The training with Kim Sol was good. Good enough to lift the gloom that had settled over Lim Haeyul ever since he heard the news that he had become a Guide.
Kim Sol was two years older than him and had been a Guide for exactly two years. At Haeyul’s age, Kim Sol had also abruptly awakened as a Guide.
Maybe that’s why they shared so much in common. Even though Kim Sol was S-Rank and Haeyul was D-Rank, and even though Kim Sol had a matching rate with Cha Jae-woo in the ten-percent range—making their situations completely different—there was still an undeniable sense of camaraderie between them.
Besides, Kim Sol had a knack for making people feel at ease. Even though they hadn’t known each other long, Haeyul had decided to call him hyung because being around him just felt that comfortable.
The very first thing Kim Sol taught him was how to gauge the amount of mana he possessed.
He explained that a Guide needed to be fully aware of their mana reserves in order to provide the maximum amount of guiding without overexerting themselves. Adjusting the flow of guiding would come afterward, he said.
“Ah, fuck….”
The principle was simple. In other words, it sounded easy when explained.
The problem was in execution. Kim Sol instructed him to calm his mind and focus on the flow of mana within his body. If he did, he said, he would definitely feel something eventually.
But no matter how much he concentrated, Haeyul couldn’t feel a thing. Closing his eyes and repeating deep breaths only made him drowsy. Before he knew it, he even nodded off in the middle of the session. He could still clearly picture the bewildered look on Kim Sol’s face.
“Maybe… maybe I’m not even a real Guide?”
In the end, he made no progress throughout the entire training session.
When he returned to Cha Jae-woo’s house, he tried to review and focus again, but it was still the same—he couldn’t sense anything at all. So, the idea that he might not actually be a Guide seemed more plausible by the second.
“That can’t be right….”
Still, Haeyul quickly lost steam. If he hadn’t been a Guide, he wouldn’t have collapsed the moment he made contact with Cha Jae-woo, nor would Jae-woo have been able to get any sleep at all. Jae-woo had slept precisely because the guiding had worked. So the thought that he might not be a Guide was nothing more than a foolish hope.
Shoving aside the ridiculous notion, he tried again to focus. But once his mind had scattered, concentration was nearly impossible.
‘My mana… really must be pitifully low.’
He recalled the words Kim Sol had said after holding his hand for a moment of silent evaluation.
“Of course it’s low. You’re D-Rank.”
Still, he couldn’t help but wonder—just how low was it? Other people could tell him, but it wasn’t something he could feel for himself, and the helplessness was suffocating.
Couldn’t mana be shared somehow? If an S-Rank just pumped a little mana into him, he could guide Cha Jae-woo more effectively. It seemed like a win-win, didn’t it? Good for him, good for Jae-woo. Everybody wins.
“Aaagh! Useless thoughts again!”
Startled by the idiotic thoughts that had snuck up on him, Haeyul slapped his own cheeks and shook his head violently.
This was no time for that kind of nonsense. He had to guide Cha Jae-woo today. They had agreed on a routine—a set amount of guiding each day.
Yet here he was, not even knowing how much mana he had, let alone how to control the guiding properly.
‘I’m just going to pass out again, aren’t I?’
The future loomed before him, painfully obvious.
He squeezed his eyes shut and struggled desperately to concentrate, trying to avoid the inevitable. But it was no use. Every time he emptied his mind, another new, stupid thought would immediately fill it.
“Mana is increasing. Mana is growing. I am becoming S-Rank. Mana is increasing….”
At some point, he even started muttering weird incantations to himself.
They said if you wished hard enough, it would come true, right? Even if he figured out how much mana he had, it wouldn’t change the fact that it was pitifully small. He was D-Rank, after all. So, it was far more beneficial for him to hope for his mana reserves to grow, even just a little.
However, it didn’t take long for his thinking to change again.
“I am not a Guide… I am becoming an ordinary civilian. I am returning to normal….”
Because there was something even more desirable than having more mana.
