The modern classic wooden house—painted in gray and black—felt oddly mismatched with the man who lived there: Hosoo.
“Assistant Manager…?”
The old-fashioned front door, unlike a modern electronic one, opened smoothly when Ho-eun turned the handle.
Inside, the decor was a stark contrast to the subdued exterior: crisp whites and shimmering gold accents gave the interior the feel of an upscale café rather than a private residence. An ivory-toned L-shaped sofa sat in front of a marble coffee table.
Standing by the large window, holding a mug in one hand, Hosoo looked like something out of a high-fashion magazine shoot.
Why is he striking a pose like that after calling someone over?
Bathed in warm sunlight, Hosoo finally turned his head, his smile soft and whipped-cream sweet.
“Did you have a good first night together?”
“What? No, wait—are you insane?! He’s a kid! I would never—I mean, we didn’t do anything!”
“Huh? I was just asking if you slept well.”
“Uh—no—I mean, yes! I did, I slept fine.”
Ho-eun’s face turned crimson, like a perfectly ripe apple. Flustered, he kicked off his shoes and plopped down on the sofa. His heart was pounding thanks to Hosoo’s teasing.
“You said this was a personal consultation…”
“We’re in the middle of it. Guess you didn’t read the team Guide manual properly, huh?”
“…Are you talking about the last section?”
“You actually read it?”
Hosoo set down his mug and took a seat two spots away from Ho-eun.
“What do you think is the most important duty of a team Guide?”
“Uh… well… since it’s a field role, I’d say caring for Espers on site…”
“That’s important, sure. But why do you think you’re required to live in the same dorm?”
“Huh?”
Seeing Ho-eun tense up with unease, Hosoo raised both hands. He curled his thumb and index finger of his left hand into a circle, then folded all but the index finger of his right. The right index finger moved toward the circle in the left hand.
“W-What are you doing?!”
Startled, Ho-eun reached out and grabbed Hosoo’s hands.
“You’re seriously twenty-five?”
“What does age have to do with it?!”
“I mean, that reaction’s hilarious. Anyway, that was a joke. Let me explain what your duties will be as a team Guide from now on. Ask anything you’ve been curious about while working so far.”
Ho-eun lowered his hands. He glared at Hosoo with a side-eye, suspicious of another weird hand gesture, but when it didn’t come, he let out a quiet sigh.
“Oh, and if you ever want to know how to do deep Guiding, I’ve got decades of experience—”
As Hosoo made another move with his hands, Ho-eun smacked them away, yelling, “I said I’m good!” Hosoo chuckled, raising his hands in surrender and continuing the conversation.
“You know that once you become a full-time Guide, you have to choose between a desk job and a field job, right?”
“Yes.”
“Desk job if you want a comfy life. Field job if you want money. That’s usually how people choose.”
“I’m in the field, right?”
“Team Guides count as field workers. You need to accompany Espers on missions, after all.”
So far, everything was consistent with what Ho-eun already knew.
“Desk Guides are split into two types—those who do direct Guiding and those who perform broadcast Guiding. Direct Guiders are assigned to treatment centers within the Esper Corporation. They perform one-on-one Guiding but don’t go into the field.”
“Oh…”
“And broadcast Guiders work here at the Guide Corporation and perform remote Guiding.”
“Does broadcast Guiding even matter if there are no Espers around?”
“Remember that Guiding supplement Do In-ho took before? The Guide Corporation developed the technology to store real Guiding sessions and reproduce them. So desk Guides can just come to the office and go about their day like a regular desk job.”
Ho-eun pulled out his phone and began jotting down notes from what Hosoo was saying.
“Field Guides have to do both direct and broadcast Guiding. And even among them, the level of direct Guiding expected is much higher than what desk Guides deal with.”
“Level?”
“The more physical contact, the higher the Guiding percentage goes. Most teams are one Guide to three Espers, right? Broadcast Guiding or holding hands won’t cut it. So we use faster, more effective methods.”
Even without hearing the rest, Ho-eun could guess what he meant. He fanned his flushed face with his hand, trying to cool down the heat rising to his cheeks.
“For now, In-ho doesn’t have any field assignments since he’s busy with PR this week. But in the future, you’ll have to hit at least 70% before any mission.”
“…I’ll manage. I have to.”
When he woke up in that hospital room and saw Do In-ho alive, he’d felt such overwhelming relief. What had started as an attempt to stop In-ho’s Ability Overload had turned into real success—and that gave Ho-eun both comfort and fear.
If he hadn’t taken the enhancer, would I have been able to stop him on my own?
That lingering doubt was confirmed this morning when the Guiding percentage barely budged.
“Kwon Ho-eun. If I said something, would you believe me? Do you trust me?”
Hosoo’s sudden question caught him completely off guard. Ho-eun hesitated, unsure how to answer. His opinion of Hosoo wasn’t exactly glowing. On the outside, he might’ve looked like a perfect apple, but on the inside? Rotten to the core.
The Hosoo he knew was an elitist who saw Espers’ lives as expendable. Not to mention, his personality was garbage… All negatives, really. And yet—
“I should. If it weren’t for you, In-ho wouldn’t have survived.”
