6) Se-min (0%)
“It looks like amnesia.”
Once again, Se-min found himself in the same hospital, the same doctor’s office, facing the same doctor—and hearing the same diagnosis. The only difference this time was the man sitting beside him, who claimed to be his fiancé.
Not that Se-min remembered any of this now.
“Hoo… So this time, Guide Ji Se-min has also lost all memories related to Esper Sung Cha-hyeon? Down to the smallest detail. It’s exactly the same as before.”
The doctor looked like he didn’t know whether to be fascinated or frustrated. Fascination, likely because he could write a paper titled something like “Mutual Memory Loss and the Effects of Dungeon Clear Rewards on Awakened Brain Activity.” Frustration, maybe because he genuinely felt bad for Se-min.
“If that’s the case, then both Esper Sung Cha-hyeon and Guide Ji Se-min’s memory loss is likely tied to a Dungeon Gate incident. The problem is… Guide Ji Se-min hasn’t entered any Gates recently, right? Oh, right—he was taken hostage… Hmm. That might be the cause…”
“Wow…”
Only after going through every test and scan imaginable did Se-min return to his hospital room, muttering to himself.
His recent memories were a complete blank, but everything prior to that was intact. Still, anything related to this man—Sung Cha-hyeon—had been completely erased. Every moment, every trace. And apparently, the man himself was suffering from the same condition.
“Wow…”
Se-min mumbled again. It felt more believable that this was some weird dream. How else could something so absurdly dramatic be happening to someone like him, who’d lived a perfectly average life?
And now he was engaged? At twenty-three? Se-min wasn’t sure if his past self had lost his damn mind or if it was the older guy who’d gone crazy for agreeing to marry someone so young. Maybe both.
But the man following him back to the room looked visibly shaken. He’d undergone the same tests, but now his pale face was tinged a sickly shade of blue, like he was about to throw up.
Sure, having your fiancé forget you overnight would shake anyone. Still, the way this S-rank Esper stared at him—with cold, calculating eyes—was more than a little unnerving.
And those eyes, full of disbelief, like he was desperately hoping this was all just some awful joke—what the hell was up with that? Feeling awkward under the scrutiny, Se-min scratched the back of his neck.
It’s not like he wanted to lose his memories. He just opened his eyes and was suddenly engaged to some older guy he didn’t recognize. Se-min had been just as startled. It wasn’t like he’d committed a crime or something.
Screw it. Might as well just say what was on his mind.
“…Why are you glaring at me?”
The man blinked, eyebrows lifting slightly as if he’d just realized what he was doing. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before awkwardly pressing a hand to his upper chest.
“…I wasn’t glaring.”
Bullshit. You totally were.
But the man—unaware of Se-min’s inner commentary—rubbed his sternum and bit his lip, hard. So hard that the natural color drained from his lips, leaving them pale and bloodless.
“…Fuck. What is this, karma? Some kind of cosmic payback?”
The muttered curse slipped out from between his gradually reddening lips as the pressure eased. He sounded like a man talking to himself, not expecting an answer.
Whatever he meant by that, Se-min had no idea, and frankly, didn’t know him well enough to ask. So he just pretended not to hear.
The man raked his fingers through his hair like he wanted to rip it out, then let out a long, bitter sigh. For a while, he just stared into space like someone who’d given up.
Then, out of nowhere, he muttered, “I’m just gonna…”
His index and middle fingers brushed against his lips, then dropped halfway down in an awkward gesture. But Se-min understood what he meant.
“Oh, going out for a smoke? Go ahead.”
At that, the man stared at him like he’d just seen a ghost. His eyes widened, and the silence that followed was almost oppressive.
Uncomfortable, Se-min subtly licked his lower lip and turned his head, trying to seem as casual as possible.
Why’s he staring like that again? It’s freaking me out…
Sure, he got it. The guy was probably shaken up too. But from Se-min’s perspective, a stranger kept staring at him like he was some kind of puzzle, reacting with suspicion and disbelief to his every word.
And when a complete stranger does that to you, it’s weird—even if he is your so-called fiancé.
Honestly, Se-min was getting more than a little desperate to be alone.
Finally, the man exhaled, slumping as the tension drained from his body. His voice came out soft, weary.
“…Never mind. Forget that. Let’s talk, Se-min.”
His voice was quiet, like he was making a gentle, worn-out request. His slightly reddened eyes were downcast, his expression heavy.
