But no—it didn’t happen.
Hyun Tae-oh had never sharpened his guard against other Guides. Sure, there were moments of jealousy—especially when it came to Lee Jun-hyung, who seemed closer to Chi-yu than he was—but overall, Tae-oh never saw another guide as a threat. That was natural. An Esper and a Guide together, regardless of gender, was dangerous. But two Guides? That posed no risk at all.
Most Espers and Guides weren’t drawn to people of the same role. It was instinctive, like a natural aversion. Outside of a rare few, they were almost always attracted to the opposite role. So when another Guide got close to Chi-yu, it wasn’t something to worry about.
If anything, Tae-oh believed Chi-yu would dislike it if he were the one interacting with another Guide. The real reason, though, was simpler—he himself had no desire to touch anyone other than Chi-yu. So if Chi-yu supported Sung Ji-yeol, fine. But that gave Tae-oh no reason to step in and do it himself.
Chi-yu felt the same. He didn’t mind helping Sung Ji-yeol, but the idea of Tae-oh doing it was naturally unpleasant. He was always conscious of that instinctive attraction between Espers and Guides, and he knew just how jealous he could be.
Fortunately, Tae-oh was almost obsessive in his avoidance of others—borderline mysophobic. He only ever wanted to be Guided by Chi-yu, which meant Chi-yu didn’t need to worry about him straying. But during the Min Yu-hyun incident, he’d come to a sharp realization: he really was the jealous type. Extremely so.
Perhaps Tae-oh knew it, because he never gave Chi-yu a single reason to feel insecure. Maybe it was simply his nature.
“You’ve got lodging in Q-Zone, right?”
Chi-yu asked Sung Ji-yeol.
“Ah… no. I was on my way home when the accident happened. The Espers I was with were suddenly called in for assembly, so I was left alone.”
What Sung Ji-yeol really intended was to bring them to his own home—more precisely, to etch his home coordinates into Tae-oh.
“Then you should head home. Tae-oh, you okay with that?”
Chi-yu turned to the one who’d have to teleport.
Tae-oh caught his arm before answering.
“And if I say no—what, were you planning to make me book a flight?”
His sharp tone made Sung Ji-yeol swallow hard. Chi-yu, however, just gave an easy laugh, like he was used to it.
“Coordinates.”
For the first time, Tae-oh looked directly at Sung Ji-yeol when he spoke. The instant their eyes met, Sung Ji-yeol felt his heart crash to the floor with a heavy thud.
He swallowed again and forced himself to recite the coordinates.
***
From the veranda, Lee Jun-hyung could tell something was wrong when he saw Yoon Do-jae at the window, locked in a serious phone call.
Inside, Beom Do-il and Min Yu-hyun were squabbling over who’d had more to drink, but Jun-hyung quietly got up and went to Do-jae.
“Yes, the fact that only one remains is strange in itself. Even if there was a machine error, the Espers did a final check. Missing it means it could’ve appeared afterward. Yes. Yes, please handle it that way. Since this is a public resort, the company should take extra care—it’s in their best interest as well. Thank you. I’ll leave it with you.”
“What’s going on?”
Do-jae flinched at Jun-hyung’s voice as he hung up. His face was flushed from the three shots Min Yu-hyun had forced on him earlier, and Jun-hyung’s head was just as foggy from the drinks.
“Ah, Esper Hyun Tae-oh asked me for a favor,” Do-jae said, slipping his phone into his pocket.
“Something turn up on the beach?”
“No.” He shook his head. “You remember that Guide we saw earlier at the restaurant? He’s the operator of the Anti Club—the same group the Esper who attacked Guide Kang Chi-yu belonged to.”
“…What?”
“And apparently, he’s been tormenting not just Guide Kang Chi-yu, but quite a few Espers and Guides the same way.”
“…So why’d he act like he knew you?”
“I met him through the matter with Guide Kang Chi-yu. Anyway, that Guide got caught in a trap the Ridune collectors left on the beach.”
“Huh?”
Jun-hyung’s face immediately twisted in disbelief.
“Yeah, ridiculous, right? If this were an off-limits zone, maybe. But this is a resort open to civilians. There shouldn’t be anything left behind like that. It’s not allowed.”
“Exactly. Isn’t the company handling this huge? I heard they spent nearly two months making sure the Association didn’t leave a single beast behind.”
“Right. That’s why I thought it might be staged. Tae-oh asked me to check, so I was just on the phone with the company’s manager.”
“A setup.”
“I don’t know the exact reason, but I suspect he’s trying to get close to Tae-oh.”
“Ah, makes sense. Plenty of Guides pull stunts like that just to get on a famous Esper’s radar.”
