Seo Won, who had just sat up, couldn’t immediately comprehend the situation—why Cha Han-gyeom was lying on top of him, fast asleep.
Then it hit him—the pandemonium that had erupted in the main hall during the product demonstration.
As soon as the ear-splitting, piercing noise hit, his ESP began thrashing wildly inside him like it was screaming. Most of the espers present had collapsed to the floor, crying out or groaning in agony.
Seo Won had also fallen, his breath catching in his throat, a pained moan slipping out as the storm raging inside his body overwhelmed him.
Because of the rampaging ESP, the Black Vein that spread throughout his body started slithering like a snake. It didn’t stop there—what had once felt like ten snakes now felt like a hundred, writhing violently, thrashing as if trying to claim his mind.
He was certain of it this time—he was losing control.
From the moment the Black Vein reached his throat, he had always braced himself for the inevitable outbreak. Even though he had fought tooth and nail to stay alive, resignation came swiftly.
Then—
“Seo Won!”
Someone called out his name.
Even amid the shrieking noise that sliced through ESPs and the unbearable, mind-shattering storm, that voice rang out clearly.
“Han-gyeom-ssi? Weren’t you with Ah-young? No, wait—are you okay?”
“I’m fine. This sound only affects espers.”
“What? Sound…?”
The conversation between the two drifted over from nearby.
Cha Han-gyeom had come.
His Imprinter, Cha Han-gyeom.
The moment he had completely let go, surrendered to despair, that voice pierced through him—bringing with it a flicker of hope.
If it was Cha Han-gyeom, maybe… maybe even in this state, he could save him. Maybe he’d do whatever it took not to let this heart die a second time. But as that fragile hope took root, a muddled voice crept in.
Is he really trying to save me? Or does he just want to bring back the Imprinter he failed to save?
Doubt, unease, humiliation, and sorrow surged through him all at once.
Voices dragged up by the Black Vein—voices of those who had once wished for his death—began to echo in his ears.
You came back alive, huh? Even though we sent you there to die. Everyone died because of you. Now it’s your turn. You have to die to break this curse. It should’ve been you instead.
He had wished to die in someone else’s place. He had wished for someone else to live in his place. Everyone close to him had felt the same.
So even without hearing the answer, he already knew. It was too obvious who Cha Han-gyeom truly wanted to save.
It was never him…
“Get a grip, Seo Won.”
Han-gyeom’s clear voice instantly crushed the torrent of negativity.
He had called his name.
“I won’t let you die. Ever.”
Seo Won looked down at Cha Han-gyeom, limp in his arms.
Han-gyeom had passed out from complete exhaustion—his body was utterly lifeless, enough to make Seo Won wonder if he had actually died. His breathing was so faint that Seo Won had to bring his fingers to the tip of Han-gyeom’s nose just to check.
Still cradling Han-gyeom, Seo Won slowly sat up. Naturally, this shifted Han-gyeom’s body to rest on his lap, their chests pressed together in a close, seated embrace. Seo Won had moved gently, but Han-gyeom didn’t stir at all, locked in a deep, unshakable sleep.
Their hearts beat in almost perfect sync where they touched. With nothing between them, each heartbeat echoed clearly.
Was it because their Imprints were connected… that they resonated even more strongly?
It felt as though the entire space had become a single, unified heartbeat.
Knock knock—
“Han-gyeom-ssi, are you okay?”
It was Jung Ah-young’s voice.
She had been outside the whole time, worried sick about Han-gyeom who had locked himself away with Seo Won, who had passed out. When they didn’t come out for over six hours, anxiety finally got the better of her and she’d knocked on the door.
No response came from inside.
Nervous something might have happened, Ah-young hesitantly opened the door.
“Han-gyeom…! Director Seo!”
She had started calling Han-gyeom’s name softly, but her voice instantly rose as soon as she saw the scene.
Seated upright, Seo Won was holding Han-gyeom in his arms. Their eyes met.
Seo Won’s bare body was covered in Black Vein, but to Ah-young—just an ordinary person—none of it was visible. All she saw was the man she thought was as good as dead, finally awake.
Overcome with emotion, she rushed over, tears in her eyes, though the joy was plain on her face.
“Do you have any idea how worried I was?! You suddenly just…!”
“Jung Ah-young.”
Seo Won’s voice cut through—strangely quiet, yet laced with menace.
“Don’t make noise. Shut your mouth.”
The hand gently stroking Han-gyeom’s back was so tender it felt dreamlike, but the voice that left Seo Won’s lips sounded like that of a predator.
