Holding down Eun-jo’s trembling body, Lee Sang-heon pressed a kiss to his smooth, elegant forehead.
“You’re mine.”
“…Hngh, uuh…”
“My Guide.”
A brilliant light burst over Eun-jo’s forehead. As it faded, it left behind an Imprint mark. Lee Sang-heon traced the vivid brand with his fingers, the corners of his lips curling into a satisfied smile.
“Finally.”
A deep, visceral sense of fulfillment settled in his chest. It felt like Yeo Eun-jo had finally come under his protection—completely within his domain. Marked as one of his own. Lee Sang-heon let out a low, possessive growl at the thought.
Smooch, smooch—he showered Eun-jo with kisses. Lying limp, Eun-jo let out a faint groan and reached shakily toward his own forehead.
“It’s wearing off… Haa, stop it already…”
“That’s mine, you know.”
“…What are you even saying?” Eun-jo barely managed to open his eyes, blinking up at him in confusion. “It’s my forehead.”
“Nope. It’s my bride’s forehead.”
Smooch. Another kiss landed before Lee Sang-heon added with a playful grin,
“I even left a mark. Claimed it as mine.”
Eun-jo tilted his head down. His reflection rippled on the lake’s surface. Turning this way and that to get a better look, he suddenly froze, then slowly lifted his gaze to meet Lee Sang-heon’s.
A mark. Espers only had one kind of stamp they could leave.
“…Wait. Did you just—did you Imprint me…?”
“Yep.”
Lee Sang-heon nodded casually. Eun-jo jerked his head back around to stare at his reflection again.
Then… am I going to awaken as an S-Rank?
Outwardly, nothing looked different. He didn’t feel any sudden surge of power, and there wasn’t any noticeable change in his guiding ability either.
What the hell?
In the original novel, the protagonist awakened as an S-Rank after receiving four Imprints, so it should happen to him too. He’d met all the conditions.
Was it really supposed to happen this vaguely? Still dazed, Eun-jo stared at his own face when a hand gently cupped his cheek.
“I hope you come back.”
Lee Sang-heon brushed his thumb along Eun-jo’s skin and murmured softly,
“Because you’re mine…”
“I really liked it.”
His expression was unusually sincere. With a faint smile, he pulled Eun-jo into a tight embrace.
The arms around him were solid. It’s time to go, came the quiet voice—and Eun-jo’s eyes slowly drifted shut.
Everything.
A hazy afterimage lingered in the dark. Children, calling out Dad, running into his arms.
***
“Nngh…”
His head was spinning. Not even the highway ride from Busan to Seoul for a movie shoot had made him this dizzy. Groaning, Eun-jo clutched at his stomach as nausea churned.
“Yeo Eun-jo! Snap out of it!”
“……”
“Yeo Eun-jo!”
Who the hell is yelling like that… The shouting was quickly followed by a hand tugging hard at his collar, and Eun-jo instinctively grimaced.
“Yeo Eun-jo!”
As his vision slowly cleared, Eun-jo saw a man kneeling on one knee in front of him. It wasn’t Park Se-yul, Jin Mu-seong, or Jung Tae-seok. This was someone he’d never seen before.
The man had a rugged charm. His face was round and sun-kissed, like a well-baked potato, with gentle eyes and naturally full lips. His features were simple, but there was a subtle, inexplicable handsomeness about him.
The moment their eyes met—deep, dark, and unwavering—Eun-jo remembered.
Ah.
There was one genuinely kind romantic lead in this story. The Esper from Team A who’d been deployed overseas and hadn’t returned.
Heo Nan-gyeom.
And now the urgency in his expression made perfect sense. Heo Nan-gyeom had the ability to open and close Gates. If this was a psychic-type Gate, he’d have figured it out right away.
While Eun-jo was still piecing things together, Heo Nan-gyeom suddenly cupped his face and leaned in close. The swift, unexpected proximity made Eun-jo suck in a sharp breath.
They were close enough to feel each other’s breath. Heo Nan-gyeom tilted his head ever so slightly, keeping his eyes locked on Eun-jo’s. The angle—the tension—made it seem like their lips were about to meet. Instinctively, Eun-jo squeezed his eyes shut.
And in that moment, he heard it—a faint, gritted grinding sound from Heo Nan-gyeom’s clenched jaw.
“You…!”
He pulled back, eyes narrowing into a cold, piercing glare. The warmth and urgency from before vanished, replaced with something far more chilling. Eun-jo, startled, reached up to touch his own face.
“…Are you really Yeo Eun-jo?”
His heart dropped like a stone.
