is an enormous figure.
The channel’s account holder was listed as the Esper-Guide Unified Command Headquarters, namely UEFC. The revenue generated every time one clicks and plays a video of Saijun is filling UEFC’s coffers even at this very moment. Furthermore, UEFC is reaping the promotional and advertising effects of encouraging enlistment through this channel.
Most of the content uploaded to the channel consists of Saijun’s actual combat footage, and a video of combat on Bamseom in the Han River filmed by a drone recorded 200 million views in just three days since upload.
In this video, Saijun’s appearance facing off against a Creature was exposed as-is, without any mosaic. Of course, it is the Creature’s blood, but this content, awash with gore, is rated for all ages, so even young children can watch it.
The platform headquarters responded that the targets for judging cruel content are defined as “humans and animals,” and since Creatures are not included in that criteria, there is nothing problematic under current regulations.
Most people admire the combat abilities of the star Esper, but there are no few concerned gazes regarding this.
Last month, an elementary school student playing “Esper play,” a fad among elementary students, suffered severe burns while imitating Saijun, among other accidents caused by blind idolization of Espers occurring in succession.
Some are also asking the fundamental question of whether Saijun is qualified to be a role model for children.
Saijun is an Esper who is always criticized for excessive suppression. The repair costs for commercial buildings he has destroyed, such as schools and banks, amount to tens of billions of won per year, not to mention the 0.5-hectare forest on Mount Umyeon that he burned down last year and the ecosystem lost because of it.
Of course, his merit of killing thousands of Creatures and protecting citizens’ safety must be acknowledged. However, the point that the scale of collateral damage during his dispatch is unusually large must be addressed.
Is Saijun incapable of carrying out operations without causing harm to his surroundings? Is it desirable for us to unconditionally go wild for such a Saijun?
Perhaps we have been constantly fanning the flames, urging a young Esper who has just turned twenty-two to create something flashier and more explosive—so-called eye candy.
Reporter Ju Doyeong [email protected]』
Like 304, Moved 46, Angry 10,920, Sad 108
Comments 6,836
ntit**** This trash reporter, tone down the clickbait. Why provoke an Esper who’s minding his own business? Espers are national prestige and security—who does this bastard think he is, telling him “work or bow” lololol
└ silk**** You’re not wrong but it’s “do this, do that,” not “work or bow.” Learn some spelling before you comment, lol.
mbti**** If only normies would stop being so jealous of Espers… It’s pathetic to watch.
skkt**** His surname is Ju too, lol. Reporter Ju, lololol. Just drop dead, lol.
rladdm**** Throw him to the Gate as Creature feed.
└ chltn**** Even Creatures would spit out a trash reporter.
“Haah….”
Giving up on scrolling further, Doyeong removed his hand from the trackpad. Then, staring blankly into empty space, he let out a long sigh. His face was filled with resignation, like an enlightened monk who had found release after enduring great suffering.
Just then, an announcement rang out.
『We will now begin boarding Korean Air flight HA1032 to New York at 10:50. Passengers boarding, please proceed to Gate 113.』
Coincidentally, just as one of the commenters had said, he was in front of a gate. Though it was a gate of a slightly different meaning.
Doyeong hurriedly closed his laptop, gathered his headphones, notebook, and other belongings, and swept them into his bag. Then he joined the end of the line of people queued to board.
“Huu….”
A sigh escaped through the gap between his lips again, like a habit. Why am I here? In this place I thought I would never come to again in my life.
The chief’s booming voice still rang vividly in his ears.
‘Ju Doyeong! If you want to run your mouth saying whatever you please, go write a diary! Are you some kind of social activist?’
Hadn’t it been just a while ago that the chief had scolded him for low article views and told him to somehow grab people’s attention? If the article was going to be such a problem, he shouldn’t have approved it in the first place.
Doyeong had been praised like a national hero for several days for hitting #1 on the portal site’s real-time news rankings and recording the highest view count in history.
But after a call came from above saying that the VIP—that is, the President—had happened to see the article and was displeased, the situation changed drastically.
In the end, Doyeong received an overseas assignment that was no different from a demotion, and now had to spend three years in a foreign land where he had no connections.
As the line of people grew shorter, as the time to board the plane drew nearer, Doyeong’s heart beat faster and faster.
He made a list in his head and checked it one by one.
He had chosen an airline that operated Boeing’s 777, which had never had a fatal accident until now, and had paid extra to secure a seat right in front of the emergency exit, which was spacious and easy to escape from.
