As soon as Woo-chan’s inexplicably warm words came to an end, the young Espers standing irregularly behind him silently turned around. Even those with rough, volatile appearances—clearly not the type to take orders lightly—moved without hesitation, as though his decision was absolute.
The sound of rusted hinges echoed through the dim cathedral as the door opened and shut.
Just as Han-gyeom had wanted, only three remained—him, Kang Woo-chan, and Song Jae-woo.
“Jae-woo, could you sit a little farther away?”
“Mmkay…”
Jae-woo nodded at Woo-chan, who spoke without so much as glancing back, then made his way toward the edge of the light. Hesitating a bit, he quietly settled himself onto one of the long pews arranged for worship.
Han-gyeom let out a silent breath of relief as he watched Jae-woo move away. Now that he’d regained some stability, not only had his complexion improved, but his movements were no longer stiff or shaky. It had been a short guiding session, but the effect was remarkable.
“Your legs must be sore. Have a seat.”
Woo-chan gestured toward a wooden chair near the podium.
He knew full well that Han-gyeom was on edge, so he deliberately chose the second row of pews rather than sitting right in front. The first row would serve as a barrier if Han-gyeom tried to charge him, and the distance between them was just enough for Han-gyeom to escape on foot if needed. Woo-chan was hoping it would be enough to get Han-gyeom to let his guard down—if only a little.
Once Woo-chan sat down on the pew, Han-gyeom finally followed suit, remaining tense. He scanned the surroundings, wondering if anyone might be hiding nearby, but fortunately, there was no place around the podium where someone could conceal themselves.
Woo-chan let out a soft laugh at Han-gyeom’s cautiousness, then raised both hands in plain view, as if to say, “See for yourself.” If Han-gyeom had been pointing a weapon at him, it might have looked like a gesture of surrender. But now, it was a clear show of innocence—his hands were empty, holding nothing.
“I’m not gonna bite, you know. Relax.”
“Don’t lie. You had no problem biting Jae-woo.”
Han-gyeom shot back with a sharp glare, making Woo-chan glance back at Jae-woo with a hint of guilt. The boy was seated far enough away that unless someone raised their voice, he wouldn’t hear what they were saying.
Woo-chan replied to Han-gyeom with an apologetic tone.
“I didn’t have a choice. Using Song Jae-woo was the only way to get to you.”
Han-gyeom glanced over at Jae-woo, worried he might have heard. Fortunately, the boy looked completely innocent, unaware of the conversation.
“How much do you know?”
Woo-chan crossed one leg over the other and rested his chin in his hand as he asked, eyes glinting with curiosity.
Han-gyeom locked eyes with him for a moment before responding curtly.
“That you’re G_NO.01 from the First Ability Analysis Research Facility. And that all the terrorists were Ability Users who escaped from the lab.”
He said “about” as if downplaying it, but the facts were dead on—the essentials.
Woo-chan blinked, momentarily caught off guard, then chuckled in surprise.
“Impressive. How’d you figure that out?”
“Is it important?”
Instead of answering, Woo-chan let out a small hum through his nose, then lifted his gaze—his eyes suddenly cold as ice.
“It’s Cha Min-hyung, isn’t it?”
It wasn’t just cold. There was a vicious, blade-like killing intent, sharp enough to freeze the air. Han-gyeom could easily guess the source of it.
“All the experiments related to Guides began with me. Before I showed up, the accepted theory was that a Guide could only perform simple Guidings within a fixed grade.”
“The Guides at the lab were dragged into it because of me—because I disrupted the Esper Association’s official doctrine. You said I was a victim too, Han-gyeom, and maybe I’m not a perpetrator… but I am the reason all of this began. There’s no denying that.”
And it wasn’t just Kang Woo-chan.
The woman they met on the cruise had also shown clear hostility toward Min-hyung.
“Like he could do anything anyway. Fucking lapdog for the Association.”
She’d bared her teeth at Min-hyung too. Most likely because, in her eyes, it was his presence that gave legitimacy to the lab’s research and allowed it to thrive.
But Han-gyeom, who had met Min-hyung in person and shared a deep, sincere conversation with him, couldn’t bring himself to blame the man.
“He’s the only one, though. The only person who could’ve figured out the truth about us.”
Woo-chan let out a sharp scoff, aimed at the absent Cha Min-hyung.
No one but Min-hyung could’ve pieced together the terrorist group’s true identity—that it was a collective of Ability Users from the lab, including Woo-chan himself. There were so few people who even knew about the lab’s existence, and all related data had been erased. There was no way to investigate it directly.
Seo Won and Han-gyeom had narrowed it down and guessed that Woo-chan was from the lab, but it had been Cha Min-hyung who confirmed that the entire group shared that same origin.
“Still, I’m impressed. I didn’t think either Cha Min-hyung or Seo Won would hand over that kind of info.”
Woo-chan gave a look of mild surprise before asking with a touch of sympathy,
“Was it hard?”
The question sounded so genuine, it was as if he were right beside Han-gyeom, gently patting him on the back. When Han-gyeom couldn’t answer right away, Woo-chan let out a bitter sigh and continued.
