#Trending Video #3 (↑2)
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He wants all the perks of being a Guide without lifting a finger if it doesn’t benefit him—a textbook power tripper, Guide L.
Thanks to his sky-high innate ranking, no one dares to stop him even when he throws tantrums or barks orders. But recently, his antics have reportedly crossed a line.
Today on Fact Asylum, we’ve brought in someone who suffered firsthand under Guide L’s abuse. Brace yourselves—our guest is none other than the direct family member of Guide L’s own Bonded Pair Esper. They’ve lost their job, are on the verge of being evicted, and all of it allegedly stems from Guide L’s overreach. What exactly happened? Let’s hear the story from them directly.
– Hello, I’m Park Seon-jun. My family had been living abroad, just the three of us, but we recently returned to Korea.
(And your younger sibling stayed behind because…?)
– Right, because they awakened as an Esper.
– I first met him after I got back… At first, he treated me to meals and seemed genuinely considerate. I thought he was just a kind person. But then things started to feel off. He wouldn’t let me contact my brother unless I went through him. Even when I begged just to see my brother’s face to know he was okay, he refused—he had control over visitation rights and wouldn’t allow it.
– I should’ve realized something was wrong back then. I regret it so much.
…(cut)…
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(Record-Breaking) High-Ranking Guide’s Abuse Scandal Explodes
7.08 million views · 6 days ago
4.3K comments
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– Guide Lee Han-seo, any comment?!
– Is Park Seon-jun telling the truth?
– Guide Lee Han-seo!!
Nearly a week had passed since the scandal broke, yet Lee Han-seo’s name still dominated every screen. No matter which channel you flipped to, the stories kept pouring out like a leaky faucet—nonstop and overwhelming.
The most replayed footage was from the day after Park Seon-jun’s bombshell: Lee Han-seo, alone, facing a swarm of reporters at a temporary press station set up outside the Esper Affairs Center’s main entrance.
— “I sincerely apologize for the concern and distress caused by this unfortunate incident.”
His sunken cheeks and tired eyes gave away how much he’d been through, and his naturally tousled hair made him look disheveled. Still, his tailored suit gave him a subtle polish. It had only been a single night, but the toll showed. The top-tier stylists and makeup artists who had rushed to his side clearly worked overtime to salvage his appearance—no one would’ve guessed this was the same guy who’d stuffed his face with ramen and rice the night before and gone to bed all puffy-faced.
— “This all happened so suddenly, so I don’t have a detailed statement yet. Please give us a little more time—we’ll release a proper announcement soon. I’m truly sorry.”
Onscreen, he bowed deeply, his face shadowed with concern. Even though he thought he’d come to terms with things, the anger still boiled just beneath the surface.
The moment Lee Han-seo reached out and shut off the screen, a loud, obnoxious laugh burst from behind him.
“Pffft, hahaha… Oh man, that’s priceless. Jung-hyuk, did you see his face?”
“Hyung, Han-seo’s right here. Keep it down.”
“I’ve seen some wild stuff in my time, but this? This takes the cake. God, I laughed so hard I’m tearing up.”
Kim Joon-young, lying with his head on Lee Jung-hyuk’s lap, was doubled over, clutching his stomach from laughing too hard. Jung-hyuk shot him a warning glance, but it didn’t help.
Fed up, Lee Han-seo blindly grabbed the nearest cushion and chucked it at Kim Joon-young’s face. It landed with a loud thump, but Joon-young just kept on laughing.
“Can you not?”
“Can’t help it—it’s hilarious. And hey, this has been going on for days now. Way hotter than the mess I caused, huh? That’s our Han-seo—always outshining the rest!”
Joon-young’s mouth ran on and on until Jung-hyuk finally clamped a hand over it to shut him up.
A few years back, Joon-young had blown the lid off the lab and Center’s top brass for practically torturing him with nonstop experiments and missions. That exposé had rocked the system. But even that didn’t stir up this kind of firestorm.
In terms of gravity, Joon-young’s revelations had flipped the entire organization on its head. But in the public eye? Nothing came close to this.
Lee Han-seo’s image had been stuck in time—forever that sweet-faced boy flashing innocent smiles at the camera, barely older than a teen. So the sudden accusations of abuse hit even harder.
And it wasn’t just about him. Han-seo was practically a walking advertisement for the corporation run by his grandfather. Rival companies weren’t about to waste a golden opportunity—they subtly pushed the media, fueling the outrage to fan the flames.
Park Seon-jun’s endless barrage of revelations had become the perfect trigger.
And the nosy internet crowd? It was like every netizen in Korea had some vague connection to the Esper Affairs Center.
The group’s main office TF team and even Han-seo’s father’s law firm were scrambling to monitor every site, comment, and community thread in real time. But with every blink, new rumors sprouted—friends of cousins of ex-colleagues of seniors of juniors, all suddenly claiming they knew someone and spreading all sorts of dirt about Lee Han-seo.
Worst of all? Some of those rumors weren’t entirely false.
For instance, there was a particularly nasty rumor going around—that Lee Han-seo had blackmailed his Bonded Pair Esper with Guiding and forced him to enter dungeons alone for years. When someone leaked a dungeon entry report to back it up, the story started to look all too convincing. Compared to Park Woo-jun, who was constantly deployed with barely a break, Han-seo had only started entering dungeons within the last six months—if you were being generous.
