The work at the regional center was leisurely. In the mornings, Eun-jo sat in on training sessions. In the afternoons, he occasionally met with newly awakened Espers who had signed up for counseling. That was about it. Though Park Se-yul often rearranged his afternoon schedule on a whim, it didn’t bother Eun-jo much.
Kim Dan-seop, the supervisor, didn’t seem to mind either. In fact, he looked like he wanted the two members of Team A to stick around, even if it meant keeping things loosely scheduled.
Thanks to that, Eun-jo’s mornings were wide open. As he walked down the hall after a class, he checked the time. Lunch break. The moment he remembered he was supposed to meet Park Se-yul, a familiar dull ache throbbed in his lower back—like clockwork.
Groaning, he rubbed the spot and made his way toward the park. It was a tiny strip of green wedged in the middle of the center—so small, the word “park” felt like an exaggeration.
Still, it’s better than nothing.
Back when he was drowning in back-to-back appointments, he didn’t even get sunlight. He’d leave before dawn and get home past midnight.
Stretching his limbs, Eun-jo looked around. When he saw that Park Se-yul hadn’t arrived yet, he sank onto a bench. Since their first encounter at this center, Park Se-yul hadn’t pushed him to his limit again. He’d probably show up soon.
Eun-jo let himself relax, drifting into idleness—
“Is that him?”
“That guy from Team A?”
“He looks like some freeloading slacker.”
The low hum of gossip reached his ears. When he opened his eyes, he spotted a group gathered nearby. Among them was a face he recognized.
Kim Min-jae. He looked smug, clearly enjoying himself. Arms crossed, he leaned in to whisper to the other Espers, sneaking glances at Eun-jo every few seconds.
Tch.
A bitter chuckle escaped him.
What is this, high school? You still playing bully?
Eun-jo shut his eyes again, pretending not to notice. But soon, footsteps approached—and then, flick—a sharp snap against his forehead.
“Argh!”
Eun-jo clutched his forehead and shot up. In his line of sight was a pair of standard-issue Esper pants.
Looking up, he saw a bulky Esper standing over him. The guy must’ve been a gym rat before his manifestation—his build was solid. If Eun-jo hadn’t already met Jin Mu-seong, he might’ve actually been impressed.
“You Yeo Eun-jo?”
The man looked him up and down, slow and deliberate, then gave a smug tilt of his chin.
“Heard you spread your legs to snatch that Team A Guide position.”
“……”
“With a rep like that, shouldn’t you be putting out here too? What, not even a taste? Not even a sample spoon?”
The man wiggled his pudgy pinky in the air and burst into laughter. The other Espers around him laughed too, like they were watching a comedy show.
It wasn’t even worth responding to. Without sparing them a glance, Eun-jo stood up to leave—but one of the Espers grabbed his wrist.
“What, too good to answer? You think only Team A counts as real Espers?”
“…Ha.”
A sigh slipped through his lips. Eun-jo had figured Kim Min-jae would pick a fight eventually, but he hadn’t expected something this petty. They were both Guides. And Kim had worked longer at the Central Center.
Frozen in place, Eun-jo didn’t say a word. But the guy grabbing him seemed to think he’d backed down, and his voice grew louder.
“No wonder you stole Min-jae’s spot.”
“You’ve got it all wrong. I was the original Team A Guide. Guide Kim Min-jae was just the substitute.”
He couldn’t stay silent anymore. Yanking his arm free with a sharp twist, Eun-jo spoke coldly.
“There’s nothing to steal from a stand-in.”
“What did you just say?!”
Kim Min-jae suddenly pushed through the crowd. Unlike his plain look back at the Central Center, he was now decked out like he was ready for a runway. A stand-in? His eyes flared with rage as he stormed toward Eun-jo.
“What do you mean, ‘stand-in’? You should be thanking me for filling your empty seat!”
Kim Min-jae had been fuming ever since his transfer to the regional center. He hadn’t been able to sleep properly, not with his embezzled assets being seized one by one. In his mind, he’d done nothing wrong—just helped that idiot Yeo Eun-jo and taken a little compensation for his trouble. But now everyone was treating him like garbage.
And all that resentment? He aimed it squarely at Eun-jo. Blaming the Guide was a lot easier than pointing fingers at the Center Director or Park Se-yul. Simpler. Safer.
He’d convinced himself that everything that had gone wrong in his life was Eun-jo’s fault. And now, that belief had curdled into pure, obsessive rage.
“If it weren’t for me, everyone would be dead! They all died because you couldn’t be bothered to show up at the training grounds!”
Kim Min-jae’s voice cracked as he shouted, eyes wild, veins bulging.
“You don’t even have the decency to say thanks, you little shit—standing there in front of the surveillance camera like you wanted to get caught—!”
Pfft.
A soft snort slipped from Eun-jo’s lips. Kim Min-jae froze, eyes narrowing.
“You laughing at me?”
“So what? Did I fake the footage or something?”
“Wha—what are you even talking about?!”
“I’m saying, did I make you do something you never did?”
He hadn’t doctored the video. He hadn’t inserted anything that wasn’t real. All he’d done was provoke him—a little nudge. Everything else had been Kim Min-jae’s choice.
Eun-jo met his eyes, voice sharp and even.
“You brought this on yourself. This is your mess. Your karma.”
That did it.
Snapping, Kim Min-jae lunged. The unexpected hit knocked Eun-jo to the ground with a heavy thud. His head slammed hard against the floor, and pain bloomed through his skull.
Before he could recover, the Esper who had mocked him earlier climbed on top of him. A massive hand wrapped around Eun-jo’s throat, cutting off his air.
“Ghk…!”
“Say it again, asshole!”
Kim Min-jae stood nearby, practically foaming at the mouth.
“Crush his damn throat!”
“If I go harder, I might really hurt him.”
“So what? You want to lose your damn Guiding privileges?”
The Esper didn’t answer. Instead, his hand squeezed tighter.
If you choke someone, they can’t fucking speak, Eun-jo thought bitterly, struggling to breathe. He locked eyes with the guy pinning him down.
“I said—press harder!”
At Kim Min-jae’s command, the Esper raised his other hand, ready to strike. But in that split second, Eun-jo acted.
He grabbed the hand around his throat—and pulled the Esper’s face down to his.
“Hngh…!”
Their lips met—not a kiss, more like a hard, desperate grind. And then Eun-jo shoved his tongue in.
Revulsion shot through him immediately.
A surge of high-intensity Guiding energy flowed from Eun-jo into the Esper, locking the man’s body up like stone. Eun-jo swept his tongue through the man’s mouth once, then bit down—hard—on his lower lip. Blood mixed with spit.
Only then did the Esper flinch back, lips torn away.
“Ptui.”
Eun-jo spat the bloody saliva onto the ground, face twisted in disgust like he’d swallowed something rotten.
“Want me to take your spot here, too?”
“……”
“Looks like I already did.”
He tilted his chin toward the Esper still straddling him. The man sat frozen, eyes wide, limbs stiff with shock.
It was his first time experiencing a high-grade Guiding. And with Jung Tae-seok’s Imprint altering the energy’s nature, the effect had been overwhelming.
