“The test results are in…”
The staff member hadn’t done anything wrong, yet he hesitated, glancing nervously at Nabin as if afraid to finish the sentence. Perhaps he sensed it too—the despair weighing on Nabin’s heart.
It felt as if he had reached for what he thought was a sturdy lifeline, only to discover it was rotten, sending him plummeting into the open jaws of a tiger.
The grade on the sheet was brutally simple. The shape of the letter, drawn from a straight line and a half-circle, was something Nabin had never imagined. With both of his parents being B-rank Ability Users, he had vaguely hoped—at the very least—for a C-rank. That fragile hope shattered instantly.
“There are others waiting, so I’ll have to ask you to give up your seat…”
“I—I’m sorry…”
Frozen stiff, unable to even blink, Nabin heard the staff member gently urging him to move along. At that moment, it felt as if ice water had been poured over his mind.
Mumbling an apology, he turned toward the door. His legs felt unbearably heavy, as though invisible hands were pulling him back. The thought gnawed at him—maybe it would’ve been better if he had simply been judged as an ordinary person.
From what Nabin knew, D-rank Guides were…
“Why did you take so long?”
The moment the door opened, Kim Minsu, who had been waiting, rushed over. The test was quick and simple, so when Nabin failed to come out, Minsu had started wondering if he should force the door open.
Pale to begin with, Nabin’s complexion was now an alarming shade of blue. The paper in his hand had to be the results. Minsu reached for it.
But before he could touch it, Nabin crumpled the sheet in his fist and stumbled back. The crinkling of paper was mirrored by the sharp furrow that formed between Minsu’s brows.
“…You’ve lost your damn mind.”
His voice carried irritation. All day, Nabin had been avoiding him, and it was grating on his nerves. The red mark still faintly visible on Nabin’s chin apparently hadn’t been enough of a warning.
“Ah…”
“Come with me.”
The hand that had nearly gone for Nabin’s fragile neck instead seized his wrist. Minsu pulled him out of the Center—causing a scene inside would only draw unnecessary attention.
Nabin tried to dig in his heels, but he couldn’t fight Minsu’s strength. He was dragged through the streets until they reached a deserted alley.
“Hhkk…”
The moment they entered, Minsu shoved him against the wall. His shoulder blades struck the hard cement through the thin jumper with a sickening thud. As Nabin groaned in pain, Minsu’s hand wrapped around his throat, lifting him off the ground.
“Khh… p-please… spare me…”
His feet dangled helplessly, toes scraping for purchase. Lifting Nabin with one hand was nothing for Minsu. He only loosened his grip when Nabin’s face turned red, then drained to pale white again.
“Khuk… hhhu…”
Nabin collapsed to the filthy ground. Cigarette butts and spit littered the pavement, but his trembling hands pressed against it anyway as he struggled for breath.
“Our little Nabin is being difficult today…”
Minsu showed no concern for his suffering. He was only lashing back at the inconvenience of being annoyed.
“Give it here. The results.”
His sharp gaze fixed on the crumpled sheet clenched in Nabin’s hand. Even as he gasped for air, Nabin refused to let go. So Minsu pried his fingers open by force.
The brutal pressure popped a joint—bone shifting out of place. Nabin screamed in pain, but Minsu ignored him, calmly examining the grade printed on the sheet.
“A D-rank Guide, huh… Just what I wanted.”
The words hit Nabin like a thunderclap. Just as he had come to know Minsu’s ways, he had also picked up information about his dealings.
Mangchi Ajusshi had once warned him in hushed tones: when he turned twenty, anything would be better than awakening as a D-rank Guide. He had said, almost in panic, that it would be better to die than end up as one. Awakening and its rank were beyond anyone’s control, yet the older man had spoken as if it were a curse.
Minsu’s business wasn’t just loan sharking. Years ago, he had inherited an illegal Guiding den from the Black Dragon Gang’s boss. The Guides there were worked so brutally that the very air was soaked with the smell of blood.
Nabin had never seen it firsthand, but when he stopped by Black Finance’s office to deliver payments, he often heard Mangchi’s hushed warnings or Minsu’s men muttering about it.
Even those hardened men, who had neither pity nor tears, spoke of how wretchedly the Guides there lived. Back then, Nabin had thought those stories had nothing to do with him.
He had believed he’d never awaken as a D-rank Guide. That he’d never be forced into such a place. But now…
While Nabin wept, his face soaked in tears, Minsu looked positively elated. The deep crease in his brow had smoothed into a bright, almost boyish grin—like a child trembling with excitement, holding a beautifully wrapped gift he could hardly wait to open.
“Nabin, let’s go home. Rest up tonight—you’re going to be busy starting tomorrow.”
He reached out his hand, smiling warmly, as if making a kind invitation. His smile was almost pure, stretched across his face as he looked down at the boy clutching his broken fingers and crying.
“P-please… spare me…”
Clinging to his last hope, Nabin forced his stiff body to move. Pressing his hands together, he begged. Every time his broken finger brushed his palm, pain stabbed through him, but he had to plead—he had to beg to keep working as a Miner instead.
“Nabin, I really do care for you. I plan to keep you by my side for a long time. So why do you keep asking me to spare you?”
Minsu, looking genuinely puzzled, stroked his hair tenderly. To him, Nabin was the most precious doll in his life. He had met countless people, but no one else had ever held his attention for so long.
“Let’s treat that and go home. Your fingers must hurt.”
He pulled a low-grade healing potion from his pocket and smeared it across the swollen joints. Then he tugged Nabin up by the arm.
But Nabin’s legs buckled beneath him, unable to hold his weight. Clicking his tongue, Minsu lifted him into his arms and started walking slowly toward his house. Nabin squirmed in discomfort, but each time he did, Minsu only squeezed him tighter, until it hurt.
“This gate… tomorrow we’ll say goodbye to it.”
The rusted door squealed as it gave way, reeking with the stench of old metal. Minsu kicked it open and carried Nabin inside, laying him down on the worn floor.
The tears still wouldn’t stop. Nabin’s eyes darted unfocused, trembling as if desperate to escape reality.
“Just so you know—if you try to run, I’ll make you watch your mom die. Understood?”
Checking his watch, Minsu left those words behind and stepped out of the crumbling house. In the silence, broken only by creaking, Nabin didn’t even dare to breathe too loudly.
It had been a long time since he’d come home this early. The houses here were pressed together, and the savory smell of dinner drifted through the thin walls.
Next door lived an old grandmother and her young grandson. The boy’s cheerful chatter about school filtered faintly through to Nabin’s ears.
“Mom…”
If only he could tell his mother about what had happened today… If only he could share this crushing misfortune, maybe the weight of reality would feel a little lighter.
But his mother was hospitalized, her drug addiction having worsened. Minsu had arranged it. He valued the hostage in his hands—Nabin’s mother—enough to admit her to a clinic that specialized in treating Espers addicted to illegal substances. He had spared no effort to keep her alive. The hospital bills, of course, were left to Nabin.
For a moment, he thought it might be better to just go to her and end their lives together. Curling into himself, Nabin wept.
The dry winter wind brushed his frozen body, but he no longer felt it. The full moon sank, replaced by the pale glow of dawn, yet his hunched figure never once straightened.
