The moment veins bulged across Hong Seong-jun’s temple, the cord that had been cinched so tightly it felt like it was cutting into his skin suddenly loosened.
His thick wrist had thinned to an almost unbelievable degree—as if it had been stretched like taffy. It was now no wider than a 500-won coin.
It was his first time witnessing Espers in combat—let alone at such an alarmingly close distance.
Espers usually used their abilities only in designated areas: during dungeon raids, when monsters escaped from portals, or inside training facilities.
He had read that using powers in front of civilians, including Guides, was strictly prohibited.
Since waking up here, he had only traveled between Lee Haru’s house and the restaurants on the building’s first floor—at most venturing out to visit the Guide Management Department.
It feels like I’ve stepped into a movie.
In the world he came from, there were no stories about Espers or Guides. But there had been plenty of films and dramas featuring psychics or magicians.
It was a scene straight out of one of those.
Hong Seong-jun’s arm transformed the moment he broke free of Kang Min’s restraints. Though he had known Hong Seong-jun was a physical transformation-type Esper, he had never imagined his combat style would look like this.
One of Hong Seong-jun’s arms grew grotesquely large, far out of proportion with the rest of his body.
His clothes shredded apart, and in the blink of an eye, that massive arm—thick enough to rival Lee Haru’s torso—came crashing toward Kang Min’s head.
Fwoooosh—
The sound followed the motion. The sheer force of it was enough to whip Lee Haru’s bangs backward over his forehead, despite him standing right beside them.
Screeeech—
It was not just his hair that got swept up. The sofa he had been slumped against let out a sharp screech as it was shoved back into the wall.
If I take even a glancing blow, I’m dead.
Lee Haru’s complexion had gone ghostly pale—so drained of color that it now bordered on a sickly blue.
Still bleeding from the nose, he did not even think to wipe it away as he staggered to his feet.
If he stayed there, vulnerable, all of Kang Min’s effort to protect him would be for nothing. He would die anyway.
As he scrambled behind the sofa to hide, wings of blood burst open from Kang Min’s back.
Smack—
“Gah…!”
Just before Hong Seong-jun’s fist could collide with the side of Kang Min’s face, it slammed into the blood-red wings instead.
They were clearly made of blood—yet they did not give way. No matter how much force Hong Seong-jun exerted, veins bulging across his neck, the wings stood firm like an impenetrable wall.
“Hong Seong-jun. Snap out of it.”
Kang Min’s gaze turned glacial. If he had arrived even a second later, Lee Haru would have been dead.
He had not been pleased when upper management ordered him to accept Lee Haru as the team’s designated Guide for a minimum of six months.
He had only agreed because he wanted to avoid unnecessary complications.
Living together and having Lee Haru constantly clinging to him had been annoying enough. But defying the rigid, by-the-book higher-ups would have brought even greater headaches. Choosing the lesser evil had seemed like the smarter move.
But not once had he ever thought of killing Lee Haru. Espers, by their very nature, were vulnerable to Guides.
The Association poured billions into developing Guiding devices every year, but no machine could come close to replicating the real thing.
Guiding through a machine was not only inefficient—it felt revolting. Like having your cells torn apart and stitched back together with barbed wire.
In contrast, receiving Guiding from a highly compatible, high-ranked Guide could verge on euphoric—an experience not unlike sexual pleasure.
To an Esper, a Guide was indispensable for survival.
Guides, unless actively using their abilities, had no more physical strength than the average civilian. They were fragile.
Some Espers treated Guides carelessly, but those individuals were either disciplined by the Association or taken care of by other Espers.
Until now, Hong Seong-jun had never shown disrespect toward a Guide. Kang Min had known he did not care for Lee Haru, but he had never imagined his dislike ran deep enough to turn murderous.
“RAAAAH—!”
Even Kang Min’s warning could not pierce the fog of rage clouding Hong Seong-jun’s mind. His eyes were wild, rolled halfway back as though he no longer recognized what he was doing.
His enlarged hand twisted again—this time morphing into a sharp spearhead—and shot toward Kang Min’s throat, aiming to pierce straight through.
Shraaack—
“Urgh…”
The tip of Kang Min’s crimson wing slashed across Hong Seong-jun’s waist. Blood sprayed through the torn fabric of his shirt, streaking through the air like paint across canvas.
Hong Seong-jun staggered backward, his feet carving trenches into the living room floor as he skidded away.
