Inside the transparent vial, a swirl of blue liquid shimmered. Lee Haru gave a slight nod.
Kang Min, ever courteous, unscrewed the cap and handed it to him. The moment Haru took a sip, the cut on his tongue healed instantly.
Unable to fully hide his embarrassment, Lee Haru wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. The moment he realized the dampness he felt was not from the potion but tears, his face turned crimson.
“Ah… but, what brings you to my room…?”
He hesitated as he rose, meeting Kang Min’s gaze. Due to the height difference, his head tilted back automatically.
“I need to receive Guiding today. My Rampage Risk Index is currently at sixty-one.”
“What?”
He had heard that even an index of fifty was painful enough to endure.
Though symptoms varied by Esper, most experienced worsening side effects as the index rose—headaches, fever, nausea, insomnia, fatigue, sensory disturbances, and cognitive dysfunction were all common.
It was all detailed in The Essential Guidebook for Guides, a manual he had skimmed through before arriving at the mansion. He had found it tucked away on a bookshelf in the study at home.
The maximum value on the Espers’ watches was one hundred, but realistically, once the number exceeded seventy, the Association would immediately isolate the Esper in a specialized facility.
“You have been enduring it all this time?”
At this level, the one who should have received Guiding first upon his arrival was not Hong Seong-jun—but Kang Min.
There was no way the index had spiked overnight.
“I heard Guiding is only conducted on the living room sofa. Is that correct?”
Instead of responding, Kang Min simply gestured toward the open door. The subtle distancing in his behavior made Lee Haru instinctively nod.
Had he already started to feel a sense of duty as a Guide?
The moment he heard “sixty-one,” his mind filled with a single thought: I need to lower it as soon as possible.
He walked beside Kang Min down the long hallway toward the living room. The space was silent.
There was no sign of Hong Seong-jun or Yu Je-hyun. They might have gone out or were upstairs, but either way, not a single trace of them remained.
“Please, have a seat.”
Lee Haru sat down first on the spacious sofa and gestured to the spot beside him. Kang Min sat down with an unreadable expression.
Turning slightly toward the side where the sofa had sunken under Kang Min’s weight, Haru extended both hands.
“Your hand, please.”
At his request, Kang Min studied him briefly, then obediently extended his right hand.
What beautiful hands.
It was not that they looked feminine—they were simply stunning in their own right. Long, smooth fingers stretched out elegantly, the pale pink tint of his nails adding to the overall grace.
Strangely, saliva began to pool in Haru’s mouth. His throat bobbed noticeably.
He could feel Kang Min’s gaze tracing along his features.
Still holding that smooth, soft hand in both of his, Lee Haru closed his eyes.
He had a gut feeling that if he kept looking at Kang Min’s face or his hand, something inside his chest might start to go haywire.
That strange tension from earlier in the room—it was starting to return.
The Guiding flow is stable. That is a relief.
Fortunately, the Guiding itself was going smoothly. The hunger that always crept in during long sessions was still there, though.
Having skipped meals, passed out drunk, and then started Guiding right after waking—it was no wonder the hunger felt unbearable.
Just hang in there a bit longer. Once this is done, I will eat something really good.
He had already made a fool of himself in front of Kang Min. The last thing he wanted was to look pitifully hungry, too.
While Lee Haru tried to suppress the growling in his stomach and focused on the flow of energy, Kang Min continued to take in his harmoniously sculpted, pale face.
A flicker of something unreadable passed through his deep-set eyes.
That was when Kang Min’s grip on Haru’s hand subtly tightened.
A faint crease appeared between Haru’s brows, which had been smooth until now. Even as sweat gathered on Haru’s forehead, Kang Min’s expression remained unchanged.
With a quiet gaze, he looked at Haru’s face, then checked the Rampage Risk Index displayed on his watch.
The rate is accelerating.
It was only natural—what flowed from Lee Haru into him was a staggering amount of Guiding energy.
At this level, it was on par with the rate seen during sexual Guiding. And Kang Min, who typically disliked excessive physical contact with Haru, found the situation quite agreeable.