If he’d been alone that day, he would’ve never made it to the site. It was only because Hosoo—who knew everything—had turned a blind eye, just once. He chose to believe in that single act of mercy. Hosoo may have been willing to kill Do In-ho, but maybe he also wanted to save him. Whatever Hosoo’s real motives were, Ho-eun decided to see it that way.
“The mission to extract In-ho’s Crystal has been halted. For now.”
At Hosoo’s words, the tension in Ho-eun’s face eased ever so slightly.
“Though I wouldn’t celebrate just yet.”
“What do you mean…?”
“Sure, we’ve paused the operation. But In-ho could still Overload at any time. And there are plenty of people out there who want his Crystal.”
“What?”
“I told you before—there are two types of Ability Products: ones where an Esper infuses their power into an item, and ones made from Crystals. The first kind needs Guiding, but the second doesn’t. Everyone wants the second type. But Crystal implantation is rarely successful, so mass production isn’t realistic.”
“…Then.”
“Exactly. To people who want Crystal-based Ability Products, In-ho is the ultimate prize.”
“……”
“Of course, turning a Crystal into an Ability Product isn’t easy either, so most regular folks wouldn’t stand a chance. But for technicians who can? He’s a dream target.”
Hosoo licked his lower lip slowly, grinning slyly.
“To protect In-ho from the hyenas waiting for him to Overload, you’ll have to Guide him well, won’t you?”
In a blink, Hosoo closed the distance between them.
He traced the curve of Ho-eun’s flushed cheek, glided down his face like a dancer, brushed past his neck and collarbone, and then grabbed his shoulder, pushing him down onto the sofa.
Ho-eun’s mind couldn’t process what was happening. It was like his brain short-circuited. He only realized a beat too late that Hosoo’s hand was unbuttoning his shirt and skimming over his bare skin.
“…!”
“Not sure what’s making you worry about whether you can stop In-ho’s Overload or not, but if you want more practice, I could offer some very… personal coaching.”
“W-Wait—get off!”
Startled, Ho-eun tried to squirm away from the man now straddling him. Judging by size alone, he should’ve had the advantage, but no matter how much he pushed or struggled, Hosoo didn’t budge.
He barely managed to grab Hosoo’s wrist with both hands as it roamed over his bare chest, and stammered out a protest.
“No, seriously—this is—I mean, I kinda already know what I need to do, so really, Assistant Manager—”
It felt like something was about to happen, and Ho-eun’s head was spinning. Hosoo’s pale pink eyes, up close, were so mesmerizingly unreal that Ho-eun forgot to breathe, just staring in a daze.
Finally snapping out of it, he decided that if worse came to worst, he’d just roll off the sofa and hit the floor. But then Hosoo lightly flicked his cheek with a finger and laughed.
“Are you a virgin or something? Look at you, all flustered.”
Once he realized it had all been a joke, Ho-eun shoved Hosoo away with more force.
“I’m reporting you for sexual harassment!” he shouted, red-faced. Hosoo just snorted.
“Kids these days can’t even take a joke. Anyway—just make sure In-ho doesn’t Overload. I’ll be pissed if he loses that Crystal.”
“Who exactly wants it?”
“Oh, someone. The one I hate most in this world.”
The uncomfortable atmosphere vanished instantly with Hosoo’s change of subject. Ho-eun glared at him as he buttoned his shirt back up.
“You got something to say?”
It was obvious Hosoo was telling him to get going. Ho-eun fiddled with his company ID. He’d had a mountain of questions ready for this meeting, but his brain had been wiped blank by what just happened. Luckily, one question remained, thanks to the ID he wore around his neck.
“Is my rank really D?”
The new badge had his name, photo, and rank: D-class. From the moment he received it, he’d wondered why. After all, he’d managed to stop Do In-ho—a near Overload-level S-Class Esper.
Kim Se-hee once told him: the higher a Guide’s rank, the higher-ranked Espers they can match with. In-ho was S-Class, so shouldn’t his partner be the same? He had received Guiding from Hosoo, after all—an S-Class Guide.
“Yeah. You’re D-Class.”
“…”
“A D-Class Guide who can Guiding Do In-ho.”
“…What?”
“Even A-Class Guides can’t move for the rest of the day after Guiding him. That’s why I, as an S-Class, was the only one who handled him before.”
Hosoo recalled the results from Ho-eun’s past measurements. First scan: 108%. Second resonance rate with Do In-ho: 90%. His stamina had been high, too. With standard calculations, that should’ve put him at S-Class. But Hosoo had reported fake results.
“Guide Kwon Ho-eun is low-ranked, but his resonance rate with Do In-ho surpasses anyone else at the Corporation. If we play this right, we’ve essentially got an S-Class Esper paired with a Guide who can handle him. Of course, since he’s only D-Class, it’s unclear how long he can prevent an Overload—but let’s monitor it a little longer.”
Without so much as blinking, Hosoo had lied during the disciplinary meeting.
They all agreed—given the looming threat from anti-government Espers, there was no Esper stronger than Do In-ho. And everyone had picked up on the real message hidden in Hosoo’s proposal: since his Guide was a nobody, they could take the Crystal back anytime they wanted.
In reality, though, they intended to keep the two stabilized so that Overload would never happen.
