His mind was a tangled mess of thoughts, and in the end, he figured he might as well try to sleep. He hadn’t meant to drift off—he’d only closed his eyes for a moment—but at some point, sleep must have taken him. When he came to and opened his eyes, the room was dim.
A glance at the clock told him it was 2 a.m. He tried to go back to sleep, but his head was too clear. There was no way he’d manage it now. Reaching out to turn on the light, Tae-rim noticed something stuck to his hand. Under the light, he saw it was a Post-it with a short message scrawled across it.
– Contact me immediately when you wake up. Jung Jae-heon.
It was the middle of the night—was it really okay to call? He hesitated, but the word immediately didn’t leave much room for doubt. He made the call.
[You’re awake?]
Jung Jae-heon answered almost before the first ring finished, as if he’d been waiting.
“Yes.”
[How’s your condition?]
“I’m fine.”
[Do you think you can guide right now?]
“Yes.”
[Then can you come here for a bit?]
He gave an address in the hospital wing—just upstairs from Tae-rim’s floor. Tae-rim smoothed down his bedhead with one hand and stepped into the elevator, heading toward the lab Jung Jae-heon had mentioned.
“Ah, you’re here.”
“You’ve arrived?”
“Yes, hello.”
Despite the late hour, the lab was full of people. Even the Center Director was present. Tae-rim felt oddly self-conscious in his patient gown and messy hair, surrounded by people in professional attire.
“You’ve come, Guide Lee Tae-rim. I know this is a lot to ask, especially given your condition, but could you guide that Esper for us?”
A man who looked like a doctor gestured toward a glass-partitioned room. Inside, someone lay motionless on a bed.
“He’s been sedated, so there’s no danger.”
Tae-rim nodded and walked over, opening the door and stepping into the enclosed space. The glass was mirrored from the inside—he couldn’t see out—but he could feel countless eyes watching him. He approached the bed and checked on the Esper.
It was the same young man Tae-rim had rescued earlier that day. His limbs were bound to the bed, suggesting he’d put up some resistance. Tae-rim took the Esper’s hand, which was cuffed. The energy radiating from him was far more stable than before, but still erratic—just barely holding back from a rampage.
He calmly pushed guiding energy into the Esper’s body. The wild internal waves responded immediately, latching onto his energy like a starving beast sensing prey. Then suddenly, the limp hand in his grasp tightened around his.
Startled, Tae-rim turned his head. The Esper was trying to open his eyes.
What now? Should he stop? Continue guiding? He hesitated, but no one gave him further instructions, so he simply carried on.
“Ugh…”
The Esper looked at him—and then burst into tears. Thick drops spilled from his eyes, and Tae-rim froze, startled. The young man’s gaze was brimming with sorrow.
There was something desperate in the way he clung to him. Looking more closely, Tae-rim realized the Esper was young—still a boy, really. It was hard to guess his exact age, but he was clearly younger than Tae-rim. And suddenly, Tae-rim felt an ache of pity.
Molt, the anti-government group, had used Espers in horrific experiments. No one really knew what their end goal had been, but what was clear was that they’d created K, their so-called final weapon, through those twisted means.
The novel had ended with K being defeated by Kwon Hae-beom. Of course, since The Good Guide was a romance, the story hadn’t gone deep into Molt or their objectives. What the readers wanted wasn’t the takedown of an anti-government faction—they wanted flirty banter between the leads and steamy sex scenes.
Still, this Esper must’ve been one of the test subjects. The thought made Tae-rim’s chest tighten. He pushed his energy in a little harder.
In response, the Esper’s unstable waves surged forward, devouring his energy greedily, like a beast gorging itself.
“Don’t… go…”
The words were barely a whisper, but Tae-rim heard them. The voice was so pitiful, so fragile, it left him stunned. As the Esper’s energy settled, his breathing steadied. He must’ve felt safe—he drifted off to sleep again.
“That’s enough, Guide Lee Tae-rim.”
“Understood.”
He wasn’t sure the readings had fully stabilized—he would’ve preferred to guide a bit longer—but they were calling him from outside, so he had no choice. Letting go of the Esper’s hand, he stepped out of the room.
“Guide Lee Tae-rim.”
“Yes.”
Outside, the mood had grown noticeably tense. It was clear a lot had been said while he was inside.
“That Esper is currently only responsive to your energy.”
“…Excuse me?”
“Guides Lee Yeong-jun and Bae Jieun both attempted guiding. They failed. Matching Rate came up as 0%.”
“Zero?”
Tae-rim frowned. That shouldn’t have been possible. No matter how incompatible a Guide and Esper were, it was nearly unheard of to register a zero—unless the Esper had already imprinted on someone.
“Guide Lee Tae-rim, do you remember who that Esper is?”
“Yes. He’s the one who went into a rampage in District 1-8, right?”
“Correct. The Esper you saved.”
