He didn’t know why he had to assume he might die, but his mind, ever practical, was already tapping at the calculator, estimating the compensation he’d receive if he did.
With a billion won, if he sold his current place and combined the money, he might actually be able to afford a house in Seoul.
They say nothing is more unfilial than a child dying before their parents, but humans are bound by fate—they never know when, where, or how they’ll die. If dying meant receiving a billion won, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.
Once his thoughts settled, his hand moved on its own. He wrote out his full name in the signature field. Just like that, with a single scribble on this scrap of paper, Ho-eun was now completely tied to the Guide Corporation.
Next was the will. He’d never written one before, so he had no idea what to say. Tapping a ballpoint pen on the desk, Ho-eun finally scribbled down five characters.
“I’m sorry.”
Right now, he couldn’t think of anything else. He figured they wouldn’t assign a life-threatening job to an intern right away anyway, so if he had to write it again later, he’d try to make it more sincere.
“One copy is for you to keep, Mr. Kwon Ho-eun.”
The two employment contracts were stacked together, stamped with the company seal and Ho-eun’s signature, and then split—one copy for each party. As the interviewer reached out into the air, the smooth floor rippled and a green vine shot up. It was his second time seeing this, so the strangeness didn’t faze him.
The vine coiled around the contract the interviewer was holding and pulled it down into the floor. Ho-eun thought that was the end of it—but then the writhing tendrils spit out a rectangular supply box.
The interviewer took the box and placed it on the desk. Opening the lid revealed a wristwatch and a round silver pendant necklace inside.
“This is a Guide Watch. It’s waterproof, so you can wear it in the shower, but feel free to take it off if you’d prefer. However, if you go without wearing it for over an hour, our system will automatically be notified—so please be mindful. During the internship, this is the C version, and its battery lasts over a month, so you won’t need to charge it.”
“A Guide Watch?”
“You’ll come to understand as you work. Guides can’t detect their own guiding levels. If you expend too much, it drains your physical strength. The Guide Watch compensates for that. Also, the C version includes a surveillance function—it monitors whether you’re upholding the confidentiality clause during the internship.”
The interviewer spoke so casually about surveillance that Ho-eun nearly forgot that eavesdropping was supposed to be illegal in Korea.
Even though the employment contract included a confidentiality clause, he’d thought that if he leaked anything behind their backs, there wouldn’t be any real consequence. But with a feature like this, the weight of the word “confidential” hit him hard.
“Once your internship is over, we’ll replace it with the B version. That one won’t have surveillance, but it’ll monitor the health and guiding status of Espers registered with the government. You won’t understand what that means now, though.”
“…Okay.”
Ho-eun nodded quietly, not quite following what the interviewer was talking about. He kept hearing the word guiding and pieced together that it had something to do with the Guide’s supernatural ability.
He wanted to ask more about it, but the interviewer didn’t seem the type to offer friendly explanations, so he decided he’d just look it up online later.
“That’ll be all for today. Tomorrow, a car will be waiting outside your house at the same time.”
“I start work tomorrow already?”
The idea of going from unemployed to a corporate drone overnight was a lot to process. The interviewer’s bombshell left a dark cloud over Ho-eun’s face.
“Yes. Your internship begins tomorrow. You’ll also need to stay in the dormitory for the next month, so bring whatever you’ll need.”
So surveillance wasn’t the end of it—he’d be confined to the dorms for a whole month.
It was hard to shake the feeling that he was some criminal being monitored in a prison cell. He half-expected them to start tracking his location whenever he went outside.
“And the necklace is a location—no, an onboarding gift. Let me put it on for you.”
Clearly eager to be done with it all, the interviewer used his ability to fasten the necklace around Ho-eun’s neck without even explaining further, then offered a polite farewell.
“My role ends here. Goodbye.”
The door, which had been tightly shut when Ho-eun desperately wanted to leave, opened now with ridiculous ease.
With the Guide Watch on his left wrist and the necklace around his neck, Ho-eun stepped into the hallway looking like someone who’d just been conned into buying a bunch of useless gadgets. The hot summer wind greeted him.
“It’s finally over.”
A sigh, heavy with both relief and emptiness, escaped him. His shoulders slumped as though weighed down by a burden. He rolled his stiff neck from side to side and exited the building.
The moment he stepped outside, a cloudless blue sky welcomed him. With no tall buildings in sight, the sky stretched wide and endlessly—breathtaking in its expanse.
“Haha. So, where the hell am I?”
Where could he be that not a single skyscraper was visible? Squinting against the glaring sunlight, Ho-eun forced a laugh and pulled his phone out of his pocket.
“Let’s be a modern man and check the GPS.”
There was nowhere in South Korea that didn’t show up on a map. But just as he went to open the map app, he tilted his head in confusion. His phone was off.
He was certain he hadn’t turned it off.
‘Did they use an ability to disable it? Maybe to block recording or photos?’
After just a few minutes, Ho-eun was already suspecting everything was the work of Espers. As he turned his phone back on and headed down toward the parking lot, he muttered:
“You came out faster than expected. Most people cause more of a scene before they leave… Oh, uh, forget I said that.”
