Surviving meant being strong. For Yeo Eun-jo, who’d been tossed around the entertainment industry more times than he could count, this kind of situation was nothing new. He wiped every trace of displeasure from his face and slowly walked toward him.
“I’m sorry for causing concern.”
As Eun-jo bowed deeply at the waist, he felt the researchers around the Training Center shift their attention to him. No matter what happened next, they’d be witnesses. Making sure they could all hear him loud and clear, he continued.
“Up until now, I’ve been relying on you, Guide, because of my health…”
He flashed a bright smile, the kind that always earned praise from directors—a smile that lit up the room.
“But now, I’m ready to take over.”
“So Guide Yeo Eun-jo just gets sick and better whenever he feels like it, huh?”
“The meds worked wonders.”
Eun-jo answered the snide remark with a light chuckle, completely unfazed.
“My primary doctor said I’m good to Guide as much as I want now.”
“……”
“Oh, right. The other teams don’t have private doctors, do they? My bad.”
Pretending it was an innocent slip, he covered his mouth with both hands. Kim Min-jae’s face turned red. A dry laugh slipped from his lips.
“Let me guess—you heard something about money. Hate to break it to you, but you’re too late.”
Finally losing his temper, Kim Min-jae stood up and gave Eun-jo’s shoulder a few rude, dismissive taps.
“Even if you want the money back, tough luck. I already signed the contracts—house, car, everything.”
“…Money?”
Hearing that he’d made enough to buy a house and a car made Eun-jo’s blood boil. If he’d pocketed that much, the least he could’ve done was provide proper Guiding. Swearing silently to himself, Eun-jo exhaled slowly through gritted teeth.
“That doesn’t matter. I’ll be handling the training from now on.”
“So now you’re trying to take my spot?”
His sarcastic tone drew everyone’s attention. The hand still resting on Eun-jo’s shoulder slid upward, and Kim Min-jae gave him a mocking flick to the forehead.
“You?”
“……”
“You seriously think you’re qualified to act like Team A’s Guide?”
“…I’m sorry.”
“So you want the title and the money? You want to take it all?”
His shove against Eun-jo’s forehead grew rougher. Just as the researchers looked ready to intervene, Eun-jo tilted his head ever so slightly.
An angle perfectly chosen—hidden from both the researchers and the ceiling-mounted cameras. Only Kim Min-jae could see his face. Eun-jo stepped in close and murmured under his breath, voice low and laced with warning.
“That position… was never yours to begin with.”
A smirk twisted up one corner of Eun-jo’s mouth.
“What the fuck did you just say?”
Kim Min-jae snapped. In a flash, he grabbed Eun-jo by the collar and slammed him into the wall. The hard surface hit Eun-jo’s back with a thud.
“Say that again. Not my spot, huh?”
“Guide Kim Min-jae!”
“Sir! You can’t do this here!”
The researchers shouted in a panic, but Kim Min-jae wasn’t listening. His hands stayed locked tight. Eun-jo’s feet lifted off the ground as his airway began to constrict.
It hurt, of course it did—but having played every kind of role from action to noir, Eun-jo knew exactly how to take a hit. He also knew how to make it look ten times worse.
Putting on a strained, agonized expression, Eun-jo reached up and gently laid his hands over Kim Min-jae’s.
“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…?”
Eun-jo tilted his chin up—subtle, but deliberate. Just enough for the cameras and the researchers to clearly see the red handprint blooming across his pale neck.
Clutching Kim Min-jae’s wrists with trembling fingers, Eun-jo let his voice tremble with desperation. The finishing blow.
“You can have the salary too… please…”
You fucking piece of shit! That was the last straw. Seeing Eun-jo playing innocent sent Kim Min-jae over the edge. He lunged at him with blind fury.
“Guide Kim Min-jae!”
The researchers rushed in, grabbing both his arms.
“Calm down!”
He looked ready to swing, but they held him back just in time. Meanwhile, Eun-jo’s wide eyes darted dramatically before he collapsed to the floor, hands cradling his head.
It was a perfect picture—undeniably clear who the victim was.
A few of the researchers met his gaze with pity in their eyes.
“Are you okay? Did you get hurt anywhere?”
Shaking like a frightened baby deer, Eun-jo gave a timid nod.
“Yes… I’m okay…”
“I’m telling you, he’s faking it! Did no one hear what that bastard said to me?!”
