Lee Tae-rim couldn’t move from bed all weekend. Thanks to how ruthlessly Seon Juho had pounded him, a wave of intense muscle pain left him groaning in agony. When Tae-rim finally complained that his entire body ached, Seon Juho zipped off to the pharmacy in the shopping district within the Center and came back with painkillers.
Tae-rim spent the entire weekend lying in bed, taking muscle relief meds. After Tae-rim warned that if Seon Juho touched him even once, it’d be separate beds for a week, Seon Juho had no choice but to content himself with burying his nose in Tae-rim’s nape and inhaling his scent.
All Seon Juho could do was watch as Tae-rim dabbed leftover steroid cream onto his nipples from the last time he’d used it. Tae-rim’s nipples were so raw, the skin had peeled and turned bright red. When Seon Juho tried to sneak a glance, Tae-rim glared at him with eyes sharp enough to kill, forcing Seon Juho to tread lightly.
His cock wasn’t faring any better. The skin was raw and red there too—thanks to Seon Juho’s overly enthusiastic sucking. Tae-rim didn’t even let him see it. He went to the bathroom to apply ointment in private, leaving Seon Juho quietly sulking in disappointment.
Still, wrong was wrong. All weekend long, Seon Juho stayed glued to Tae-rim’s side, devotedly looking after him and even refrained from making any moves at night. Watching Tae-rim hobble to the bathroom with legs awkwardly spread and waddling like a duck really drove the guilt home.
Fortunately, the medicine seemed to be working. By Monday, Tae-rim could walk normally again. Whether he was faking it or had actually recovered was unclear—but either way, he made it to work on his own two feet.
He hadn’t been able to touch Tae-rim all weekend, true—but come early Saturday morning, they had done almost everything. And that alone had been more than satisfying.
“How about you actually train for once?”
When Seon Juho continued lounging lazily in his seat, Jung Jae-heon eventually walked over, arms crossed, and said that with a pointed tone. Seon Juho didn’t bother moving—just rolled his eyes to glance up at him.
“I don’t know why, but your face is really pissing me off. Makes me want to interrupt whatever you’re doing.”
“You can read my expression? On this blank face? Damn, are you besties with the baby kitten or something?”
Seon Juho scowled. Jung Jae-heon frowned too, but after a moment’s thought, he nodded slowly.
“Out of everyone here? I think I’m the closest.”
Seon Juho looked dumbfounded and stood up from his seat.
“Where are you going?”
Right now, Tae-rim was probably chatting and hanging out with the other three. Normally, this would be his scheduled training time, but in his current condition, training was out of the question. In any case, Seon Juho figured it was better to quietly keep an eye on things from a distance than to stick around with this guy. That would be far more productive.
***
“Guide Lee Hae-il is in the middle of training right now, isn’t he?”
Lee Tae-rim had been stuck Guiding Kwon Hae-beom since early that morning—Hae-beom had apparently been working non-stop all weekend. Once he finally finished Guiding him and sent him off, Yoon Ye-rin and Lee Jae-hwa walked in. Jae-hwa spoke with a tone laced with concern.
“What do you think? Do you really see Esper Kwon Hae-beom willingly receiving Guiding from Guide Lee Hae-il?”
Tae-rim shook his head without hesitation. Now that Kwon Hae-beom had caught the culprit, he was back to that blank, lifeless stare. Was Choi Jiwoon doing that badly? During the entire Guiding session, he’d sat there staring off into space—it was genuinely pitiful to watch.
“Honestly, they’re a total mismatch. Their personalities just don’t align. And their first encounter was a disaster. Just brushing against each other in a crowded space had him collapsing on the spot. That must’ve crushed his pride.”
Tae-rim agreed. Sure, he might’ve been badly in need of Guiding, but collapsing like that in front of a crowd? No way someone like Kwon Hae-beom would ever let that go.
“Originally, he is supposed to receive Guiding from Lee Hae-il throughout the training period.”
“I thought so.”
Central had clearly instructed that Kwon Hae-beom practice with Lee Hae-il too, but he was blatantly ignoring it. Word was, the higher-ups were hounding him, but it wasn’t like Kwon Hae-beom was the type to give a damn.
Kwon Hae-beom had always been indifferent to everything except Choi Jiwoon. So the higher-ups’ nagging probably registered as little more than barking dogs to him.
And regardless of orders, which Guide an Esper chose to work with was entirely up to them. No one could force it. Just like how Kwon Hae-beom had refused to receive Guiding from Tae-rim all because of Jiwoon.
“According to Hyo-il, Guide Lee Hae-il is a total model student. Picks things up insanely fast. And he’s athletic too, so his training scores are excellent.”
“Even looks like the kind of guy who always ranks first in his class.”
“Pfft! Now that you mention it, yeah—he totally gives off that class president energy.”
