“Hey, I heard Esper Kwon Hae-beom caught the bastard who did that to Guide Choi Jiwoon. Not many people know yet, though.”
“Hyo-il, where do you even hear stuff like that?”
“That’s a secret.”
Kim Hyo-il’s nonchalant reply left the three of them dumbfounded. This country had clearly lost a major talent. Kim Hyo-il shouldn’t have been a Guide—he should’ve been an intelligence agent.
“Is it true?”
“Yup. I don’t say things that aren’t.”
“When did you hear about it?”
“This morning. They caught him at dawn.”
“Whoa…”
Lee Jae-hwa stared at Kim Hyo-il, visibly impressed. Lee Tae-rim also looked shocked. He’d heard Hyo-il had a wide network, but this was on another level. How could he know about something that happened just this morning?
It felt like he knew everything except the top-secret intel meant only for S-ranks—or maybe he did know, and was just keeping his mouth shut because he knew it was classified. Tae-rim was stunned by Kim Hyo-il’s absurd information network.
“They say the moment Esper Kwon Hae-beom saw him, he started laughing like a lunatic and asked, ‘Did you enjoy the present I sent you?’”
Just how deep did Hyo-il’s connections run? To know details like that? Tae-rim could only marvel.
“Then what’s Esper Kwon Hae-beom’s condition right now…?”
“He’s in confinement.”
“What?”
“He got so worked up that Esper Jung Jae-heon had to restrain him and sedate him.”
“Then he won’t be part of the interrogation?”
“You think they’d let him near it? We all know how that would end.”
Yeah, fair enough. Tae-rim was seriously worried about what Kwon Hae-beom might do next. The guy lived like he had nothing to lose. At least Choi Jiwoon was still alive, so he probably wouldn’t do anything too drastic… but now that he’d found the one truly responsible? Who knew. He’d want revenge, no doubt.
Some of the people they caught had committed suicide, but quite a few had been captured alive before they could activate their self-destruct switches. No one knew which category the one who hurt Choi Jiwoon fell into, but either way, the ones they’d caught were all being interrogated by mental-type Espers. That meant everything that bastard had done would be recorded as the truth.
If he had the audacity to mention “the present I sent,” then he was definitely full of malicious intent. That’s what had Tae-rim worried. He really didn’t want Kwon Hae-beom to die. The living had to go on living.
Besides, Tae-rim had once saved Kwon Hae-beom from the brink of death with his own two hands. He’d pushed himself to the point of passing out to do it. If the guy went and died after that, he’d be seriously pissed. He’d want to scream, Give me back my Guiding energy!
“I wish Esper Kwon Hae-beom’s Guide would just magically appear out of nowhere.”
“Same. He looks like he could follow Choi Jiwoon to the grave any second now…”
“While we’re at it, Esper Jung Jae-heon could really use a Guide too…”
“…Yeah.”
The mood grew heavy. Since Jung Jae-heon was S-rank, the other Centers were probably already checking Matching Rates the moment a new Guide awakened. The Center always tried to provide S-rank Espers with a stable environment. Naturally, securing as many high-matching Guides as possible was a top priority.
“But is the reason Esper Jung Jae-heon isn’t popular really because he acts like some grumpy old man?”
“Well, yeah, that’s part of it. But it’s not the whole story. He draws this invisible line between himself and others. I don’t even think he realizes it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. It’s like he was badly hurt by a Guide before. He always keeps people at arm’s length.”
Tae-rim had never sensed anything like that. To him, Jung Jae-heon just seemed like a good person. Someone who worked hard and took his job seriously. Which made it even more unfortunate. He’s such a decent guy—why does no one see that?
“If he could just lower that wall, I bet a ton of people would jump at the chance to approach him. He’s got everything going for him.”
“He’s always whining that Esper Jeon Jun-pyo is more popular than him, but he’s just being dramatic. Esper Jung Jae-heon is just as popular, honestly.”
All S-rank Espers were popular by default—except for Choi Dong-ha, who’d completely fallen from grace. Even before his downfall, he had a bad reputation for only accepting Guiding from S-rank Guides.
For reference, the S-rank Guide with the second-highest Matching Rate with Choi Dong-ha after Tae-rim was Lee Yeong-jun. But since he’d pissed off Lee Yeong-jun, that option was off the table now too.
“Anyway, I’m seriously jealous of you, Tae-rim.”
“Huh? Why?”
“You’ve got an Esper with a 90% Matching Rate. People already treat you like royalty if it’s over 80%, but 90%? They’d practically worship you.”
“Haha, well, he does listen. He really does…”
“What? So he listens but doesn’t actually do anything?”
“No, no. He listens and follows through. Sometimes he’s a bit stubborn and won’t back down, but overall, he’s really good at taking direction.”
