A sensation burning hot as if he’d been scorched by fire painfully jolted every cell awake. The neat three-character Name engraved across his back writhed violently. From the moment Choi Tae-hoon stopped moving, Gwan-young couldn’t even tell whether he himself had still been breathing.
“Could you step outside for a moment.”
Lee Mihyun spoke almost like a sigh to the medical staff, who were helpless before the heavy silence filling the examination room. Oh Yeon ushered everyone out and locked the door behind them. The only ones left inside now were the problematic Pair and the Center’s lead researchers.
“Ji Gwan-young-ssi.”
Even at Mihyun’s call, Gwan-young gave no response.
As though the only thing he was capable of doing was staring at the Guide with his swollen eyes shut, he merely sat there blankly.
“Ji Gwan-young-ssi!”
“……”
“Lower your voice.”
“Just answer the question.”
At the low voice, Mihyun shrugged her shoulders. Leaning against the wall, Oh Yeon silently watched Ji Gwan-young, while the other researchers held their breath, terrified of provoking the Esper.
“How far can rebound actually go?”
Looks like he’s finally in the mood to seriously think about it.
Mihyun glanced toward Tae-hoon as well before slowly opening her mouth. A bitter taste lingered on her tongue.
“A rebound this severe is extremely rare. Unless it’s under special circumstances…….”
“What kind of special circumstances.”
“……”
“I’m asking what.”
For the first time, the Esper’s gaze turned toward Mihyun.
His eyes shone coldly, as if the shell he’d at least bothered to wear until now had completely peeled away. The sensation of every tiny hair on her body standing on end was deeply unfamiliar to Mihyun, who was also an Esper. Next time, I’m definitely making Yeon or someone else handle this. Struggling to sound calm, Mihyun forced out the words she’d wanted to avoid.
“You could call it an unwanted relationship.”
“How surprising. Apparently there are people who want to breed through those damn matches.”
Ji Gwan-young’s words reduced the Center’s Esper-Guide matching to its most vulgar form, leaving her momentarily speechless. Mihyun tried to phrase it more tactfully, but then gave a small shake of her head and chose a more direct word instead.
“You don’t seem to understand well, but unless it’s rape, rebounds like this are hard to trigger.”
That was enough to make the sarcastic Ji Gwan-young shoot to his feet.
As well as turn the water inside the cup into long, razor-sharp needles.
“You’re talking awfully freely now. Maybe I should shut that mouth of yours permanently.”
“Ohoh, wow, yes, even for someone like you, that won’t happen so easily!”
“……Rejection.”
As the armrest Mihyun gripped twisted sharply out of shape, a low voice that sounded almost like something scraping cut into the conversation between the two Espers. It was Oh Yeon, another Esper.
The gazes of Gwan-young and Mihyun, who’d nearly collided head-on, simultaneously shifted toward the expressionless man.
“What did you just say?”
“Rebound-rejection.”
At Oh Yeon’s words, Mihyun’s eyes widened as if she’d suddenly realized something. Cases where a Name and a Pair matching existed together were so rare that the symptom hadn’t even crossed her mind. Not only Mihyun, but the surrounding researchers stirred as well.
That reaction made Ji Gwan-young feel strangely irritated, his brows faintly furrowing. But before he could deepen his suspicion, Oh Yeon continued first.
“The rebound Choi Tae-hoon was already carrying had your rejection added onto it, Ji Gwan-young-ssi.”
“My rejection?”
“Doubt toward the person sharing your Name. Exclusion. Refusal.”
“……”
“Once Names become entangled, it’s poison.”
At Oh Yeon’s blunt explanation, Gwan-young revealed a fragment of his emotions for the first time. The slight crease between his brows almost looked hesitant.
Seeing that, Oh Yeon opened his mouth again, for the first time since entering the examination room speaking with genuine sincerity.
It was an utterly dry sneer.
“Isn’t all you’re thinking about using Tae-hoon as a Guide?”
Without affirming or denying it, Ji Gwan-young met Oh Yeon’s eyes. Mihyun finally let out a small sigh and tilted her head back, as though everything had finally clicked into place.
Ji Gwan-young—that arrogant Esper—not suffering from rebound at all had felt somewhat strange. Still, she’d assumed the satisfaction of finally finding a compatible Guide had made him accept Tae-hoon.
But now that she understood, this was, in some ways, an even worse situation than Tae-hoon’s.
It was truly hopeless.
Ji Gwan-young—that Esper—had completely accepted the existence of a “Guide.”
He felt no rejection toward the relationship. If anything, he welcomed it gladly. That was why he carried no rebound burden at all. Now that he’d found a Guide capable of correcting his twisted sense of time, he was fully prepared to utilize him better than anyone else.
Just seeing how willingly he compromised and adjusted the personal distance he’d always rigidly maintained in daily life whenever he was in front of Tae-hoon was proof of tremendous favor on his part.
But that was because Choi Tae-hoon was a Guide.
He cherished him only because he was his Guide. It wasn’t much different from the light, shallow attachment someone might pour onto a beautiful and precious artificial flower. What mattered was the “Guide,” not “Choi Tae-hoon.”
……Then why did rejection suddenly begin?
As her thoughts reached that point, Mihyun became slightly puzzled.
The first time they’d slept together, his condition hadn’t been this severe. He’d been fully conscious, and communication hadn’t been a problem either.
Then there was only one clue.
The suddenly plummeting low score. Something had clearly happened between that troublesome Esper-Guide pair, and whatever it was had undoubtedly started all of this.
Mihyun glanced at the monitor displaying the Guide’s condition and tried to send Oh Yeon away, since he was still creating an ominous atmosphere with Ji Gwan-young.
