Name: Han Ju-oh
Rank: S-Class Esper
Type: Natural (Fire, Wind) Esper
Affiliation: White Guild
Baek Seo-ha skimmed through the information on the tablet before glancing up at the man seated across from him. For Espers, rank was everything, and it was a shame the age wasn’t listed.
“How long are you planning to stare?”
Must be that fire attribute—so full of complaints.
At Han Ju-oh’s rather irritable question, Seo-ha responded with a calm, “Just a moment,” and swiped the screen. He was checking for any special notes, but the rest of the information was all locked with padlock icons.
‘This is why it’s a pain dealing with different affiliations.’
Whether state-affiliated or from a private guild, all organizations were equally sensitive about managing their own Espers. Since access to information was limited, there was nothing more to dig into. Seo-ha set the tablet down and turned his chair toward the man.
Facing that handsome face again, which he had seen just a few hours earlier, Seo-ha couldn’t help but think—he really was easy on the eyes… A whole feast. A feast.
“You came for guiding?”
“You’ve got a knack for asking pointless questions.”
At Han Ju-oh’s cold reply, Seo-ha paused and stared blankly at him. How old was this guy, really?
“Don’t you have Guides over there?”
While guiding wasn’t strictly restricted by affiliation, it was typical to receive guidance from someone within the same group. It made handling any situation easier since it all happened under one roof, and the physical proximity was convenient too.
Besides, Seo-ha wasn’t exactly a top-tier Guide. Why seek him out? As various suspicions flitted through his mind, Seo-ha let out a self-deprecating sigh. Truthfully, he had a hunch.
The man had only recently returned to Korea, so he’d probably heard about Seo-ha’s reputation a little late. If he came just to see for himself, then Seo-ha had planned to tell him he was wasting his time.
“I came to confirm something.”
What, don’t know how to use honorifics? Been eating too much foreign media?
Seo-ha debated how to respond, then decided to just explain.
“You’ve had guiding before, so you should know—we’re not very compatible.”
Depending on the Esper receiving it, the difference was negligible, but the energy Seo-ha could offer was like pouring water into a shot glass. And he came all this way to receive that?
“Just do it.”
Han Ju-oh extended his hand.
Many Espers didn’t want to listen to explanations. So his reaction wasn’t particularly surprising. Fine—just guide him and send him on his way. But Seo-ha hesitated when he saw the man’s hand.
Usually, you offer your palm. Why’s he offering the back of his hand?
For a moment, he wondered if he was supposed to escort him or something, but eventually laid his hand over Han Ju-oh’s. He suppressed the odd urge to shout a cheer and began the guiding. As long as there was contact, there was no problem transferring energy.
‘One.’
His condition hadn’t improved much from when Seo-ha had guided him in the dungeon. He’d only barely recovered from the brink of a rampage. Why hadn’t he received more guiding?
‘Two.’
Han Ju-oh looked up and locked eyes with him. Those dark, fathomless eyes—like bottomless pits—bored into Seo-ha’s face.
‘Three.’
“Guiding complete.”
Seo-ha withdrew his hand and turned halfway away. He tapped the “guiding complete” button on the tablet and checked the schedule. Unsurprisingly, the reservation list was completely empty.
“You keep acting so pathetically.”
Patheti—…
Seo-ha had heard people trash him behind his back, but to say it right to his face?
“Why do you live like that?”
“However I live, that’s none of your concern, Han Ju-oh Esper.”
“Isn’t it because I am an Esper that I’m concerned?”
There had been Espers who approached like this before—saying, I’m worried about you. They’d offer sweet words of comfort, claiming physical guiding was the only method that worked, demanding intense skinship as part of the process.
Seo-ha had gotten rid of all those types. Or so he’d thought—until Han Ju-oh showed up.
“I want more guiding. Since we’ve already held hands twice, we could try a different method.”
Of course. In the end, this man also wanted more intimate guiding. Not even slightly off from the expected script.
“You must not know much about me, having lived abroad…”
Seo-ha’s voice cracked sharply as he struggled to suppress his anger.
“When I say guiding is over, that means it’s really over.”
He wouldn’t be able to offer another guiding session even if he wanted to—not until enough time had passed. So the idea of more guiding? Not even a dream.
His exceptional abilities and handsome face were gradually being chipped away by his personality. At this point, neither felt impressive nor good-looking anymore.
“The next Esper needs to come in, so could you please stand up?”
A polite way of kicking someone out. Once Han Ju-oh left, Seo-ha would immediately start preparing to clock out. Not that there was much to prepare. All he had to do was take off the gown…
“There isn’t one.”