That alone was enough to shift something in Se-min. Okay… maybe he really is just overwhelmed too.
“Sure. Should we sit down over there?”
He led the way to the sofa. A sofa—in a hospital room. No wonder he’d thought this place was a hotel when he first woke up. Turned out, it was a VIP suite. Thankfully, someone else was footing the bill.
Must be rich…
Then again, the guy was an S-rank Esper. They were probably swimming in cash. Se-min vaguely recalled reading somewhere that S-rank Awakened earned hundreds of billions a year.
…Wait. Didn’t they say he was an Awakened too?
The thought hit him like a jolt. Until now, he’d been thinking of himself as just some civilian, thanks to the memory loss. But if he was a Guide… wait—what rank was he again?
His brain kicked into overdrive. If he was S-rank too… that was like winning the Powerball jackpot every year.
Sure, he could be a lower rank, but he was pair partners with an S-rank Esper. There was a good chance he had some crazy ability too.
Even if he wasn’t S-rank, he was probably a high-tier Guide. And how much would they make?
The thought of being stupid rich made the corners of his mouth twitch. And being a Guide was practically a government job. No exams, no interviews—straight into the ranks of high-paying civil service.
A public servant making hundreds of billions a year.
Se-min was buzzing with excitement, his thoughts spiraling into a stew of strawberry mint chocolate doenjang jjigae-level nonsense.
Across from him, completely unaware of Se-min’s trainwreck of a thought process, the man sat down and leaned forward with his hands clasped over his thighs. Another sigh escaped him.
“So… sigh. You’re not too confused or anything?”
His voice was tired, his tone resigned. It sounded strange even to him. While he leaned forward, Se-min sat up straight and considered his answer.
“Well… yeah. I was kind of surprised to find out I’m a Guide. Oh, and that you’re my fiancé. That too. But aside from that, I think I’m okay.”
“…‘You’?”
One of the man’s eyebrows twitched.
Oops. He looked at least six years older, so maybe “you” wasn’t exactly respectful. Se-min quickly corrected himself.
“Ah, I mean, sir. I was surprised to hear sir is my fiancé.”
“……”
“…Sir?”
Se-min called out carefully when the man fell silent. He bit the inside of his lip, his frustration seeping through his clenched jaw. His mood felt so intense that Se-min instinctively sat up straighter.
“…I’m not ‘sir.’”
He finally spoke in a low, rough voice. His eyes looked lost—like he didn’t even know where to begin.
“I’m Cha-hyeon. Sung Cha-hyeon.”
He’d heard the name earlier from the doctor, but hearing the man say it himself—like it was the first time they’d met—made something in Se-min’s chest flutter faintly.
“Oh… Yes. Mr. Sung Cha-hyeon.”
The man—Cha-hyeon—looked like he’d just been slapped.
Did I get it wrong again? Maybe he didn’t like being called “Mr.”
“Sung Cha-hyeon-nim?”
Still wrong, apparently. Cha-hyeon looked even more bewildered. Se-min furrowed his brow. Still not it?
“…Just call me Cha-hyeon hyung.”
Thankfully, before this could turn into a game of twenty questions, Cha-hyeon gave him the answer.
“Ahh.” Se-min nodded. “Got it. Cha-hyeon hyung-nim.”
“…….”
Cha-hyeon’s mouth fell open. He looked like someone who’d just taken a critical hit out of nowhere.
He looked at least six or seven years older. That’d put him around twenty-nine or thirty, right? So was he seriously supposed to just call him hyung?
Or maybe the guy just looked older than he was? What if they were only three years apart? That would be awkward as hell.
“…So, hyung… nim? If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you?”
“Haa…”
Cha-hyeon let out a deep sigh and ran a hand down his face. He looked utterly drained.
“…I’m ten years older than you.”
Ten years?! Se-min’s eyes went wide. He’d guessed maybe six or seven. But ten?
So… thirty-three.
Which meant his past self had agreed to marry a thirty-three-year-old man who told him to drop the honorifics and call him hyung.
…Holy shit.
Se-min’s expression slowly turned cold. He remembered the exact look he’d given when a college friend announced they were marrying a man ten years older before graduation.
Now, that was his story.
Jesus. Was I trying to ruin my own life or what?
“…Uh, yeah. You, uh… you look really young. Like, you really don’t look your age…”
Grasping for something—anything—to say, Se-min trailed off.
And deep inside, the question gnawed at him: What the hell was I thinking back then?