A man with brown hair streaked with white in the middle approached Ho-eun as if he knew him. Upon closer look, it was the same man who had been in the driver’s seat earlier that day.
The man, smiling warmly as he spoke, suddenly covered his mouth in surprise at his own words and let out an awkward laugh.
‘So most people really do make a scene before coming out, huh.’
Even Ho-eun had to admit—it did seem like he gave in rather easily.
“Alright, alright. Time to head home. I already know your address, so I’ll take you.”
“I can get home on my own.”
Like someone suffering from chronic mistrust, Ho-eun flatly refused. The interviewer had left a bad impression, and it made him wary of any Esper, including this one.
“Oh, really? Well, it’s easier for me if I don’t use my ability, so that works.”
The moment the man mentioned ability, it brought back unpleasant memories from the interview. Ho-eun coldly brushed past him.
When he glanced down at his phone again—still in his hand—he quickly turned back.
“Wait a second. Why does the location say…”
Why did it show Gyeongju? His home was in Gyeonggi Province.
He hadn’t been to Gyeongju since his school trip—it wasn’t a place he’d visit just to see cherry blossoms alone. The reason was simple: it was ridiculously far from his house.
“Okay… yeah, I can’t get home on my own.”
“Knew it.”
“…Please take me back.”
Rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment, Ho-eun saw the man extend his hand.
“Your hand? You want me to hold your hand?”
“Yes.”
When Ho-eun hesitated and finally placed his hand in the man’s, a spark of energy shot through where their skin touched.
His stomach churned, a ringing filled his ears, and his vision wavered as the scenery around him rapidly shifted. As his balance faltered, the man, as if it were routine, wrapped an arm around Ho-eun’s waist to steady him.
He swallowed dryly, eyes downcast toward the ground—and before he knew it, he was standing in front of his house.
‘So this is what teleportation feels like. Convenient.’
He couldn’t help but think that it might’ve been better if he’d awakened as an Esper instead of a Guide.
The man gently wiggled their clasped hands.
“I’ll take my thank-you.”
“…Huh?”
The man’s lips brushed against the back of his hand.
“…Huh?!”
He had just been kissed on the hand. Ho-eun tried to pull away, but where the lips had touched, an even stronger current sparked across his skin, leaving him frozen.
“Hmm. I think you’ll make a good Guide.”
“What the—”
Just as he began to demand an explanation, the man vanished, and Ho-eun’s arm dropped limply.
The lingering warmth on his hand, the shrill cries of cicadas clinging to trees, the scorching summer sun—all seemed to be whispering the same thing.
That he could never go back to the ordinary life he once knew.
***
As soon as he opened the front door and stepped into the house, his eyes were drawn to the wall clock at the end of the hallway. It had only been an hour since he left.
‘Don’t tell me this was all just a dream.’
It was hard to believe all of that had happened in a single hour.
But the hastily abandoned meal on the kitchen table, now cold, told him otherwise—it was proof of how rushed everything had been.
Whether it was from the release of tension or just the sight of food, his stomach growled. While heating up the now-chilled rice in the microwave, Ho-eun calmly sorted through everything in his mind.
First off, his unemployed days were over. He had landed a job at the kind of public institution his parents had always dreamed of. There was still a tiny seed of doubt whispering maybe this is all a scam, but if they paid him what they promised, he was willing to bury that suspicion deep.
“…Still, writing a will? That’s a bit much.”
He murmured to himself while rubbing his face dryly, right as the microwave chimed in response.
As he took a bite, he chewed through both the food and his worries. A Guide’s only role was to heal Espers—so why did it feel like he needed to be ready to die?
In games, the healer’s job was to stay safely in the back and heal. But for Guides, was it more like being a healer with a stick—expected to whack monsters while healing too?
He’d been briefly blinded by the promise of money and signed that contract, but now the regret was rolling in.
“…This is really good.”
Even cold, his mom’s kimchi stew was delicious. Once he started dorm life, he probably wouldn’t get to eat home-cooked meals anymore. The reality of being thrust into independence without any preparation made his throat tighten.
After finishing his meal, he quickly stripped off the stiff suit and changed into his usual tracksuit. The moment he did, he could feel his tense body begin to relax.
He headed straight to his room and turned on his computer—intent on finding the answers the interviewer had refused to give him.
His first search term: Espers.
Half the results were just media content using the concept of superpowers.
The only halfway useful information came from old news articles about incidents resolved by Korean Espers. But there was nothing about Guides. And even the Espers had very few photos that revealed their faces. Most of the articles made it unclear whether the individuals in question were using supernatural powers or just firefighters in special gear.
[Korea’s Proud Hero! Sacrifices Himself to Save a Child!]
Among the articles, he finally found one that showed an Esper’s face. The photo showed a man wearing a helmet and combat gear—and as he stared at it, a memory surfaced.
“Wait a sec…”
That outfit—it was the same as the man he’d met on the rainy day.
Ho-eun’s gaze drifted toward the black umbrella resting by the front door.
‘He wasn’t just a background actor after all…’
The umbrella, which he’d thought would never make its way back to its owner, just might have a chance to return home.
Ho-eun added the black umbrella to the list of things he needed to pack for the dorm.
