He hadn’t seen Jung Tae-seok in days.
Throughout his entire stay in the recovery room, not once had he caught even a glimpse of the man’s coat. He’d asked the occasional Center staff who came by, but the only answer he ever got was: “We’re not allowed to say.”
Probably Park Se-yul’s orders, he thought bitterly.
Even Lee Sang-heon, who dropped in now and then, kept his mouth shut. And Park Se-yul? He outright acted like he hadn’t heard the question. Bastards. Gritting his teeth, Eun-jo cursed them both under his breath.
If things were normal, Jung Tae-seok wouldn’t have left his side. He would’ve been right there, hovering and fussing like usual.
Eun-jo let out a sigh, eyes drifting to the empty auxiliary bed beside his. A staff member swapping out his IV glanced down at him.
“Is anything bothering you?”
“No…”
The staff in the treatment room weren’t from the Guide Center—they belonged to the research division. Maybe that’s why she didn’t know the rumors about him. Out of all the staff he’d met so far, she was one of the nicer ones.
She hesitated for a moment before cautiously speaking.
“Is it… because of your assigned Esper?”
His eyes flicked up at the word Esper, but he quickly masked the reaction and nodded.
“We got caught up in a Gate together. He was hurt pretty badly.”
“Oh…”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up and make you uncomfortable.”
Eun-jo lowered his gaze awkwardly, a faint smile playing on his lips. As his long lashes dipped low, casting shadows over his cheeks, a melancholy air settled around him.
“It’s just… he keeps reminding me of my youngest brother. I really adored him.”
Of course, there was no such beloved little brother. Maybe a useless idiot of a sibling, but definitely not one he adored.
Playing the part to perfection, Eun-jo bit down lightly on his lower lip, like even speaking was painful. His perfectly shaped lips quivered as if on cue.
“He passed away young… If he were still alive, he’d be around Tae-seok’s age now.”
“O-oh my…”
“That’s why I can’t sleep. I keep wondering if he’s in pain… if he’s okay…”
A man with a tragic backstory always beat out one with a perfect suit. Every time he cried, ratings would skyrocket. Eun-jo knew exactly how he looked—what kind of image he was projecting.
Tilting his head just enough to show the trembling of his lips, he looked up and met the staff member’s gaze.
“He’s not hurt… right?”
Her expression went blank as their eyes met—like a stray cat had just chosen her. That kind of inexplicable, irresistible feeling.
After a moment’s hesitation, the staff member seemed to make up her mind. She leaned in and whispered softly into his ear.
“Actually…”
Eun-jo’s eyes widened at what she said about Jung Tae-seok.
“What?”
My baby’s there?
“My precious boy is there?”
“…‘Precious boy’?”
“…That was my little brother’s nickname. He was so precious, like pure gold…”
Quickly tacking on a believable excuse, Eun-jo nodded toward her pocket.
“Do you think I could borrow your phone… just for a moment?”
For now, all contact was strictly forbidden—no calls, no summonings. Park Se-yul had confiscated everything: Eun-jo’s pager, his cell phone, anything that could be used to reach the outside.
So when the staff member offered her phone without hesitation, Eun-jo didn’t waste a second. He pulled a slip of paper from the drawer.
It was the note Jung Young-soo had left him. He dialed the personal number written on it without hesitation.
—“Hello?”
“Director, this is Guide Yeo Eun-jo.”
—“Ah, Guide Yeo Eun-jo!”
The voice on the other end lit up, warm and welcoming. He must’ve been waiting for this call all along.
They needed to confirm the Imprint immediately. With his resolve firm, Eun-jo got straight to the point.
“I’m ready for the interview. Could I request a visitation?”
***
Dark. Pitch black.
There wasn’t a single way to tell time in this room. No window, no light, not even furniture.
Just a freezing cold cement floor and one coarse blanket.
Jung Tae-seok didn’t even bother with the blanket. He sat still, hands cuffed in Esper-grade restraints, staring silently at the wall.
The air felt cold—not the kind that came from low temperatures, but the kind that came from absence. From the absence of Yeo Eun-jo.
This isn’t normal.
Why was he so obsessed with him?