“Hnn… ngh…”
On the other hand, Lee Haru was visibly struggling. Beads of sweat that had formed on his forehead now rolled down his flushed skin like droplets.
His parted lips trembled, and his voice emerged fractured and strained.
This is usually how newly awakened Guides perform their sessions…
But Lee Haru had already been a Guide for three years. For someone of his experience to release Guiding energy so recklessly—to the point of seeming almost ignorant—made no sense.
And yet, watching him now, he looked more like a freshly awakened Guide than a seasoned veteran.
Could this be a side effect of his suicide attempt?
Even now, people affiliated with the Association could not help but whisper about Lee Haru whenever they gathered in small groups.
A rare S-Class Guide was already noteworthy—but Haru’s striking looks only added fuel to the fire. More than that, it was his obsession with S-Class Espers that stood out. He would go to shocking extremes, even slashing his own wrists without hesitation if it meant getting what he wanted. No one could call that behavior normal.
But that has nothing to do with me.
Kang Min had no personal interest in Lee Haru. His only intention was to make sure the man fulfilled his duties without issue, and to see him through the next six months without incident. That, Kang Min considered the bare minimum courtesy he owed.
“Aaah…”
Haru, his complexion steadily paling, suddenly slumped backward like a baby too weak to hold up his own head.
His hand went slack in Kang Min’s grip. Kang Min checked his watch.
The Rampage Risk Index had dropped to twenty-one. He had only planned to continue until it hit thirty, but it seemed that holding hands while Guiding had been more efficient than expected.
Or perhaps it was simply because Haru had poured out so much Guiding energy that he passed out.
Thunk—
Kang Min’s hand moved smoothly to cradle Haru’s delicate neck, supporting him as he gently lowered him onto the sofa. Haru’s chest heaved up and down with rapid, shallow breaths.
Kang Min pressed a hand to his forehead. A slight fever.
From inside his coat, he pulled out another recovery potion and placed it on the table.
There was still more than half left in the one Haru had taken earlier, but this was a gesture of repayment—for the Guiding he had just received.
“Would you eat with me?”
After every session, Haru always said something.
He would ask Kang Min to share a meal, to spend time together on a weekend, or even just to stay by his side for a while. Requests that, to Kang Min, were nothing but nuisances.
But if giving him a recovery potion in exchange meant avoiding those kinds of emotional entanglements, then Kang Min would have been fine receiving Guiding every day.
Haru did not need the compensation—the Association already paid him well for his participation. Still, every time Haru looked at him with those plainly affectionate eyes, it felt like a burden.
At least since arriving at the mansion, Haru had stopped clinging to him the way he used to. It was a relief.
Even so, Kang Min placed the extra potion on the table, just in case. A precaution.
After all, Haru had used up all his strength Guiding him to the point of unconsciousness. When he woke up, Kang Min wanted to avoid the possibility of another wave of personal, emotional requests.
Haru’s breathing was still uneven. Kang Min did not linger.
Without hesitation, he turned and walked away.
All that remained in the silence was the strained sound of Haru’s ragged breathing.
***
My heart hurts so much.
It felt like there was a tiny hole in his chest, a persistent ache that throbbed with every beat. He grimaced at the flood of emotion—feelings that did not even belong to him.
At least, he thought he was grimacing. He could not really be sure.
Right now, he was inside Haru’s body, experiencing the Guide’s emotions exactly as they were—raw, unfiltered, overwhelming.
And the hole kept growing. The pain swelling with it, expanding until it consumed his entire chest.
Who could hurt him this much?
Once again, without warning, Lee Haru’s memories surged into his mind. It happened during the Guiding session with Kang Min.
He had only closed his eyes to focus—but in that instant, the darkness was replaced by vivid color.
It happened so fast, there was no chance to reject it. No way to resist.
I love him so much. But it hurts. It hurts so much, I think I will die. It is unbearable. I cannot stand it.
Haru’s thoughts spilled into him, raw and desperate, as if they were his own.
In those memories, Haru’s gaze was always fixed on someone—just like before.
The face remained hidden.
All he could discern was that the man was tall, with broad shoulders—and even without seeing his face, the silhouette alone radiated unmistakable attractiveness.
