These days, there were all kinds of new cult recruitment methods going around. One rumor said they approached like regular people and tried to convert you. Ho-eun couldn’t help but wonder if he’d fallen for one of those schemes.
But the man leaning against the black sedan didn’t look like some suspicious cultist. He had a clean-cut appearance and a well-proportioned frame—anyone could see he was far from shady.
‘Yeah, there’s no way someone with a face like that is a scammer.’
The man, whose very face exuded trustworthiness, approached Ho-eun, who was frozen in place.
“Mr. Kwon Ho-eun? Please, get in. We can talk on the way.”
“……”
‘Mom always said not to follow strangers…’
His parents’ intense gaze stabbed into his back from a distance.
If he backed out now, things would only get messier. Still full of doubt, Ho-eun reluctantly moved toward the car. But before getting in, he muttered low enough for only the man to hear that if anything weird happened, he’d show off the self-defense moves he learned in elementary school. For some reason, he felt like the man’s lips curved slightly upward.
“……”
Once seated, the man sat right next to him and began flipping through some documents, the soft rustle audible in the confined space. Ho-eun, still wary, peeked at the papers—and immediately let out a silent scream when he recognized his own resume.
“Give it here!”
“?”
Why was he holding that embarrassing excuse of a self-introduction? Hadn’t he just fired off resumes to whoever would take them? Looks like the Guide Corporation must’ve been on that list.
‘Ugh… I must’ve sent it in bulk without even checking.’
The man didn’t seem particularly attached to the resume Ho-eun snatched back. Without a word, he simply turned his attention to the results of some sort of hiring medical checkup.
“Mr. Ho-eun, do you know what a Guide is?”
He asked the question with a friendly smile. Just as Ho-eun was about to respond, a loud thud rumbled from outside.
“!!”
That occasional, massive noise and the vibrations that followed.
The world had long since been forced to accept a new kind of humanity—those with mutation abilities. People had discovered beings with surreal, almost unbelievable powers. These were humans born with what was termed “variant abilities,” later named “Espers.”
The noise they just heard surely came from an Esper. These beings possessed powers far beyond human capability—manipulating fire, water, wind, performing miraculous healing, displaying immense strength, or psychic abilities.
In South Korea, Espers didn’t stand out too much, but it was said they often acted in service of ordinary, non-powered people—saving lives, responding to natural disasters, and the like.
There weren’t many Espers in the world, and using their abilities drained their life force. The only ones who could heal and restore that vital energy were Guides.
“Aren’t Guides like, I don’t know… Espers’ soulmates or something?”
The man’s lips twitched at Ho-eun’s answer.
‘Was that wrong…?’
It was hard to define what exactly Guides were. They were known to work with Espers, but in media with Esper characters, Guides were usually sidekicks—or love interests. All he really remembered was that the two were inevitably paired together.
Back in middle school, there was a required subject called “Understanding Variant Abilities,” but he’d been too young to retain much. And unlike Espers, Guides rarely appeared in the media. Naturally, public interest was almost nonexistent.
When the news covered incidents involving Espers, it was rare for a Guide to even be shown on-site. The Guide Corporation, the official institution for them in Korea, was widely regarded as a waste of taxpayers’ money.
“Did I say something wrong?”
“Pfft—no, not at all. I just found your answer amusing. Soulmates, huh.”
The man couldn’t hold back his laughter, shaking with mirth. Ho-eun sulked, pouting his lips.
‘How could he laugh so shamelessly like that…’
“I hope you become a Guide and end up as an Esper’s soulmate.”
“Excuse me? Well, if I pass the interview, I guess I’ll consider it.”
“You’ll pass.”
“?”
“If you weren’t a Guide, you wouldn’t have been allowed in this car.”
Ho-eun didn’t understand what the man meant. Quietly, he pulled out his phone from his pocket and scrolled through his unread messages. Buried under a pile of rejection notifications, there was a single message of acceptance.
[Web Message – Congratulations on passing the first round for the 201x Management Support Team recruitment… (Read more)]
‘I was raised by a loving mother and a stern but responsible father…’ That crappy resume actually got accepted?
And this wasn’t some small company that skimmed resumes—it was a public institution.
‘Can a government organization really get away with hiring people this randomly? Shouldn’t they filter out the unqualified ones during the resume screening?’
Shaking his head in disbelief, Ho-eun still had to accept that he was on his way to an interview.
“Paul, let’s get moving.”
The man spoke gently to the driver.
The car veered into a quiet backstreet where no one was walking.
The view outside the window, shifting up and down like a boat drifting at sea, did little to calm his nerves.
“Ugh…!”
Suddenly, nausea surged up from his stomach, and a ringing began to echo in his ears. A pounding headache followed, and Ho-eun clutched his head, nearly gagging as if he might leap out of the car at any second. The man gently patted his back and handed over a bottle of water.
“Try not to puke. It’s a pain to clean up.”
“That’s what you’re worried about?!”
If the car had shaken even a bit more, Ho-eun would’ve definitely thrown up. As soon as the trembling stopped, the man calmly got out of the car and opened the door for him.
The fresh air that poured in helped settle his stomach, but now his mind was in chaos.
‘That was just an alleyway a moment ago—where the hell are we now?’
Looking around, he realized they’d arrived somewhere completely unfamiliar. The two men didn’t seem fazed at all, making him feel like he was the only one out of the loop.
The moment he spotted the building name—Guide Corporation—a chill ran down his spine.
‘Those guys were Espers?!’
They’d teleported. That man called Paul must’ve been a teleportation Esper.
