“I wasn’t thinking straight.”
Seated at his desk, Ho-eun played the recording. His fingers moved steadily across his personal laptop keyboard, transcribing the dialogue and drafting the report—nothing unusual in his routine.
“Don’t think of it as being cold. Han Yeo-ul doesn’t know who we are. Besides, we’ll only get one or two chances to make contact like today.”
At Paul’s words, Ho-eun nodded—but his thoughts were elsewhere.
If it’s one or two times… that means there’s still a second time.
Do In-ho cleared his workspace and brought his equipment over to Ho-eun’s side.
The laptop screen split into multiple feeds from the CCTV cameras installed around Yeo-ul’s usual locations—her school, her academy, and other frequented places.
On screen, Yeo-ul was in class, secretly opening the box she’d received earlier. Inside sat a stuffed rabbit.
“Now that I think about it, didn’t we plant a bug inside the rabbit? That means we’ll be able to monitor what happens at home too.”
Ho-eun’s typing paused. Kang Him-chan whistled casually, jutting out his lips when Paul shot him a sharp look.
“Han Yeo-ul’s observation period ends next Sunday. We’ve avoided interfering with her home until now, but at this stage, surveillance is unavoidable.”
At Paul’s remark, Ho-eun’s lips curved faintly upward. Catching that, Do In-ho checked which frequency the bug was tuned to.
***
Since there were no English academy sessions today, the field operation went smoothly.
Paul and Do In-ho took turns tailing Yeo-ul from a distance during her movements, while Ho-eun, after finishing his report, focused entirely on the CCTV feed.
Compared to other weekdays, her Wednesday schedule was fairly light. When Yeo-ul returned home around 7 p.m., the day’s monitoring ended.
Back at the Incheon branch, Do In-ho and Kwon Ho-eun entered the PR Department conference room.
“We’re back.”
Placing his bag on the table, Ho-eun slowly scanned the photos and notes pinned to the whiteboard.
Aside from Park Ki-hyun, all the faces were new. None looked like ordinary citizens—rough exteriors that didn’t suit everyday jobs. In the center, one name was written in bold letters: DRAGON.
“Dragon…”
“That’s the organization Park Ki-hyun’s in. I mean, seriously, Dragon? What are they, middle schoolers?”
Assistant Manager Bae Yeon-woo crumpled the paper in annoyance, saying it was childish.
The team assigned to Park Ki-hyun hadn’t been able to join field ops, so they hadn’t held a joint meeting today either.
Watching the two colleagues gather data on what appeared to be an underworld-connected suspect, Ho-eun looked around curiously.
“Wait, there are still gangsters in this day and age?”
Bae Yeon-woo yawned at the question. Taking a sip of his now-cold coffee, he slid a document across the table to Ho-eun.
“They’re just not as visible. But yeah, they’re still around. Drugs, gambling, loan sharking—you name it, Dragon’s into it. Looks like Park Ki-hyun got scouted by them recently.”
Flipping through the crime records Bae had compiled, Ho-eun was genuinely impressed at how someone could commit that many crimes and still avoid arrest.
“That guy started out buying drugs from Dragon, then reselling them for several times the price.”
Bae pinched a bit of white powder from a sealed bag and gave it a shake, as if for emphasis.
“Since Park Ki-hyun’s an Esper suspect, anyone who took the drugs he got must’ve experienced his ability—hallucinations so vivid they felt real. Word spread fast, all the way up to Dragon’s boss.”
“Then doesn’t that make him definitely an Esper? Shouldn’t we arrest him quickly?”
At Ho-eun’s suggestion, Bae shook his head.
“There’s no proof. If we didn’t even have the drugs, we could at least gather testimony from the hallucination victims. But right now, we can’t tell if it’s his ability or the narcotics. The HR Department needs solid evidence.”
Nam Woon-soo walked in with freshly boiled coffee from the electric kettle and refilled Bae’s mug.
Steam rose from the once-cold cup.
“And of course, just when we started cooperating with HR, the guy joined Dragon. Now it’s nearly impossible to reach him. It’s a membership system, and money alone won’t get you in.”
“What’s the membership criteria?”
“There are two. One, an invitation from an existing member they trust completely. Two, becoming one of their targets.”
As he poured coffee into his own cup, Nam flinched slightly, as if he’d burned his hand.
“Targets?”
“Their gambling business. It means being one of the victims.”
Answering Ho-eun’s question, Bae rubbed his temples with a groan.
“We’re compiling a list of those victims now. We’ll probably have to disguise one of us and infiltrate through that route.”
Cursing under his breath, Bae muttered that things were getting complicated.
“But since they’re using a membership system, won’t that make it harder for the anti-government group to approach Park Ki-hyun?”
At that, Bae collapsed face-down on the desk. His sigh was deep enough to pierce the Earth’s core, and Ho-eun wisely stayed quiet.
“No. We’ve been getting played all along.”
Nam jabbed Ho-eun’s shoulder with his finger and pointed toward the whiteboard.
“?”
A photo was pinned there—one Ho-eun knew very well.
“Anti-government Esper Wonsin. Even with a membership system, the only reason their info’s this airtight is because he’s controlling them mentally.”
“You mean Dragon and Tiger are connected?!”
Before Ho-eun could finish his sentence, Do In-ho spoke up.
