Was the Esper Kim Beom-hak mentioned really Han Ju-oh? It was suspicious, but with Han Ju-oh standing directly in front of him, blocking his path and staring intensely, Seo-ha couldn’t flat-out deny it.
But Han Ju-oh only raised an eyebrow in response to Seo-ha’s question, as if wondering what was so strange about it, offering no further reaction.
What the hell. I got flustered and spoke informally, then awkwardly switched to honorifics that didn’t even fit. I mean, come on, say something at least. Why the silence?
Ah, right. Now he remembered.
‘I went off on him, thinking I’d never see him again.’
Sure, Han Ju-oh had started it, but Seo-ha had been the one to end things. He’d ripped into him without restraint and stormed off. No doubt Han Ju-oh wasn’t harboring any fond feelings toward him.
So maybe the Esper looking for him wasn’t Han Ju-oh after all? Maybe he was just blocking the way because he didn’t like Seo-ha, not because he was the one searching…
“I must’ve been mistaken. Sorry.”
Seo-ha tried to pass by him, but Han Ju-oh reappeared in front of him again. What the hell?
He tried a second time, but just like before, Han Ju-oh was suddenly right there again—like some bad joke.
“…Are you seriously using your ability for this?”
Using a wind-type ability just to block someone from walking away—what kind of nonsense was that?
“It’s me.”
The low voice from Han Ju-oh triggered gasps all around. Seems like some had been hoping it wasn’t really him, and now that it was confirmed, they were clearly shocked.
With all the attention pouring in from the room, Seo-ha decided the priority was getting out of sight.
“Let’s not do this here. Let’s go to a guiding room. We can—”
As Seo-ha tried to usher Han Ju-oh out of the café, someone suddenly stepped in between them. Seo-ha stared in disbelief at the back of Cho Ha-cheol’s head as he blocked his path. ‘Why the hell is he getting involved now?’
“Esper Han Ju-oh….”
Cho Ha-cheol’s voice trembled.
“Why would an S-Class Esper be here for Baek Seo-ha…”
Now Seo-ha understood why Cho Ha-cheol looked so shaken. He’d been insisting Seo-ha was lying, only for Han Ju-oh himself to show up like this. The shock was natural. And it wasn’t just Cho Ha-cheol. The Espers who had been watching with idle curiosity earlier, even the café staff, were now glancing over nervously.
That’s how big of an impact Han Ju-oh’s presence had. Seo-ha was reminded all over again what it meant to be an S-Class Esper. And then came the thought—What did I even do to him back then? His face stiffened as memories resurfaced, just as Han Ju-oh finally spoke.
“I came looking for Guide Baek Seo-ha with a heart full of longing… aching desperation.”
‘Longing and desperation…?’
The same guy who called him an idiot before was now claiming he missed him with longing? Seo-ha narrowed his eyes, wondering if he was being mocked, and instinctively tried to create some distance—but their eyes locked.
“If someone is so precious to you, but you can’t even see them when you want to… then yeah, you have to search for them like a madman.”
Seo-ha remembered now—just what kind of vile things he’d thrown at Han Ju-oh that day. His mouth refused to move. Embarrassed, his face flushed red, and he dropped his head to hide it.
“Why?”
“Why would you want to see Guide Baek Seo-ha?”
Cho Ha-cheol’s voice cut in. Han Ju-oh answered casually, “Who knows,” drawing the moment out.
Seo-ha didn’t even need to look to feel the weight of Han Ju-oh’s gaze pressing down on the top of his head. He wanted to avoid it so badly, but the situation wouldn’t let him.
“You’re asking something obvious. There’s only one reason an Esper seeks out a Guide.”
Han Ju-oh’s confidence shut Cho Ha-cheol down completely.
“That’s not obvious.”
Clearly, Cho Ha-cheol didn’t see Seo-ha as someone an Esper would come to for guidance—but that didn’t seem to matter to Han Ju-oh at all.
Uninterested in clearing up Cho Ha-cheol’s doubts, Han Ju-oh turned his attention fully to Seo-ha.
“I was going to order an Americano…”
“I didn’t even take a sip of this. Here, you can have it.”
Seo-ha shoved his own coffee into Han Ju-oh’s hand, eager to escape the situation. Only then did Han Ju-oh finally move.
Han Ju-oh exited the café first, with Seo-ha following close behind.
“Guide Baek.”
Cho Ha-cheol called out feebly from behind. When Seo-ha turned around, Cho Ha-cheol was looking at him with eyes full of confusion and denial.
“Did you… maybe get a really high match rate with that Esper?”
The question was directed at Seo-ha, but no doubt it was what everyone present was wondering.
Seo-ha didn’t answer right away. A high match rate? That was something he had wanted more than anyone. If that were the case, he’d be ready to smother Han Ju-oh in kisses. He’d already imagined showering him with affection, teasing him for being late in showing up.
But that was all meaningless now. Their match rate had been rock bottom—so low that Seo-ha couldn’t even begin to guess why Han Ju-oh would come searching for him with such desperate emotion.