How many people ever get to experience teleportation in their lives? Sure, Espers are common in webtoons, dramas, and movies—but those were all fake.
In reality, running into an Esper was probably about as likely as winning the lottery.
Stumbling out of the car and toward the driver’s seat, he found it empty. No one was there.
‘Where’d he disappear to? Did he teleport again?’
At this point, it seemed wiser to stop trying to make sense of anything. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he recalled the government-mandated education that Espers weren’t allowed to use their powers without permission—but clearly, that wasn’t how things worked in practice.
The man snapped his fingers in front of the dazed Ho-eun, like he was trying to jolt him awake, and began a straightforward explanation.
“My job is to find and protect people who are compatible as partners for Espers—that is, Guides. Espers have incredible powers, but without a Guide, they’re basically like mayflies.”
“Then what exactly does a Guide do?”
“Primarily, they provide care for Espers. Even that splits into desk jobs and fieldwork. Since I’ve done my part, you can direct the rest of your questions to the interviewers.”
“W-Wait a second. I don’t—I don’t get any of this…”
“No problem~ You don’t have to.”
“Haa…”
***
The man led Ho-eun into the large building and up to the second floor. There, five doors lined the hallway, each labeled with a position—things like Intern (Field Experience), Management Support, and Accounting—likely roles listed in the job posting. In front of each door were chairs for applicants to wait.
“All the other candidates have already finished their interviews. We couldn’t get in touch with you at all, Mr. Kwon, so we had to come fetch you ourselves. You’re about a day late.”
“Right…”
‘Don’t they usually just reject you if you no-show an interview?’
Still, since they said he needed to go through with it, Ho-eun quietly took a seat and waited. Now that he had some time to think, a critical realization dawned on him.
This was an interview.
His stomach lurched all over again.
Despite his neatly pressed black suit and glossy shoes, his light brown-tinted hair looked completely out of place in this setting. His sharply upturned eyes darted around restlessly.
The gleaming marble walls and spotless floors could rival any luxury hotel—possibly even surpass it.
The man scratched at his neck as if his tie were choking him, looking anything but relaxed.
And it was no surprise.
If there were an award for the person who least belonged in an interview room right now, Ho-eun would’ve accepted it without hesitation.
“I don’t want a job. I want to stay unemployed just a little longer—or focus on YouTube!”
Even if it meant putting up with his parents’ constant nagging not to be a parasite, he wanted just a bit more time living the jobless life.
‘I’m going to be working for the rest of my life—what’s wrong with being unemployed for a while? Why can’t I just try the things I’ve always wanted to?’
He wanted to argue this point to his parents, but he lacked the courage. So he’d only ever said it to his reflection in the mirror.
Memories of the past few months flashed before him like a montage.
Waking up a bit early for a jog lined up perfectly with the start of a morning drama. Eating breakfast while watching its ridiculous plot unfold, then taking a nap just as he finished digesting. Later, scrolling on his phone until the whole day had slipped away.
His daily life left him feeling two conflicting emotions: the depressive guilt of doing nothing, and the comforting freedom of not needing to do anything.
Not that every day was spent being useless.
Ho-eun had started a YouTube channel—a dream he’d held since he was young. He’d always had a big appetite, so he thought if he ran with a mukbang concept, he’d hit a million subscribers in no time.
But his brave first uploads didn’t attract many viewers. Even after a year, he barely had a few hundred subscribers. Still, Ho-eun didn’t give up. He wanted to succeed on YouTube so he could keep living this life.
But now…
“A job… seriously?”
Outside the blanket was danger. No—being a working adult instead of a free-roaming bum was danger. Ho-eun wasn’t ready. He wasn’t a “prepared candidate.”
“Maybe I really should just back out—”
The nerves of his very first interview began creeping in fast.
He definitely had an interest in Espers. After all, people with supernatural powers were idols to children. While Espers barely had any presence in Korea, in the United States, they were so popular that national Espers even had official fan clubs.
‘If I’d awakened as an Esper instead, maybe I wouldn’t hate this so much.’
Useless thoughts drifted through his mind.
Guides, unlike Espers, didn’t feel like superpowered beings. They felt… ordinary. Because of that, the current situation felt less like something extraordinary and more like a regular job interview at a typical company.
Ho-eun recalled the one-minute self-introduction he had slapped together in a college general education class. It had been last-minute cramming, nothing more.
Now, with nothing properly prepared, part of him hoped he’d just fail the interview and be done with it. But the other part—the one burdened with guilt and responsibility—pushed him to hurriedly start preparing at the last minute.
“Hello. I’m Kwon Ho-eun, your happy-virus applicant. Among all viruses, the happy-virus is…”
Click, clack. The sharp sound of heels echoed as people walked by. Their crisp office attire caught his eye—especially the employee ID badges clipped to their chests.
Ho-eun couldn’t look away from the badges.
His friends who had already started working all posted selfies wearing their badges. An ID badge meant you belonged to that company.
‘That kind of belonging… something I’ll never understand.’
The familiar weight of defeat welled up in his chest again, something that struck several times a day. Life as a jobless adult was fun, yes—but that didn’t mean it was free from anxiety.
Wearing a stiff, uncomfortable suit, Ho-eun was nearing his limit. Just as he was about to run from the interview room, the door that had seemed locked shut suddenly opened before him.
He’d assumed no one was inside since he hadn’t heard a single sound. Surely, the interviewers weren’t here yet. But now, he stood up.
“Phew.”
Despite thinking he didn’t want to escape the world of unemployment, Ho-eun adjusted his tie.
