“Ugh….”
Jae-woo dropped to his knees with a heavy thud as his vision spun. An overwhelming dizziness crashed into him, followed by a violent wave of nausea. Clutching his mouth with one hand, he gagged uncontrollably.
His already pale face broke out in a cold sweat, beads of moisture forming across his skin.
This wasn’t a sensation anyone would mistake for something ordinary.
The barrier…?
The invisible barrier he had cast over the room had been forcibly shattered.
It was the same type of barrier Han-gyeom had used at the house he worked in. An invisible wall surrounded the room, undetectable to the average person. Only those explicitly authorized could pass through it.
The only ones he’d allowed access to were himself—and out of habit—Cha Han-gyeom.
That meant someone outside those two had intentionally broken it. Normally, ordinary people wouldn’t even be able to sense the existence of a barrier, let alone affect it.
An Esper who can break through a barrier like that? But even if there is… why?
Amid the swirling chaos in his head, Han-gyeom’s voice resurfaced.
“There are unregistered Espers targeting me. As long as I stay inside this mansion, they won’t dare make a move, but you… you’re outside.”
That was exactly why Han-gyeom had told him to stay hidden in the new house.
He didn’t know why they were after Han-gyeom, but even without hearing the full story, it was clear. He could be used as bait—or worse, a hostage.
But this wasn’t some movie cliché. It felt disturbingly real.
Whoever it was hadn’t just disrupted the barrier—they’d completely shattered it. That meant they came with a clear and deliberate intent.
Run… I have to run…
Because the barrier had been forcibly dismantled, he’d have to endure this intense dizziness for at least five more minutes. During that time, setting up a new barrier with altered parameters was practically impossible.
And even if he somehow managed to throw up another one, it would be pointless against someone who’d already proven they could tear it down.
In the end, Jae-woo turned his gaze not to the door—but to the window.
It was the third floor, but if he timed it right and jumped well, he might just make it. If memory served him right, there was a large, leafy tree near this side of the window. If he aimed for that, he could avoid dying, at least.
Just as he was staggering away from the door, trying to make his way toward the window, someone approached without a sound and knocked.
The same person who had shattered the barrier with enough force to cause a backdraft was now casually knocking on the door—tap tap—like it was nothing. That alone was terrifying.
Jae-woo froze, stiff with tension and fear. Then came a voice, and his eyes shot wide open.
“Jae-woo, it’s me.”
It was a familiar voice. Not just familiar—it was so comforting that his hand instinctively reached for the doorknob.
“Don’t see that Guide again.”
But the instinct to open the door was firmly restrained by reason.
Jae-woo dragged a trembling hand across his flushed face, attempting a dry wash to calm himself down. His breathing was ragged, and he struggled to steady it, though his hands kept shaking like an alcoholic in withdrawal.
His gasps grew even more urgent, and a primal craving surged up, drowning out even the lingering dizziness.
Guiding.
Guiding. Guiding.
I need Guiding.
I’m going to die.
Please, guide me.
Countless voices echoed through his mind. His entire body trembled uncontrollably, consumed by the desperate need for Guiding.
If he could just receive it—he felt like he could do anything. If he had to crawl on the floor like a dog, he would. If they stepped on him, he’d silently lie there and take it.
As long as someone… as long as he, the one beyond this door, would guide him.
Overwhelmed by the need, Jae-woo’s hand moved slowly. He pushed the doorknob he had been gripping, swallowing dryly at the sound of the lock clicking open.
Standing on the other side of the open door was a man.
A man with a warm, kind aura and the same gentle smile he always wore, looking straight at Jae-woo.
Panting heavily, Jae-woo peered past the man’s shoulder. Since the man was a Guide, there had to be an Esper nearby who had shattered his barrier—but strangely enough, the man stood alone.
“Where… where’s the other person?”
“I came alone.”
“That can’t be…”
Jae-woo stared at him with a tense, conflicted expression, trying to suppress the urge clawing at him from within.
The man didn’t seem to be lying, but the vivid memory of the overwhelming dizziness was still fresh in his mind.
Fixing his gaze on the empty hallway behind the man—void of any presence—Jae-woo asked,
“How did you even get here? No one knows I’m here.”
“I’ve known for a while. I just took my time getting here.”
“W-What…?”