It wasn’t that he wanted to grow as a Guide. If he could, he would rather go back to being an ordinary person.
So if he was going to wish for something, this was the wish that truly made sense.
Clinging to a sliver of hope, Lim Haeyul continued muttering the same phrase over and over.
“I’ll become an ordinary person. I won’t be a Guide anymore….”
Repeating such an earnest wish somehow made it easier to concentrate.
“What a pathetic little show you’re putting on.”
Of course, his desperate wish didn’t come true. Startled, Haeyul snapped his head toward the voice that had shattered his meditation.
It was Cha Jae-woo.
A sneer stretched across Jae-woo’s face as he looked at Haeyul. A hot wave of humiliation surged through him. He didn’t know how long Jae-woo had been standing there, but judging by the look on his face, he had definitely heard every word Haeyul had been whispering just moments ago.
“Ah, uh, I… Hello?”
“Do you look like you’re doing well?”
“…Y-Yes?”
It was the first time he’d ever gotten such a response to a simple greeting, and it left him speechless. Jae-woo strode into the room without hesitation, and the atmosphere around them started to shift.
It was rare, but they said that if a matching rate was high enough, a Guide could sense an Esper’s unstable wavelengths even without direct contact. Guiding, however, only happened through physical touch, so technically, there was no need to worry. Even so, Haeyul swallowed dryly under the mounting tension.
“You’re out here wishing to the air that your Guide would just become an ordinary person. You really think that’s something I’d be okay with?”
Haeyul squeezed his eyes shut tight. Then, he bowed his head deeply toward Cha Jae-woo.
“I’m sorry….”
From Jae-woo’s perspective, it was understandable that he would be offended. Haeyul had no defense.
“Hah…”
A scoffing laugh sounded from above, but Haeyul didn’t dare lift his head. It wasn’t as if wishing could actually turn him back into an ordinary civilian—and it wasn’t like that would ever happen anyway. Still, he truly felt sorry.
“So. Did you learn how to control your guiding properly?”
Jae-woo didn’t press the issue any further and simply asked the question. Haeyul didn’t know whether he should nod or shake his head.
In theory, he had learned. But theory and practice were two very different things. He still didn’t even know how much mana he had.
“Um… I heard the explanation well enough.”
He decided to be honest—lying wouldn’t help anything. But the second he saw Jae-woo’s face twist in displeasure, he immediately regretted his honesty. Unfortunately, it was already too late.
“I mean, just hearing about it doesn’t mean you can do it right away, you know? You get that, right?”
“I don’t.”
“Ah…”
“If you just do it, it happens. What’s the big deal?”
The image of Kim Sol awkwardly trying to coach him popped into Haeyul’s mind. This was why they said geniuses shouldn’t teach others. How could someone who just does it without even trying possibly understand how to teach someone else?
Thanks to Cha Jae-woo, even Kim Sol had been demoted to one of those guys in Haeyul’s mind—but he didn’t have the luxury of getting hung up on that.
Feeling a bit indignant, Haeyul mustered the courage to protest.
“Not everything just works out because you try….”
His voice grew smaller and smaller, but for him, even that small protest took tremendous bravery.
Of course, Cha Jae-woo showed no sign of understanding.
“So, you’re saying you’re not going to guide me today?”
If he said no, would Jae-woo actually let him off the hook? He wasn’t confident at all, but…
Clinging to a tiny sliver of hope, he lifted his head slightly—only to immediately lower it again when he saw the look on Jae-woo’s face. It was clear that refusing would lead to something far worse.
Still, wasn’t it a bit much to drain someone else’s energy just to save yourself? The pity he had felt that morning evaporated in an instant.
“I’ll do it. I have to….”
The words came out in a heavy sigh.
He shifted, trying to rise from the bed. He didn’t know exactly how he was supposed to guide, but it just felt wrong to be doing it while sitting there.
“Just stay where you are.”
Before he could get up, Jae-woo sat down on the bed beside him, making it unnecessary to move.
