Even when Lee Haru could not clearly recall the culprit’s face from his memories, certain features had stood out unmistakably—the towering height, the broad shoulders, the strikingly handsome features discernible even through a blurred silhouette, and that rigid, clipped way of speaking.
There had been plenty of clues. But the Kang Min he had encountered firsthand did not seem like a terrible person. That impression had kept him from reaching a firm conclusion, leaving him mired in doubt.
Then why does he never reveal his true nature, even when we are alone?
That was the most perplexing part.
Ever since he had entered this body, everyone who had known the original Lee Haru had been alarmed by the drastic change. Even Yu Je-hyun, at first, had wondered aloud how a person could change so drastically overnight—he had even asked if Haru was on medication.
But no one had considered the possibility that a different soul had entered Lee Haru’s body.
They all assumed it was just a psychological shift, a personality change brought on by the trauma of a suicide attempt.
If Kang Min had truly been the one secretly tormenting Haru, he would have known him better than anyone.
Look at him now. He is just silently focused on driving.
In Haru’s memories, Kang Min was always violent, immersed in domineering, forceful sex.
There had been no trace of affection—only an overwhelming, almost feverish obsession in the way he moved, an intensity that bordered on madness.
Since arriving at the mansion, Haru had guided Kang Min only once—and even that was when his Rampage Risk Index had spiked dangerously high.
When Haru suggested guiding him just by holding hands, Kang Min had not shown the slightest resistance. On the contrary, he seemed almost pleased by the idea.
Though Haru had collapsed during that session, it was not because of Kang Min. It had been triggered by a sudden memory surfacing without warning.
Could it be… that another soul is inside Kang Min’s body too?
The thought came to him suddenly, but it made a surprising amount of sense. If that were not the case, how else could he explain this man’s unshakable stoicism?
“We have arrived.”
That voice, no matter how many times he heard it, always seemed to tighten like a fist in his gut. Only then did Haru realize that the car had already stopped in front of the mansion and he had been blankly staring out the window.
His gaze met Kang Min’s through the glass. Haru instinctively smiled, then hurried to unbuckle his seatbelt.
Kang Min waited until Haru got out first before following after him. As they walked from the garage toward the front door, Haru silently hoped his steps did not betray how stiff and uneasy he felt.
God, this is unbearably awkward.
Honestly, he had been happier cooped up alone in his hospital room, even if it had been boring. The weight of Kang Min’s presence behind him made him stumble a few times.
Only when they reached the front door did Haru realize something important—he still did not know the code to enter the mansion.
Instinctively, he raised his hand toward the digital lock, but the sound of approaching footsteps behind him made him freeze.
“123412.”
“…What?”
“The front door password.”
He was stunned twice—first, that Kang Min had offered the code so readily, and second, that the code itself was so simple even a child could memorize it instantly.
Pressed by Kang Min’s silent gaze, Haru reluctantly entered the six digits.
With a bright beep, the door unlocked. Of all times, his shoes decided to stick stubbornly to his feet, and he struggled to remove them as Kang Min walked past him into the house without hesitation.
Haru slipped into the indoor slippers and trailed after him like a child clinging to an adult. His thoughts were a jumbled mess—he almost wished Kang Min would just drop the act and show his true self already.
“Um… excuse me…”
It happened as they passed through a long hallway into a wide-open living room. A soft, hesitant voice stopped him in his tracks.
He turned toward the sound and spotted a familiar figure, curled up in a timid posture on a large sofa.
“Guide Ji Yeon-woo…?”
At the mention of his name, Ji Yeon-woo gave a small nod, his eyes filled with silent desperation.
How could I forget about Ji Yeon-woo?
It was obvious just from looking at him—he was the quintessential “main submissive,” bound to get entangled with the dominant characters. And yet Haru had completely forgotten about him while living comfortably in that spacious hospital room, eating well and resting without a care.
When Haru stood frozen and silent, just staring, Ji Yeon-woo lowered his head, looking like he was about to cry.
Seeing the way he shrank back, clearly terrified, snapped Haru out of his thoughts. He turned to Kang Min, assuming he must have some explanation for this.
“Guide Ji Yeon-woo will be staying here as well.”
Sensing Haru’s gaze, Kang Min gave a one-line summary of the situation. The complete lack of additional explanation was as cold as ever. Haru bit back his irritation, resisting the urge to show his disbelief.
“I will leave you two to talk. I will be back later.”