Tae-rim had seen Lee Hae-il from a distance once. And he really was just as Kim Hyo-il described—cold, a little high-strung, with a face that made you think he’d be hard to get along with. And today, another descriptor had been added: looks like the kid who never lets anyone beat him to first place.
In so many ways, he was the polar opposite of Choi Jiwoon.
“Anyway, how was your birthday? The ring—let me see the ring!”
Tae-rim flinched at the mention of his birthday, but the two were already fixated on the ring and didn’t notice. Honestly, Tae-rim had spent the whole weekend mentally bracing himself for this moment. He’d worked so hard to make sure he wouldn’t get swept up in their teasing. He held out his left hand to show them the ring.
“Whoa… that’s a crazy color.”
“I’ve seen my uncle at work a few times, but I’ve never seen anything like this. Must’ve used some insanely rare monster byproduct, huh?”
Their initial awe quickly circled back to one ultimate truth: money trumps all. And they weren’t wrong. Without money, you couldn’t afford a monster byproduct ring.
Tae-rim had actually prepared himself for more intrusive questions too—like, Did you two burn up the sheets on your birthday night? But Yoon Ye-rin never said a word about it. While he appreciated the discretion, it also made him feel like she definitely knew everything already. In a way, he kind of wished she had just blurted it out and teased him—it might’ve been less nerve-wracking.
His muscle pain hadn’t completely faded yet. It wasn’t bad enough to show, but the aftereffects were still lingering.
He had to give serious thanks to that steroid cream. He knew he shouldn’t overuse it, but he really hadn’t had a choice. Of all places, it had to be the most sensitive areas where the skin peeled off completely. He had to slap a bandage over his nipples, and as for his cock… well, that was just a disaster. An utterly embarrassing disaster.
It’s not like Seon Juho had a cat tongue with barbs or something—but how the hell had he sucked with such force that the skin turned glass-smooth and raw? And yet, even after all that, Juho still wasn’t satisfied. The way his eyes clung to Tae-rim, it was clear he was still burning with obsession.
Even Tae-rim had been shocked when he saw his own body. It was a miracle there were no visible marks above the shirtline, because his whole body was covered in traces Seon Juho had left behind. Especially around his chest and between his legs—that was an absolute mess.
Thankfully, Seon Juho still didn’t know how to imbue his bites with pheromones. Tae-rim had sworn never to even mention that such a technique existed. If Juho figured it out on instinct, fine—but he wasn’t about to be the one to plant the idea. Not ever.
Just Seon Juho’s aroused pheromones were more than enough. Maybe the alcohol had played the biggest role, but getting drunk off an Alpha’s pheromones… that was something else. It was terrifying.
Normally, Tae-rim would’ve put a stop to things halfway through. But intoxicated by pheromones, he hadn’t been able to push Juho away. Despite how rough and overwhelming it’d been, he couldn’t bring himself to refuse. As if he’d forgotten how to say no, Tae-rim had accepted everything Seon Juho did to him.
Drink in moderation. He never imagined the day would come when that phrase hit this hard. If only he’d had a little less—he wouldn’t have gotten bold enough to jump Seon Juho like that. It was all on him. Tae-rim quietly made a new vow to himself: No matter how expensive or delicious it was—moderation, always.
Quitting alcohol… well, let’s taste every type at least once and then decide. Just a taste. Just one.
“Oh right. I heard something. That Esper Jung Jae-heon’s been checking Matching Rates with Guides from other districts.”
Tae-rim hadn’t said a word, but it had gotten out anyway. Jung Jae-heon wouldn’t have been the one gossiping about it himself, so Tae-rim found it baffling—how did people get wind of these things?
“The ones who were aiming for him are freaking out now. Saying maybe they should shoot their shot while they still can.”
“Wasn’t the highest rate 75%?”
“Yeah. And the fact that he’s even looking into other districts means he’s trying to find someone with a higher rate. But charging in now isn’t likely to work.”
“Right. Tae-rim, have you heard anything?”
He had—but it was deeply personal, so he couldn’t share it. Instead, Tae-rim asked a different question.
“I’m honestly more curious where you hear all these things. Do they post it on the Guide forums? Or is there, like, a secret chatroom?”
He’d tried checking the Guide forums once or twice, but there were way too many posts. He’d given up quickly. Plus, he wasn’t the type to snoop on other people’s business, so it hadn’t held much appeal.
“Just hear stuff here and there from friends.”
“Come to think of it, S-rank Guides probably aren’t that plugged into rumors. You all have your own private Guiding rooms too, so that makes sense.”
There wasn’t any real ostracizing among the ranks, but having separate facilities inevitably created distance. If it weren’t for Kim Hyo-il, Tae-rim probably would’ve stayed isolated even now. Without Hyo-il, he might’ve kept floundering halfway across the globe all on his own.
S-ranks didn’t really have many chances to connect with Guides of other ranks. Everything was segregated, facility-wise, so it was easy to end up alone. Above all, having private Guiding rooms played the biggest role in that separation.