So this is what a battle between S-rank Espers looks like.
In truth, Lee Haru could barely track their movements.
Between the blood loss and the lingering effects of being strangled by Hong Seong-jun, his perception was dulled. But even someone with perfect 20/20 vision would probably only see faint afterimages of their motions.
Esper Kang Min is definitely stronger.
He had assumed the Team Leader would naturally be the most powerful. But he had never expected the difference between two S-ranks to be this overwhelming.
Wham—
“Guh— cough, cough…”
This time, the blow landed squarely. Hong Seong-jun was struck in the head by Kang Min’s wing and sent sprawling across the floor.
His once-handsome face was quickly ruined, smeared with blood pouring from his nose and mouth.
God, that was satisfying.
It was the kind of clean, cathartic moment that made the weight in his chest dissolve. Lee Haru had nearly been killed by Hong Seong-jun for reasons he still did not understand.
No matter what had happened between them, trying to kill someone who could not even fight back was indefensible. No excuse could justify that.
Now that it had come to this, it felt like Kang Min had punished Hong Seong-jun in his place.
“Hah… Even after all these years, I’m still no match for the Team Leader…”
Focus returned to Hong Seong-jun’s eyes. Planting a hand on the floor, he slowly pushed himself upright.
He spat a mouthful of blood to the side, then turned to stare directly at Lee Haru, who was still crouched behind the sofa.
His dark eyes, tinged with an eerie blue shimmer, radiated a disturbing madness.
Caught under that sudden intensity, Lee Haru forced his eyes open. But his body was already pushed to its limit—his pupils nearly rolling back, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness.
“I do not intend to report what happened today. But from this point on, you are forbidden from approaching Guide Lee Haru.”
Kang Min was the one to bring the situation under control. Hong Seong-jun gave a small nod in reply.
Even an S-rank Esper was not exempt—causing this level of harm to an S-rank Guide was grounds for disciplinary action.
The Association would immediately step in and separate them.
But that was not something Lee Haru would want—not after he had gone so far as to attempt suicide just to enter this mansion. Kang Min decided to end it here before things escalated further.
Without another word, Hong Seong-jun turned and disappeared up the stairs, brushing past Kang Min on the way.
“Guide Lee Haru.”
Kang Min approached Lee Haru, still curled up behind the sofa. He lowered himself to one knee and met his eyes.
Blood soaked him from head to toe—shirt, pants, every inch of him stained. A thin, steady trickle still ran beneath his nose.
“You are safe now. There is no need to be afraid anymore.”
Though Kang Min’s gaze remained cold, Lee Haru could sense the sincerity behind his words—he genuinely meant to protect him.
As the adrenaline drained away, his limbs gave out, and he slumped forward. Once again, he lost consciousness.
***
“The bleeding still hasn’t stopped.”
Kang Min cradled the unconscious Lee Haru in his arms and uncorked a recovery potion. He pressed his fingers under Lee Haru’s nose, but the blood showed no signs of letting up.
His pulse was weak. Deep blue bruises—shaped like fingers—marred his delicate neck, making Kang Min’s brow tighten.
“Guide Lee Haru, please… just wake up for a moment.”
If he did not get the potion into him soon, the situation could become truly dangerous. With no other option, Kang Min began trying to rouse him.
But aside from a faint twitch of his long, thick lashes, Lee Haru’s pitch-black eyes remained closed tight.
After a moment of hesitation, Kang Min brought the potion to his lips. Lowering his head, he gently pressed his mouth to Lee Haru’s bloodied lips.
He parted them carefully and let the potion flow in, coaxing it past with a flick of his tongue.
Lee Haru’s throat bobbed as he swallowed.
Kang Min repeated the process twice more before finally pulling away. His already-red lips now glistened with blood.
To someone unaware of the situation, it would have looked like he had bitten Lee Haru’s throat and drunk his blood.
“Why won’t you kiss me anymore…?”
He suddenly remembered—Lee Haru, looking up at him with those sorrowful eyes, voice trembling with longing.
“Do I even need a reason to want that?”
Up until now, Kang Min had never gone beyond holding Lee Haru’s hand, despite how persistently the Guide clung to him.
And yet… Lee Haru always acted like they were lovers. Every time they met, every word he spoke—it was as if the two of them had already shared something far more intimate.
As if, somewhere in the past, they had already kissed.
