Guide of the Sichuan Tang Clan C1

Chapter 1

Eunmyeong awakened as a Guide when he was fifteen years old.

On the day his grade was evaluated, every major portal site was plastered with his name. Articles bearing headlines such as “The Nation’s First S-Class Guide” and “Birth of the First S-Class Guide” flooded the internet, and countless photographs of the still-youthful boy appeared everywhere.

He was the very first S-Class Guide to appear since the emergence of the Gates.

Those Gates, which began appearing when Eunmyeong was just five, were like dungeons spewing forth monsters into the world. Yet as the saying goes, “Even if the sky collapses, there will always be a way out.” Alongside the Gates came people who awakened with special abilities—humans capable of wielding supernatural power. These individuals held back the hordes pouring from the Gates and became the world’s new heroes. They were called Espers.

The problem was that an Esper’s abilities were not stable. The more they used their powers, the more their minds became clouded with confusion and chaos, and they needed someone who could calm that storm.

In simple terms—they needed a healer for their tanks.

That role was what Eunmyeong’s manifested ability provided: the Guide.

The higher the Guide’s grade, the stronger the healing effect they could deliver. The only issue was that these turbulent psychic waves could only be subdued through physical contact.

From that day forward, Eunmyeong threw himself into his work—running from place to place to perform Guiding sessions. He did everything he could to guide as many Espers as possible. Some could not be saved and lost their lives to rampages, but for the most part, he managed to rescue the majority of those he guided.

Now, however, Eunmyeong lay trapped beneath a collapsed building, barely able to breathe.

“All that hard work… and for what…”

Cough. A wet sound escaped his throat as blood trickled from his lips. The rubble pressing down on him shifted slightly when he tried to move, and though he couldn’t see where, he could feel something inside him was pierced or broken—he was bleeding somewhere deep.

Both his legs and one arm were pinned under debris; he couldn’t move them at all. Gasping for air, Eunmyeong stared blankly up at the fractured ceiling above him.

“Damn it… I told that bastard to come in for guiding more often…”

The one who had destroyed the building was Jung Il, an Esper from Division One. Just yesterday, Eunmyeong had urged him to come for another session since his psychic waves had been unstable. Jung Il had refused, saying his girlfriend didn’t like it.

“Who would’ve thought this mess would happen overnight.”

The signal alarm had jolted Eunmyeong awake at dawn. Code Red. An Esper had gone on a rampage.

Throwing on clothes hastily, he rushed straight to the Center. By the time he arrived, chaos had already overtaken the place—Guides and Espers were running about, hastily summoned to respond to the emergency.

Pushing through the confusion, Eunmyeong grabbed a nearby researcher by the collar.

The man blinked at him, startled. Beneath his brown hair, his shirt was half-buttoned, and he wore pajama pants covered in clouds and cartoon elephants.

Is he seriously wearing that?

The researcher looked at him in disbelief, seemingly more shocked by Eunmyeong’s outfit than the Code Red alert.

Only then did Eunmyeong realize he hadn’t changed his pajama pants. Crossing his legs in embarrassment, he shouted,

“Is that really what’s important right now!? Who’s the Esper rampaging? Where is he!?”

“Uh, D-Division One…”

“Who in Division One!?”

“An Esper named Park Jung Il…”

Damn it. The moment he heard the name, Eunmyeong realized it was one of his assigned Espers. Without hesitation, he sprinted toward Division One. His communicator buzzed with alerts ordering him to return to the Center immediately, but he ignored them.

“I told him a thousand times to get guided regularly!”

When he arrived, Division One was already surrounded by Espers. Telekinetics and defenders had both been dispatched—precautions in case the building exploded.

Biting his lip, Eunmyeong slipped around to the rear of the building. According to the layout, there was an unmarked back entrance.

Just as he reached for the door handle, an Esper standing guard caught sight of his pink pajama pants and shouted,

“C-Chief Guide Choi Eunmyeong! Where are you going!?”

“Stop him!”

But before they could react, he’d already swiped his access card and entered. The moment he stepped onto the staircase inside—

Boom.

The entire building shuddered violently. He heard the sound of a support pillar snapping somewhere beneath the stairs.

“Ahhh!”

He tried to shield himself with his arms, but he wasn’t an Esper—just a Guide. His soft human body was no match for the falling debris.

Talk about bad luck. Of all places to get hit, it had to be an empty staircase. He couldn’t even dodge. The communicator around his neck blinked wildly, GPS signal still transmitting, but it was clear he’d be dead long before anyone found him.

“S—Cough—shit… If I live through this, Park Jung Il, that bastard’s first.”

Crushed under the rubble, Eunmyeong muttered faintly to himself.

“And his damn girlfriend too… Cough…”

Some people could barely get a date in their lives, and this guy thought he could rampage because of his relationship? Refuse guiding? The very thought made his blood boil—literally, as another mouthful of hot blood spilled out between his lips.

