Han Ju-oh, having just torn through the training room in a storm, came face-to-face with an unexpected figure.
Standing squarely in front of the door was Seo-ha, blocking the entrance. Han Ju-oh glanced to the side to confirm the number—302. This was definitely his own apartment, so why was Baek Seo-ha standing there?
“Not even a little happy to see me?”
Seo-ha’s curt remark deepened the grim expression on Han Ju-oh’s face. His brow furrowed so sharply it carved a distinct line across his forehead.
“Wow, even after I signed the contract, huh? Even freshly divorced couples greet each other better than this.”
Han Ju-oh’s expression relaxed slightly, startled by the jab. His spirit seemed to falter. Was it really necessary to mention marriage and divorce? Not that he was forbidden from saying those words, but it was hard not to be conscious of them.
“How did you know this was my place?”
Han Ju-oh went with the most basic question.
“I called and asked. It was either here or here anyway.”
Seo-ha pointed at 302 and 303 in turn. For reference, his own unit was 301.
“I—”
“If you were about to ask how I knew it would be the unit next door, don’t bother. That’s too cliché. You trailed me so persistently, there’s no way you’d have picked a place far away.”
What was so hard to guess about that?
Han Ju-oh didn’t respond. Seo-ha’s nonchalant tone made further questioning unnecessary. He had intended to bring this up anyway—Seo-ha just beat him to it.
“Not even a little curious why I came?”
“Let’s go inside first.”
There was no way Han Ju-oh would pass up this chance, not when Seo-ha had come to him willingly. When Seo-ha moved aside without resistance, Han Ju-oh stepped up to enter the passcode but hesitated.
“What are you doing? Just punch it in.”
“Isn’t it common courtesy not to look at times like this?”
“Just open it already.”
Seo-ha shoved him forward without preamble. Han Ju-oh keyed in the code, and the door unlocked. He turned to signal Seo-ha to come in—but Seo-ha remained rooted to the spot.
“What is that, supreme confidence no one’s going to break into your home? Why would you choose a code like that?”
There was the reason Seo-ha hadn’t followed him in.
“And this machine’s the problem too. You set your passcode as 1234 and didn’t even think twice?”
Muttering that the code was way too easy, Seo-ha strode inside ahead of him. Han Ju-oh held the door open and followed, curiosity growing about why Seo-ha had come.
Seo-ha walked around the apartment with his hands clasped behind his back, unusually quiet for someone like him. Maybe he was trying to be respectful since it wasn’t his place, but it was just as likely that something biting would come out of his mouth any second.
“I had a look around my apartment today.”
Which implied he hadn’t been in the right headspace yesterday, but he didn’t press the point.
“This place and mine… not much difference, huh?”
He pointed at the window.
“No curtains here either. Is that normal?”
“…Didn’t feel the need.”
“Really? No curtains in the bedroom either, right?”
Han Ju-oh didn’t respond, but that silence said enough. Seo-ha let out a deep sigh.
“I was going to ask if you could help with installing some, but now it looks like we’ll be going shopping together.”
Seo-ha muttered to himself, regardless of whether Han Ju-oh was listening or not, and sat down on the living room sofa—which, unsurprisingly, was exactly like his own. Maybe it was a good thing Han Ju-oh had been assigned a fully furnished apartment.
“I came because I have something to say.”
Tilting his head in a gesture that said “come sit,” Han Ju-oh approached almost gleefully, but Seo-ha abruptly grabbed his wrist.
“Are you out of your damn mind?”
Seo-ha cursed the moment he saw the numbers displayed on the wristwatch. Han Ju-oh pressed his lips together, saying nothing, but even as he initiated guiding, Seo-ha didn’t stop scolding him.
“If you were getting proper guiding, I wouldn’t say a word. But with your danger levels this high, what the hell were you thinking flying around like that?”
“Who told you I live here?”
“Guild Leader Kim Mi-yeon.”
At Seo-ha’s answer, Han Ju-oh recalled Kim Mi-yeon handing him the keys yesterday. He’d requested to live next door and got a scolding from her for it—so when had she tipped off Seo-ha?
“…Through her secretary, Guide Lee Jeong-min, and a few others I know.”
“……”
So it hadn’t been Kim Mi-yeon after all.
As Han Ju-oh stayed silent, Seo-ha narrowed his eyes and gave a scoffing laugh.
“I never actually called Guild Leader Kim Mi-yeon.”
“Why not?”
“Why would I need to butter up someone who’s clearly on your side?”
Seo-ha’s disinterested tone pointed out exactly where Han Ju-oh had misjudged things.