Kim Min-jae’s voice rang out, livid, but not a soul responded. Maybe he should’ve tried building some goodwill when he had the chance.
Watching the researchers now glaring at Kim Min-jae with open hostility, Eun-jo chuckled inwardly.
Oops.
His lips twitched. As he raised a hand to cover his mouth, one of the researchers misread the gesture and patted his back gently.
“Don’t cry, Guide Yeo Eun-jo… Can we reach Team A’s leader?”
“They’re away on a business trip. What now?”
“Let’s at least leave a message—and notify the Center, too…”
The researchers whispered among themselves, trying to calm him down. Eun-jo quietly listened… then flinched.
The Team A leader? Right now…?
A character who wasn’t part of the plan had just entered the scene. The moment Eun-jo, caught off guard and forgetting to keep up the act, looked up at the researcher in confusion, a deafening siren blared from the waiting room wall.
He turned his head and saw the warning lights spinning furiously. In the Training Center, that alarm only meant one thing: an Esper’s vitals had surged.
But no one was reacting. No one rushed to fetch the Guiding equipment. No one radioed for backup. Everyone moved with unsettling calm.
What the hell is going on…?
That’s when a roar echoed from below—raw, guttural, almost inhuman. It wasn’t a scream. It was a beast’s cry.
Recognizing the voice instantly as Jung Tae-seok’s, Eun-jo moved to bolt—but Kim Min-jae’s hand clamped tightly around his wrist.
“Let go.”
“And what—you’re planning to go down there and Guide him?”
“What, you expect me to just stand here and watch?”
Kim Min-jae scoffed, lips twisting with contempt.
“Funny, coming from the guy who couldn’t even bother to look at him before.”
BOOM. BOOM. Explosions rocked the floor, each blast followed by tremors. Panic kicked in. Eun-jo twisted Kim Min-jae’s wrist hard and broke free.
“Agh—!”
He took off, shoving the door open and sprinting down the hallway.
“Guide Yeo Eun-jo!”
“It’s dangerous down there!”
Voices called after him, but Eun-jo didn’t stop. He bounded down the stairs three at a time, heart hammering, mind racing with everything he knew about Jung Tae-seok.
In the original story, Jung Tae-seok was a healing-type Esper. Because he could self-regenerate, no one ever worried about him.
That’s the key.
Winning someone over was simple. You gave them what they lacked. In the novel, Park Hee-won had captured Jung Tae-seok’s heart because—out of everyone—he was the only one who had ever truly worried about him.
A fragile Guide who cares for Jung Tae-seok.
Eun-jo’s expression shifted. His cheeks were flushed from the run, and the calm glint in his eyes had turned watery and red, like he might break down any second. He crafted the perfect sorrowful look—one so full of concern it would make anyone watching ache.
As he ran into the Training Center, he shouted:
“Jung Tae-seok!”
The space was designed to mimic a crumbling old city—worn-out homes, twisted alleyways like a maze. Amidst the drab rooftops, one had been completely blown away.
He made a beeline for it. His legs wobbled, his chest burned from exertion. It was obvious he wasn’t used to physical activity—but none of that mattered.
Turning a corner, he finally spotted Jung Tae-seok slumped against a wall. As Eun-jo approached, Tae-seok slowly raised his head at the sound of footsteps.
“……”
“……”
Eun-jo instinctively froze. This wasn’t part of the plan—it was a gut reaction.
Bloodshot, feral eyes raked over him like a starving predator eyeing prey. That wasn’t the gaze of a man looking at another man. It was hunger—pure and dangerous.
Jung Tae-seok licked his lips. He knew—just touching a Guide was enough to relieve the pressure. That knowledge only made the craving worse. If he pushed Eun-jo down, pinned him by that narrow waist, forced those legs apart…
In his mind, he stripped him slowly, piece by piece.
Then he blinked, squeezing his eyes shut as if trying to hold onto what little reason remained.
The last thread of sanity kept him rooted in place. A hoarse voice rasped out from his throat.
“Why are you here, hyung?”
Eun-jo, frozen until now, slowly parted his lips.
“…Why do you think? I’m a Guide. I came to Guide you.”
“I don’t need it.”
Jung Tae-seok clenched his jaw and looked up at the control room, forcing his gaze away from the overwhelming urge to mount him right then and there.
