“Guide Ji Se-min… My god, what happened to you…?”
The moment he stepped into the hospital room, a stranger—speaking with startling familiarity—greeted Se-min with wide, worried eyes. He looked to be in his mid-to-late thirties, and Se-min was momentarily stunned to realize a grown man could wear such an exaggeratedly expressive face. He thought briefly that the man looked like a walking emoji.
“I was so shocked when I heard the news. Amnesia? And in the same way as Esper Sung Cha-hyeon, no less… How did this even happen? Ah, but—do you remember me?”
The man, voice thick with genuine concern, pointed to himself. Se-min let out an awkward laugh, plastering on an apologetic smile.
“No… I’m sorry.”
The man’s expression grew even more cartoonish with sympathy as he gently replied.
“Ah… So you must’ve just lumped me in with people related to Esper Sung. I’m Deputy Chief Jeong Jeong-ho. A retired Esper. I came on behalf of the Director after hearing what happened. You and I… we’ve known each other for nearly fifteen years.”
“Ah, I see… It’s nice to meet you, Deputy Chief.”
Se-min politely took the extended hand and bowed slightly. Despite the years they’d supposedly known each other, he treated the man like a complete stranger. Perhaps that’s why Jeong’s face twisted slightly with a mix of sympathy and emotion.
Deputy Chief Jeong patted the back of Se-min’s hand in a warm, almost fatherly gesture, then turned toward the corner of the room—where Cha-hyeon sat silently, looking like he was chewing glass. Cha-hyeon gave him a curt nod.
“You’re here.”
“Yeah… Esper Sung asked me to come as quickly as I could. This must be a lot for you.”
Jeong, who’d shown nothing but gentle warmth toward Se-min, now offered hollow condolences to Cha-hyeon with a perfectly blank expression. Cha-hyeon met it with a glare that all but screamed, What the hell do you think?
Watching this not-so-subtle power play between two grown men who were technically being polite, Se-min couldn’t help but flinch a little. Deputy Chief Jeong, unbothered, simply placed the heavy plastic bag he was carrying down onto the table.
“I brought something to eat. Thought it might make a good late-night snack. You’ve probably eaten already, but… I figured three guys could polish off a ‘medium’ jokbal set. This hospital is kinda famous for having the worst food, right?”
Jeong wasn’t wrong. Hospital meals here sat somewhere between “bland” and “downright disgusting,” so the sight of glossy jokbal and buckwheat noodles immediately made Se-min’s eyes sparkle. Besides, he was starting to feel a little hungry.
“Is this really the time to eat—?”
“Whoa, that looks amazing…”
It wasn’t intentional, but Se-min accidentally cut off Cha-hyeon’s comment. He quickly shot him a sideways glance, worried—but surprisingly, Cha-hyeon was also sneaking a glance at him.
“……”
Cha-hyeon’s throat bobbed. He licked his lower lip, turned his head, and said something entirely different from what he’d originally planned.
“…Do we need more Coke?”
Floating beside his face, visible only to Se-min, was a faint blue status window.
Current Favorability: -20%
“Ah, no. One big bottle should be plenty…”
Se-min’s voice trailed off, noticing Deputy Chief Jeong staring wide-eyed between him and Cha-hyeon.
“…Okay, then.”
Jeong’s gaze locked onto Cha-hyeon now, full of unspoken what-is-this-drama interest. Unable to take the scrutiny, Cha-hyeon turned away and started rummaging around for paper cups.
The reason Cha-hyeon had become so cautious around Se-min went back to a few hours earlier.
“Minus two. Current Favorability: 0%.”
-1
Current Favorability: -1%
“…Wait. It dropped again?”
It hadn’t taken long for Se-min to realize the floating Favorability window tracked his feelings toward Cha-hyeon.
Cha-hyeon was the only person around annoying enough to be dropping it, and once it slipped into the negatives, every time he opened his mouth, it fell even further.
It took losing seven points for Cha-hyeon to finally shut up. Feeling awkward, Se-min chose to quietly keep to himself.
In the meantime, Cha-hyeon had made a decision and sent Deputy Chief Jeong an urgent request to come as soon as possible. Se-min, curious about his own background, had looked up their names—only to discover that he and Cha-hyeon had been living together like family since he was five and Cha-hyeon was fifteen… and that they’d only publicly confirmed their relationship a few months ago.
Losing another thirteen Favorability points was pretty much inevitable.
***
“Thank you for the food!”
“Eat as much as you like, Guide Ji.”
