BOOM—!
The sound was explosive, downright threatening. No sooner had Lee Han-seo finished speaking than Park Woo-jun grabbed Julian and threw him without the slightest hesitation. Or rather, “threw” was too clean a word—slammed him, more like it, as if he were tossing out the trash.
The staff member guiding them, as well as the physical-enhancement Esper who was either assigned to watch or protect Julian, could only gape in shock. Clearly, no one had expected Park Woo-jun to step in so directly.
Lee Han-seo looked over at the stunned United Headquarters staff and asked with a straight face, “What? Is there a problem?” Surely they’d been tracking his every move since he got off the plane. If they were going to go out of their way to inconvenience him for Julian’s sake, then he wasn’t about to just stand by and take it.
Truthfully, Julian was in a tough spot. If he’d been lower-ranked, he might’ve managed with scattered bits of Guiding from higher-level Guides—even if the Matching Rate was a little off. Or if he’d stayed out of combat entirely, he could’ve survived on substitutes. But that didn’t apply to him. His innate power was far too overwhelming. Even among the elite S-Class Espers from around the world, he was powerful enough to serve as a main striker.
Whether he still belonged to the U.S. or had been formally transferred to the International Esper Alliance wasn’t clear. But Lee Han-seo knew one thing for certain: A shadowy, unidentifiable group of people—motivated by suspicious intentions—kept trying to manufacture a connection between him and Julian Moore.
He wouldn’t even need to give his own Guiding. Like last time, he could simply absorb the leftover Guiding inside Julian, raise its purity, and push it back into him. Adjusting Julian’s condition on top of Guiding Park Woo-jun wouldn’t be a problem.
But being able to do something and being obligated to do it were two very different things.
His individual skill was not a valid excuse for demanding that he Guiding some unrelated Esper who wasn’t even his Bonded Pair. He wasn’t about to let them manipulate him through guilt and sympathy, without terms, without compensation. And he sure as hell wasn’t doing it out of the kindness of his heart.
Most likely, this whole scene was being broadcast in real time to whoever was secretly monitoring them. Otherwise, why would Julian Moore be the only one standing there, as if he knew exactly when and where to wait?
Maybe Lee Han-seo would end up Guiding him. He was more than capable. But even if he did, it would never be out of goodwill.
Julian Moore offering his heartfelt thanks? Some emotional gesture of gratitude? Please. No matter how exceptional he was, at the end of the day, he was just an Esper—just one person. And unless he meant something deeply personal to Lee Han-seo, all that emotional fluff—words or looks—wasn’t worth a single piece of trash on the street. Same went for gifts and money.
The ones who’d have to pay for Lee Han-seo’s “favor” were the institutions holding Julian’s leash—whether that was the Alliance or the U.S. Center. Until they sat down at a proper negotiation table and put some real rewards on offer, Han-seo wasn’t even going to acknowledge Julian’s existence.
He wasn’t about to sell his labor short just because someone got a little emotional.
Lee Han-seo’s eyes burned with a rare sense of purpose as he stared ahead. Every single instance of Guiding Julian would need to be accounted for. Every bit of contribution, every merit point, paid back in full. Ideally, it’d also count toward boosting Park Woo-jun’s service record.
Park Woo-jun had thirty-five years left until retirement. Overseas service counted at 1.5x, so that left around twenty-four years. Han-seo’s goal was to shave at least twenty off that through this Guiding mess. The more desperate they were, the more ridiculous his demands could be—and the more likely they’d get accepted. If the negotiations went well, this plan wasn’t out of reach.
That said, the force of Park Woo-jun’s earlier throw had been no joke. Several minutes had passed, and Julian was still crumpled in the corner, unable to get up. Han-seo narrowed his eyes, staring into the dust. Someone was walking toward them through the haze—but it wasn’t Julian.
“Tsk, tsk. Couldn’t you have gone a little easier?”
“Simon!”