Ah-young snapped her mouth shut, startled—her expression a mix of shock and disbelief.
***
He had no idea how long he’d slept.
When Han-gyeom woke up, he stared blankly at the unfamiliar ceiling, quickly trying to sort through the haziness in his head.
Ah, right—this is the hotel.
He had half-expected to see the ornate ceiling of the mansion, so the plain wallpaper had thrown him off.
As soon as that thought clicked, Han-gyeom’s eyes flew open and he tried to sit up abruptly. But his urgency amounted to nothing—his body barely moved.
GP, in a way, was the very essence of a Guide’s vitality. He had drawn out every last drop of it, wrung himself dry, so it was no surprise he felt like this. At this rate, he might not even be able to move properly until his GP recovered to a decent level.
The most he could do was twitch a fingertip or two—so, flat on his back, all he could really do was glance around and get lost in thought.
It seemed he’d been moved to a different room. The interior was distinctly different from the one where he’d conducted the Guiding session earlier. This looked more like another bedroom within a suite or family-type hotel room.
Is Seo Won okay…?
Just before he’d sunk into what was practically unconsciousness, he remembered shaving down every last one of those dangerous strands threatening Seo Won. The amount he’d guided in those six hours matched what would normally take him several sessions.
I really must be insane.
It had been ages since he’d completely burned through his GP like that.
He thought he’d successfully suppressed it, but that didn’t mean he could relax. Those volatile currents—once they burst out—could surge back at any time, so he’d have to stay cautious.
Just then, he felt a presence. The door opened shortly after.
“You’re awake.”
It was Seo Won, thankfully.
He had undone two buttons on his black dress shirt, missing both his tie and vest, revealing a clear view of his collarbone.
Thank god.
The skin visible through the parted shirt—his neck and collarbone—looked so clean, so unblemished, that it was hard to believe this was someone who carried the Black Vein. The expansion that had once spread wide must have completely receded during the six-hour Guiding session.
“Ah…”
Han-gyeom parted his lips to speak, only to flinch at the dull sluggishness of his tongue. Just like the rest of his body, it wouldn’t respond—he could barely move the very tip of it, let alone form words properly.
“Your voice isn’t coming out?”
Seo Won furrowed his brow and approached.
“Does your throat hurt?”
Something about the way Seo Won said it struck Han-gyeom as a bit odd, but for now, he just nodded slightly in response. Then, his eyes subtly shifted toward the glass of water in Seo Won’s hand.
Without asking, Seo Won slipped a hand behind Han-gyeom’s head to support him, lifting it gently. As the water touched his lips, Han-gyeom instinctively parted them.
But thanks to his dulled tongue, he couldn’t drink properly—most of the water just dribbled out the side of his mouth.
He half-expected Seo Won to look annoyed, even if it wasn’t on purpose. But surprisingly, Seo Won’s face remained completely neutral.
What’s with that?
There was a lingering sense of dissonance about Seo Won.
Han-gyeom couldn’t quite put his finger on what exactly felt off, so for now, he simply observed in silence.
After managing to feed him only a small amount of water, Seo Won lifted the cup to his own lips. He took a cool, steady gulp—then suddenly leaned in toward Han-gyeom.
“…!”
His damp lips pressed against Han-gyeom’s. A moment later, a cool stream of water, laced with the chill of his tongue, flowed into Han-gyeom’s mouth.
Because it was transferred mouth-to-mouth, there was little spillage. Han-gyeom’s throat bobbed sharply as he swallowed.
The moment Seo Won’s lips touched his, Han-gyeom tensed instinctively. With his GP completely depleted, he was in no condition to initiate a kiss-based Guiding.
Unless he forcibly extracted it through an auxiliary device—something like a Guiding control unit—there was no way he could do it right now. And that device wasn’t available.
Still, even as he received the water, his mind remained fixated on Guiding.
Every time their lips had met in the past, it had always come with that intent—so reflexively, Han-gyeom tried to summon his GP.
His eyes glowed faint red, and a subtle crimson hue spread across his lips. But contrary to his expectations, Seo Won quickly pulled away.
“What are you doing?”
Han-gyeom couldn’t understand why Seo Won looked so conflicted.
Was it because the Guiding hadn’t worked properly?
He wanted to explain—that this was all he could manage for now—but his lips only trembled, the noise that came out more of a moan than intelligible speech.
Seo Won gently wiped away the trickle of water at the corner of Han-gyeom’s mouth with his palm and gave him a quiet warning.
“No more Guiding. For now.”
“…?”