“Answer me. Are you truly Yeo Eun-jo?”
Eun-jo’s mind kicked into overdrive. In the original novel, Heo Nan-gyeom was the only one who treated the protagonist like a decent human being. If anyone had gotten close to the original Yeo Eun-jo, it was probably him.
This is bad.
People like Park Se-yul, Jung Tae-seok, and even Lee Sang-heon had believed his act mostly because they hadn’t really known the real Eun-jo to begin with. Even readers of the novel didn’t get much detail about the supporting character Yeo Eun-jo—so most people wouldn’t notice if he slipped up.
But not this guy.
He had to stay calm. Panic would only make him more suspicious. Lifting his head from Heo Nan-gyeom’s arms, Eun-jo gave him a teasing smile.
“Then who else would I be?”
“No.”
The answer came instantly—no hesitation.
“Eun-jo doesn’t look people in the eye.”
“……”
“If you were really him, you’d have noticed something was off the moment I started talking casually.”
“……”
“This is the first time I’ve ever spoken to him like that.”
Son of a bitch. He hadn’t known about the Imprint—but that near kiss? It was a setup. A deliberate test. Eun-jo edged slightly away from the hand still resting on his nape and forced another smile.
“What are you even talking abou—”
SKREEEEEE! A familiar screech cut through the air before he could finish. Both of them turned toward the entrance of the cave. Just from the number of shadows cast, there had to be dozens of enemies approaching.
“We’ll finish this later.”
Heo Nan-gyeom wrapped an arm around Eun-jo and readjusted his sword with the other. The blade sliced cleanly through the air—and a Gate opened in the rift. Without the slightest hesitation, he leapt into it.
My puppy…! Lee Sang-heon!
Eun-jo screamed silently as his eyes locked onto Lee Sang-heon’s crumpled figure lying on the ground. That was the last thing he saw.
***
Passing through the Gate felt like getting dragged through a staticky, black-and-white TV screen. Somewhere in that distorted space, Eun-jo lost consciousness.
Carrying him on his back, Heo Nan-gyeom emerged in front of the regional Esper Center.
Emergency tents were lined up in front of the collapsed main entrance. Beside them, a temporary access point had been set up separately.
“Esper Heo Nan-gyeom!”
“Are you injured? What’s Guide Yeo Eun-jo’s condition?”
The Center staff rushed over as soon as they spotted them, medical kits and a stretcher clutched at their sides.
Just then, a strong gust of wind swept through. As the staff blinked and shielded their eyes, three more figures appeared beside Heo Nan-gyeom—already there, as if they’d materialized out of thin air. It was Park Se-yul, Jung Tae-seok, and Jin Mu-seong, who had been standing vigil in front of the Gate.
“Yeo Eun-jo.”
“Baby…!”
Without a second thought, Park Se-yul and Jin Mu-seong reached out to him. Jung Tae-seok, however, just flinched—unable to even say his name. He didn’t have the right.
“Fuck…”
Yeo Eun-jo, cradled in Heo Nan-gyeom’s arms, was completely pale. His shoulder was soaked in blood—likely from a monster—and his wrists and the backs of his hands were swollen, bruised a deep reddish-black.
It felt like falling into an abyss. If Heo Nan-gyeom hadn’t been there—if he hadn’t been able to open and close Gates freely—Eun-jo might have been lost forever. Normally, Jung Tae-seok would’ve stormed in, cursed everyone out, and yanked Eun-jo straight out of Heo Nan-gyeom’s arms.
But now, he could only stare in silence.
“Back off.”
Heo Nan-gyeom calmly brushed off the hands Park Se-yul and Jin Mu-seong had stretched toward Eun-jo.
“Esper Lee Sang-heon is still inside the Gate.”
“And what the hell does that have to do with me?”
Jin Mu-seong’s voice came low and ragged, nearly snapping. He was seconds away from losing it.
“Put him down. Before I fucking kill you.”
“Aren’t you going to destroy the Gate?”
“I said, give him to me.”
“Team Leader Jin.”
Realizing logic wasn’t working, Heo Nan-gyeom turned to Park Se-yul instead. Pressing him silently for a response, his eyes didn’t waver. Park Se-yul swallowed hard. He felt like he was about to lose it too—but the responsibility of being Team A’s leader kept him barely grounded. He finally opened his mouth, voice low.
“So what, we just leave the Gate that trapped Yeo Eun-jo untouched?”
Jin Mu-seong’s bloodshot eyes dropped to Eun-jo’s shoulder. The shirt might’ve hidden the wound, but the evidence of what he’d endured was impossible to miss.