“Cough—!”

A shiver ran through him. His hands and feet turned icy cold, his head spun, and each breath felt like his last.

From somewhere above came the sound of falling debris and frantic footsteps. Amidst the rumbling, he could hear someone shouting his name.

“Eunmyeong!”

Had they already come looking for him? He tried to turn his head toward the voice, but his body wouldn’t budge—bones were broken, crushed.

“Eunmyeong! If you can hear me, answer me!”

Answer you? I can barely breathe, idiot…

Even now, Espers were the same to the very end.

Through his fading vision, Eunmyeong stared at the crumbling ceiling. Death was right in front of him. Maybe it was from the blood loss, but his vision blurred—and then, suddenly, he saw her. His mother, smiling faintly through the darkness.

“My son, your real life begins now, doesn’t it?”

She stood there in her floral apron, having laid out a full table—seaweed soup, stir-fried pork, braised hairtail, and short ribs. Handing him a spoon, she beamed.

“From now on, your days will be full of happiness, my dear boy.”

Her radiant smile filled his fading sight. She looked so young then, her skin smooth and bright.

Eunmyeong smiled faintly in return.

“I wilted before I could even bloom, Mom.”

The edges of his vision turned black. The image of his mother slowly dissolved into the dark.

“In my next life…”

Just like you said, I’ll live happily. I’ll fall in love, get a lover—

Not just one, maybe ten or more.

For every man I couldn’t date in this life, I’ll make up for it next time.

And with that final wish, S-Class Guide Eunmyeong’s breathing ceased beneath the rubble.

He was only twenty-two.

Until complete darkness claimed him, he prayed—again and again.

And yet—

“Why… am I still alive?”

In a secluded place, Eunmyeong’s eyes flew open.

He was certain he had died. He could still remember the sensation of being crushed, the pain of his abdomen being pierced, the moment his breath stopped.

Yet now, he was lying under a soft blanket.

“Huh?”

Bolting upright, Eunmyeong looked around. This wasn’t the Guiding Center, nor Division One, nor even his comfortable penthouse. His wide eyes took in the unfamiliar room.

“What is this, a historical drama set?”

It didn’t look like any hospital or hotel. The interior was far too elaborate—wooden floors, old-fashioned drawers, and a chest of bedding that looked straight out of another era.

Above it hung a calligraphed scroll written in elegant Chinese characters. The entire room felt like something out of an old Chinese period drama.

The art director must’ve gone all out for this set.

But why was he here? Various theories flashed through his mind.

First theory: He was rescued by Espers and brought to a historical drama filming site nearby.

He lifted the silk robe wrapped around his body, revealing pale, soft skin—and a completely uninjured abdomen. No scars. No muscles either.

“Well, that’s not it.”

Besides, there was no way anyone would be filming a period drama near Division One. He quickly pulled his robe closed and thought of another possibility.

Second theory: He had somehow debuted as a period drama actor without realizing it.

But that was impossible. He’d awakened as a Guide at fifteen; he’d never had another dream or career. Acting? The only acting he knew was faking sick to get a day off.

And as for money—how much did he earn from simply holding the hands of Espers? He was practically a tenured civil servant—with no retirement age.

“I make more than most actors. Why would I debut?”

That theory—scrapped.

Completely baffled, Eunmyeong clutched his head in frustration—only to feel smooth, neatly tied hair instead of his usual short cut.

Long, black strands gleamed under his fingers, tied halfway up in a polished half-knot. When he brushed his hand along his head, his fingers brushed over a hairpin.

“Wait… this is my hair?”

He tugged lightly, and pain shot through his scalp. It was real.

At that instant, he was forced to confront the third, most ridiculous theory—the kind he’d only ever read in novels.

“Did I… die and get possessed into a novel?”

No sooner had the words—fit for a novel title—escaped his lips, the door slammed open.

A man stormed in, his hair tied neatly with a glinting green ornament that shimmered as he moved.

Eunmyeong stared blankly. The man’s clothing resembled his own, yet not quite—it was layered with inner robes and a wide sash, topped by an outer overcoat.

“What’s with his outfit?”

Something about it felt eerily familiar. As he blinked, the man frowned deeply. The sharp lines on his face and the creases between his brows suggested he was no stranger to scowling.

And then it hit him. Eunmyeong’s eyes widened.

“A martial arts novel! He’s dressed like a martial arts character!”

Back at the Guiding Center, Eunmyeong had spent his downtime reading novels—especially Murim stories.

“Don’t tell me… I’ve been possessed into one?”

The thought barely formed when the man raised a fist.

“You bastard!”

With that, his knuckles crashed down on Eunmyeong’s head.

A fight already?

Eunmyeong clenched his fists tightly.