Lee Mihyun handed the Pair a fairly thick questionnaire and thought to herself that complicated activities would probably be difficult today.
“This is a mandatory Pair psychological survey. It takes a while, so take your time with it.”
“Yes.”
At timing like this, Ji Gwan-young would normally already be starting in with his usual sarcastic remarks, but today he remained silent.
Completely ignoring him, Choi Tae-hoon took only his own copy out of the two questionnaires Mihyun had handed over and left the other one in the center of the table.
For the first time, the sullen-faced Esper reacted.
One of those elegantly arched black eyebrows twitched upward.
That was the very first stage of “Ji Gwan-young is displeased.”
The researchers at The Center, who all knew that far too well by now, unconsciously swallowed dryly. Even Oh Yeon, sitting a little farther away, read the irritated expression and let out an exhausted sigh.
Being the focus of everyone’s attention was something Ji Gwan-young naturally accepted—but being ignored was something he would never get used to.
At last, his lips parted.
“What kind of trash like this are we wasting time on… Choi Tae-hoon. Why don’t you step outside for a second?”
As expected, that ill-tempered Esper harshly criticized one of The Center’s shining research methods before it had even begun. Thanks to that, the neat eyes fixed only on the questionnaire narrowed slightly.
Choi Tae-hoon looked at his Esper with somewhat cold eyes before answering quietly,
“What for?”
“What do you think? Want me to say it here?”
Truthfully, Choi Tae-hoon was not in very good condition today.
The handprints vividly left along the waist leading down to his pelvis, and the traces of rough sex lingering all over his body, were only now beginning to ache faintly.
Ji Gwan-young knew that very well.
His entire attention had been fixed on his Guide, so there was no way he wouldn’t know. He could tell just from the faintly rough breaths Tae-hoon let out while trying to hide the pain whenever he moved.
Eventually, Tae-hoon let out a long sigh and pushed back his chair to stand.
Choi Tae-hoon—that Guide was currently the only person in this entire Center capable of standing up to an Esper whose power had no visible limit.
The researchers waved awkwardly as they watched Tae-hoon bow politely one last time before heading out.
What on earth had those two fought about?
The lab grew even quieter than before.
It was enough to awaken a slightly malicious voyeuristic curiosity in everyone present.
Ji Gwan-young and Choi Tae-hoon had overlooked something because they were too focused on each other.
Most of the researchers in this room were Espers.
Which also meant that even if the two went outside to talk, listening in through a few thick concrete walls wasn’t difficult at all.
Not a single person moved their pen.
Every researcher sharpened their hearing with all their might to eavesdrop on the infamous Pair’s conversation.
Before long, the first one to speak was Choi Tae-hoon.
“…Ji Gwan-young-ssi.”
Tae-hoon inhaled once before speaking. The researchers focused so intensely that even that tiny sound of breathing made them swallow nervously.
“What exactly are we to each other?”
“You’re my Guide.”
“Yes. And Ji Gwan-young-ssi is my Esper. But that’s a ‘relationship.’ I mean what are we to each other? What exactly are we?”
From somewhere in the lab came a tiny whisper:
“Daaamn. This is insane.”
Compared to the current situation, even Ji Gwan-young’s wildly popular Wednesday-Thursday dramas were nothing. Right from the start, the dialogue was explosive. The Espers, who had known Tae-hoon for ages, kept gasping at his painfully earnest opening.
But that was nothing compared to what came next.
“If marriage isn’t allowed… then what about dating?”
“What?”
“I’m asking if I can date instead of getting married.”
The researchers instantly erupted into a stir.
The Espers hurriedly relayed the conversation to the Guide researchers, who couldn’t hear through the concrete walls.
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.”
“No way.”
The Guide researchers were practically clapping in excitement at the live broadcast unfolding before them.
“Looks like Ji Gwan-young told Tae-hoon not to get married. Holy shit.”
But unlike the thrilled researchers enjoying the real-time drama, Ji Gwan-young’s voice turned ominous in an instant.
“Do you want to die?”
“Why is it always death with you?! Isn’t protecting me your job?!”
“And what about you? You said you’d protect me too! Keep your word!”
…Who was protecting who?
A story between the two that had never once been revealed before—a massive bombshell, in common terms—had just exploded.
No, seriously. Those two men with those immaculate faces were having a conversation that sounded too dramatic even for a movie while they fought.
And on top of that, Choi Tae-hoon—who had absolutely no powers whatsoever—had apparently told Ji Gwan-young, an Esper nobody in The Center could so much as touch, that he would protect him?
Worse still, that foul-tempered Esper was now angrily demanding Tae-hoon keep that promise.
Because everyone around him was making such a fuss, Oh Yeon had finally opened his hearing to see what the commotion was about, only to end up with a deeply strange expression on his face.
Because the conversation being exchanged between the Esper he disliked in every possible way and the Choi Tae-hoon he treasured far too much was getting dangerously serious.
“If marrying someone else means all three of us die, then I said I’d just date instead! If you won’t even allow that, then what am I supposed to do?! You’re seriously selfish!”
Lee Mihyun, who had been listening more enthusiastically than anyone else, unconsciously muttered under her breath,
“Wow, what a bastard.”
This was more entertaining than any drama she’d ever seen.
And Ji Gwan-young actually possessed the power to turn this ridiculous melodrama into reality.
One Esper who was obsessed with dramas had already started wheezing so hard he could barely breathe.
At this point, the mini-series starring Esper Ji Gwan-young and Guide Choi Tae-hoon was rapidly approaching its climax.
“You can date! Who said you can’t?!”
“With who?! Should I go on blind dates or something?! Huh?! Ah, then at least introduce me to someone before saying things like that!”
The researchers’ eyes widened.
This was the first time they’d ever heard Choi Tae-hoon—normally endlessly gentle and polite—actually yell at someone.
Though all of them were desperately biting down on their lips to keep from grinning too hard.
At Tae-hoon’s raised voice, a low scoff escaped Ji Gwan-young.
Anyone could hear the anger in that laugh.
There wasn’t even a trace of amusement in it.
Lee Mihyun, who knew far too well what Ji Gwan-young was like when he got angry, unconsciously clenched her fists nervously.
“Are you insane?”
Just as expected, the Esper spoke in a voice dripping with dark irritation.
Was he going to explode? Surely he wasn’t about to yell at Choi Tae-hoon?
The researchers all swallowed dryly.
And their guesses were partially right.
Ji Gwan-young absolutely did yell at Choi Tae-hoon.
Of course, the content was nowhere near ordinary.
“Date me, you idiot! Have that damn ‘relationship’ with me!”
Without question, that was probably the most terrifying confession Choi Tae-hoon had ever received in all twenty-eight years of his life.
Somewhere nearby, a pen clattered to the floor.
The researchers abruptly stopped their noisy commentary as they mentally replayed the sentence they’d just heard.
One of the Guide researchers, dying of curiosity, hurriedly urged the Esper researcher beside them.
“What did Ji Gwan-young say? Huh?”
“…He told him to date him.”
The Guide researcher’s jaw dropped completely open at words beyond anything they’d imagined.
One Esper researcher with clairvoyant abilities secretly peeked through the wall and whispered excitedly,
“Pfft— Tae-hoon’s face turned bright red, hey!”
Several Espers sighed regretfully, lamenting the fact that they lacked such an ability.
This was definitely something you needed to witness in person.
As always, reality was even crazier than dramas.
