Ji Se-min muttered, lips twisted in distaste. Sure, it wasn’t like he actually trusted that YouTube channel—but still, they wouldn’t go so far as to inflate his Guide rank just for a hit of nationalistic hype, right?
“…Me?”
His voice came out slightly higher than usual. He had been hoping—just a little—that being the pair partner of an S-rank Esper might mean he’d rank high too. But seriously? He was actually an S-rank Guide?
“Holy—”
A sharp breath slipped out as he slapped a hand over his mouth. A jolt like static electricity zipped through his whole body, even making the fine hairs on his arms stand on end.
A government worker with ironclad job security pulling in hundreds of billions a year… His heart started pounding like mad. Swallowing hard, one urgent thought pushed its way to the front of his mind: Check your bank account.
With speed he didn’t know he had, Se-min shut down the video app and launched his banking app. His heartbeat thundered in his ears.
He held his breath as he unlocked the screen with face recognition, then waited a second. The next moment, the full balance from his primary account filled the screen.
“……!”
His eyes widened, locked onto the rows of black numbers.
Is this real? Seriously? This much?
Ten, hundred, thousand, ten-thousand…
Staring at the screen without so much as a blink, Se-min felt a stream of curse words he rarely used flood his mind.
This is insane. Completely insane—
Ding!
A cheerful alert rang by his ear, but it didn’t register. Se-min was too absorbed in the fact that, somehow, he’d become a multi-billionaire overnight.
“Wait—what? Seriously? How much is this… Holy crap… Am I dreaming?”
S-rank Guides make this kind of money?
Still half in disbelief, Se-min pinched his cheek. Hard. It hurt enough to make his eyes water.
Overwhelmed, he lifted his head and took a deep breath—
+7
Current Favorability: 7%
“…Huh?”
A faint, semi-transparent blue screen floated midair. Se-min blinked at it in a daze. The surreal glow radiating from it gave off such a sci-fi feel that he muttered again, baffled.
“Eh?”
So it really was a dream?
No… What if there was something wrong with his brain?
He quickly shook his head, hard enough to hurt. But when he looked again, the glowing window was still there.
The thrill from seeing his bank account faded instantly, replaced by blank staring. Apparently, when a person saw something too unrealistic, their brain just kind of… shut down.
What the hell is this…
Se-min stood frozen, eyes still locked on the floating window—until Sung Cha-hyeon reentered the hospital room, snapping him out of his daze. Startled, Se-min shot to his feet.
“…Ah! Y-you’re back…?”
He quickly bowed, awkwardly clasping his hands in front of him as he greeted the man whose eyes—still faintly red—were fixed directly on him.
The uneasy tension that had lifted briefly when Cha-hyeon left now crept back in. The floating sci-fi screen, the ridiculous bank balance—it all became secondary.
Swallowing thickly, Se-min sat there, still not understanding what his past self had ever seen in this man, but beginning to grasp why the current Cha-hyeon felt the way he did.
And with that growing guilt, the silence only felt more unbearable. Fiddling nervously with his fingers, unsure what to say, Se-min eventually noticed where Cha-hyeon’s gaze had shifted—to the phone on the couch.
His own phone.
Following Cha-hyeon’s line of sight, Se-min realized the banking app was still open, his obscene account balance still fully visible on the screen.
“Um… ahem…”
With a stiff motion, Se-min picked it up. He doubted Cha-hyeon could see the screen from that far, but just knowing it was visible made him feel like a total greedy jerk.
Cha-hyeon continued to stare silently at the phone screen, as if he could see it. Then he let out a faint sigh—just barely audible.
Se-min flinched.
But apparently, it was just his imagination. Cha-hyeon, still looking exhausted, strode over and sat down across from him on the other couch—back in the exact same spot he’d been before.
“…….”
“…….”
With the distance between them gone, the awkwardness thickened. Moving stiffly, Se-min also sat back down. He closed the banking app, turned off the phone screen, and placed it face down on the table.
Then, as if he’d never even seen a phone before, he laced his fingers together and sat up straight, waiting for the man he was supposedly engaged to speak.
Cha-hyeon had calmed down since going outside, but his eyes—cool, sharp, almost predatory—remained fixed on Se-min like he was weighing options.