“Of course it was. Like being forcibly Imprinted wasn’t enough, you were locked up every day, forced to Guide even when you didn’t want to… Fuck. Espers don’t give a shit about Guides’ rights.”
His voice, laced with curses, trembled quietly. The fingers supporting his chin began to shake too, until finally he clasped his hands tightly together in an effort to suppress his anger.
“I spent a long time being pimped out for Guiding too, just like you.”
The unexpected confession made Han-gyeom’s eyes go wide.
“You… did that kind of work too?”
“What, do I not look the part?”
Han-gyeom didn’t nod, but truthfully, yes.
On the surface, Kang Woo-chan looked like someone from a well-off family—well-groomed, dignified, with a mysterious charisma. No matter the circumstances, no one would ever imagine someone like him had once been a bottom-tier, unregistered Ability User doing dirty Guiding work just to survive.
Woo-chan let out a dry laugh.
“Escaping the lab was one thing, but once we were out, we had no idea what we were doing—no knowledge, no one to rely on. Just to survive, I had no choice but to start moving.”
Woo-chan recalled the moment when a crowd of young Espers had looked to him, their eyes filled with desperation and hope.
Right after escaping from the First Ability Analysis Research Facility, they were barely in their early teens.
Nineteen Espers. Only one Guide.
If any of them were caught displaying even a hint of their registered abilities, they risked being captured and dragged away. So, the Espers lived in total hiding within the ruins of this abandoned cathedral.
Compared to the Espers—each with unique abilities—a Guide uses a singular, defined skill: Guiding. Even if they were overworked or mentally distressed, there was no risk of violent outbursts or meltdowns like there was with Espers.
That meant Woo-chan had to be the one to step out and earn money.
An unregistered Guide doesn’t have many options.
Rather than getting dragged around as some stranger’s assigned Guide, he decided it was better to sell his Guiding through a broker who could act as a buffer.
Thrown into the muck as a teenage Guiding hustler, Kang Woo-chan quickly became very popular. It wasn’t just because teen Guides capable of handling sensitive young Espers were rare—it was his addiction.
To avoid attracting the Association’s attention, he had to control the intensity of his Guiding, weakening the addictive effects to a barely noticeable degree. The clients never realized anything was strange, but they kept coming back—to him—again and again. Before long, he had built up a roster of loyal regulars.
But the more he worked, the deeper his hatred and contempt for Espers grew. He hadn’t even done deep Guiding, and yet it still felt like stripping naked and selling his body. That feeling came from the Espers’ eyes—eyes filled with want, with desire.
As Woo-chan revisited those memories, his gaze darkened with raw disgust, directed at Espers whose faces he could no longer even remember.
That look vanished completely when he turned to Han-gyeom, eyes now filled with something far more gentle.
“It must’ve been so hard for you. But it’s okay now.”
There was something strange—something powerful—in Woo-chan’s words. Like a long, soothing comfort after an exhausting journey, they stirred something deep in Han-gyeom’s chest. Maybe it was because he could so clearly imagine the life Woo-chan had endured in the lab and as a Guiding hustler.
“Just like you guessed, we’re all Ability Users from the lab. We’re closer than brothers. None of us try to use each other like the bastards outside.”
Woo-chan stood up.
“We don’t want you to suffer anymore. Just like Jae-woo wished, we want you to live peacefully—always smiling, with nothing weighing you down.”
Han-gyeom’s eyes naturally drifted toward Jae-woo. Even while entranced by Woo-chan’s Guiding, he’d still been thinking of Han-gyeom. That simple realization brought a small, unexpected warmth to his heart.
“It doesn’t matter if you’re Imprinted. It’s okay even if you can’t Guide anyone else. Whether it’s Seo Won or the Association, we won’t let anyone lay a finger on you—we’ll protect you.”
There was no mistaking the sincerity in Woo-chan’s voice as he walked closer to Han-gyeom. To them, an Imprinted Guide was basically the same as an ordinary person who couldn’t offer anything of use. But none of that mattered to Woo-chan—his words were blind, unwavering, devoted.
This is how powerful ‘shared pain’ can be.
Han-gyeom looked at Woo-chan, who was now standing before him, and asked:
“What’s the picture you’re ultimately trying to paint?”
What was the vision driving the terrorist group led by Kang Woo-chan?
There was no way Han-gyeom wouldn’t be curious about what lay at the end of all this.
Woo-chan offered up a reason that was all too easy to predict.
“To bring down the current Esper Association.”
After all, they’d been imprisoned and relentlessly experimented on by that very Association’s research facility. There was no reason to question it.
So it really is that, Han-gyeom thought, quietly accepting it.
Woo-chan leaned forward toward him. His hands gripped the armrests of Han-gyeom’s chair, boxing him in.
“And if you come with me… I’ll add one more piece to that picture. Just for you.”
His face moved in close, lips brushing against Han-gyeom’s ear as he whispered:
“Revenge on your Imprinter, Song Yeon-woo.”