Was it when Eun-jo first came running into the Training Center? Or when he showed up as their new team Guide? No… maybe it started long before that.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Guide Yeo Eun-jo.”
He remembered that awkward little bow, the way Eun-jo had peeked up at him shyly—hesitant, but so, so endearing.
That memory blurred, shifting to a different image. Not the shy first meeting—no, now Eun-jo’s cheeks were flushed, his eyes tightly shut.
It was inside the Gate.
His body dangled helplessly, entangled in vines like a marionette. Bite marks covered his skin, and his legs had been forced open to their limit.
Between those pale thighs, Tae-seok’s cock was driving in and out—frantic, uncontrollable.
Eun-jo had reached out for him.
“Tae-seok… ahh, Tae-seok-ah…”
The moment his trembling fingers touched Tae-seok’s cheek, guiding energy burst through the contact.
“Hnn… it doesn’t hurt anymore…?”
“Haa… yeah. Just like that. It feels good. Teacher!”
Eun-jo’s eyes softened, the corners lifting in pained relief.
“That’s a relief… ngh, it doesn’t hurt anymore.”
And just like that, as if everything was okay, Eun-jo had wrapped his arms around Tae-seok’s neck and whispered sweetly,
“It’s okay… It’s okay. I’ll stay right here with you.”
And the thrusting didn’t stop. Not even after Eun-jo passed out.
Tae-seok kept going. For a long, long time. The moment that memory hit, his chest clenched.
“I’m insane.”
He clutched his chest and muttered to himself. Yeah, no doubt about it. He was out of his mind. Otherwise, how could he have—
“How could I do that… to Eun-jo hyung.”
If he could’ve slammed his head into the wall and died right there, he would have.
Someone that precious… someone he didn’t even deserve to touch… How could he treat him like that?
That was why he hadn’t escaped. Even though he could walk out of this punishment cell anytime he wanted, he stayed. Because someone like him didn’t deserve to be anywhere near Yeo Eun-jo.
“Team leader was right about everything.”
He wasn’t just unfit for Team A—he wasn’t fit to be an Esper at all. Letting out a bitter laugh, Tae-seok turned his eyes back to the wall.
Clunk.
A sound echoed from beyond the door.
Someone was outside.
In this cell, not even a team leader or ordinary staff member could come in. That meant the person beyond that door had to be a Center Director or someone higher. Assuming it was the Esper Center Director, Tae-seok turned his head toward the opposite wall.
“Tae-seok-ah.”
At that moment, Jung Tae-seok’s gaze visibly wavered.
The figure outside the door didn’t budge, so maybe he thought the voice hadn’t carried. The person called out again, more insistently.
“Tae-seok-ah, it’s me. Hyung’s here.”
“……”
“You’re not even going to let me see your face?”
Crouched just outside the door, Eun-jo called again. “Tae-seok-ah.”
Only then did Tae-seok finally stir.
He stood and began walking toward the door, slowly. As he stepped closer, more of him came into view.
He was shirtless—who knew where his top had gone—and wore only his pants. His wrists were shackled with heavy Esper-grade cuffs, thick weights hanging from them.
His jawline had grown sharper, proof of the mental strain he’d been under. Paired with the restraints, it gave him a strangely raw, dangerous edge—one that bordered on seductive.
“Why are you here?”
He dropped to the floor with a heavy thud, muttering under his breath.
“Go. If they catch you here, you’ll get disciplined too.”
“Whether it’s once or twice, I’m already in,” Eun-jo murmured, jutting out his bottom lip. Tae-seok shot him a sharp glare, but it flicked away just as fast.
He didn’t intend to say anything more.
“Did you eat?”
“……”
“Get any sleep?”
“……”
“How long are they keeping you here? Was it the team leader who handed down the punishment?”
Tae-seok clenched his teeth.
Seeing Eun-jo’s clear, untroubled face on the other side of the bars, a wave of fury surged through him.
“That’s all you came here to ask?”
“I’m asking what I want to know. Is that a problem…?”
Eun-jo’s tone was cool, unfazed—as if it really was no big deal.
Tae-seok’s fists curled tight, veins standing out across the back of his hands.