God, don’t look at me like that… Is he mad? Just because the guy he was dating lost his memory and got a little awkward?
Okay, emotionally, Se-min could understand it—but honestly? It was a little scary.
-1
Current Favorability: 6%
Just then, the blue window in the corner of his vision flickered and updated. Se-min glanced to the left. His mouth silently parted—just as Cha-hyeon issued a firm command:
“Check your status window.”
“…Huh?”
Startled, Se-min looked back at him. Cha-hyeon spoke again—his tone more resolute now, as if fully resigned or fully committed.
“Your status window. Open it.”
Status window…
The moment he repeated the phrase in his head, Se-min finally realized what the floating screen in front of him really was.
Right—Awakened have personal status windows that only they can see, don’t they?
So it really wasn’t visible to anyone else.
Still a little in awe, he responded, “Uh… it’s already open?”
What more am I supposed to check?
Muttering to himself, Se-min glanced at the screen—and right then, new information appeared.
Ji Se-min (S)
Classification: Guide
Trait: Embrace
.
.
.
Pair Partner – Sung Cha-hyeon (S) ○
“Oh…”
His lips parted into a soft ‘O’. The realization finally hit him. He really was an Awakened. An S-rank Guide. Rank, trait, pair partner… It all felt real now.
While Se-min marveled quietly at this discovery, Cha-hyeon—unable to see anything—grew impatient and asked:
“Any items listed? What does it say?”
“…Huh? Items? What items?”
Blinking, Se-min looked genuinely baffled. His tone practically said, What kind of nonsense are you talking about?
Now it was Cha-hyeon’s turn to look just as confused. One brow twitched up, clearly annoyed that Se-min didn’t get it—and in that moment, half of Se-min’s lingering guilt just evaporated.
“…You don’t have anything?”
Cha-hyeon asked again, voice lightly trembling. But Se-min, now half done feeling sorry, felt more exasperated than anything.
How would I know? I literally just found out I’m a damn Awakened. An S-rank Guide, at that. You think I’ve read the manual or something?
-4
Current Favorability: 2%
But maybe just thinking about the word “item” was enough to trigger something—because now, overlapping the previous window, another screen appeared.
A new inventory, packed with tiny black squares like something out of a video game. All but the first square were empty.
Is that what he meant?
The moment Se-min wondered, the first item expanded as if responding to his thoughts.
“Whoa…”
He couldn’t help the gasp. This is wild. So Awakened really lived in some kind of game-like world? Se-min’s eyes sparkled with wonder, while Cha-hyeon, now visibly anxious, pressed him again:
“You have something? Take it out. Now.”
“Ah… okay…”
Still unsure, Se-min simply thought about wanting to pull the item out. And just like that, something that clearly didn’t belong in this world materialized on the table.
Ding!
Box Containing the Beauty of the Queen of the Underworld
Rank: C?
Grants a deep, death-like slumber. The beauty inside was already used once by another and has now been fully consumed by the next user.
To unlock more information: ☆？Å╁¿▒○(Έρωτας και ψυχή) is req…
While Cha-hyeon quickly grabbed the box and studied the description, Se-min’s gaze lingered on the object itself. It didn’t even look real.
Ornate. Extravagant. Possibly carved from wood, or metal—gold or platinum, maybe—with embedded jewels. Its form shifted slightly from moment to moment, a surreal shimmer that made it undeniably feel like a true “item.”
“…What the hell is this…”
But Cha-hyeon’s reaction was different. He didn’t look fascinated—he looked like someone who’d just found another problem to deal with. He turned abruptly.
“Nothing else? That’s it?”
“Uhm… There’s some info. Stuff like rank and trait…”
Se-min gave a vague response, still glancing at the overlapping screens. Cha-hyeon pressed again.
“What else?”
With a small grimace, Se-min looked at another part of the interface.
-2
Current Favorability: 0%
“Minus two. Current favorability’s at zero percent.”
Cha-hyeon flinched like he’d been physically struck. Staring at Se-min like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, he didn’t even speak.
And right on cue, the floating window updated again.
-1
Current Favorability: -1%
“…Oh. It dropped again.”