“Exactly. That’s why they didn’t bother kidnapping Park Ki-hyun. He was already under their thumb.”
HR monitors Esper suspects and scouts them to the Esper Corporation once their ability’s confirmed.
PR hunts down anti-government Espers.
And right now, both operations involving Park Ki-hyun had gone completely off-track.
“All that waiting for ability proof, and in the end, the anti-government guys snatched him right under us.”
Lifting his head, Bae took a long sip of his hot coffee.
“The silver lining is—if we take down Dragon, we’ll get a lead on the anti-government network too. Either way, infiltration’s urgent.”
Taking out his notebook, Ho-eun drew a clear mind map summarizing what Bae said. Anti-government plus organized crime. What a combination.
“But isn’t Wonsin supposed to look like a little kid? How’d a gangster group like Dragon end up partnering with him?”
“His mental domination ability includes brainwashing. He probably used that. Though even then, the Guiding cost must’ve been huge.”
Muttering to himself, Bae picked up his pack of cigarettes and stood.
“Anyway, nothing unusual on your end, right?”
He looked exhausted—clearly in need of rest.
Ho-eun wanted to bring up Han Yeo-ul, but he swallowed the words that rose to his throat. He couldn’t delay Bae’s long-overdue night off.
“If there’s nothing else, we’ll wrap up here too. You guys head out first.”
“Understood. We’ll get going.”
After giving a polite bow, Ho-eun grabbed Do In-ho by the arm and left the building. By 10 p.m., the sky outside was pitch black.
“Anything unusual?”
“She’s still studying in her room, with the rabbit nearby.”
When Ho-eun asked, Do In-ho covered the earpiece in his left ear with his hand.
He was listening through the bug inside the rabbit—thankfully, Yeo-ul hadn’t thrown it away but placed it right in her room.
“Maybe I should be the one listening.”
Ho-eun reached for the earpiece, but Do In-ho stopped him, taking his hand instead.
They swung their joined hands gently as they walked toward the dormitory, the chirping of crickets wrapping around them like a song.
“Earlier, when HR told me not to cause trouble for the team…”
A smooth, clear voice broke through the night air, brushing softly against Ho-eun’s ear.
“I started wondering—am I just trying to play hero even though I’m a Guide? Our top priority’s supposed to be Espers.”
The sky above was so black it looked like someone had painted it over with ink—no stars in sight tonight.
Walking ahead, Ho-eun suddenly stopped.
Do In-ho, gazing at the slender ankles and sharply outlined ankle bone in front of him, came to a halt as well.
“When I see things like this, I know I’ll keep stepping in… But you don’t have to keep forcing yourself to go along with me. So if you ever feel like you don’t want to…”
Though Ho-eun’s back was broad, it was still noticeably smaller than Do In-ho’s.
Before that small frame could vanish into the darkness, Do In-ho wrapped his arms around him.
“If we get caught doing this without approval, we’ll be held accountable.”
His calm voice came from right beside Ho-eun’s ear.
“We could get disciplined—like at 63 Square.”
The lips pressed to his nape began to trail upward.
“But honestly, I don’t care. As long as it’s with you. Whatever it is—discipline, punishment—I’m fine.”
“……”
“Good things, bad things… let’s just do them together. I’ll take responsibility.”
Do In-ho whispered so close that his breath brushed Ho-eun’s skin, then started to pull away.
“Wait.”
Flustered, Ho-eun caught him before he could see his face—his cheeks felt like they were burning.
“…Just stay like this a little longer.”
A cool breeze blew, soothing the heat on his flushed face.
Even his voice sounds unfairly perfect.
Everywhere their bodies touched felt hot.
Afraid his trembling breath would give him away, Ho-eun held it for a moment.
***
Back at the dorm, the two got ready for bed and shared the earpiece between them.
Technically, each had their own set, but for some reason, they always ended up sharing.
“It’s quiet. Maybe she’s asleep?”
Sitting on the couch with a warm cup of tea, Ho-eun spoke softly.
“Her breathing’s steady. I think she’s asleep.”
Do In-ho brought over a blanket and draped it over Ho-eun’s shoulders before sitting beside him.
“You can hear that kind of thing?”
Ho-eun set his cup down on the coffee table.
The warmth of the tea made him yawn, eyes watering slightly as he wiped at them. That was when it started.
“How much is left, then?”
“Not even a hundred million won now.”
“You said we could make more! What the hell are we supposed to do?!”
Their voices came muffled, warped as though through static.
“That’s her parents, right?”
“Sounds like it.”
Sleep vanished from Ho-eun’s face. He straightened his back and focused on the audio.
“How do you lose that much in a week?! Were you scammed?!”
“You think I wanted to lose it?! What’s the problem anyway? We’ve got her, don’t we?”
Thud, thud—footsteps, followed by a door opening.
“Mmm… Dad?”
“Yeah, Yeo-ul. You didn’t dream any lottery numbers tonight?”
“No…”
“Don’t lie! You just don’t wanna share it with us, do you? You can see it!!!”
“N-no… really… I didn’t dream anything this time…”
“Then hurry up and dream! You think we’re keeping you for fun?! You better be worth something before we sell you off!”
“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”
Hearing that, Ho-eun shot to his feet.