He was just going to leave the two of them alone in this awkward tension? Sure, Kang Min’s presence did not exactly make things better, but this still felt absurdly irresponsible.
Before Haru could protest, Kang Min turned and disappeared—like his only job had been to drop Haru off at the mansion and nothing more.
“It has been a while.”
Left with no choice, Haru walked over and sat beside Ji Yeon-woo on the sofa. Up close, Ji Yeon-woo looked even worse than he had back at Black.
His hair was a mess, his clothes looked borrowed and oversized, but despite all that, his refined features still glowed faintly beneath the disheveled exterior.
His cheeks were sunken, and dark shadows pooled beneath his eyes, like someone who had not had a proper night’s sleep in days.
But more than anything, it was his large, luminous eyes that stood out—swirling with anxiety, darting restlessly, unable to find focus.
“After… after you were dragged away like that…”
Ji Yeon-woo, who had been nervously entwining his fingers ever since Haru greeted him, finally spoke in a hesitant voice. A faint shimmer of tears clung to his brown eyes.
“I was really worried. I… I went through the same thing, that ‘initiation’…”
His words forced Haru to recall what had happened. That ordeal—no matter how mentally strong someone might be, it was not something easily endured.
He had been lucky. He had been rescued before anything truly happened. If he had been found after going through that so-called initiation, it could have been disastrous.
“That Esper earlier, he came to save me, and I… I tried to talk about you—no, about Haru hyung, but…”
Ji Yeon-woo’s voice faltered, thick with guilt he could not suppress.
“But I blacked out… Hhuek… I am really sorry…”
Heavy teardrops began to fall, sliding down his thin cheeks in quiet succession. Haru scratched at his cheek awkwardly, at a loss as he looked at Ji Yeon-woo, who seemed even more fragile than he had remembered.
There is nothing to apologize for.
It would be one thing if Ji Yeon-woo had deliberately stayed silent about him—but passing out was hardly something anyone could control.
Besides, he was here now, safe and unharmed.
“I am really fine. Nothing happened to me—I was rescued right away too. What about you, Yeon-woo? How have you been? Have you been staying in this mansion the whole time?”
The reason Haru had completely forgotten about Ji Yeon-woo was simple: Yu Je-hyun had never once mentioned him. Not just Ji Yeon-woo, but nothing about Black either.
If Ji Yeon-woo had been here all this time, Haru figured someone would have at least brought it up.
As that strange sense of disappointment twisted in his chest, Haru bit the inside of his lip. Ji Yeon-woo rubbed at his tear-soaked eyelids with the back of his hand.
Then, eyes reddened and shimmering, he met Haru’s gaze. Those soft, rabbit-like eyes made Haru forget his passing irritation and turn his full attention back to him.
“I only arrived here this morning… I was at the Association until then.”
Listening to Ji Yeon-woo quietly explain, Haru could not help but feel a pang of remorse.
While he had been relaxing in a private hospital room, Ji Yeon-woo had spent the past week in fear and chaos.
To someone who had been trapped in Black for so long, the outside world was terrifying. He had no family to return to, no friends, no familiar connections.
In a place full of strangers, the only name he knew was Lee Haru. So he asked for him.
“Guide Lee Haru is receiving treatment elsewhere.”
That was the reply he was given every time. Haru was undergoing treatment and could not be seen.
Haru suspected that the Association had kept them apart on purpose. His reputation likely had something to do with it.
A newly discovered S-rank Guide. Given Haru’s rumored obsession with the three S-rank Espers, the Association must have thought he would lash out at Ji Yeon-woo out of jealousy.
But now they had brought Ji Yeon-woo directly to where Haru was. The inconsistency in that decision was impossible to ignore.
Is this just part of the story’s narrative flow?
For emotional ties to develop between dominants and a submissive, constant interaction was essential. And living under the same roof was the most convenient setup for that.
“I am really glad you are safe… I was so scared something might have happened to you…”
Watching Ji Yeon-woo cry, his lashes soaked in tears, Haru gently reached out his hand. His fingers brushed against the soft strands of Ji Yeon-woo’s hair, which curled delicately around them.
Definitely the main bottom. He even cries beautifully.
It was rare to think of someone as beautiful when they were crying, but Ji Yeon-woo’s tear-streaked face was captivating—so much so that Haru found himself wanting to keep looking.
What a good story but sladly I’ll need to wait for the other chapter to open