As soon as they stepped into the building, the contrast between its rough exterior and the sleek, polished marble interior became starkly apparent.
“Are you the intern Guides?”
A receptionist wearing a crisp white uniform traced with orange lines at each curve greeted the three of them warmly. When they confirmed they were there for the Guide Internship Training, she directed them to Section B-1 on Basement Level 2.
After taking the elevator down, fluorescent lights illuminated the hallway. They walked along a straight corridor and entered the B-1 section.
Though the cement walls were coarse and the space looked to be over 330 square meters, the area felt oddly cramped—likely due to the presence of strange, unidentifiable objects scattered around.
Seated on a sofa placed deep in the room, the three of them glanced around, trying to acclimate to the unfamiliar setting. The theory lectures they had attended over the past week had felt more like indoctrination programs designed to brainwash regular people into becoming Guides. That’s why they felt a mix of uneasy dread—what if the second week of practical training was more of the same?—and eager anticipation that maybe this time they’d learn something actually useful.
After all, if it was called “practical training,” it implied they’d be doing something related to the actual duties of a full-time employee.
Pretending not to care, all three fixed their gazes on the door. Right on cue, the steel door creaked open with a bizarre noise.
The first thing they saw through the crack was a head of striking blond hair. Smooth strands shimmered and flowed like silk, dancing with every step the man took. With pale skin and vivid red eyes, he looked as though he had absorbed every dazzling color in the world. His red jacket and matching pants were the color of blood-tinted roses. His white shirt, undone by three buttons, exposed bare skin beneath.
None of them said a word, but they were all undoubtedly thinking the same thing. “Beautiful” doesn’t even begin to cover it. The dangerous aura wafting from him only intensified that impression. From the moment he stepped in, the man exhaled a sigh and offered a perfunctory greeting.
“I’m Hosoo. I’ll be in charge of your training starting today.”
His soft, almost musical voice carried an unmistakable hint of annoyance as he pulled out a thin white stick. It looked about the size and shape of a conductor’s baton. With a few lazy flicks of his wrist, single-seat sofas and a device resembling a blood pressure monitor materialized in front of them.
“This morning, we’ll be doing Guide measurements. Step forward when I call your name.”
Silence filled the room. Everyone had a dozen questions, things they wanted to say—but Hosoo’s presence was so overwhelming that no one dared to speak first. Even Kim Se-hee, who was usually the one to lighten the mood with her cheerful personality, just sat there staring at him blankly. Wait—maybe it wasn’t intimidation. Maybe she was just totally entranced by his looks. His introduction had been brief to the point of rudeness, but since no one had called him out for it, they were probably all equally spellbound.
“Is he… an Esper?”
Unlike Kim Se-hee, Ryu Yoon-jae was confused by the way Hosoo had just used his power—whatever it was. Given his looks, it wasn’t a stretch to mistake him for an Esper. After all, most Espers looked like they belonged on magazine covers.
“His employee ID has a blue stripe. That means he’s a Guide.”
“Oh, right!”
Despite being seated quite a distance away, the two of them were suddenly pulled forward, as if sucked toward Hosoo. Their bodies felt like they’d lurched forward, but they were still sitting on the same sofas.
Judging by the soft glow of the baton in Hosoo’s hand, he had clearly used an ability.
The sofa, previously positioned in a corner, now sat right in front of him. Kwon Ho-eun, who already had a healthy skepticism toward Ability Tools, looked visibly irritated but was thoroughly ignored.
“Alright. Let me explain why we’re doing Guide measurements. You’ve seen the ranks on your employee IDs, right? S, A, B, C, and D. The higher the rank, the greater the amount of guiding energy a Guide can produce. A Guide has to know how much guiding they’re capable of in order to protect their own body. Just like Espers go into Ability Overload, Guides can also push past their limits and damage themselves.”
“Gasp!”
Unlike Ho-eun, who’d guided before, Kim Se-hee and Ryu Yoon-jae looked genuinely startled.
So that’s why…
He remembered how drained he felt after guiding Do In-ho—physically exhausted just from being in contact with him. It must’ve been the energy drain.
“Guides are civilians. Unlike Espers, we can’t heal ourselves. Direct Guiding takes a huge toll on your stamina. If you keep overexerting yourself with Guiding, it can literally kill you. That’s why we measure your guiding capacity. An S-rank Guide should handle S-rank Espers. A D-rank Guide should stick with D-rank Espers.”
Hosoo paused and pointed to the Guide Watch on his wrist.
“This Guide Watch—if anything happens to you, if your vitals go off, it’s set to automatically contact the Guide Corporation.”
His gaze shifted from the watch to the machine.
“Now, we’ll begin the Guiding measurements. You’re going to insert your arm into that device. It’s a simple action, so the readings might not be perfect.”
“……”
“The first stage uses this machine to analyze your Broadcast Guiding output and internal guiding reserves. It’ll give us a percentage. The second stage involves Direct Guiding with an Esper, to assess how much your body can handle. Combine both results, and we get your final rank. Everyone knows the second stage—the hands-on Guiding exercise—happens Friday, right?”
Stage one was a non-contact measurement of a Guide’s latent capacity. Stage two was the real deal—actual Direct Guiding of an Esper.
Kwon Ho-eun stroked his chin, lost in thought.