Whether it was the presence of a third person, the long-awaited return of actual conversation, or simply the jokbal and noodles that Jeong had brought, the previously silent hospital room was finally filled with some life.
Late-night food always hits better after a depressing dinner, and this was no exception. Se-min had worried it might feel uncomfortable eating with both a distant Cha-hyeon and a stranger like Jeong, but he soon found himself relaxing and focusing on the meal.
Dipping pieces in salted shrimp, then spicy sauce, wrapping them in lettuce, slurping down noodles—it all added up. While Cha-hyeon just picked at his food, and Jeong kept handing him things with a pleased expression, Se-min got to eat his fill.
The food vanished in under twenty minutes. Just as Se-min let out a contented sigh after finishing the final piece—
Tsshh. A paper cup, filled to the brim with dark fizzy cola, slid toward him, pushed by long fingers with distinct knuckles.
“…Thanks, Hyung-nim.”
Se-min gave a polite nod and picked up the cup, expression unreadable. He gulped it down in a few swigs—and then came the alert.
+10
Current Favorability: -10%
Maybe good food really did lift your mood. Feeling slightly embarrassed, Se-min cleared his throat. Even if no one else could see it, the window still made him feel a little self-conscious.
“Deputy Chief, thank you. That was really good.”
“No problem. Glad to see you eating. But…”
Jeong, noticing that Cha-hyeon hadn’t poured drinks for anyone but Se-min, casually filled his own cup and trailed off, eyes flicking between Se-min—who now looked like a well-fed puppy—and Cha-hyeon, who looked like someone on the edge of a nervous breakdown.
“Se-min, did you just call Esper Sung ‘Hyung-nim’?”
Losing your memory was tragic, sure, but Jeong—knowing the full extent of their relationship—couldn’t help himself from leaning into the curiosity.
His eyes sparkled like he was watching his favorite drama. Meanwhile, the satisfied-puppy look on Se-min’s face shifted to something more like a dog that had suddenly gotten indigestion.
Se-min glanced at Cha-hyeon. Surprisingly, the man who’d been picking at his food the whole time now waited in tense silence, clearly interested in the answer. Was calling him Hyung really that strange?
“…Yes… I mean… he is older than me…”
“Ahhh… Hyyyung-nim, huh?”
Jeong’s voice was absolutely soaked in amusement as his gaze turned to Cha-hyeon. Cha-hyeon ignored him completely and cut in, calm as ever.
“You can just call me Hyung. You don’t have to be so formal.”
“Ah…”
Se-min trailed off awkwardly. Jeong, practically buzzing with energy, nudged him along cheerfully.
“Yeah! You used to just call him that before—no honorifics, no polite speech. Just talk to him casually, like you always did.”
Sure, maybe they’d been close enough to speak casually back then. But from Se-min’s current perspective, it felt like being told to casually call a stranger ten years older than him Hyung and speak in banmal.
“Haha… It’s still a little early for that… Maybe once we get a bit closer…”
Cha-hyeon’s face twisted even harder, like he’d just swallowed a lemon. Jeong, meanwhile, burst out laughing.
“Right? It is still a little early, huh? That’s what Esper Sung gets for rushing. From Guide Ji’s perspective, this is all just way too much.”
This time, Jeong backed Se-min up. Whether he was helping or just having fun—or maybe both—was unclear, and Se-min responded with a sheepish laugh. Then Cha-hyeon ground his teeth and muttered low and sharp:
“Deputy Chief Jeong. Shut the fuck up. You’re annoying as hell…”
Jeong remained completely unbothered, smiling like it was a pleasant afternoon. But Se-min, startled by the sheer bluntness, blinked wide-eyed. Catching the shocked look on his face, Cha-hyeon’s expression twisted somewhere between fuck and shit, did that drop it again?
“…Did it drop?”
Cha-hyeon looked over at him, trying to gauge his reaction. Se-min’s eyes flicked to the floating window.
Current Favorability: -10%
“No… It didn’t.”
“What didn’t?”
“Nothing you nee—”
The rest of Cha-hyeon’s sentence—need to know—was cut off as he pressed his lips together irritably. Clicking his tongue, he turned away with a scowl. Jeong’s eyes only sparkled more.
“What is it? What’s going on?”
“Ah, well…”
Unable to handle the constant prodding, Se-min finally explained the sudden appearance of the Favorability system.
When he finished, Deputy Chief Jeong let out a loud, joyous laugh—like a father hearing his youngest daughter had finally come to her senses and broken off an engagement to some womanizing three-time divorcé thirty years her senior.
It was the happiest he’d looked all day.