On top of that, he had been prescribed strong sleeping pills. He had planned to take them as soon as he sat down. Ten minutes while preparing for takeoff would be more than enough to knock him out cold. The plan was perfect.
However, no sooner had he passed through the boarding bridge connecting the gate and the aircraft than a crisis came upon him.
His stomach churned as if it were flipping over, and he felt like he would vomit. Swallowing his saliva and suppressing his nausea, Doyeong barely sat in his reserved seat and opened his bag.
“Huh?”
Doyeong’s eyes widened in panic as he looked inside the bag. The pouch where he had put the sleeping pills was nowhere to be seen. Desperation gradually filled his hands as he rummaged through the bag frantically.
Cold sweat began to break out thickly on Doyeong’s forehead. The tips of his chilled fingers trembled faintly. In the end, he overturned the bag, took out all his belongings, and checked them, but the item he was looking for never appeared.
Then, a thought flashed through Doyeong’s mind. While waiting in front of the gate earlier, when he took out his laptop and such, could it have fallen out onto the chair or the floor?
Doyeong sprang up from his seat. A flight attendant who had closed the door and was walking down the aisle checking if people had fastened their seat belts spotted Doyeong.
“Sir, could you please sit down?”
“It’s not that, I—”
As he tried to approach to explain the situation, the flight attendant stopped him in his tracks.
“I-I’m afraid I left something behind. Can’t I just go back to the gate for a moment?”
“Are you saying you think you left something near the gate?”
“Yes.”
“Sir, we will contact the ground crew right away to look for your lost item, and if we find it, we will hold onto it for you.”
“I-it’s something I need right now!”
His voice grew louder in desperation, and people’s eyes began to gather on him.
The illogical thought that the plane might move while he was doing this made Doyeong’s face turn pale, then ashen. He needed the medicine immediately.
“I-I’d rather just get off.”
The flight attendant, who had been silently watching Doyeong, spoke in a resolute voice.
“Sir, please sit down.”
If one person deplaned, all passengers would have to deplane and a security inspection of the aircraft would have to be conducted. It was because the person getting off could be someone who had planted explosives on board.
“Ah, come on. Listen to the flight attendant!”
The people in nearby seats chimed in one after another, giving him pointed looks, but none of it reached Doyeong’s ears.
His heart pounded as if it were going mad, and his surroundings felt like they were closing in. He had the illusion that the stationary plane was rolling along the ground.
“Uck… huff….”
Soon, a deafening boom rang in Doyeong’s ears. His head whipped toward the rear of the plane where the explosion had been heard. But there were only passengers looking at him with puzzled faces; no flames, no smoke.
Was it an illusion?
The moment he turned his head forward again, an explosion loud enough to tear his eardrums rang out. The focus disappeared from Doyeong’s pupils.
“Sir! Sir?”
The flight attendants’ shouts began to reach the ears of Doyeong, who was falling into panic.
‘Head down! Stay low! Get down! Stay low!’
The cart the flight attendant had been pushing while serving drinks rolled away at tremendous speed, and soon someone’s sharp scream was heard.
“Huek!”
Doyeong covered his ears with both hands. With a loud clank, the fuselage shook violently, and yellow masks fell from the ceiling in perfect unison.
‘Aaaack!’
A scream that sounded like it would tear the air apart came from the back. Barely turning his head to look, Doyeong saw that the rear of the plane had a hole in it as if someone had torn it open with a knife.
A book someone had been reading flew out through the crack, and a flight attendant barely holding onto a passenger’s seat was on the verge of being sucked out into the pitch-black sky.
Another flight attendant ran for her life and grabbed her hand. But before she could get a firm grip, the plane shook once more.
When Doyeong, who had squeezed his eyes shut, opened them again, neither of the flight attendants who had been in the aisle was visible. Only a scarf, which had been part of their uniform, remained fluttering, caught on the torn fuselage.
Even in the midst of this, some flight attendants kept shouting.
‘Head down! Stay low! Get down! Stay low!’
“Head… down… stay… low….”
Then, a low voice rang out from somewhere.
“It’s all right.”
At the unfamiliar man’s voice that reached directly into his mind without passing through his ears, the chaotic scene Doyeong was in stopped in an instant as if someone had pressed a pause button. Like a video with special effects applied, the hair of the passenger in front fluttering in the air and the newspaper being sucked away both hung frozen in midair.
Light slowly returned to the brown irises of Doyeong’s pupils, which had dilated hugely. His vision, which had been like darkness, brightened, and he slowly began to see something.
For a fleeting moment, in front of Doyeong’s eyes as he stood amidst the scene of piercing screams, he saw the sea.