“I’ve got plenty of connections in White Guild. No need to suck up to Guild Leader Kim Mi-yeon just to get intel. I can just ask around.”
Seo-ha patted the sofa with a light thump-thump.
“Didn’t expect that from you.”
“What, you saw me grilling Guide Lee Jeong-min yesterday.”
“You were probably trying to grill him about me.”
He had asked Lee Jeong-min about Han Ju-oh, twisting things to paint him as some kind of bastard. Seo-ha would admit as much—but he felt it had been a necessary precaution.
“It was my way of preparing.”
Even when Han Ju-oh’s eyebrows twitched in annoyance, Seo-ha showed not the slightest trace of intimidation.
“We misunderstood each other so much just because we didn’t know one another. I honestly thought you were a total piece of shit.”
“……”
“Oh, was that not a misunderstanding?”
Misinterpreting Han Ju-oh’s silence however he pleased, Seo-ha added the next words like it was all a joke.
“This world is small.”
The abrupt, contextless statement made Han Ju-oh’s eyes narrow. He looked like he was bracing himself for another curveball, but this time, Seo-ha kindly provided an explanation.
“It means everyone’s connected by just one degree of separation. If I ask around even a little, I can find out whatever I want.”
Unless it was something someone was actively trying to hide.
Hearing Seo-ha mutter this, Han Ju-oh was struck by a strange feeling. Seo-ha hadn’t just come to say he’d found out where he lived.
“I heard you took down a few Espers at the training center today, under the pretense of a training session.”
“……”
“And I also know those Espers were the same ones who slammed into the cafeteria walls like bullets yesterday.”
“Who told you that?”
That was why Han Ju-oh had been keeping unusually quiet around Seo-ha today. Sure, Seo-ha had come to him first, but Han Ju-oh had no intention of letting today’s events slip—not even by accident. But that only proved how little he understood Seo-ha.
“Tsk.”
Seo-ha clicked his tongue knowingly.
“You’ve heard those guys get trashed more times than you can count. Did you really have to go and pick a fight with them again?”
Strictly speaking, it hadn’t been a fight—more like a one-sided beatdown—but Seo-ha didn’t give Han Ju-oh a chance to explain.
“You know how it is in this industry. Even if I’m a nobody, if the Esper who has my back is ridiculously powerful, it pisses people off. Now imagine that Esper has a shitty attitude, is stupid hot, and has the whole world watching him. If Moon Roi showed up with some badass Esper on his arm, I’d probably lose my damn mind too.”
“……”
Han Ju-oh’s expression turned ambiguous. For someone supposedly acknowledging that he messed up, Seo-ha sure was adding a lot of flowery details.
“Besides, I hear White Guild is blowing up lately, huh? No wonder the building’s so over the top. Big signing bonuses, fancy housing—”
Seo-ha smacked his lips, thinking about the fat bonus that had landed in his bank account. It felt almost criminal to get paid that much, but apparently that was the standard base salary for guild members.
And on top of that, the monthly wages were huge—and the extra allowances? Practically a security blanket.
“So when the most valuable asset in the guild turns out to be my Esper, you can imagine why everyone’s staring daggers at me.”
Seo-ha just kept talking, apparently not even winded. Even Han Ju-oh, who usually knew when to cut through a conversation, had trouble figuring out what the hell he was trying to say. Was he asking why Han Ju-oh was being so ruthless toward all those jealous types?
“So what exactly are you trying to say?”
“I’m saying thank you.”
“……”
“……”
“……”
“Okay, now this is just awkward.”
With the silence dragging out unbearably, Seo-ha scratched the back of his neck and shifted the topic. But he didn’t take the thank you back. That had been the entire point of everything he’d said—it was sincere.
“Anyway… I’ve been thinking.”
Still getting no response from Han Ju-oh, Seo-ha hurried to change the subject again.
“Now that we’re a pair, we’ll be entering gates together, right? So we should sync up a bit beforehand.”
“Sync up…”
Han Ju-oh spread his hand flat. Seo-ha frowned at the gesture, but then, for some reason, reached out and placed his own hand on top.
Their hand sizes differed by about half a knuckle.
“I might not be able to help, but I’ll at least try not to get in your way. So don’t push me away just because I’m a pain.”
Even with Seo-ha saying he’d come today and would continue to stick around, Han Ju-oh didn’t turn him away.
“So… don’t you have anything to drink?”
Seo-ha pointed toward the fridge, clearly signaling that, as the guest, he expected to be offered something. Han Ju-oh didn’t budge.
Seo-ha, quick to pick up on the atmosphere, nodded in understanding.
“So the fridge is just for show, huh.”