“Oh right—come to think of it, I remember seeing him beg you to cook for him once.”
“And did you?”
“Yeah. I made him soy sauce egg rice.”
“…….”
Silence fell over the group. The three of them stared at Lee Tae-rim like he’d committed some unforgivable offense. Tae-rim let out a small cough.
“I wanted to cook something else, but the fridge is always stocked with meal kits… even if I wanted to make something, there’s no need to.”
“That’s a pathetic excuse.”
“Ahem.“
“I mean, something simple like pasta would’ve worked, right?”
“Even pasta comes in all kinds of meal kits…”
“…Okay, maybe it’s not that easy after all.”
“Honestly, I never know what to make. I’m not that great at cooking, and I can’t exactly compete with professional chefs.”
“Fair enough… Hmm, then how about a lunchbox?”
“A lunchbox?”
“Don’t tell me there’s a lunchbox meal kit too.”
“Uh… no. I mean, I could make one, but Juho eats so much…”
“I’m not saying you need to make a buffet. Just one lunchbox—he’d still love it. If Esper Seon Juho has even the slightest sense of decency, he’s not gonna expect you to cook everything he eats.”
“You… think so?”
“Definitely. Which means you need to hit the grocery store right now.”
“…….”
A lunchbox hadn’t even occurred to him. With how much Seon Juho ate, the very idea felt overwhelming. But if it was just enough to fill a couple compartments in a bento box… maybe. Tae-rim made up his mind.
“I’m gonna give it a shot.”
“Good call. I bet Esper Seon Juho’s never had a real homemade lunchbox before. He’ll be over the moon.”
What should I put in it? Tae-rim was already stressing. With some final encouragement, the others headed back to their Guiding rooms. Tae-rim, left alone, pulled out his phone and started searching lunchbox ideas.
And in less than a minute, his confidence hit rock bottom.
Wait, are people doing actual art with lunchboxes now?
His self-esteem took a nosedive. It didn’t help that he’d only ever eaten school lunches growing up—he had no real experience with lunchboxes himself.
What do people even pack…?
He racked his brain for side dishes Juho liked.
Okay. Bulgogi was a must. Stir-fried potatoes and braised tofu—also must-haves. Maybe rolled omelet, to keep it classic? Beyond that, he drew a blank.
He opened the grocery section on a delivery app and ordered the ingredients.
On his way home after work, he brought it up to Juho—said he was thinking of packing him a lunchbox. Juho’s face lit up like the sun. Even when Tae-rim explained it’d be nothing fancy, Juho was so visibly happy, his imaginary tail might as well have been wagging.
Of course, Juho had no complaints about the menu. Since he’d need to wake up early to prepare it, Tae-rim sternly warned him: he had to be let go on time. If Juho clung to him in the morning, it would ruin everything.
And Juho kept his promise. That night, he didn’t try anything, and in the morning, he even woke up first to shake Tae-rim awake. Tae-rim couldn’t help but laugh.
At first, it had felt like a hassle. But seeing Juho that happy made him think… maybe making a few side dishes now and then wouldn’t be so bad.
He still believed a pro chef’s food was best, but Juho’s sheer joy left him with nothing to argue back.
So Tae-rim tied on an apron and got to work. This time, he didn’t use instant rice—he made fresh rice in a rice cooker. It was actually the first time he’d eaten freshly cooked rice since arriving in this world. He’d really become too used to convenience.
Seon Juho sat quietly in a chair at the kitchen table, watching him cook. Every time Tae-rim asked him to taste-test a dish, Juho’s imaginary ears and tail would twitch.
Moments like these, he was exactly like a sticky rice ball of a puppy. And yet, he could flip in an instant… Tae-rim felt a little embarrassed just thinking about it.
He packed the lunchbox carefully—rice first, then side dishes neatly layered—and left it out to cool on the table. The moment he turned his back, Juho was already snapping pictures like crazy.
Tae-rim plated the leftover side dishes, grabbed a few heat-and-eat items from the fridge, and set up breakfast. There was no way what he made for the lunchbox would be enough to fill Juho up.
Even though he’d be eating the same dishes again at lunch, Juho devoured every last bite of what Tae-rim had made.
“Hyung, it’s so good!”
With a beaming smile, Juho looked at him like the food had made his whole world brighter.
And seeing that, Tae-rim was reminded of the day Juho first came to live with him—skinny and underfed, to the point Tae-rim didn’t even know what to feed him.
Now, he’d filled out nicely, soft and healthy and glowing. Just yesterday, it seemed, he’d been grinning while snacking on puffed rice crackers.
I raised him well, Tae-rim thought, beaming with pride for no reason at all.
Hahaha this is what a proud father look like