“It’s been a while, you two. Been doing well?”
The soft smile belonged to Simon, the S-Class Healing Esper. He exchanged quick greetings, then immediately crouched by Julian’s side to check his condition. Julian looked completely out cold.
The small wounds covering his body were no challenge for Simon to heal. But no sooner had the treatment finished than electric currents crackled across Julian’s skin again, and his condition took a turn for the worse.
“I know why you’re being this harsh… but couldn’t you ease up a little? He joined the U-Class task force first thing and has been waiting for you ever since. Just lying there in the isolation room, not moving an inch, getting by on substitutes. All because he wanted to be standing when you arrived.”
Simon’s soft eyes, framed by thick lashes, dimmed with sympathy as he spoke. It felt like being gutted with a knife carved from conscience, even if you didn’t have one.
Just from that, Han-seo looked like the cold-hearted jerk trampling all over Julian’s pure devotion.
Gotta stay focused. He’s no pushover…
Han-seo gave a light shake of his head, firming his resolve. Julian wasn’t some tragic Juliet from a novel, and Han-seo sure as hell wasn’t a useless Romeo choking down poison over doomed love. More importantly, if fate ever did cast Han-seo as Romeo, then obviously Park Woo-jun—pure and delicate as ever—would be Juliet, standing proudly in that role with no room left for Julian to squeeze in.
If Julian had felt even a sliver of genuine, human affection for Lee Han-seo—not just interest in him as an Esper—then maybe Han-seo would’ve felt a little bad about drawing the line so firmly. Maybe.
But Julian didn’t want him. He wanted Han-seo’s Guiding.
For someone so good at pretending to be close, the emptiness behind Julian’s eyes always gave him away. That cold, mechanical gaze—it wasn’t hard to see through.
Since childhood, Lee Han-seo had been surrounded by people trying to get close for their own gain. Whether it was Guiding or something else, people always approached with fake affection, expecting to take something. And thanks to that early training, he could now sniff out those intentions blindfolded.
“Well, I didn’t really need to know that, but thanks for the info anyway. Simon, let’s just pretend I didn’t hear any of that. He’s not even my Esper, and yet you’re tossing responsibility on me with that weird tone—though I’m sure that’s just a misunderstanding, right? Haha. Anyone listening might think Julian Moore and I have some kind of thing going on.”
“…Of course not, Han-seo. You’re right. I crossed the line. My apologies.”
“Good. Just keep that in mind next time.”
Both of them smiled—bright, pleasant smiles that masked a fierce battle of wills with not a single step of ground conceded.
After Han-seo, the Guide with the highest Matching Rate to Julian was Mathis—Simon’s own Bonded Pair. And even though his ability was Healing, Simon was no saint or doctor. Simon’s whole act, playing the kind and noble Esper? That had been calculated from the very start.
He was using Han-seo as a shield, setting him up as a barrier to keep Julian’s Guiding from ever bleeding over to Mathis. A solid line of defense.
“Why don’t you two head to the conference room first? You’re the last ones to arrive. Everyone else is already inside. I’ll move Julian to the isolation unit and catch up later.”
“Sure, Simon. Take your time.”
Han-seo slid right up to Park Woo-jun’s side like he was putting on a show, and Park Woo-jun wrapped an arm around him without missing a beat, walking slowly as if they were in no rush at all.
Even with all the cold, sharp stares being thrown their way—from staff who had just seen Park show off his power like it was nothing, and Han-seo verbally dismantle the ever-cunning Simon—the two of them carried on like nothing happened, following the guide without so much as a blink.
The International Headquarters definitely lived up to its name. The size of the underground complex was no joke. Honestly, it looked even bigger than the Main Building of the Seoul Central Branch—despite that building having been expanded again and again thanks to massive donations from Han-seo’s grandfather and mother.
The U-Class task force had its own dedicated conference room, located five floors underground.
“Well, look who it is! You finally made it!”
“Han-seo! Blader!”
