When Ho-eun and Do In-ho returned to the village chief’s house, Black greeted them warmly. Se-ho, who had been clinging tightly to Ho-eun’s hand, was called in and scolded by the chief.
“So that’s what happened. He used his ability for over five seconds.”
Ho-eun explained to Black why Ha-jun had passed out and filled him in on the encounter with the anti-government Espers. Throughout their conversation, Do In-ho stood a step away, eyes lowered.
If only I were stronger. No—if I’d had telekinesis like Ha-jun instead of fire from the beginning…
Self-doubt. Guilt. A flood of negativity consumed Do In-ho. He was struck once again by the painful truth—his ability was perfectly suited to hurting people, but not to saving them.
“In-ho, are you feeling unwell?”
“…I’m fine.”
Ho-eun, seemingly done talking with Black, placed a hand on Do In-ho’s shoulder and asked. Do In-ho shook his head. He didn’t want anyone to see through his negative thoughts.
“Should we head back to HQ for now? Team Lead Ha-jun probably needs to be examined.”
Black looked down worriedly at the still-unconscious Ha-jun. The two nodded in agreement.
Black input the HQ address into the navigation and quickly activated his ability. Unlike earlier in the day, he didn’t make a single mistake and parked the car right in front of the Seoul headquarters.
“From here, we’ll proceed with a guide from our own team.”
As they got out of the car, Kim Mi-young stood waiting at the entrance—still in what looked like her home clothes, likely having rushed over after Black contacted her. Ho-eun looked at her with a troubled expression, feeling responsible for not managing things properly.
“First time seeing you like this.”
“Huh?”
“You’ve only ever gone on low-risk missions, so there was never any danger before.”
“Ah…”
“Now I look like an idiot.”
Kim Mi-young rubbed her weary face and let out a sigh of frustration. The staff waiting to transport Ha-jun moved him onto a stretcher and took him away. Kim Mi-young held Ha-jun’s hand and followed alongside him.
“I’ll contact you again once we’ve finished processing everything. Thanks for your hard work today.”
“Yeah. You too, Black.”
After sending off the Civil Complaints Division team, the two of them got into a car parked off to the side of the lot. Do In-ho naturally took the driver’s seat.
“Are you sure you’re okay to drive? Want me to do it?”
“I’m fine. You’re the one who had to deal with falling into the water.”
“Eh, I’m used to getting wet.”
“……”
Even earlier, Ho-eun had noticed In-ho didn’t seem okay. He’d been off ever since they were at the stream. Ho-eun folded his arms and closed his eyes as if to gather his thoughts.
He just couldn’t figure out why In-ho was so upset. No one got hurt, the scene was safely resolved. Still unsure, Ho-eun finally turned on the radio to break the awkward silence.
A jazzy tune began to play. As the car sped down the highway, Ho-eun stared out the window.
“In-ho, are you really not going to tell me?”
“……”
“You really do look angry, you know.”
They’d been driving in silence for a while when the outline of Incheon Airport came into view. One more intersection with the ability-enhanced traffic lights and they’d be at the Incheon branch.
“Yeah, I am angry… I guess I am. Even though I was there, you still almost got hurt.”
“Huh?”
“It was Team Lead Ha-jun who saved you. Not me. That just… pisses me off.”
“What are you talking about? You fought the anti-government guy—thanks to that, Ha-jun was able to focus on saving me.”
The car, stopped at a red light, resumed driving as the light turned green. Passing through the ability-linked signal, they were suddenly cruising down the road in front of the Incheon branch.
“I’m angry at myself for being useless to you.”
Do In-ho gripped the steering wheel tightly, as if it were the only outlet for his rage. Before Ho-eun could respond, he noticed a stream of tears rolling down In-ho’s cheek and his mouth fell open in surprise.
“Why—why are you crying?”
Do In-ho pulled the car over in the middle of the road and bowed his head.
“Do you hate me now?”
“What are you talking about?”
“My fire can’t save you. I’m no help to you.”
Ho-eun reached out and cupped In-ho’s right cheek. Gently wiping the tears from the corner of his eye with his thumb, In-ho leaned into his hand like a cat nuzzling affectionately.
“Why would I hate you?”
“Then what?”
“Well… I like you. As a coworker. We’re partners, right?”
“Do you like me?”
It must have been raining in Incheon too. The sky was blanketed with clouds, and the moon was nowhere to be seen. Yet In-ho’s golden eyes sparkled so brightly, it felt like the moon had chosen to hide inside them.
“Yeah.”
Do In-ho was a good person. Crying because he couldn’t save someone with his own power—if that didn’t count as “good,” what did? Without even realizing it, Ho-eun had come to include In-ho in his idea of what made someone kind. And kind people were good people. So naturally, he liked In-ho.
Though his answer carried a different meaning from what In-ho had asked, Ho-eun gently stroked his head with affection.
“You did well today, In-ho.”
At those words, In-ho exhaled a trembling breath of relief.
Ho-eun didn’t hate him. He liked him. That alone lifted In-ho’s falling spirit back into the sky. Still unaware of the emotional shift, Ho-eun kept gently caressing his head.
In-ho stifled a laugh deep inside.
Ah. So if I cry… Ho-eun hyung looks only at me like this.
Unaware of the dark, selfish thought lurking beneath, Ho-eun smiled, relieved to see In-ho’s tears finally stop.
