Jung Tae-seok.
The man who’d taken Yeo Eun-jo’s first time—an effortlessly handsome guy with soft features and hair the color of spun gold.
He was the kind of man who made people do a double take. With a face that could stop traffic and the rare “Healing” ability as an Esper, it was impossible for him not to be popular. On top of that, he was S-Rank—the highest possible rank.
Yeah, but so what? The guy’s a total ass.
Eun-jo clicked his tongue, remembering how Jung Tae-seok had chucked a box of tissues at him the night before.
Not that he’ll get away with it for much longer.
Let him enjoy it while it lasts. He was definitely going to regret that tantrum.
Humming cheerfully, Eun-jo rolled out of bed and made his way to the cabinet. He pulled out a navy shirt and matching pants that looked like a Guide uniform.
It was similar to the one Jung Tae-seok had worn yesterday—but not quite the same. While Esper uniforms focused on mobility, this outfit felt more like a tailored suit. The fabric clung just right, highlighting Eun-jo’s slim but defined build.
Once fully dressed, Eun-jo stood in front of the cabinet mirror and gave himself a once-over.
Well, at least the face is the same. That’s a relief.
Whether it was some kind of possession buff or something else, his face was exactly how it had looked before he died.
Meeting his own gaze, Eun-jo smiled. His crescent-shaped eyes curved sweetly, and his lips curled into a neat, flawless arc. Dimples popped in both cheeks, softening his features with an innocent charm. It was the kind of smile that didn’t belong to a man’s body—pure, naïve, untouched.
And yet, a smile like that—one that seemed completely unaware—was often far more dangerous than anything overtly seductive. People had a strange instinct: show them a clean, white canvas, and they’d want to ruin it.
“Hmm.”
He let out a thoughtful hum and closed the cabinet.
Guess I should head to the training grounds first…
To reel Jung Tae-seok in, he’d need to find the training facility. The problem was… he didn’t know where anything was—not the dorms, not the training center, nothing.
Left with no choice, he decided to just stare out the window and wait for Jung Tae-seok to pass by.
That’s when he locked eyes with a man in the same navy uniform. The guy glanced at him with a puzzled look, and Eun-jo smiled sweetly, eyes crinkling.
Move along.
A silent cue to keep walking.
Whatever message he picked up from that smile, the man turned and started walking away. But just as he took a few slow steps—
Something big suddenly blocked Eun-jo’s view.
The door burst open without warning, and crack—his forehead smacked right into it.
“Ugh,” Eun-jo groaned, clutching his head with both hands as he turned to glare at the uninvited guest.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Jung Tae-seok loomed over him, his face scrunched in obvious irritation.
Normally, Jung Tae-seok wouldn’t be caught dead near the Guiding Room. But he couldn’t get Eun-jo’s face out of his head—that pale expression, the silent tears slipping down his cheeks the night before.
So against his better judgment, he went looking for him.
What he found instead was Yeo Eun-jo standing by the window, exchanging looks with another Esper. That alone was enough to set him off.
His stare turned ice-cold.
“So what now? You’ve moved on to Espers from other teams?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Oh, no?” Jung Tae-seok folded his arms, tilting his chin in that condescending way of his. “Or were you just in the mood for some early-morning skinship?”
“Jung Tae-seok!”
“If your ass was feeling that desperate, you should’ve said something. Hyung.”
“……”
“I would’ve gladly stuffed something in there.”
Eun-jo, face drained of all color, grabbed onto Tae-seok’s sleeve. He opened his mouth to explain—to say that wasn’t what was happening—but before he could get the words out, Jung Tae-seok smacked his hand away.
The slap echoed through the Guiding Room, sharp and loud.
“Don’t touch me.”
Eun-jo clutched his stinging hand, and Jung Tae-seok walked out without another word.
Eun-jo scrambled to follow, hurrying after him down the hall. The sound of his footsteps was irritating, but Jung Tae-seok didn’t bother turning around.
What, did he swallow poison this morning?
Yeo Eun-jo had always been like a doll—motionless, quiet. Whether it was during sex or a simple Guiding session, he’d sit there like a machine: do what was needed and disappear.
That emotionless, mechanical version of Eun-jo had already gotten on his nerves.
But now? Sniffling, trailing behind him like a kicked puppy? That wasn’t any better.
