When the four of them arrived, the local center was already in disarray. Alarms were blaring from every direction, and automated announcements kept urging everyone to remain on high alert. Rookie Espers, clearly overwhelmed, were running around in scattered groups, panicked and unsure of what to do.
Code Red. It meant A-rank or higher gates had opened across the country. The term existed, sure—but this was the first time it had ever actually happened. No one had been prepared for it. The entire place was in a frenzy.
Why is this happening now?
Eun-jo stood a step back from the chaos, watching the Espers with a detached gaze, as if it didn’t concern him. His thoughts turned to the novel. Code Red was supposed to be a late-novel event. Gates opened everywhere, forcing Team A Espers to push themselves to their limits—and in the midst of it all, the protagonist, a Guide, came to realize how deeply he loved them. It was a critical turning point.
The timing doesn’t add up…
Just as he was going over the story in his head, Park Se-yul stepped forward from the back. A man who looked like the director of the local center greeted him warmly.
“We can exchange pleasantries later.”
Park Se-yul brushed the greeting aside effortlessly, and Jin Mu-seong came up to stand beside him.
“Sorry, but could I leave my Guide in your care for a bit?”
“Your Guide…?”
“I mean Guide Yeo Eun-jo.”
At once, both Park Se-yul and Jin Mu-seong turned to look at Eun-jo. Expecting another fight, Eun-jo instinctively braced himself—but instead, the men just continued their conversation calmly.
The three of them spoke for a long time. In between, Park Se-yul kept busy communicating with people from the Central Center. Their faces were so composed, it was hard to believe they were the same ones who had just rammed a car, slapped a collar on him, and forced a ring onto his finger.
Unbelievable. Seriously. They’re the ones who should’ve been actors.
Still dazed, Eun-jo felt someone tug on his sleeve.
“Huh?”
He turned at the sound of a low growl—and found himself face-to-face with a massive dog. The moment their eyes met, its tail started spinning like a helicopter blade.
“Lee Sang-heon?”
“Woof!”
As soon as Eun-jo called his name, Sang-heon huffed excitedly, his tail wagging even faster. Then he started bumping into Eun-jo and spinning in wild, happy circles. What’s he doing here? Caught off guard, Eun-jo still instinctively reached out to pet his fur.
“What are you doing here?”
“Woof.”
“Did the team leader send you? When?”
“Woof!”
“You came from the Central Center?”
Had no one been petting him lately? His fur didn’t look as shiny as usual. Had he been getting proper Guiding? Eun-jo gently examined him, asking quietly, when Jung Tae-seok suddenly came over and yanked Sang-heon away with a scowl.
“Why’re you talking to a damn mutt who can’t even talk?”
It annoyed him—Eun-jo’s gentle tone, the way he only ever spoke like that to someone else. And it pissed him off even more that Lee Sang-heon was sneaking in a bit of Guiding. Tae-seok shoved the big dog’s sweet, dopey face away with his hand, clearly irritated.
“Why are you acting like this to him? You seriously think he’s some helpless puppy?”
Avoiding Tae-seok’s are-you-crazy stare, Eun-jo turned his head, refusing to meet his eyes. Tae-seok sighed, frustrated that Eun-jo wouldn’t even look at him.
“I’m leaving Lee Sang-heon here. Don’t let a single hair on his head get hurt.”
“……”
“If things get dangerous, throw him first and run. Don’t look back, got it?”
“You really have the nerve to say that… after the way you drove?”
Eun-jo narrowed his eyes in disbelief. Tae-seok froze at the sharp glare.
“That was…!”
“Tch.”
As Eun-jo turned away completely and continued running his fingers through Lee Sang-heon’s fur, Jung Tae-seok pulled both of Eun-jo’s hands toward himself.
“I’m sorry. I was wrong. Just… don’t get hurt.”
The anger was gone. All that remained was a mess of worry and reluctant regret. His eyes said it all: How am I supposed to leave you like this? He looked down at Eun-jo the way a parent might when dropping their child off at daycare for the first time—unsure, anxious, completely at a loss.
“I’d die without you. You know that, right?”
Just like earlier on the road, something ached deep in Eun-jo’s chest. He looked at Tae-seok, helpless, as if he didn’t know what to say or how to react. Tae-seok gently ran his fingers over the back of Eun-jo’s hand.
“Promise me you won’t get hurt.”
He was the one going through the gate, so why was he the one trembling like this? Why did Eun-jo care so much about someone like him?
With a low groan, Eun-jo threw his arms around him.
“You don’t get hurt either.”
“That’s not what I asked you to promise.”