Park Seon-jun, ever the scandal-hungry opportunist, jumped on the bait. He popped up on yet another livestream, squeezing out fake tears as he sobbed about how heartless Lee Han-seo was—how he’d ruthlessly cast aside the family that had sacrificed everything to save their suffering brother. He claimed Han-seo not only forced them out of their home but also used his influence to get him fired. Every pathetic, trembling sniffle got turned into headlines, spreading far and wide.
Whether Han-seo went to the training grounds or into a dungeon, the curious stares never left him. It was exhausting. That’s why he’d taken a personal leave of absence—unpaid. Aside from the fact that Park Woo-jun had to go into dungeons alone again, nothing about Han-seo’s routine had changed much. Being on leave didn’t mean he stopped Guiding Woo-jun.
It was Woo-jun, not Han-seo, who looked uneasy these days. So until Woo-jun returned from his current mission, Han-seo decided to stay a few days at Kim Joon-young and Lee Jung-hyuk’s place.
“Why is it so funny when Han-seo puts on a serious face? Hey, do it for us just once. Think of it as your rent. Come on, just once.”
From his spot on the sofa, Kim Joon-young reached out with his foot and poked Han-seo in the back, clearly enjoying himself far too much. In hindsight, staying here might not have been the wisest idea. Han-seo glared instead of replying, and as always, it was Jung-hyuk who got caught in the middle. He clamped a hand over Joon-young’s mouth again and muttered an apology.
“Sorry, Han-seo. But you know hyung worries about you, right? He’s just… got a weird way of showing it.”
“It’s fine. You don’t have to apologize.”
“So… how long are you planning to just sit and watch? You’ve already got everything you need to turn this around.”
What Han-seo feared most was people digging into Park Woo-jun’s past. He didn’t want anyone finding out that Woo-jun had been adopted—or worse, that he’d been abused by his adoptive family. He hated the thought of strangers pitying Woo-jun, looking down on him like they understood a damn thing.
That’s why, even after getting Park Dong-wook locked up and exposing the family’s scandals, Han-seo had still tried to dial it back. Just enough damage for the buzz to die down in a few days. Nothing too permanent.
But they were the ones who tossed that mercy aside.
“It’s out now, so I may as well go all in. I’ll make sure they never lift their heads again.”
If they didn’t want mercy, then fine—he’d show them what it meant to burn it all down.
What on earth were they thinking? Going this far without a plan? Han-seo didn’t even need to release the video of Park Dong-wook slapping him. He had mountains of text messages—some outright demanding money. Just a few of those would be enough to flip the public back to his side. They’d stop screaming his name and start throwing stones at Park Seon-jun and his parents.
He already had the narrative ready: Park Seon-jun, using Woo-jun as leverage, kept making unreasonable financial demands. Han-seo, pushed too far, cut them off. In retaliation, they fabricated lies. And when Seon-jun assaulted him at the Center, Han-seo had even pleaded with the prosecutor for leniency, getting the charges dropped.
Add a few tears and a heartfelt line about wanting to protect Woo-jun’s family despite everything, and the public would be eating out of his hand again in no time.
Sure, right now, the internet was hanging onto Seon-jun’s every word like it was scripture. But even among his claims, there were contradictions everywhere.
That house he said he was being kicked out of? On one show, he claimed it had always been theirs until Han-seo forcibly bought it and gave it to someone else. On another, he insisted it was property Woo-jun had owned, but because his kind-hearted, gullible little brother had been gaslit through Guiding, he’d handed it over to Han-seo willingly.
The lawyers figured Park Seon-jun hadn’t planned any of this—he’d just thrown a tantrum, and things snowballed from there. Still, every single one of his claims was now being dissected, refuted, and neatly laid out for counterattack.
Han-seo had nothing to hide. He had the facts. He wasn’t the one who needed to be afraid.
Even Park Seon-jun’s parents had finally shut up, lying low with their heads down. The only one still running wild was Seon-jun himself. Just yesterday, he launched his own channel and put on a teary performance begging viewers to help save his “abused little brother.”
“But hyung… you know what’s weird?”
“What?”
“I thought it’d feel amazing, tearing them down like this. Like, I’d be pumped. Relieved. Something.”
“……”
“But now that everything’s in place… it’s just not fun. At all.”
Han-seo would still finish what he started—he had no intention of stopping now. But separate from that…
For the first time, the world around him felt dull. Stiflingly bland.
So predictably miserable that it was almost impressive.
“Maybe you’re just burned out. Want to grab a drink later?”
“Nah. Not in the mood… Ugh, I don’t know. Maybe I’m having a late-blooming teenage rebellion.”
The mood clouding his so-called late puberty felt dangerously close to nihilism.
A world this fragile, that could be upended by one man’s grudge. A world this boring, and yet still something people insisted on protecting. And for what?
Why the hell are we living like this?
“……”
“……”
Lee Jung-hyuk, sitting beside him on the sofa, watched Han-seo with a deeply worried expression. Han-seo bit back the words rising to his lips and shook his head, brushing it off like it was nothing.
