Clink—
The leather strap that had bound Yeon-woo’s right arm to the operating table came loose with a limp rattle, the metal buckle clattering softly as it hit the table. Yeon-woo, who had secretly stolen a scalpel to cut through the strap earlier, swiftly sliced through the guiding control device locked around Han-gyeom’s wrist.
As Han-gyeom regained the ability to freely use his Guiding power, Yeon-woo forced a smile through cracked, bloodied lips.
“Kill me…”
Seeing Yeon-woo plead for nothing but death, Han-gyeom could no longer bring himself to shake his head in denial.
In the end, Han-gyeom reached out and grabbed him—and began to destroy every ESP pathway running through Yeon-woo’s body.
Using his GP, Cha Han-gyeom’s absolute authority—capable of seizing and dominating every ESP channel—forcefully triggered a berserk state in the undying esper who once seemed impossible to kill.
As his body was consumed by black veins, Yeon-woo smiled—a radiant, dazzling smile brighter than ever before.
BOOM—!
RUMBLE—!
A deafening roar exploded in an instant, enough to leave ears ringing.
Screams erupted from the ones who had tormented Han-gyeom with brutal experiments and tried to manipulate him for Guiding. Those who had driven Yeon-woo to ruin were torn apart with no chance to escape. The grotesque black monster—something no longer recognizable as human—rampaged mercilessly until not a single soul was left alive.
Except for one.
Only Cha Han-gyeom remained untouched.
“Hyung…”
Han-gyeom clutched his ears with both hands, trembling uncontrollably.
He didn’t want to hear it—not the thunderous sound of the building collapsing, not the desperate screams of the dying, not the monstrous roars from the creature Yeon-woo had become.
The monster, who had slaughtered every last person in the research facility, let out a soul-piercing wail.
That roar slipped through the cracks of Han-gyeom’s hands and pierced his ears.
Save me.
I don’t want to die.
I wanted to live, too.
It felt like Yeon-woo’s voice was crying out from within that creature’s primal, mindless form.
A desperate plea that only Cha Han-gyeom could hear.
Maybe it wasn’t too late.
Maybe he could still be saved.
Han-gyeom lowered his hands from his ears and crawled toward him. Even as his skin tore and bled from scraping against the jagged, shattered floor, he didn’t stop. He kept moving, crawling closer to that massive, monstrous black beast.
“Hyung… Hyung…!”
However, the crumbling monster only stared quietly at Han-gyeom. It never once reached out to him.
It simply disintegrated—fragment by fragment, like it had finally gotten what it wanted—until it crumbled away with a soft fsshh, vanishing like dust in the wind.
Han-gyeom’s tear-streaked face was instantly overtaken by despair. He flailed his arms, desperately trying to grasp what was left, but all that remained in his clutch were black ashes.
Choking out a voiceless scream, Han-gyeom stared at the pile of soot before him.
Just a handful.
Even if it were only a single handful…
If he could hold onto the last warmth of Yeon-woo with these hands.
With vacant, lifeless eyes, he reached forward. A handful of black ash filled his palm.
“Cha Han-gyeom.”
Suddenly, an unfamiliar voice echoed beside his ear, and Han-gyeom froze in place.
At some point, the guiding control device—undoubtedly the one Yeon-woo had cut off for him—had been fastened back around his right wrist like a shackle.
A hand reached from behind and covered his clenched fist. Then, with force, it pried his fingers open.
The black ashes he had gripped so tightly slipped through his fingers in a cascade of crumbling fragments.
“You won’t be needing that medicine anymore.”
Despair flooded Han-gyeom’s face once more.
It felt like losing Yeon-woo all over again—just when he’d barely managed to catch him.
“N-No… please…!”
“Cling to me, Cha Han-gyeom.”
The cold voice whispered with a low, mirthless chuckle. Han-gyeom, now pressed against the man’s chest, could only wail as the ashes fell through his hands without so much as a chance to hold them again.