“You never listen to anyone—so I’m doing the same.”
Eun-jo muttered and sank his teeth into Tae-seok’s shoulder.
“I’m doing whatever I want, too. If you come back injured again, forget Guiding—I’ll mash you up like one of your dumb rice balls.”
“…You still ate it though.”
Despite his grumbling, Tae-seok nodded softly.
“That’s enough of a reunion.”
Park Se-yul reappeared and walked over. Without missing a beat, he slipped an arm between the two of them and gently pried them apart.
“This is gonna take a while. Stay put and be good.”
Gone was the jealous glare from earlier. Now, he wore the face of a true leader—Team A’s captain. Standing straight and composed, he looked down at Eun-jo and pointed toward Lee Sang-heon.
“He’ll stay with you. I already notified the center.”
“…Everyone else is going, and I’m just supposed to stay here?”
If this really was the same gate as the one from the later part of the story, it could be resolved—but it would take time. And during that time, Park Se-yul and the others had gotten injured. The memory alone made Eun-jo’s chest tighten.
No. Panic flashed in his eyes as he cried out.
“I can help! I can do live Guiding, analyze gate activity—”
“No.”
Park Se-yul shut him down immediately, voice hard with authority.
“You’re staying. That’s final.”
“Team Leader!”
“We’ll be back when it’s done. Just sit tight and wait.”
His sharp gaze lingered for a moment before he brushed past Eun-jo.
“You’ve had plenty of practice waiting. Haven’t you?”
And with that, Park Se-yul and Jung Tae-seok left the center. Eun-jo stared blankly at their retreating figures before suddenly rushing over to Jin Mu-seong.
“Jin Mu-seong-ssi…! Please, let me—!”
The moment he grabbed his sleeve, Mu-seong leaned down. Close enough that Eun-jo could feel his breath. His head tilted, his jaw angling as if to kiss—but instead, his lips brushed along Eun-jo’s neck.
Then he bit down.
A deep, slow pressure—his teeth sank in deliberately, grinding into the skin. Eun-jo flinched at the sting.
“Ugh…!”
They both knew exactly what that meant. Staring at him, stunned, Eun-jo barely managed to process what just happened. Jin Mu-seong gave a low chuckle and pressed a soft kiss to the spot.
“You’re my lifeline now.”
“……!”
Earlier, it was a collar. Now it was a lifeline. As if to seal it, Mu-seong leaned in and kissed him once more—then pulled back and looked at Eun-jo’s neck.
A faint glow shimmered there—a perfect circular mark.
An Imprint.
Round and glowing with a soft, lovely pink… just like its owner.
A strange, overwhelming feeling swept through Jin Mu-seong’s entire body. More satisfying than when he hugged Eun-jo, more thrilling than when he forced the ring on his finger. This—this—felt like stamping a seal on something that was truly his. Honestly, even filing a marriage license wouldn’t have made him this happy.
“If I’d known it would feel like this, I would’ve done it a long time ago.”
Jin Mu-seong lifted Eun-jo’s hand and pressed a kiss to the ring, murmuring quietly.
“Shame it wasn’t the first.”
I should’ve been the first to recognize it. But there was no time left for regret. He kept his eyes on the glowing Imprint mark, unwilling to look away—then, with clear reluctance, turned and walked off.
Eun-jo stood there like a stone for what felt like ages before he finally stirred.
“Did he just…!”
Did he just Imprint me? The instant the realization hit, the blood drained from his face. Already pale, he turned ghost white. Behind him, Lee Sang-heon gently bit his sleeve and tugged him back, as if sensing the shift.
“Ugh…”
That makes three. Jung Tae-seok. Park Se-yul. And now Jin Mu-seong.
Eun-jo shut his eyes tight, then opened them again, overwhelmed.
“You’re going to collapse at this rate, Guide.”
Kim Dan-seop, who had been standing behind the center staff, stepped forward and supported Eun-jo’s arm.
“Guide, seriously—you need to sit down.”
He helped him over to a seat and disappeared briefly, returning with a bottle of water. He even opened the cap for him before placing it gently into his hands. The moment the cool plastic touched his skin, some clarity returned to Eun-jo’s vacant eyes.
“Mr. Kim…”
“Yes?”
“……”
Eun-jo paused for a moment, then asked in a quiet voice,
“Have you ever seen a Guide get Imprinted by three different Espers in your life?”
“Why? Did someone get Imprinted?”
He was kind and sincere—but completely oblivious. And for once, Eun-jo was grateful for that lack of awareness. Because there was no way he could bring himself to say it out loud:
That there were now three glowing Imprints burned into his skin.
