Seo Won’s chilling voice was so sharp that even Jung Ah-young, who had been following behind, found herself tightening her grip on her composure.
Han-gyeom couldn’t immediately respond to Seo Won’s reaction. His lips moved slightly, but no sound came out.
He knew all too well what emotion Seo Won was displaying right now.
Jealousy—stemming from the possessiveness Espers often feel toward their Guides.
It was practically instinctual for Espers.
And with the Imprint, Seo Won’s emotions toward his Guide were even more hypersensitive.
Han-gyeom had spent countless days being dragged through the dirt while caught between dozens of Espers. He had witnessed them fighting over him more times than he could count.
Whether it was simply because he was the only Guide capable of guiding them, or because of some form of affection—or something that resembled it—he didn’t know. Regardless, their fights had often turned terrifying.
On particularly brutal days, someone always ended up either dead or permanently maimed by another test subject.
Anyone caught in the crossfire, save for the Espers themselves, was inevitably dragged into the intensive lab. The ones who came back from that place were left crawling on the floor, pallid and broken.
Even then, they would wail, begging him to guide them, looking every bit like madmen on the verge of death.
Han-gyeom had known for a long time.
Why he was the only Guide at the Fourth Ability Analysis Research Facility.
An Esper’s power fluctuated wildly depending on their mental state and emotional condition—for better or worse.
But those explosive surges of power? They usually occurred when a single emotion reached its breaking point.
The researchers wanted to use him to draw out every possible feeling from the Espers—jealousy, possessiveness, and everything in between.
From that angle, they truly were cunning to the bone.
After all, nothing triggers extreme emotion in humans quite like competition.
Having spent so long as the prize in that endless contest, Han-gyeom could, if he wished, exploit Seo Won’s emotions with the same cold calculation as those researchers once had—just like he did with Song Yeon-woo.
But he couldn’t bring himself to do that to Seo Won. If he did, the blade of Seo Won’s emotion would inevitably end up pointing at Jae-woo.
Han-gyeom shook his head at Seo Won.
“It’s not like that.”
Swallowing his brief moment of inner conflict, Han-gyeom looked Seo Won squarely in the eyes.
“There’s probably an Ability User among the terrorists who messed with Jae-woo’s mind.”
Seo Won’s tense energy softened noticeably at Han-gyeom’s words.
“At first, I thought it was a mental-type Esper, but now I’m not so sure.”
“Then what?”
Seo Won refocused, falling into step once more as he absorbed Han-gyeom’s words. From behind him, Ah-young’s relieved exhale joined the rhythm of their steps.
Han-gyeom parted his lips to speak but paused. Instead of replying right away, he looked past Seo Won’s shoulder toward Ah-young. Their eyes met, and she blinked as if to ask, What’s wrong?
Han-gyeom broke eye contact with her and took a moment to gather his words before speaking.
“I checked Jae-woo’s body while he was unconscious, but there were no traces of ESP flowing into him anywhere. In other words, he wasn’t hypnotized or brainwashed through ESP.”
Before Jae-woo woke up, Han-gyeom had meticulously examined the internal channels of his body to assess his condition. During that process, he had already discovered the presence of a ‘fake Imprint’ carved into him, though he still hoped he had been mistaken.
This time, he had paid particular attention to Jae-woo’s brain, because when a mental-type Esper uses their ability, residual ESP is typically left inside the subject’s brain. That ESP would be vigorously manipulating the brain in order to follow the user’s commands.
But not only was there nothing in the brain—there were no signs of ESP infiltration anywhere in his entire body.
Which meant, just as the man who came with Song Jae-woo claimed, he was not under the influence of any mental-type ability.
“You can even tell something like that?”
Seo Won asked, and Han-gyeom turned his gaze away with a bitter look.
He wasn’t just some run-of-the-mill Guide who lightly soothed ESP channels and offered basic care. His hyper-attuned perception could detect even the tiniest foreign speck in a current, like a grain of sand. That unnatural level of sensitivity—and the forcibly implanted guiding sense—were what made it possible.
Internally, Seo Won was impressed by Han-gyeom’s ability. Truthfully, he had never not been impressed since the day they met. Before Han-gyeom, Seo Won had considered Guides as little more than rechargeable batteries for Espers—a belief shared by many, regardless of whether they possessed abilities or not.
Even though Han-gyeom didn’t answer, Seo Won could already tell what lay beyond his silence.
He didn’t press him for more. Instead, he quietly mulled over Han-gyeom’s earlier words.
“So the conclusion is, it wasn’t done by an Esper… but you’re sure there’s some ‘Ability User’ who messed him up.”
“…Yeah.”
Han-gyeom’s answer was firm, and after that, he said no more.
Before long, the group reached the door to Seo Won’s bedroom.
Seo Won guided Han-gyeom to sit on the edge of the bed and listened to a quick situational report from Ah-young. Since he’d already heard by phone about Jae-woo and the suspicious terrorist infiltrating the mansion together, he only needed an update on what happened afterward.
In short, while Jae-woo was unconscious, the mansion’s resident medical staff had examined him. Besides the minor injuries from being subdued, they found a few additional bruises, but none that clearly indicated abuse or torture.