Instead, Haeyul kneeled on the mattress and turned his body to face Jae-woo. The way Jae-woo looked at him—as if saying unbelievable—was obvious, but he ignored it as best he could.
“Okay, I’ll… give it a try.”
He took a deep breath and extended his index finger. Then, he slowly reached toward the back of Cha Jae-woo’s hand.
A scoffing ha came the moment he started moving, causing his hand to jerk slightly, but he forced himself to concentrate again.
It would have been nice if Jae-woo could stay quiet for just a moment—but Haeyul was too scared to actually ask.
His finger trembled as it hovered toward Jae-woo’s hand.
Haeyul was determined not to lose any more of the already pitiful amount of mana he had left. He swore that never in his life—not even during college entrance exams—had he ever focused this hard.
And so, finally, his fingertip made contact with the back of Cha Jae-woo’s hand.
“Gah!”
And in that moment, astonishingly, Lim Haeyul could feel it. The elusive presence of mana he had struggled so hard to find—he sensed it clearly now. And along with it, the vivid sensation of his mana draining away and his stamina collapsing in an instant.
His body tilted uncontrollably, and he flopped onto the bed. His vision spun violently. At least he avoided blacking out the instant he made contact like he had yesterday, but every ounce of strength drained from his body almost immediately. It was the bizarre feeling of being completely exhausted, like the moment right before falling asleep after an especially grueling day.
“Hey.”
“…….”
“Breathe.”
“Phah….”
At Cha Jae-woo’s command, a deep, shaky breath finally escaped from Haeyul’s lips. He hadn’t even realized he’d been holding his breath. As his breathing continued, the pitch-black darkness clouding his vision gradually began to clear into a hazy blur.
The first thing that came into focus was the back of Jae-woo’s hand, veins standing out sharply against the skin. His hand was clenched tightly into a fist, as if he were suppressing something.
‘Is he pissed? Because it ended so quickly?’
But even if he was, there was nothing Haeyul could do about it. This was the limit of a D-Rank. It wasn’t like he could expend enough energy to actually collapse just for the sake of guiding better.
“I’m sorry….”
Despite the flicker of injustice rising inside him at Jae-woo’s reaction, the only thing that left Haeyul’s mouth was an apology. Because if he said the wrong thing and made Jae-woo angry, it would only cause more trouble for himself.
Still, hadn’t he at least managed some guiding? Not a lot, sure, but surely not so little as to deserve getting angry over…
“…Go to sleep.”
The oppressive tension in the air remained, but Jae-woo didn’t lash out. Instead, he stood up abruptly and barked out those curt words.
The suffocating atmosphere from earlier seemed to lighten ever so slightly. Haeyul wasn’t sure if it was because his body had gone numb, or if Jae-woo’s chaotic wavelengths had actually stabilized thanks to the brief touch.
‘Probably the former.’
There was no way that a meager trickle of mana could have genuinely stabilized Cha Jae-woo. Haeyul let out a heavy sigh and squeezed his eyes shut. Still sprawled on the bed, he didn’t forget to at least glance toward Jae-woo’s retreating figure as he left.
Completely drained of energy, Haeyul collapsed onto the bed like a rag doll and watched the door close with a hollow chuckle. The sensation of his mana being utterly wiped out was so vivid that it felt almost absurd.
“…It’s really pathetic.”
What good was a high matching rate if the mana was this pitifully tiny? No matter how good the compatibility, it was like trying to patch a leaking dam with a single drop of water.
Irritation began to bubble up inside him. Would he even be able to manage such a minuscule amount of mana properly? No matter how carefully he tried, it felt inevitable that both his mana and stamina would be sucked dry every time.
His thoughts gradually grew more and more blurry.
Without even realizing it, Haeyul drifted off to sleep right there on the spot.
And the next day, he woke up with IV drips dangling from his arms once again. And in front of him was a table piled high with an extravagant feast.
Faced with the spread of dishes designed to stimulate the appetite, Haeyul let out a bitter laugh.
It felt like they were telling him, you’re going to be using up a lot more strength from now on, so you’d better bulk up while you can.