“From now on, I’ll be your salvation.”
Only after every last grain of ash Han-gyeom had barely managed to hold had disappeared, did the man dare to utter the word salvation.
***
Twitch. His hand twitched as if trying to grasp something. But even as he opened his eyes, there was still nothing in his hand.
Han-gyeom slowly raised his right hand—naked, not a single thread on his body.
Just like at the end of the dream, the guiding control device in the form of a black strap was secured around his wrist. And within the grip of that bound hand…
There was nothing. Truly, nothing at all.
Only then did the realization sink in.
“He’s gone…”
The one trace of Yeon-woo—the only person who had stayed by his side—had been wiped away without a trace. The single handful of ash he had clung to so desperately had crumbled and vanished with pitiful ease.
“Ugh… cough, cough!”
Without any warning, a violent coughing fit suddenly overtook him. Han-gyeom turned onto his side, clamping both hands over his mouth as the coughs kept coming.
It felt like his organs were being twisted tighter and tighter. A deep, writhing pain surged through his body, as though something inside him was breaking down, piece by piece.
But now, there was no “medicine” left. It had all shattered—completely vanished.
“Kuhk— ugh, koff!”
The rotten insides that should have been purged long ago now shoved Han-gyeom into unbearable agony and terror.
Save me.
I don’t want to die.
I wanted to live too.
It felt like Song Yeon-woo’s cries—those last desperate pleas from when he became a monster—were going to erupt straight from Han-gyeom’s throat.
He was scared.
He was terrified of dying.
And yet, the fact that death was inevitable—that it was coming—was horrifying.
‘Hyung must have felt the same.’
Trembling, Han-gyeom curled into himself, haunted by the memory of Song Yeon-woo. The thought of dying like this, coughing up blood, consumed him with fear.
“Cha Han-gyeom.”
A cold voice called to him from behind his hunched back. Before he could even react, his body lifted—suddenly cradled in the arms of a man sitting on the edge of the bed.
“You’re okay now. Breathe in deep.”
The calm voice rang out through the chaos of his mind, and almost instinctively, Han-gyeom obeyed. Even as the coughing wracked his chest, he tried to inhale.
The instinct to survive responded to the man’s voice without question.
As he drew in a deep breath, a cool cologne scent filled his lungs, along with an indescribable warmth.
It was a warmth far too gentle—far too kind—for someone who spoke in such a cold, detached tone.
Strangely, the moment he felt that warmth, the coughing began to subside.
From lingering coughs to complete stillness, Han-gyeom no longer choked. Gasping, he sucked in air greedily. His breathing had grown ragged and shallow from the pain that had surged from within and the coughing that had refused to stop.
Now that the pain had eased and the coughing stopped, Han-gyeom’s mind finally began to clear.
At that moment, the man holding him spoke again, his voice as cold as ever.
“Looks like you’re stable now.”
Han-gyeom lowered his tear-soaked eyes and trembled as he opened his lips.
“…Why did you do that? Why…?”
Seo Won responded to the question without even a pause to think.
“Because you don’t need it anymore.”
“I… don’t need it…?”
Han-gyeom lifted his gaze and locked eyes with Seo Won’s glacial, blue stare.
“I can stabilize you with my ESP alone, even without that ash-infused water. That’s all it takes.”
“What do you mean that’s all it takes? That was my last—!”
“Your last bit of ash, right. So what?”
A look of despair washed over Cha Han-gyeom’s face. It was not just a simple medicine. It was something akin to a memento from Song Yeon-woo, who was no more. Until now, it had been something Cha Han-gyeom cherished dearly.
Yet, Seo Won had discarded and shattered it like trash, and now he was criticizing Cha Han-gyeom for clinging to such a thing.
“There’s nothing more foolish than being obsessed with and dependent on the dead,” Seo Won said.
