A helicopter descended onto the rooftop where Kwon Ho-eun lay unconscious. An Esper with healing abilities, having landed with Hosoo, rushed down the emergency stairwell and arrived at their location.
Do In-ho stood in a space thick with swirling black ash, holding Ho-eun in his arms, glaring at Hosoo. His yellow eyes glowed with a disturbing intensity, wary and defensive—as if guarding prey from a thief.
“Put Kwon Ho-eun down. Now. If you try guiding with him like that, you could kill him.”
Even at Hosoo’s warning, Do In-ho didn’t budge an inch. A razor-thin tension coiled around them like a taut rope, seconds from snapping.
That bastard’s totally lost it.
Hosoo took stock of the tranquilizer gun strapped to his waist, then refocused on Do In-ho. But suddenly, only Kwon Ho-eun remained lying motionless on the ground—the rest was empty.
“I won’t let you take him from me this time.”
A chilling voice spoke from right beside him. When did he—? Do In-ho’s movements had been so fast, not even his footsteps were heard. Hosoo swallowed slowly, preparing to grab the tranquilizer gun at his side—
BANG!
The shot wasn’t from him.
A tranquilizer dart flew in from somewhere off-screen, striking Do In-ho and dropping him instantly.
“Saved your life again, huh?”
Hosoo turned to see a silver-haired man holding a tranquilizer gun and throwing a wink his way.
“Baek Woo-gyeong.”
“You even look pretty when you’re surprised, Team Lead.”
Hosoo’s brow wrinkled in deep irritation. Running into Baek Woo-gyeong here, of all places, was far from welcome.
He wanted nothing more than to rip out that mocking tongue, but he had to admit—if Baek hadn’t fired, he might have ended up as Do In-ho’s next victim.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“Well, normally, people start with a thank you. Cold city guy to the end.”
“I’m freezing here!”
Baek Woo-gyeong, whose shoulder width looked like it could launch a person, hugged himself and shivered dramatically, but Hosoo ignored him completely.
“Ahem. Why would the Chairman of the Guide Corporation be here, you think?”
Approaching slowly, Baek Woo-gyeong slapped the back of the standby healing-type Esper, then gestured with his chin toward the unconscious Ho-eun. The healer hurried to his side.
When Hosoo didn’t respond, Baek kept grinning and went on.
“Work, of course.”
“What exactly can you do here?”
“What else? Everyone signed off on Do In-ho’s overload. Shield Espers are stationed outside. But now the overload’s been delayed.”
Baek stepped on Do In-ho’s head with his boot.
“So I ordered the building to be blown up. That got delayed, too.”
He pressed down harder, and the floor beneath Do In-ho’s head cracked with the force.
“You know why? They said they couldn’t detonate because an S-Class Guide was near the building.”
“……”
Hosoo shoved Baek Woo-gyeong in the chest. Baek wasn’t someone who’d budge easily from a Guide’s strength, but he took two steps back without resistance.
“Do you realize you almost got caught in an overload? What, scared you’d die?”
“If I died, you’d have just brought me back.”
“Knowing that, why keep hovering around him?”
“Because I had a backup plan.”
“What?”
“That Guide lying over there—his resonance rate with Do In-ho is 90%. So I changed my mind.”
“Sigh… Why do you bother thinking with that tiny brain when I already told you to leave it to me?”
Baek looked at him with a deceptively sweet smile.
That smiling face had always unsettled Hosoo. He wanted to cut ties with Baek Woo-gyeong. Like the saying goes, avoid stepping in shit not because it’s dangerous, but because it’s filthy—he wanted to cut this foul connection and fly freely like a kite. But he couldn’t. No matter how far he ran, no matter how many times he tried to end it, it was useless.
A Guide can’t kill an Esper.
Escaping Baek Woo-gyeong’s shadow was impossible. Which meant he’d have to step in that filth and get dirty himself.
“I decided I’m not the one who’s dying. You are.”
Hosoo grabbed Baek Woo-gyeong by the collar and yanked him forward. His voice was low, sharp as frost.
“I’ll tear you apart so you can’t use your ability again.”
“If I die, you die too, Team Lead.”
“That’s exactly what I want.”
The wind blew. Hosoo’s silky golden hair fluttered like it might dissolve into air. Like a lunar eclipse, his eyes darkened, stained with blood-red hues. Baek Woo-gyeong let out a shuddering moan of delight.
“Ahh… So we die together? How romantic.”
“……”
“Such a hopeless romantic. Sometimes I think you’re more of a drama queen than I am.”
Baek twisted his body like he was embarrassed.
“But still, Team Lead, I can’t just let today slide.”
He placed both hands over Hosoo’s, still gripping his collar. A wave of sweet guiding flowed into Baek’s body. It was always lovely—of course it was. Hosoo and Baek Woo-gyeong had a 100% resonance match.
“There’ll be consequences for today. Bad boys need punishment, after all.”
Hosoo yanked his hands away irritably. As Baek puckered his lips and leaned in, Hosoo swiftly pulled his tranquilizer from his belt.
Bang!
No hesitation. Baek hadn’t expected him to actually shoot. He collapsed to the ground instantly, limp.
Hosoo brushed his hands off like they were dirty, then walked over to the healer working on Ho-eun.