So he should tell Cho Ha-cheol that no, it wasn’t like that. But his lips wouldn’t move.
He knew the moment he walked out, everyone would be talking about him—and he didn’t want to just hand them more bait to feast on.
He thought his pride had been worn down to nothing by now. So why did his lips still feel sealed shut, like there was a hunk of iron weighing them down?
The silence dragged on, and as suspicion began creeping into Cho Ha-cheol’s gaze, the door opened—Han Ju-oh stepped back inside. He grabbed Seo-ha’s arm and pulled him to his side.
“I’ve got someplace even better in mind.”
Without giving Seo-ha a chance to react, Han Ju-oh wrapped his arms around him—and flew.
***
Inside the guiding room, Seo-ha glanced around the familiar yet unfamiliar space before settling into a chair. Whether Han Ju-oh sat or not was none of his business.
He picked up the tablet, checked the name of the Esper who had submitted the guiding request, then set it down.
“You even went so far as to submit a formal guiding request. How considerate.”
The only name on the reservation list was Han Ju-oh’s. For him to come all the way to the café, he must really have something desperate to say.
“Still, that was a bit much, don’t you think?”
He turned the chair toward Han Ju-oh and spoke.
“No matter how much you resent me, grabbing someone who’s trying to quit… what’s the point?”
He’d said everything he could, assuming he was leaving. And now, to come face to face like this…
“Resent you?”
“You chased down a Guide who was quitting, didn’t you?”
“…Ah.”
Seo-ha understood from Han Ju-oh’s reaction—he hadn’t really listened to anything he’d said back then. Even if the words had been bitter and sharp, the fact that someone cried out in frustration shouldn’t be brushed off like background noise.
Well, that probably explained why he had the nerve to call him stupid, too.
Seo-ha didn’t bother hiding his displeasure. He’d only met this guy a few times, and yet he already ranked among the most irritating people he knew.
“You never said when you were quitting.”
“…What?”
Seo-ha blinked dumbly, caught off guard by the unexpected reply from someone he despised. Honestly, he probably looked like an idiot right now.
“I contacted the Center and was told guiding was still possible. The registry was open, so I went ahead with it.”
Since he hadn’t officially quit, of course the system would still list him as an available Guide. With nothing left to say, Seo-ha glared daggers at the innocent tablet. ‘This is all your fault. You and that damn Director.’
“Let’s skip the pretense. You didn’t come here just for a guiding session, did you? Get to the point.”
“What makes you think that’s not why I came?”
“If you’re just here to play games, I’m not in the mood.”
His mood had been sour since the café. It wasn’t like being ignored was anything new—but the moment Han Ju-oh appeared, the atmosphere had changed, and that shift kept dragging Seo-ha down like a swamp.
He admitted it. He hadn’t wanted to lose to Cho Ha-cheol, which was why he’d stayed and faced him instead of walking away. Turns out, his pride wasn’t completely worn down yet after all.
And when Han Ju-oh had shown up at just the right moment and flustered Cho Ha-cheol—it had felt good. Lying would be pointless.
But all of that was now eating away at him, clumping into a big lump of self-loathing.
“I want an official compatibility test.”
“There’s no need.”
He cut him off instantly.
The watch gave a simplified estimate of the energy being transferred to the Esper. But even if it was a rough calculation, it wasn’t significantly inaccurate. They’d already confirmed things through guiding, hadn’t they?
A formal test would require a long appointment and procedure. Seo-ha, who’d already walked into that testing room hundreds of times, simply shook his head, jaded.
“I’m not doing any more compatibility tests.”
He was tired. So tired. He just wanted to stop.
But Han Ju-oh wasn’t listening.
“Come here tomorrow.”
He even pulled out a business card, with the name of a guild printed on it. The sight of it only made Seo-ha sigh with exaggerated annoyance. Han Ju-oh stood, as if he’d said all he needed to say, moving with calm, unhesitating strides.
“And if I don’t?”
Seo-ha shot the question at his retreating back with defiance. An S-Class Esper—one of the rarest, most valuable talents in the country.
So why the hell was he clinging to him like this?
And why did Seo-ha find him so unbelievably annoying?
“What are you gonna do if I don’t go?”
If Han Ju-oh said it was because he was still a Guide and had to follow orders, Seo-ha would ignore him. He’d already let go of everything. There was no motivation left in him to comply.
That’s why he stood his ground. Even if what he just said had been reckless, Han Ju-oh’s cool response didn’t make sense—but Seo-ha wasn’t about to match that calm.
“Go ahead, then. Let’s see what happens.”
With a faint smile, Han Ju-oh whispered those words before walking out. That smug confidence of his gripped Seo-ha’s gaze and refused to let go until the door clicked shut.
Fine. He’d admit it—most people would probably feel too unsettled to ignore something like that. But so what?
“Yeah. Let’s see what happens.”
He didn’t want to be dragged around anymore.
Seo-ha glared fiercely, eyes burning with resistance.