“Isn’t what?”
Han Ju-oh’s abrupt remark was met with an equally quick reply from Seo-ha.
“There’s no other Esper coming in.”
“Ah… It was just something I say out of habit.”
He couldn’t exactly tell him to get out directly.
He’s fluent in Korean, but doesn’t seem to grasp indirect language. Maybe he’s missing that patch. Seo-ha wondered if he’d need to be more blunt.
“I have a question.”
Seo-ha’s gaze moved between three points—the bottom right corner of the tablet, his wristwatch, and the clock on the wall. All of them clearly pointed to quitting time. Why didn’t the Esper in front of him seem to realize that?
“Explain how that guiding worked back in the dungeon.”
“Sorry?”
Seo-ha asked again, not quite understanding.
Like being asked why one plus one equals two…
“A Guide uses their internal energy to calm an Esper. It alleviates the burden built up in an Esper’s body after using abilities, reducing the risk of—”
“Enough.”
Han Ju-oh cut him off, and Seo-ha calmly closed his mouth. He already knew this wasn’t the answer Han Ju-oh wanted. But that was on him—for not asking the question properly in the first place.
“Maybe I should bring him back inside.”
Han Ju-oh muttered to himself and stood up. Finally leaving? Normally, Seo-ha would’ve just waited silently for him to go, but the frustration that had been building finally made him speak.
“Han Ju-oh Esper!”
“……”
“How old are you?”
One of Han Ju-oh’s eyebrows lifted slightly. Seo-ha flinched for a second, but then doubled down, answering with more confidence.
“I’m not asking because of any personal feelings. Just curious.”
I answered your questions, so it wouldn’t kill you to answer one of mine. When Seo-ha added his reasoning, Han Ju-oh furrowed his brow.
What was so strange about that question?
“…Twenty-seven.”
“Ah…”
Same age.
So that’s why you dropped the honorifics. As Seo-ha nodded to himself, Han Ju-oh asked:
“What’s your next line?”
“Take care.”
Seo-ha waved a hand at him.
“……”
“……”
“Please go.”
Only after Seo-ha switched to formal speech did Han Ju-oh leave the guiding room.
‘Cheap bastard.’
***
After leaving the center, Han Ju-oh stood outside, frowning up at the building. More precisely, he was staring through a small window at Baek Seo-ha.
“Unbelievable.”
Once again, the guiding had ended abruptly. Even when he deliberately provoked him by calling him worthless, Seo-ha hadn’t offered any more guiding. The flimsy excuse about the “next Esper” was infuriating—an obvious ploy to get rid of him.
And then there was that look in Seo-ha’s eyes when he saw him run over the moment his name appeared on the guide list. Like he’d expected this all along.
“Has he always shaken up Espers like this?”
Like him—someone who’d walked away thinking, I want to go back and get guided again.
As he stared at the guiding room, Han Ju-oh turned around, catching sight of someone who’d been watching him for a while. He raised a brow to ask if they had business with him.
“I’m Moon Roi.”
“You look familiar.”
Trying to recall where he’d seen him, Han Ju-oh remembered—he was on the guide list that Kim Mi-yeon had shown him.
“Why did you come to see Baek Seo-ha?”
“Wanted to check something.”
Han Ju-oh’s indifferent response made Moon Roi’s hand clench into a fist in displeasure.
“Don’t come back again.”
“What’s wrong with an Esper seeking a Guide?”
“The problem is saying all sorts of disrespectful crap after receiving guiding.”
“If the guiding had been proper, I wouldn’t have reacted that way.”
It was no different from exploiting an Esper’s vulnerability. That’s why Han Ju-oh hadn’t held back his harsh judgment of Baek Seo-ha. Moon Roi clenched his fists like he himself had been insulted. Given Han Ju-oh’s personality, he probably hadn’t even bothered to hide his negative feelings in front of Seo-ha.
It was a shame. Seo-ha didn’t deserve to be dismissed like that.
He’d always been ambitious and full of confidence. Thoughtful of others, always striving fiercely to get what he wanted. That was the kind of guy he was. But because his guiding output was low, everyone seemed obsessed with tearing him down. And each time, he shrank more and more. It was painful to watch.
Moon Roi was about to tell him not to look down on Seo-ha— But changed his mind.
“Whatever it is, don’t come back again.”
Displeasure seeped into Moon Roi’s expression, and his voice turned frosty. Watching him, Han Ju-oh gave a scornful smile—and walked away.