“As long as we’re connected through Guiding, I’ll always know where you are, Song Jae-woo.”
“That’s… that’s not possible…”
A chill ran down his spine. He couldn’t tell if the man was telling the truth—but this wasn’t the kind of thing someone would usually lie about.
If what the man said was true, then it meant that no matter how thoroughly Jae-woo cut off contact and went into hiding, he could be found at any time.
In reality, cutting contact and disappearing shouldn’t have caused the man any trouble.
From the very beginning, he’d refused to accept anything in exchange for Guiding. He said he only took Jae-woo’s hand because he seemed to need it—not for compensation. Once Jae-woo went silent, that unreciprocated act of goodwill should’ve ended there. Since he no longer needed to offer Guiding for free, there was no reason for him to go out of his way to find Jae-woo and face him like this.
The one who was truly desperate from not being able to see the man was Jae-woo himself.
It wasn’t just Han-gyeom—even with any other Guide, it was always the same reaction. The moment someone else tried to guide him, all he felt was a crawling disgust, like insects skittering across his skin.
Guiding that began with revulsion had no beneficial effect on his body. Instead, it only fanned the flames of his thirst, growing more insatiable with time.
And at the peak of that thirst, it was always the man before him who came to mind.
Trying to endure it left him sleepless, his physical strength draining from what felt like withdrawal symptoms.
And now, standing face-to-face with the man, his whole body surged with heat, and the desires in his mind began to overflow.
The man, watching Jae-woo with hazy, unfocused eyes that looked ready to lose all clarity, calmly swept his gaze down and up, as if taking in the sight. Then, he extended a hand.
The moment Jae-woo saw it, he lost all control, grabbing it with both hands like someone possessed.
But the man didn’t guide him. All he had done was offer his hand.
With clouded eyes, completely devoid of reason, Jae-woo clung to the man’s hand and murmured,
“G-Guiding… Guiding… Please, guide me…”
The man’s gaze curved ominously as he looked down at Jae-woo.
“You want my Guiding that badly?”
At his question, Jae-woo nodded frantically.
“Yes, please. I-I can’t take other people’s Guiding. It makes my skin crawl. I need your Guiding, Woo-chan hyung. Please… I feel like I’m going to die…”
Jae-woo looked far from sane—his frantic eyes and desperate expression spoke of someone on the verge of collapse.
The moment he came face-to-face with Kang Woo-chan, he seemed to fall apart in an instant.
Woo-chan’s eyes, still smiling, began to turn a vivid red.
Jae-woo’s face lit up with joy as he saw it.
Finally, I can be guided.
That thought alone consumed his entire mind.
“If I guide you,” Woo-chan asked, “what will you give me in return?”
“Anything. I’ll do anything.”
Jae-woo answered without hesitation, like someone under hypnosis. Woo-chan let out a cheerful, satisfied laugh.
“Then will you be my hostage to lure out Cha Han-gyeom?”
Jae-woo’s eyes flickered for a moment.
Cha Han-gyeom.
That name—his name—rattled the last vestige of Jae-woo’s rationality.
Even in his broken mind, where only Kang Woo-chan’s Guiding existed, Han-gyeom’s name echoed in the corner of his thoughts.
Jae-woo couldn’t bring himself to answer right away.
Woo-chan narrowed his eyes, then let a small stream of GP flow through their clasped hands.
“Ah!”
The blissful rush of GP sent Jae-woo’s body jolting violently.
It was like the teasing graze of a perfectly manicured fingernail sliding down his spine—a tingly sensation that danced along his nerves.
But the moment he tasted it, the sensation vanished.
That fleeting touch left behind an unbearable thirst, one that eclipsed all anticipation.
“More… more…!”
“If you do as I say, I’ll give you as much Guiding as you want.”
“Ah…”
Jae-woo faltered.
Woo-chan leaned in and whispered in a low, intimate voice.
“I’m the only one who can guide you now. Not Cha Han-gyeom.”
His eyes said it clearly—You know this already, don’t you?
And as Jae-woo met that gaze, the tremble in his eyes slowly faded into a dazed haze.
The only Guiding that could quench his thirst was right in front of him.
Could any Esper truly resist that?
Woo-chan, well aware of the answer, could only let out a quiet, mocking laugh.