Jun-hyung knew that better than most. Back in their Esper Academy days, he had approached Chi-yu just to get closer to Tae-oh, since Chi-yu was his childhood friend. But in the end, he found himself liking Chi-yu more—at least as a friend. He built such a strong bond with him that Tae-oh became irrelevant. Now, he could tell Chi-yu nearly everything. But the truth was, he’d first spoken to him because of Tae-oh.
And Chi-yu had always been sharp about those things. He’d been approached by people like that since he was young. He could tell instantly whether someone liked him, or just wanted a connection to Tae-oh.
So even if the Anti Club operator was staging some performance, it wasn’t much to worry about.
“So where is he now?”
“That Guide, the Anti Club operator? He’s in the hospital. They probably dropped him off and came right back.”
Jun-hyung nodded, glancing back at the living room. Beom Do-il and Min Yu-hyun were still locked in their drunken bickering over who could hold their liquor. From the look of it, they actually had surprisingly good chemistry. Do-il seemed to absorb Yu-hyun’s sharpness with baffling ease.
Jun-hyung found himself watching the two, unable to look away.
***
“Since you brought me all the way here, I’d feel bad just sending you off.”
Sung Ji-yeol stepped in to block Tae-oh and Chi-yu from leaving.
His plan was to keep them around a little longer—to build rapport with Chi-yu, to leave a stronger impression on Tae-oh.
But Tae-oh, who’d already heard from Yoon Do-jae that Sung Ji-yeol was the operator, wasn’t about to give him even a sliver of opportunity.
“Let’s go, Chi-yu.”
Without so much as a glance or a word to Sung Ji-yeol, he seized Chi-yu’s wrist. Chi-yu looked startled, but Tae-oh gave him no chance to even say goodbye before teleporting them away.
Sung Ji-yeol’s face immediately twisted in frustration. Teleportation. It kept wrecking his carefully laid plans.
Clicking his tongue, he stewed over how he might stop Tae-oh from using it so freely.
***
After dropping Sung Ji-yeol off, Tae-oh teleported them straight back to the beach. He rested his hand on Chi-yu’s shoulder, and they strolled quietly together along the shore.
Neither asked about returning to the lodging. Neither suggested it. They simply walked, unhurried and at ease, through the night. It felt as if the world belonged to them alone—quiet, peaceful.
Maybe that was why Tae-oh suddenly thought of the deserted-island ticket Jun-hyung had given him.
He had plenty of chances to take Chi-yu traveling. There was a full year of paid leave, plus another month of vacation. Giving up just two days of a weekend meant nothing.
A calm peace washed over him.
His hand on Chi-yu’s shoulder drifted up, brushing lightly against his ear.
“Are you tired?” Chi-yu asked.
Tae-oh shook his head.
“Can’t be tired when I’m with Kang Chi-yu.”
The guy who’d been only a friend for over twenty years was suddenly changing the way he spoke, flustering him with every word.
Chi-yu couldn’t keep up. His heart twisted with embarrassment.
“Unbelievable.”
He forced out a dry laugh, feigning exasperation.
His chest was pounding like crazy, but at least his voice stayed steady.
“Tae-oh, about that Association Guide earlier.”
“Yeah.”
“You haven’t erased the home coordinates yet, have you?”
The unexpected question made Tae-oh stop in his tracks. With his arm hooked around him, Chi-yu stopped as well.
“Could you erase them?”
Chi-yu looked up at him as he asked.
He hadn’t minded that Tae-oh teleported Sung Ji-yeol home. Tae-oh hadn’t touched him, hadn’t fussed over him, hadn’t even spoken to him. Nothing about that bothered Chi-yu.
What did bother him was the way Sung Ji-yeol had looked at Tae-oh.
Chi-yu knew that look. Everyone around Tae-oh looked at him that way.
And nine times out of ten, those people turned to Chi-yu—trying to get close to Tae-oh through him.
He’d lived with that his whole life. He could tell instantly if someone was genuinely interested in Tae-oh.
Even Min Yu-hyun had given him that look. That was why, when the scandal broke and he saw Yu-hyun leaving Tae-oh’s house, he had misunderstood instantly.
His instincts were rarely wrong. And whether by chance or design, Sung Ji-yeol’s reason for crossing their path was almost certainly Tae-oh.
That was why Chi-yu couldn’t stand the idea of Tae-oh holding on to Sung Ji-yeol’s home coordinates.
Yes, they’d only just started dating. And yes, he knew Tae-oh would never sneak off behind his back.
But knowing that didn’t make him feel any better. The idea of Tae-oh knowing where another Guide lived—especially someone like Sung Ji-yeol—was unbearable.
Anything could happen, anytime. Just imagining Tae-oh teleporting to Sung Ji-yeol’s house without him there was enough to make his stomach turn.