Cha Han-gyeom’s shoulders trembled. It felt as if Seo Won was denying the very existence Cha Han-gyeom had struggled to maintain until now.
Seo Won pushed Cha Han-gyeom onto the bed. Cha Han-gyeom lay there, naked and helpless, as Seo Won climbed on top of him.
“Why don’t you start accepting it, Cha Han-gyeom?” Seo Won’s cold voice uttered Song Yeon-woo’s name.
“Song Yeon-woo is already dead.”
For some reason, hearing the declaration of Song Yeon-woo’s death from Seo Won’s lips made it starkly clear in Cha Han-gyeom’s mind.
“Even if you cling to those ashes, he won’t come back.”
As Cha Han-gyeom recalled the last of the scattered ashes, tears began to well up in his eyes. Seo Won wiped away the tears, his voice growing even more resolute.
“Even if your insides rot and you can’t breathe, there’s nothing the dead can do for you.”
Seo Won’s face drew closer to Cha Han-gyeom’s.
“I’m the only one who can save you.”
A cruel smile played on Seo Won’s lips as they brushed against Cha Han-gyeom’s faint breath.
“So, you just need to shut up and guide me. Focus only on keeping me alive.”
Seo Won’s tongue traced Cha Han-gyeom’s lips before his hand firmly gripped Cha Han-gyeom’s fragile neck. It felt as if the slightest pressure could snap it.
Seo Won deliberately grasped Cha Han-gyeom’s neck and forcibly drew out the guiding. Cha Han-gyeom’s body twitched as he gasped for breath, the sensation vividly transmitting through the contact. A submissive guiding flowed obediently into Seo Won’s hand.
Seo Won’s long fingers invaded Cha Han-gyeom’s mouth, pressing and rubbing against his hot tongue, stealing his saliva. Cha Han-gyeom could only moan helplessly.
The fingers, now wet with saliva, moved downwards. As they firmly pressed against the tightly closed entrance, Cha Han-gyeom’s body shivered slightly.
Cha Han-gyeom did not resist. He passively accepted the fingers that not only teased his entrance but also delved deep inside.
“Ah….!”
Only when the fingertips touched the sensitive spot inside did a trembling moan escape his lips.
Seo Won kissed Cha Han-gyeom deeply, swallowing his open mouth whole, as he repeatedly stimulated the deep, instinctively tightening inner walls. Each touch made Cha Han-gyeom’s red-eyed lashes flutter, and the guiding grew more intense.
As Cha Han-gyeom’s breath grew ragged, Seo Won withdrew his fingers from the now sufficiently prepared entrance.
Then, Cha Han-gyeom’s legs were spread apart, and a hot, thick cock slowly pushed its way inside.
“Hnng!”
Cha Han-gyeom squeezed his eyes shut as he felt the penetrating force, tears streaming down his cheeks.
Even in that moment, Cha Han-gyeom continued to guide Seo Won instinctively, despite no device forcing the guiding anymore.
Seo Won whispered lowly to the closed-eyed Cha Han-gyeom, “Let go of everything. Everything but me.”
“Everything…..” Cha Han-gyeom murmured, his lips barely moving between labored breaths.
Out of Seo Won’s sight, Cha Han-gyeom’s slender hand clutched the white bedsheet tightly.
Throughout the intense movements and passionate moans, Cha Han-gyeom’s grip on the sheet never loosened. It was as if he was desperately trying to hold onto something that was slipping away.
***
“Hm, hmm, hm..”
In the dimly lit room, illuminated only by the soft moonlight, someone was humming a tune.
*Drawer opens*
Someone placed a carefully sealed letter deep into the drawer, hidden well out of sight.
In the front, more visibly, they placed a disposable lighter that looked like it would run out of gas after one or two uses—an empty, useless lighter.
Closing the drawer, the person glanced around the room and muttered, “I hope he likes the gift I brought.”
With his back to the moonlight, he smiled widely, thinking of the room’s owner, Cha Han-gyeom.