When they got back to the dorm, they showered and lay in bed. Since Do In-ho had used his ability that day, Ho-eun—unlike usual when they just held hands—wrapped In-ho tightly in his arms. The more physical contact they had, the better the direct guiding worked. Listening to each other’s heartbeats, the two drifted off to sleep.
***
Carrying a camcorder, the two entered the PR Department’s conference room. Ho-eun took out the memory card and inserted it into the laptop, and the footage appeared on screen.
“If you could write down the time stamps of the clips you want to use, along with any text or reference materials you want included, just note them here.”
They weren’t alone in the meeting room. Jinny, wearing her signature round glasses, handed them some papers.
“So, the video will be edited exactly according to what we write here?”
“Yes, that’s right. We’ll get your final confirmation before submitting the final version.”
“Got it.”
Unsure how to approach the editing, Ho-eun was relieved by Jinny’s explanation. Thankfully, the Planning Department staff would be handling the technical side.
Even though he’d confidently told Do In-ho, “I’m a YouTuber,” all Ho-eun really knew how to do was trim clips and add background music. So he was grateful.
They sat down and began watching the footage, marking time stamps on the paper Jinny had given them as they decided what to include.
“Let’s cut this part out too.”
“Huh? But that’s the group greeting scene during the guide introductions. I kinda want to keep that.”
“Your face is visible. We can’t use it.”
“Uh… but there are over ten people in that shot—me, the other interns, and even the center staff. Isn’t that okay?”
At Ho-eun’s reasoning, In-ho shook his head. That was a firm no. Ho-eun reluctantly jotted down the time stamp as In-ho requested.
The concept discussion—deciding on scene flow and cut selection—dragged on until 5 p.m.
They’d gone to a cafe, had lunch, taken breaks, and still it felt like the meeting had gone on forever. Ho-eun stretched, feeling the weight of time spent.
“Finally done.”
Hoping their efforts would pay off in a quality final video, he tucked the memory card and Jinny’s papers into a document envelope.
While walking to deliver the envelope to a remaining staff member in the PR office, Ho-eun looked up and noticed someone approaching from the opposite end of the hallway.
“In-ho, that’s a green employee badge…”
A black-haired man with the same green ID badge as them was walking toward them.
—Thud.
The man, walking just fine, stepped on an untied shoelace and tripped. It looked like he was used to it; he simply brushed off his pants and got up.
“Uh… your phone.”
His phone had fallen and rolled across the floor during the fall, stopping right in front of Ho-eun. When Ho-eun picked it up to return it, the phone greeted him with deep scratches on both corners and a cracked screen. How many times had this been dropped to look like that?
“Thank you.”
The man took the phone and gave a polite bow before walking past them down the hall.
Nam Woon-soo.
Ho-eun read the name on the man’s badge. Nam Woon-soo’s face and even his hands were covered in bruises and scrapes—not from being hit, but likely from falls or collisions.
“Bothering you?”
“Huh? Nah. He just had a lot of bruises.”
“He’s an Esper. They heal quickly.”
At In-ho’s words, Ho-eun realized Nam Woon-soo was an Esper. A green badge meant he was in the PR Department. So he must’ve been one of the two he hadn’t met yet.
But first, he needed to submit the documents. Ho-eun shook off his thoughts and resumed walking toward the PR office.
***
[Hello. I’m Kwon Ho-eun, a newly minted full-time employee. I’m filming a video about my life at the company.]
A dimly lit room. Ho-eun’s familiar voice played from the laptop speaker, though the footage showed not his face, but the exterior of the Esper Association’s Incheon branch.
“So only the Espers show their faces, huh.”
Hosoo muttered to himself while watching from the couch. Technically, someone like Do In-ho—an implanted crystal Esper—shouldn’t have his face shown either. But apparently, they’d decided that if everyone else’s face appeared except his, it would seem too suspicious. So In-ho’s face was clearly visible without mosaic blur.
“What’s this? A PR video?”
Baek Woo-gyeong walked out of the room stark naked. Hosoo fast-forwarded the video without even glancing at him.
“If you’re done, get out.”
“I’m still low on guiding. Be a sweet newbie Guide and hug me tight and sleep with me, pleeease~”
“You fucking lunatic.”
Hosoo scowled at Baek Woo-gyeong’s naked body. Snickering, Baek Woo-gyeong lazily picked up his clothes from the floor and sat beside him.
“I said get lost.”
“I’m here to talk work.”
“What?”
“Kwon Ho-eun… let’s reassess his Guide rank.”
Gone was the usual playful grin. Baek Woo-gyeong looked at Hosoo with a serious face.
“If he’s really D-rank, then he can’t be paired with Do In-ho. The levels don’t match. How’s a D supposed to guide an S?”
“I already told you—his resonance rate is high.”
“No matter how high it is, a D can’t stop an S-class overload. That month-long coma says it all. Maybe he fooled the old folks, but not me.”
“I’ve said it a dozen fucking times. That day, In-ho had taken an Esper Ability Enhancer—he burned through more energy than usual.”
Baek Woo-gyeong shot him a sharp look. Hosoo ran a hand through his bangs in irritation and grabbed Baek Woo-gyeong by the collar.
“Quit circling around it. Speak straight.”
“Sleep with him. I’ll drop the reassessment if you do.”
Hosoo let go of his collar and shut the laptop.
“Move.”
“Tsk. Such a temper.”
Baek Woo-gyeong trailed after Hosoo, who turned to leave.