So what was this all leading to? The doctor speaking on behalf of the group looked unusually serious. Tae-rim glanced at Jung Jae-heon, who met his gaze with a vague, unreadable smile. Something felt off.
“It appears that Esper has imprinted on you.”
“…What?”
Tae-rim blinked, baffled. That didn’t make any sense. As far as he knew, imprinting was a mutual process between a Guide and an Esper. He certainly hadn’t imprinted on that Esper. So what were they talking about?
“Well… according to published case studies, although it’s rare, there are times when newly awakened Espers—unable to handle their powers and on the verge of a rampage—end up imprinting on the first Guide who stabilizes them. Since the Guide doesn’t imprint back, it’s considered an incomplete imprint. That said, we believe this imprint occurs as a survival instinct. The Esper latches onto the Guide in order to stay alive.”
The doctor paused, letting out a short breath as his expression shifted to something more troubled.
“Once imprinted, the Esper only accepts energy from that specific Guide and rejects all others. It usually fades once the Esper feels safe again… but the imprint does affect the Guide as well. The Esper instinctively tries to monopolize their Guide, overlaying the Guide’s energy with their own wavelength.”
Then the doctor turned to him with a calm, even tone.
“Guide Lee Tae-rim, would you try guiding Esper Jung Jae-heon?”
Jung Jae-heon stepped forward, holding out his hand. Tae-rim took it and began the guiding process.
“…!”
It wasn’t working like it usually did. It wasn’t completely blocked, but the energy flow was sluggish—almost stifled. Despite a 73% Matching Rate with Jung Jae-heon, it felt closer to the 62% he shared with Jin Yun-tae.
“How is it?”
“It’s… not good. Something’s interfering with the guiding. It feels just like when I’m guiding Esper Jin Yun-tae.”
It was like a sheet had been stretched taut across a flowing river, interrupting the current. The disruption didn’t feel natural—it was artificial, imposed. The resistance irritated him more than he expected.
“I knew it…”
Tae-rim released Jung Jae-heon’s hand and glanced down at his own. This wasn’t the time for setbacks—he needed every bit of training he could get. Jung Jae-heon gave him a look of quiet sympathy, but the doctor seemed downright elated.
“To disrupt guiding by nearly 10%… That Esper must have an incredibly powerful wavelength—even among S-rank Espers. We still need to run full diagnostics, but there’s a chance he may even surpass Kwon Hae-beom.”
“Oh? Is that so?”
“Yes.”
Tae-rim fell silent, mulling it over. Then he’s not K, after all. K had been strong, but in the end, he’d lost to Kwon Hae-beom. That meant Kwon Hae-beom had been the stronger of the two.
Tae-rim let out a soft sigh. Still… he’d saved someone. That was worth something.
“Guide Lee Tae-rim.”
“Yes, Director.”
“Take care of that Esper, would you?”
“…Pardon?”
“He’s a newly awakened S-rank Esper. Since we pulled him out of a Molt facility, we’ll need to verify that he’s stable and not a threat. But assuming all goes well, I think it’s in our best interest to bring him into our ranks.”
“I see…”
“By the time you’ve had a few days of proper rest, all the evaluations should be finished. Take two or three days off. Don’t push yourself to guide anyone in the meantime.”
“…Understood.”
“And thank you. You made the right decision in a critical moment and returned safely. We almost lost some of our most valuable talent. I don’t even want to imagine what could’ve happened.”
The Center Director gave a warm chuckle and patted Tae-rim on the shoulder. What followed was an avalanche of praise—about how talented he’d always been, about how being a genius didn’t change even with memory loss. The flattery came so earnestly it made Tae-rim want to crawl out of his skin.
Still, as the compliments kept coming, the pieces finally clicked into place. In the novel, Kwon Hae-beom had repeatedly demanded that the Director transfer Lee Tae-rim to another district. But the Director had always responded vaguely, never giving a definitive answer. Now Tae-rim understood why.
They were both S-rank. The Director hadn’t wanted to lose either of them.
His intentions were obvious. Maybe the person who really bothered the Director wasn’t Tae-rim—but Choi Jiwoon, the B-rank Guide. If Kwon Hae-beom had chosen Tae-rim instead…
Then maybe the one who wanted that the most wasn’t Tae-rim at all—but the Director.
Tae-rim had wanted to continue guiding the Esper, but Dr. Han had insisted he stop, saying Tae-rim might not feel it now, but he had pushed himself too hard already. The last session was more than enough. And more importantly, since the investigation wasn’t complete, there was no telling what might happen if the Esper was left in a stable state without supervision.
After hearing that, Tae-rim had no choice but to return to his room.
But he couldn’t shake the image of those sorrowful eyes staring up at him. They haunted him. It had felt like the Esper was silently scolding him for being late.
Tae-rim found himself hoping—really hoping—that he’d be able to guide him properly next time.