Still, Eun-jo hesitated beside him, his face full of unease. Then he reached out, barely brushing his fingers against Tae-seok’s arm.
“Tae-seok…”
“……”
“Is it okay if… we don’t do the Guiding today?”
“……”
“Can I just… hold your hand…?”
His fingers made the faintest contact—and with it came a gentle warmth, a calm and soothing wave that flowed through him. His own turbulent wave patterns began to settle.
And that—that was what pissed Jung Tae-seok off most about Yeo Eun-jo.
When they finally reached the training center, Jung Tae-seok shoved Eun-jo into the observation room and slammed the door shut behind him before heading off to train.
What the hell am I supposed to do with this delicate little mess?
Jung Tae-seok had always hated Guides.
Most of them ignored Healing-type Espers entirely. The logic was simple: even if they lost control and tore their bodies apart, Healers could regenerate. So they were always pushed to the back of the line.
Jung Tae-seok was always the last to get Guiding.
And he’s S-Rank. The pain must be worse for him.
Hell, even he’d be pissed. Imagine your body was burning alive, and the firefighter kept saving everyone else first—every single time.
Anyone would lose their mind. How the hell am I supposed to train someone like him?
Eun-jo let out a sigh—just as someone called his name.
“Guide…Yeo Eun-jo?”
He turned to see a man standing among the researchers monitoring the training session. His name tag read Guide Kim Min-jae.
Another Guide?
Eun-jo gave a slight nod. “Hello.”
“…What brings you here?”
“I’m here for Jung Tae-seok’s training.”
When Eun-jo pointed toward the field where Tae-seok was in the middle of drills, Min-jae clamped his mouth shut. He looked like he was biting back several things he wanted to say.
His gaze scanned Eun-jo carefully, laced with suspicion, before he finally spoke.
“And why’s that?”
“Sorry?”
“What does Jung Tae-seok’s training… have to do with you?”
Eun-jo tilted his head, feigning confusion at the voice practically dripping with hostility. Oh? Playing innocent, he responded with a clueless expression that didn’t match the sharpness behind his eyes.
“Because… I’m the Guide for Team A?”
“Hah.”
Min-jae scoffed loud enough for the whole room to hear, then glared daggers at him. Without another word, he spun on his heel and stormed back to his seat.
Above his workstation, the label Team A Guide was boldly displayed. So that was it. Every time there had been a training session, this guy had swooped in and claimed the Guiding role for himself.
Now, acting like he owned the place, Min-jae had spread his belongings across the surrounding chairs—tumbler, bag, the whole nine yards—and glued his eyes to his phone. A clear signal: Don’t talk to me. I’m done.
Wasn’t he in the novel too?
The name rang a bell.
Ah.
A soft breath escaped Eun-jo. Kim Min-jae—that was it. He was the supporting character who’d harassed Park Hee-won relentlessly at the beginning of the novel, right after Hee-won had been assigned as Team A’s official Guide.
Even when Yeo Eun-jo had held the title, Kim Min-jae had constantly snatched up every single training session. No one had told him to—he’d just intercepted all the calls meant for the Team A Guide and took them for himself.
And he didn’t stop there.
He’d also funneled all the extra perks—special allowances, training fees—into his own pocket. Everything meant for Eun-jo.
Didn’t he also try to sabotage Park Hee-won every chance he got?
He used to lie straight to the faces of Team A’s Espers. Said things like, “Park Hee-won doesn’t like doing Guiding, so I’m helping out,” all while playing the role of the considerate backup.
If he’d done that to Park Hee-won, he’d definitely pulled the same stunt on Eun-jo, too.
Eun-jo’s gaze turned ice-cold as he stared at Min-jae.
But more infuriating than any of that was how Min-jae treated Jung Tae-seok during Guiding.
“He’s not dying. I’ll get around to it eventually.”
“His heart’s still beating, isn’t it? Stop overreacting…”
“Espers these days are so dramatic. What, did someone put a gun to your head and force you to train?”
The things he’d said while Jung Tae-seok lay there, body mangled from overload, could fill an entire book—and none of them were kind.
And it’s not like he ever did proper Guiding, either. The guy was only marked as A-Rank because his uncle pulled strings to bump him up from B-Rank. Most of the time, he didn’t even bother—just slapped on a Guiding device and called it a day.
