Their eyes met.
Realizing the two Center Directors were focused elsewhere, Eun-jo moved his lips.
“Idiot.”
Maybe he’d finally learned something—this time, Kim Min-jae didn’t grab him by the collar. His hands just trembled violently.
While Kim Min-jae seethed with rage and the two Directors stayed locked in their own agendas, the hands that had been holding each other were suddenly yanked back.
Eun-jo turned—and found Jung Tae-seok glaring, eyes blazing.
Tae-seok tightened his grip like he might crush Eun-jo’s fingers.
“I told you not to get involved. Who asked you to go this far?”
“I wanted to.”
At that blunt reply, Tae-seok stared at him for a long moment. His lips moved like he was about to say something, but then he finally muttered:
“…What does that even mean?”
“I don’t want you to suffer. I want to protect you.”
“……”
“To hold your hand like this—so it doesn’t hurt.”
Eun-jo wove their fingers together even tighter. Tae-seok let out a stifled breath, clearly holding something back. But he knew this wasn’t the place for it. After a long pause, he just shut his mouth.
Just like earlier, Jin Mu-seong strode back into the Center Director’s office, long legs covering the distance in a few steps. He was holding a small chip.
When he slid it into the playback console, the monitor on the wall came to life.
“Let’s rewind to the training session,” Park Joo-hee said.
Jin Mu-seong adjusted the controls. Inside the Observation Room, the researchers moved swiftly, and soon footage of Jung Tae-seok escorting Eun-jo appeared on the screen.
Eun-jo stood there, a little dazed, and bowed politely to Kim Min-jae. The man moved toward Team A’s section. And then—
“That bastard!”
Jung Young-soo shot up from his seat and slammed the table.
On the screen, Kim Min-jae had grabbed Eun-jo by the collar and was shaking him violently. As if that weren’t enough, he began to strangle him.
Watching in silence, both Jung Tae-seok and Jin Mu-seong turned deathly cold.
Eun-jo didn’t even fight back. He just let his body dangle helplessly in Kim Min-jae’s grasp, crying and begging, his expression filled with despair like he’d given up on everything.
[I’ll give you the money… nngh… just let me take over as the Guide…]
[You better shut that mouth.]
[Isn’t that what you wanted…? Just the money…?]
Tae-seok couldn’t take his eyes off the screen.
Watching Eun-jo sob and beg—desperate, broken, still asking to do his Guiding—it made his stomach turn and his head throb.
What the hell had they done to him?
What had I done? What had our team done to Yeo Eun-jo…?
His breath caught. His whole body felt like it was burning from the inside out.
Fury, shame, regret—all of it surged up at once.
Jung Tae-seok’s vision went white with rage.
[Let go.]
[And what—you’re planning to go down there and Guide him?]
[What, you expect me to just stand here and watch?]
The one and only time Yeo Eun-jo bared his teeth—after enduring all the choking without a fight—was when he tried to run off to guide someone.
On screen, Eun-jo wrenched Kim Min-jae’s wrist and bolted. He looked frantic, like a man racing to save a dying soul.
It was like the floor dropped out from under Jung Tae-seok. His head turned slowly toward the table.
The second his rage-filled gaze locked on Kim Min-jae, Park Joo-hee shot to her feet.
“You fucking bastard!”
“Tae-seok!”
When their bodies collided, it was like stone smashing into stone. As Tae-seok lunged again, Park Joo-hee grabbed his shoulders, holding him back.
“You saw it too, Director! That piece of shit—!”
“Jung Tae-seok, get it together!”
“He choked a Guide! And I’m the bad guy for hitting him? Fuck off!”
For the first time in his life, Tae-seok cursed the fact that his ability was healing. If he had psychokinesis, ice, fire—anything else—he’d have burned that bastard alive.
As he braced to lunge again, Park Joo-hee yelled over her shoulder.
“Director!”
That finally stirred Jung Young-soo from his stunned daze. He moved quickly, pulling Kim Min-jae away and putting distance between him and the others.
“Haah…”
“So what if I get suspended? I’ll take the hit. I just wanna beat the shit out of him!”
Kim Min-jae trembled, shrinking back like Tae-seok might kill him on the spot. Even though there was nowhere left to run, he kept stumbling backward, mumbling.
“N-no, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to…”
His back hit the wall, and he glanced around in a panic.
Everyone was looking at him like he was scum. Park Joo-hee. Jin Mu-seong. Even Jung Young-soo, the Guide Center Director who should’ve been on his side.
What the hell did I do that was so wrong?
All he did was help with Team A’s Guiding. Eun-jo wouldn’t have been able to handle it on his own anyway—he would’ve asked for help eventually.
I worked. I got paid. That’s how it works.
So what if he took a little extra? It was just compensation. The more he justified it, the more wronged he felt.
Avoiding Tae-seok’s eyes, he glared at the one he thought had started it all.
“This—it’s your fault! You’re the one who provoked me back then—!”
Just as he screamed for someone to make this all go away, Eun-jo—who’d been standing still—suddenly swayed.
“Hhhk…”
It was barely a sound, but Jung Tae-seok froze like time had stopped.
Right in front of him, Eun-jo coughed up blood.
Bright red trickled from his lips.
“Hyung!”
“Guide Yeo Eun-jo!”
Before either of them could reach him, Jin Mu-seong stepped in and caught Eun-jo as he collapsed.
Eun-jo had fainted cold. A couple of bankbooks fell from his pants pocket—the ones he’d prepared ahead of time for this exact moment.
Like it was all planned, Jin Mu-seong lifted them with telekinesis. The floating bankbooks gently landed in Jung Young-soo’s hands.
“Bankbooks…?”
“Seems your Guide handled all the money himself.”
“……”
“Looks like the Guide Center’s just as rotten. Didn’t think it was this deep.”
Like he was done with the place, Jin Mu-seong turned and carried Eun-jo out of the room.
Jung Tae-seok followed immediately after.
That left only three people in the room.
And then Park Joo-hee walked out too, leaving the rest in silence.
Jung Young-soo flipped through the bankbooks in a rush.
The numbers inside were pitiful—nowhere near what a Team Guide should’ve been making. No training pay. No hazard pay.
The records were blatantly suspicious. Anyone could see it.
Jung’s hand trembled as he clutched the bankbook.
“Director, wait—this isn’t what it looks like! I can explain everything!”
“Kim Min-jae.”
He couldn’t afford to lose any more face in front of the Esper Center Director.
Swallowing his fury, Jung Young-soo threw the bankbook at him.
“This will be handled properly—by the Disciplinary Committee.”
“D-Director, please!”
“All the money you embezzled? It’s getting seized. You’ll repay every won, plus the debt you owe.”
“……”
And then he delivered the blow that would hurt Kim Min-jae the most—the one who once dreamed of being Team A’s official Guide.
“You’re banned from the Central Center. As of today, you won’t be allowed back in. Not for a single minute.”
Thud.
Kim Min-jae’s heart dropped like a stone.
He collapsed to the ground, legs giving out beneath him.
Jung Young-soo didn’t spare him another glance. He rubbed his face with both hands, exhausted.
Forget Park Joo-hee. The rot inside had to be cut out first.
Eun-jo was still his responsibility—a Guide under his protection.
He tapped his pager and made a call.
The moment the line connected, his voice was sharp and fast.
“Pull everything. Yeo Eun-jo’s card history, bank accounts, salary, vacation records—turn it all inside out.”
If Eun-jo had been there to hear it, he probably would’ve smiled. Satisfied.