“Alright, Kim Se-hee. You’re up first.”
They stepped forward in turn and began the measurements. When they inserted their arms into the machine, it made a whirring sound and shot out a green laser around the limb. The laser seemed to emit some kind of electrical pulse—it stung where it touched their skin. Once the scan was complete, Hosoo stood before them with the printouts.
“Kim Se-hee: 49%.”
“Is that low?”
“Average is usually around 45 to 50%, so no, you’re fine. Next, Ryu Yoon-jae: 62%. That’s pretty high.”
“Thank you!”
“Don’t thank me. I didn’t do anything.”
Finally, Hosoo picked up Ho-eun’s results. The stage one machine wasn’t known for its precision, usually giving lower readings than a Guide’s actual potential. So if someone scored over 90% here, it was basically a lock—they were S-rank.
“Kwon Ho-eun, eighte…”
Hosoo trailed off, thinking he must’ve read the number wrong. It was three digits. Not 18%. One hundred and eight percent.
No S-rank Guide in the entire Guide Corporation had ever scored above 100% on a stage one reading.
“Why are you cussing at me all of a sudden?”
Pouting dramatically, Ho-eun acted like he was hurt. Se-hee and Yoon-jae patted his shoulder comfortingly.
Hosoo let out a dry laugh and licked his parched lips. The printout in his hand crumpled under the pressure of his grip.
“Kwon Ho-eun.”
“Yes?”
“Your machine’s glitched. We’re doing a retest.”
Hosoo glanced briefly at the Guide Watches on their wrists. If memory served, those watches had built-in listening devices. Saying anything out of line here would be a mistake.
Maintaining his poker face, Hosoo tapped the measurement machine a few times. Maybe it overheated? His calm demeanor fooled them completely—none of the interns suspected he was faking it.
“Let’s take a short break.”
Slipping out naturally, Hosoo walked down the empty hallway and into the smoking room. With practiced ease, he lit a cigarette and flattened the wrinkled results page. Could the machine really have just overheated and glitched? Even after seeing the number, 108, it still felt unreal.
He took a long drag, then exhaled. His phone buzzed in his jacket pocket.
“What.”
—Deputy Director! How could you go off to do intern training at a time like this? You’re not even a team lead, you’re a Deputy Director! Something’s happened because you’re not here!
“Ugh, my ears. Lower your damn voice. What happened now?”
—There was a decision made this morning. Do In-ho’s being disciplined.
“For what? What did he do this time?”
—Apparently, the soon-to-be-full-time Guide, Ahn Oh-hyuk, filed an assault complaint against Do In-ho. Said he lured an intern Guide into helping him beat up another Guide…
“Ugh. Any evidence?”
—He submitted a hospital record. It’s only been a week, but they already processed the report and shared it during the meeting.
Hosoo massaged his temple, trying to recall which intern Do In-ho had allegedly “lured.”
“So what’s the punishment?”
—Official ban on all Guiding and prescription stimulant treatments.
“Great. Just great.”
Hosoo scowled. For such a petty accusation to result in disciplinary action—it was obvious. Someone was trying to trigger an early Ability Overload.
“Send me the list of everyone who attended the meeting. I’ll call you later.”
—Understood, Deputy Director. Please come back soon! We’ve got other urgent issues too…!
Hosoo ended the call without replying and stuck the cigarette back in his mouth. An unscheduled Overload meant the Esper Corporation couldn’t legally reclaim the resulting Ability Core. In cases like that, whoever picked up the Core first got to keep it.
“Someone’s after Do In-ho’s Core.”
It was obvious. They’d stack him with missions without Guiding. That would rapidly drain his guiding capacity.
If they left Do In-ho alone on some dangerous assignment and set a trap, the whole thing would collapse—like knocking over a tower the Esper Corporation spent ten years building, just with a flick of a finger.
This time, Hosoo had made a deal with the President of the Esper Corporation to split Do In-ho’s Core. He couldn’t let anyone else snatch it.
Where are they planning to steal it from? I can’t sit back and do nothing.
“What now…”
The official Guiding route was blocked. Even if he went underground, where would he find a Guide capable of handling someone like Do In-ho?
“…Wait a second.”
A certain someone came to mind. The one who guided Do In-ho the other day and still walked away on both feet. The guy who just scored 108% on his initial test.
The Esper Corporation defined “official Guiding” as something done by full-time Guides. That meant interns didn’t count.
The whole mess had supposedly started because Do In-ho seduced a certain intern Guide—yet that intern wasn’t included in the punishment. He dodged disciplinary action, but not Hosoo.
He seems like the righteous, meddlesome type… Yeah, let’s make him take some responsibility too.
Hosoo exhaled a stream of smoke and flicked his stubbed cigarette into the ashtray. He pulled out his phone and called the intern supervisor at headquarters.
“This is Hosoo, in charge of the 72nd internship training program. Reporting first-stage Guiding results. Kim Se-hee: 49%. Ryu Yoon-jae: 62%. And finally, Kwon Ho-eun: 18%.”
As he clicked open his Zippo lighter, Hosoo lit Ho-eun’s results sheet on fire. Flames raced across the page. In moments, it was nothing but ash.
It was a lie he’d get caught in soon enough—but he didn’t care.
