Nabin’s trembling hands fumbled inside the box until he finally pulled out the artifact. He couldn’t see it, but the faint chill brushing against his skin was the only comfort left to him in those agonizing hours.
“Hhhuhh… nghhh…”
His sobs resembled the cries of a beast caught in a trap, dying slowly. Afraid the sound might reach the people in the mansion, Nabin bit down on his lips until beads of blood welled up.
The butterfly-shaped pendant left a soft, consoling kiss on his sweat-drenched forehead. Like a man kneeling before God in desperate prayer, Nabin clung to that faint fragment of memory until, exhausted from crying, he slipped into a fitful sleep.
***
Knock, knock, knock.
Han Jigang stood before Nabin’s door, rapping lightly—so unlike the way he used to pound on it as though he meant to break it down. His clenched fist now hovered awkwardly, fingers curled uncertainly.
After knocking, he lingered for a long time, but no sound came from within. He thought he’d heard faint sobbing at dawn, proof that Nabin had regained consciousness, but it seemed he had drifted off again.
By now the sun was high, close to noon. Each time Jigang went downstairs, he checked the kitchen, wondering if Nabin had gone for food, but there was no sign of it being touched.
He kept inventing excuses to go downstairs, though there was no real need. He couldn’t bring himself to walk straight into Nabin’s room, so he sat on the living room sofa, clawing at the cushions in frustration, or idly tapped at the paintings and statues in the hallway.
After yesterday’s brutal Guiding, Nabin had to be starving if he’d woken up. Jigang debated leaving him alone, since he had already suffered enough—but then scoffed at himself. Since when had he ever cared about others’ feelings? At last, he headed for Nabin’s door.
He knocked again. No answer. Jigang’s patience frayed, and when it finally snapped, he shoved the door open.
But the bed was empty. Only the faint impression of someone having lain there remained.
Still, Nabin was definitely inside—Jigang could feel his presence. His gaze snapped toward the wardrobe. A weak, familiar breath was coming from inside.
Even though Gong Min had given him a Healing Potion the day before, his breathing sounded far weaker than normal. Jigang strode quickly over and yanked the door open.
“…Hey.”
Nabin didn’t respond. This was the same Guide who used to flinch at his voice, darting frightened glances his way. Now he sat hunched over, head bowed, clutching something tightly in his hand, his face hidden.
“Hey, Kim Nabin.”
Even when Jigang raised his voice, Nabin didn’t move. Running a rough hand through his hair, Jigang gripped his shoulder—then froze.
“Shit, why’s your body so hot?”
This wasn’t normal human warmth. As a Fire-type Esper, Jigang always ran hotter than others, and ever since his Outbreak Risk Index had risen, his body heat had only increased. But Nabin’s fever burned hotter still.
It wasn’t warmth—it was searing heat.
He shook Nabin’s shoulders roughly. Each time, his bowed head lolled like a candle flame guttering in the wind.
Cursing, Jigang pulled him out of the wardrobe and cradled him in his arms. His head lolled back naturally. His body was ghostly pale, yet his cheeks burned with a feverish flush.
Hot breath escaped his parted lips. His eyes were raw and swollen from crying, so inflamed it hurt just to look at them. Jigang laid him on the bed. His limbs flopped weakly across the mattress.
“Ah, fuck…”
He rolled a Healing Potion in his palm but knew it wouldn’t help. Nabin’s face was drained of life. He was breathing, burning with fever—yet he felt so faint it was as if he might vanish into thin air.
After a moment’s hesitation, Jigang pulled out his phone. He needed Kim Su-hyun. They had arranged for Su-hyun to visit the mansion once a week, but that wasn’t for a few more days. Judging by Nabin’s condition, if he was left alone, he might never wake again.
Healing Potions worked well for wounds, internal and external. But with this blazing fever—like some kind of burning flu—it would be better to call in a Healing Esper like Su-hyun.
As he dialed the number, Jigang’s eyes caught on what Nabin was clutching. Only a thin black cord stuck out from between his tightly wrapped fingers. Whatever it was, he was gripping it with desperate force. Jigang’s curiosity flared, but this wasn’t the time. He pulled the blanket up over Nabin instead.
–Hello?
“It’s me. Han Jigang.”
–I know. Don’t tell me… something’s happened to Guide Kim Nabin?
Su-hyun’s voice wavered with concern, as if he already sensed the truth.
“Yeah. So hurry to the mansion.”
–…Open the gates ahead of time. If they’re locked, I’ll break them down.
“Ha…”
Jigang bristled at his arrogant tone, ready to snap back, but only the click of a disconnected call answered him. He’d disliked Su-hyun from the start. With Nabin involved, he hated him all the more.
***
The moment Nabin opened his eyes, he thought he’d fallen into a furnace. The fever raging through him was so fierce it felt like it was melting his body, even turning his vision red.
“Haa… haa…”
“Guide Kim Nabin, can you hear me?”
Even after feeding him fever reducers and pouring healing power into him, Su-hyun couldn’t bring the temperature down. A normal fever should have vanished in an instant, yet this heat blazed on, tormenting him like an unquenchable fire.
In the end, Su-hyun could only wipe him down with cold, damp towels. Thankfully, the direct cooling worked, and Nabin stirred.
But even with his eyes open, he stared blankly at the ceiling like someone who saw nothing at all.
If not for the hot breaths spilling past his lips, he could’ve been mistaken for a corpse. His eyes were empty, like dry, abandoned wells. Su-hyun’s chest clenched painfully.
“Guide Kim Nabin…”
His condition was even worse than when he had first come to the hospital. Back then, he’d at least reacted with fear to Su-hyun’s words. Now he showed nothing, like a man stripped of all emotion.
Su-hyun checked his temperature. 39.6. Still dangerously high. When he’d first measured, it had been over 40. It was an improvement, but lingering above 39 for so long was dangerous.
Without constant healing to repair the damage from the fever, Nabin would have suffered lasting aftereffects.
Grinding his teeth, Su-hyun wondered what had happened during Guiding to leave Nabin like this. The man had endured years in illegal Guiding establishments—yet only a few days in this mansion had broken him.
Han Jigang had said he’d used a top-grade Healing Potion. Even now, Su-hyun, an A-rank Healing Esper, was pouring out his power relentlessly. And still, Nabin’s condition crawled along, barely improving.
This wasn’t a physical problem. It was psychological.
If it were just the body, Nabin would already be back on his feet. His wounds had healed, but the scars on his mind hadn’t closed.
Healing powers and potions could mend flesh, but they couldn’t touch wounds of the spirit. There were Healing Espers who could treat psychological trauma—but not here.
They were so rare worldwide that even if the Center Director personally tried to bring one from abroad, there was no guarantee their country would release them.
This was something Nabin had to overcome himself.
That truth drove Su-hyun mad. The only reason he hadn’t already stormed out to tear apart the men who had done this to Nabin was because his condition was still critical.
“Nabi…”
The lips that hadn’t even blinked, dry as wilted petals, faintly moved. Searching.
“Nabi…?”
Because Su-hyun’s gaze hadn’t left him, he caught it immediately. Nabin was calling a single word, repeating it again and again through feverish breaths.
Butterfly…
Su-hyun remembered. When he had gone to rescue Nabin’s mother, he’d also brought back an artifact with a butterfly-shaped pendant. Earlier, while treating him, he had pried it from Nabin’s grip just long enough to set it on the nightstand.