But before she could, Oh Yeon spoke first.
And unlike Mihyun’s provocative wording, his statement was more than enough to truly provoke Ji Gwan-young.
“—Choi Tae-hoon’s condition worsening is entirely your fault, Ji Gwan-young. Don’t even think about blaming Tae-hoon’s rebound.”
It was spoken in a calm, matter-of-fact tone, but everyone in the examination room screamed internally at the same time.
No matter how strained things had become between them, they were still a Pair bound by an unprecedented score. That score represented not only the compatibility between the two, but also the level of dependence the Esper was inevitably bound to develop toward the Guide.
Even before confirming the match, he’d looked like the kind of man who might snap if someone merely laid a finger on Tae-hoon the wrong way.
And yet someone was provoking that kind of person.
The researchers all simultaneously regretted not fleeing the hospital room much earlier.
Only then did Lee Mihyun realize Oh Yeon was far angrier than she’d thought.
Which made sense. Oh Yeon had watched Tae-hoon since high school. Tae-hoon, who’d spent his entire life as the eldest child, had followed Oh Yeon around almost like an older brother, and taciturn Oh Yeon had treated Tae-hoon with unusual warmth in return.
Mihyun inwardly clicked her tongue at the murderous tension flowing between the two Espers.
Oh Yeon’s physical abilities were far superior to a Middle’s, sure, but he was still an Intelligence-type Esper. He couldn’t even begin to compare to Ji Gwan-young, who could barely be described as merely overwhelming among Physical-type Espers.
…..Still, that guy’s no ordinary person either.
Mihyun quickly regained her composure. Usually, Oh Yeon was the one handling mediation, so the moment the actual mediator let go of the controls, it snapped her back to her senses.
Ji Gwan-young’s eyes curved faintly.
“Are you finished talking?”
The sharp sentence that flowed smoothly from his handsome voice and gentle tone was practically a declaration of war.
At the same time, the mass of water that had resembled a giant thorn instantly split apart into short, needle-like spikes.
Only then did Lee Mihyun realize that no Esper who had just watched their Guide stop breathing for even a moment could possibly be sane.
She’d made a mistake.
Assuming things would be fine simply because it was “Ji Gwan-young,” she’d neglected to properly check his condition.
The attacks manifested by Physical-type Espers were fragments revealing their psychology.
Sharp needles.
That was Ji Gwan-young’s current state.
The moment Ji Gwan-young moved to attack, Mihyun tightened her grip, preparing to hurl one of the medical beds at him.
And then—
“…….Wow.”
It was such a tiny voice that anyone not listening carefully might’ve missed it.
But to the Espers, it posed no difficulty at all.
The heads of every Esper among the researchers snapped around simultaneously. The Middles and Guides followed in confusion, turning their gazes as well.
At the same time, the water needles clattered to the floor like metal marbles.
“…Ji Gwan-young……. seriously…….”
“…….”
“Your personality…….”
Having barely managed to open his eyes, Tae-hoon stubbornly voiced his opinion even through his weak, broken speech.
“It’s incredibly, totally, awful…… You scared me.”
“That’s the first thing you say after opening your eyes?”
For the first time, genuine disbelief mixed into Ji Gwan-young’s voice. Tae-hoon merely blinked slowly at him.
***
The “production” of a Guide capable of matching perfectly with any Esper and producing the highest compatibility rate possible.
That was effectively the top priority of every corporation possessing Espers—symbols of power—and, on a larger scale, entire nations.
There had once been a time when all research and support focused solely on improving Esper abilities. But that had been decades ago, before research into Esper-Guide Pairs became systematic. In a way, it was only natural that the focus of research shifted from Espers to Guides.
Espers were far too “weak” to endure the endless flood of intangible information assaulting their minds and the abilities threatening to spiral out of control and crush every blood vessel in their bodies at any moment.
That the strongest beings could become weaker than anything else was, in its own way, tragic.
Of course, Espers were most dangerous precisely when they became that weak.
The danger posed when the strongest existence degenerated into a broken killing weapon incapable of distinguishing ally from enemy was impossible to overstate.
That was when the spotlight finally turned toward the ordinary people whose importance had been overlooked.
For a long time, the power of Guides received no real attention from anyone. Even the Espers who depended on Guides were no exception. Espers overestimated their own strength and denied the need for beings who could lead them.
Naturally, the result was catastrophic.
A horrific end in the corner of a psychiatric ward or at the site of a terrorist attack—that was the only future available to Espers, whose average lifespan barely reached their early forties back then.
Only then did the Espers finally turn their attention toward those fragile, fragile people who nevertheless allowed them to breathe.
They had to admit they couldn’t stand alone.
Once they let go of the stubborn pride built entirely on arrogance over possessing power, conditions rapidly began to improve. It was around that time that Esper-Guide human rights organizations also began to take shape.
After recognizing the necessity of Guides, Espers began directly researching Esper-Guide Pairs themselves using their own abilities. This was also when the Center, once little more than a hollow institution, underwent explosive growth.
The Guides willingly cooperated as well, offering the invisible power they possessed.
But just as every light casts a shadow, peace was not the only thing brought by Esper-Guide unions.
In the darkness, another kind of research began.
The cultivation of Guides perfectly tailored to fit powerful Espers.
Once it became certain that Guides were the only beings capable of leading Espers, Guides became even more important than Espers themselves. If one could create a “thing” capable of Guiding an Esper so they could perform at their absolute best, overwhelming power would naturally follow.
That research went through countless trials and errors.
In places untouched by even a single ray of sunlight, many people were turned into test subjects—and then disappeared.