“What’s the situation?”
“His ribs are fractured, but fortunately none of them pierced his lungs. There was a lot of blood on his face, but it looks like only the upper scalp is torn. The rest are just bruises—it won’t take long to treat.”
“Considering he clashed with an anti-government Esper, it could’ve been a lot worse.”
Tough body, that one. Hosoo exhaled slowly, looking down at Ho-eun peacefully asleep.
He could handle an Esper dying—but a Guide? That, he couldn’t bear.
He crouched and gently brushed back Ho-eun’s blood-soaked bangs.
“You did well hanging on.”
Hosoo could never forget the moment he heard the Blue Flame ability implantation had succeeded. A fire-type Esper ability that could reduce everything to ashes without leaving a trace. The most destructive among its kind.
He’d believed that with an Ability Product made from such a crystal, he could kill an Esper instantly.
To Hosoo, Do In-ho was a tool—something to use to kill Baek Woo-gyeong. A single ray of hope granted by the heavens to someone as pitiful as himself.
He’d waited ten years. Since the moment Do In-ho had the ability implanted. Waiting for the day he would overload and die, leaving behind a crystal.
“I won’t let you take him this time.”
Even as he could barely stand, Do In-ho had lunged at Hosoo and said that. And in his desperation, Hosoo saw himself reflected.
“Don’t steal from me.”
He murmured, half in resignation.
“My freedom… which can only be completed in death.”
Hosoo decided to give up retrieving the Ability Core from Do In-ho. He’d wanted to use that Ability Product to personally kill Baek Woo-gyeong—but using someone else’s hand wouldn’t be so bad either.
Had he been swayed by the ideals of the man lying unconscious before him? Or had he simply never been able to see Do In-ho as just a tool?
As he gently tidied Ho-eun’s sweat- and blood-matted hair, Hosoo looked up.
Beyond the shattered window, morning was breaking.
***
“…I’m hungry.”
Kwon Ho-eun mumbled his usual morning complaint as he opened his eyes. An unfamiliar ceiling greeted him. The sterile scent of alcohol tickled his nose.
Turning his head, he saw a heart monitor. On the windowsill, fresh flowers sat in a vase, bathed in sunlight.
Was my room always decorated like this?
Ho-eun twisted his heavy body and slowly sat halfway up in bed. Looking around in disbelief, he murmured,
“…A hospital?”
He’d never been hospitalized in his life. The whole environment felt alien.
He tugged out the IV, patted himself down, then cautiously stepped out of bed—and immediately began doing jumping jacks.
Three sets in, his body felt completely fine. Ho-eun frowned in confusion. Why am I even here?
Thud.
Just then, the door opened, and a worn-out looking Do In-ho stepped inside—and dropped the flowers he was holding.
Ho-eun, relieved to see In-ho alive and well, opened his mouth to greet him.
But before he could—
Something slid down Do In-ho’s cheek. At first, Ho-eun thought it was just dirt. But then another drop came, faster this time—and he realized it was a tear.
In-ho seemed unaware he was crying. Still wearing a look of disbelief, he approached and gently pulled Ho-eun into a hug.
“You took so long to wake up… I was so scared… I was terrified.”
Do In-ho, saying he was worried?
Crying—for me?
Ho-eun’s thoughts short-circuited. The emotionless Do In-ho was… worried about him?
Waking up in a hospital was shocking enough, but enough to cry over?
Unable to keep up with In-ho’s emotional pace, Ho-eun awkwardly raised his arms and patted him on the back.
“I’m fine!”
Wait… Is this because of the kiss?
Ho-eun’s last memory was kissing In-ho during a direct guiding attempt. He remembered trying to stop the overload with that kiss—but nothing afterward. That uncertainty made him uneasy.
Did something else happen after that?
Something more intense?
Had things escalated to the point where In-ho now cried at the sight of him?
Ho-eun’s head started to spin. Just as guilt crept in—had he stolen this pure boy’s heart?—a shaky voice broke through.
“I waited… a whole month…”
“Huh? Wait—what? A month?!”
“You were unconscious for a month.”
“…!”
Ho-eun froze.
Now that he thought about it, he had been struggling to walk, had even needed help with an umbrella. He’d inhaled a lot of smoke. His uninjured body had made him forget he’d ever been hurt.
But if someone had come to save him, and ended up in a coma for a month?
He’d cry too.
“In-ho… are you okay?”
Ho-eun gently wiped the tear-streaked cheek and looked into In-ho’s yellow, teary eyes. Even with red-rimmed lids, the man was devastatingly handsome.
Do In-ho nodded silently and hugged Ho-eun tighter, like a child. It was unexpected, even strange—but after a month of fear and uncertainty, Ho-eun could understand where he was coming from.
Just like I wanted to save you, you must’ve been wishing I’d open my eyes.
He’d promised to take responsibility before he lost consciousness. And now here he was—falling apart.
With his face pressed against In-ho’s shoulder, Ho-eun whispered,
“…Sorry for waking up so late.”
“…I—I’m the one who should be sorry for not protecting you.”
“No, really… I’m more sorry.”
As the two exchanged apologies, the door suddenly opened—and a familiar voice rang out.
“You idiots. If anyone should be apologizing, it’s to me.”