However, they did note strange withdrawal-like symptoms: worsening complexion over time, twitching eyelids, and bloodshot sclera.
Han-gyeom had also examined Jae-woo, but until Seo Won arrived, he hadn’t said much even to Ah-young. He had simply stared at Jae-woo’s face with a dark, unreadable expression.
Then, Jae-woo suddenly regained consciousness, grabbed Han-gyeom, and began lashing out emotionally—just like before. That was when Seo Won had returned.
After the brief report, Seo Won shot Ah-young a cold glare. If she had just restrained Jae-woo earlier, that room wouldn’t have ended up in such a wreck. Han-gyeom might not have been left trembling, either.
But even so, he didn’t scold her.
She probably couldn’t bring herself to tie up someone who was practically family to Han-gyeom—especially not right in front of him.
Seo Won sent Ah-young away, who was now anxiously watching for his reaction, and closed the door behind her.
“Do you think the ‘Ability User’ you suspect might be a Guide?”
As he asked the question and turned around, he saw Han-gyeom’s complexion was noticeably pale.
“One… that’s like you.”
Han-gyeom lowered his trembling gaze and bit his lip.
He couldn’t speak while Ah-young was in the room.
If his suspicion was correct, then the one who tampered with Song Jae-woo using a ‘fake Imprint’ had to be a product of a different research facility.
Ah-young was strong, reliable, and brave—but at the end of the day, she was still a regular civilian in her early twenties, young and pure. Han-gyeom didn’t want her to learn about the depravity that went on in those research facilities.
But with Seo Won—he could talk. If there was anyone who knew him well enough, it was him.
“It’s probably a Guide who was experimented on at another facility. I’ve heard about a similar kind of ability before.”
Han-gyeom pressed a warm hand to his forehead. Whenever he was gripped by extreme anxiety or became overly tense, his body would always go cold, yet his head would heat up—often leading to headaches.
Seo Won gently pulled Han-gyeom’s hand away and placed his own hand on his forehead instead.
“Keep going.”
He sat beside him and wrapped an arm around Han-gyeom’s waist, pulling him in close.
Seo Won’s solid body provided firm support, and the cool touch of his hand resting on Han-gyeom’s hot forehead helped bring his temperature back into balance. Before he knew it, Han-gyeom found a strange sense of comfort in Seo Won’s scent and warmth.
“There was a Guide at the First Ability Analysis Research Facility who could implant ‘fake Imprints.’ I only heard the rumor recently, and the place got shut down soon after for unknown reasons, so that’s all I know.”
Seo Won’s hand, still resting on Han-gyeom’s forehead, twitched ever so slightly.
“I see. So that’s…”
“You know something, don’t you?”
Han-gyeom quickly looked up, searching Seo Won’s expression.
But Seo Won didn’t seem particularly shocked. Even though what Han-gyeom had just said meant that the person who messed with Jae-woo—a Guide with an absurd ability like a ‘fake Imprint’—came from the same kind of facility he himself had once belonged to.
Han-gyeom looked flustered, but Seo Won didn’t offer a clear answer.
“There’s something I need to check. I’ll tell you once I’ve confirmed it.”
The truth was, Seo Won already had a strong suspicion about who that Guide was.
Kang Woo-chan.
The man who appeared to be the leader of the terrorist group was undoubtedly a Guide. A Guide with a special ability powerful enough to make even the most formidable Espers kneel before him.
But he still didn’t have enough information.
To completely crush Kang Woo-chan—to the point where he’d never even think about laying a finger on Han-gyeom again—Seo Won needed to know exactly who that man was.
Especially since he was dangerous enough to bypass Seo Won’s own abilities with ease.
Seo Won thought of Cha Min-hyung, an S-rank Guide in the Association and, like Han-gyeom, a former subject of the Ability Analysis Research Facility.
If it’s him, he’ll definitely have the intel I need.
Seo Won gently stroked Han-gyeom’s anxious face.
“You just need to sit still and wait.”
Han-gyeom slowly nodded, his face tense with worry.
He knew—especially in a situation like this—there was nothing he could do to dig deeper on his own.
If he pushed recklessly, the Esper Association might catch on and start making moves. That was the one thing he absolutely had to avoid. For now, he had no choice but to rely on Seo Won.
Considering Seo Won’s deep ties with the Association, it might even make the search for information easier.
Seo Won looked at Han-gyeom, so obedient and composed, and smiled faintly.
With how anxious he looked, one might expect him to start demanding answers or lashing out. But seeing him so compliant, so well-behaved—it was utterly endearing.
The hand that had been brushing against Han-gyeom’s cheek drifted down to his lips.
“Cha Han-gyeom.”
His soft, flushed lips parted slightly, as if to welcome the finger that now touched them.
Even so, his gaze never wavered, fixed firmly on Seo Won.
“You said you checked Song Jae-woo’s body… Does that mean you guided him?”
Seo Won’s face inched closer, and the finger pressed against Han-gyeom’s lips gently rubbed along the skin.
“I don’t remember ever giving you permission to guide anyone but me.”
