“Haa…”
Han Jigang pushed himself up from the sweat-soaked body beneath him. Nabin wasn’t particularly short, but he was so slender that when Jigang pressed down on him, his fragile frame all but disappeared under the weight.
Red handprints stood out starkly against pale skin, and the mess between his legs made Jigang hesitate for a moment before he turned and walked out.
He’d always thought physical Guiding was revolting. Yet this time, it hadn’t been nearly as bad as he’d expected, and that unsettled him. If he lingered any longer, he might say something he’d regret—an apology, or worse, an admission that he’d enjoyed it. Better to leave.
As he stepped into the hallway, he checked his bracelet. His Outbreak Risk Index had dropped to 57. Before Guiding with Nabin, it had been 59.
Ever since he’d developed resistance to the machines, each session with them only reduced his Index by 0.5 to 1 point. He hadn’t expected much from a D-rank Guide, but one physical session had lowered it by 2. Not a bad result at all. The fact that he’d have to repeat this daily until it dropped below 30 was annoying, but manageable.
Already, he felt lighter. The higher the Outbreak Risk Index climbed, the more it affected an Esper. Some only got headaches, but for a fire-type like Jigang, the heat in his body rose until it felt like he might melt alive.
Ordinary medicine didn’t work. All he could do was endure the pain until it passed. To feel even a slight relief from the headaches and fever he’d lived with constantly felt liberating. Once his Index fell below 30, all that pain would be gone. Until then, he’d use Nabin.
The Center Director gave him to me for exactly this purpose. As long as he doesn’t break, it’s fine.
Thinking of Nabin not as a person but as a Guiding machine made things easier. Machines left him empty and unclean, never refreshed. But with someone this compatible, the experience was almost too good—good enough to make him forget the man’s rank. The Guide had simply done his job. That wasn’t a bad thing for either of them.
With the faintest trace of guilt cast off, Han Jigang headed toward the kitchen.
It was still early morning; aside from him and Nabin, everyone else was asleep. Meals weren’t assigned in this house—whoever woke first was expected to prepare breakfast.
Part of the reason he opened the refrigerator was the thought that maybe he owed Nabin at least a meal, after the man had lain there in silence at the end, unable even to whimper.
He’d thought himself experienced, yet Nabin’s body had struggled to take him, awkward and untrained. Even knowing that, Jigang had lost control and pressed harder. The memory made his cheeks burn. He tore his eyes away from the bedroom door and fixed them firmly on the ingredients, forcing himself to cook quickly.
***
Nabin had endured in a daze until the very end. His vision kept cutting to black and then returning, his trembling legs struggling again and again to hold him up.
It felt like centuries had passed. Only when his eyelids finally gave out did the crushing weight pinning him vanish. The moment Han Jigang left, his body collapsed onto the bed like a discarded doll.
The blanket he’d bitten down on to muffle his cries was already stained red. His gums ached from clenching his teeth so hard.
Not only his face bore the damage. Blood spotted the sheets beneath his battered lower body.
Was it because it had been so long? Or because Jigang had been so large? Whatever the reason, this Guiding had been the hardest of his life—even compared to all the years he’d spent working at the parlor.
Like Jigang had said, his body was used to it. With his rank, light contact was never enough, so the acts had to be repeated over and over.
But today, Guiding him had shredded Nabin’s mind and body to pieces. If he’d been a rag doll, the stuffing would have been spilling out, soaked in blood.
With effort, he raised his gaze to the window. The sun had already risen, scattering warm light across the room. The rays fractured against the glass and pierced his eyes.
Maybe if he closed them, this nightmare would feel like a dream. That was why he’d kept them shut throughout the Guiding.
Now, with sunlight on his face, he felt like someone opening their eyes for the first time in ages. Tears welled up without reason. The brightness washed away, if only faintly, the darkness choking him.
Nabin had guided countless Espers, but never an S-rank. At the illegal parlors, the strongest had only ever been B-rank. Not that they’d told him so—his body had learned it. Guiding B-ranks drained him to the bone, left him trembling and weak. But compared to this, that was nothing. Guiding an S-rank tore even the faint traces of mana from his very capillaries.
The numbness of mana leaving his body through their contact was as agonizing as the act itself. It felt like his very existence was being pulled apart into fragments.
He endured both the physical torment and the mental collapse. The sun said it had only been a short while, yet it was harder than facing ten clients in a day at the parlor.
Through his blurred vision, he caught sight of a faint mark on the window: the heart he’d drawn yesterday in the condensation with his breath.
A shape meant for family, lovers, friends—for anyone you wanted to show affection to.
The sight made him crave warmth, even just for a moment. His body shuddered with spasms as he dragged himself toward his bag.
His limbs gave out again and again, new bruises blooming, but he didn’t care.
Inside the neatly packed bag, wrapped carefully in a handkerchief, lay what he sought.
Even when he found it, he hesitated. He smoothed his hand over the fabric again and again before finally unwrapping it.
Inside was the artifact given to him not long after his twentieth birthday, from an Esper with snow-white hair.
That day remained one of his few warm memories since his father’s death, even though it had nearly been the day he’d died too—attacked by the same monster that had killed his father. But that man had turned even that memory into something he could smile at.
For him, it might have been nothing. But for Nabin, it was precious, something he clung to in his darkest times.
Since then, he’d kept it safe in a box he’d bought with his own money. He’d barely worn it, only once or twice. When he went to visit his mother, he’d sometimes take it out, never daring to touch it, only staring at it in silence.
Click.
Opening the worn box, he saw the same violet pendant gleaming as brightly as the day he’d received it.
Today, he let himself be greedy. He brushed his finger over the butterfly’s wings. The cold touch spread warmth through him, seeping into his veins.
Dew gathered on the wings. Startled, Nabin pulled the box away. He almost wiped it with his clothes before realizing he was naked.
That’s when he saw his body.
After the Center had rescued him, Kim Su-hyun had worked tirelessly to heal him. Yet within hours, he was back to what he had been before.
It felt like the world was telling him, this is what you really are.
Filthy. Disgusting. He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to carve wounds into the red and purple marks marring his pale skin.
“Huuh… uk…”
He bit down hard, but sobs still broke free.
He’d heard S-rank Espers had physical abilities far beyond normal people. If he cried too loudly, maybe Jigang would hear.
He just wanted to disappear, to hide. But what if his voice gave him away? What if Jigang came back?
Panicked, he covered his mouth and nose with both hands, holding back even his own breath. He gasped, suffocating, but the fear of making a sound was stronger than the need for air.
At some point, he’d pushed the box away, staring hollowly at the artifact lying inside.
If only the Esper I had to guide had been him…
That man had been with the K Ability User Center too. Deep down, Nabin had hoped he might cross paths with him again.
S-rank Special Esper—Telekinesis. Lee Hayan.
Mr. Kim had told him the name, calling the man his savior. A figure whose white hair suited his name perfectly, whose kindness had been as pure as untouched snow.
