[“Is This Really How We’re Managing a ‘Guide Void’ Dungeon?”]
[“<Exclusive> Former Minister Kim: ‘The Real Problem Is Park Woo-jun’s Lack of Competence—Team Leaders Should Be Chosen by Experience, Not Rank.'”]
[Blue House: “We Deeply Regret This Incident.”]
Honestly, Lee Han-seo should’ve just flipped the damn table and walked out that day. Every time he logged in, that article headline was front and center on the main portal page—made his neck stiff with rage. And now, all those people who were pushed out during the major restructuring a few years back are crawling out of the woodwork, trying to ride this wave of scandal to weasel their way back in.
Everyone inside the Center knows this whole mess stinks, so it’s been relatively quiet on the inside. But outside? A complete shitshow. He’d begged them—seriously, begged them—to sue, or do something to push back. But it was all a waste of breath.
And now, with every smug opinion piece about skill levels and accountability, Lee Han-seo was about ready to explode. Yet the man at the center of it all? Completely unfazed.
“Come on. Please. I’m begging you—just give me this for my birthday present. If you hate the idea of a lawsuit, then at least make an official statement. Please? I swear, it’s all I want.”
“Your birthday has already passed, Han-seo.”
“Fine, then next year!”
“Still no.”
“Ugh! You’re so frustrating!”
“Hehe. Even when you’re stomping around, my baby’s still adorable. It’s hot today—have some watermelon.”
Park Woo-jun, ever cheerful, stabbed a chunk of perfectly chilled watermelon with a fork and held it to Han-seo’s lips like nothing in the world could rattle him.
“Things have calmed down a lot anyway. Two weeks, tops, and no one will even remember. Not a single headline.”
And with election day just around the corner, he wasn’t wrong. Han-seo accepted the fruit, one bite after another, but he still looked like he was going to combust. He knew Woo-jun was right, but the idea of just lying there and getting pummeled without fighting back went against everything he believed in.
Good thing he’d asked for the sweetest watermelon they had. While Han-seo steamed, Woo-jun happily hummed a tune, unfazed as he fed him bite after bite. He didn’t care if people chewed him up and spat him out. He’d braced himself for that long ago. What he did care about was keeping Han-seo out of the blast zone.
People were already whispering—saying if Han-seo had gone into the dungeon too, maybe the casualties wouldn’t have been so bad. If Han-seo let that nonsense get to him and started insisting on going back in again, that would be the real disaster.
Behind the scenes, Woo-jun had been in close contact with Han-seo’s father, doing everything he could to keep even the tiniest spark from landing on him.
“I don’t get it. Aren’t you even a little pissed?”
“About what?”
“Like… how they’re saying no one ever died like this when Kim Joon-young was Team Leader. Or how it was your fault from the beginning for not checking the team’s condition…”
Woo-jun had checked every single person before they went in—thoroughly. If he was guilty of anything, it was not being able to see into the soul of someone who had already made up their mind to betray them.
But like always, Woo-jun didn’t mind taking hits for things he didn’t do. As long as the knives stayed pointed away from Han-seo, he was more than willing to bleed.
“It’s true though. What’s the point in getting angry?”
“Are you serious right now?!”
“Haha. I really mean it. Don’t waste your energy on this. Just eat more watermelon. Say ‘ahh’—”
Even as he fumed, Han-seo instinctively opened his mouth at the offered fruit. That pouty, slightly flushed expression was just too cute. Instead of feeding him the watermelon, Woo-jun leaned in and kissed him. The chill of juice-flavored lips sent a shiver down his spine.
Maybe it was the contrast that made it addictive—Han-seo’s naturally warm body heat. Han-seo reached up and grabbed the back of Woo-jun’s head, stopping him from pulling away, and tangled their tongues together.
“Mmm… hey… slow down a little…”
“Okay, okay.”
Han-seo had been the one to start it, but once the kiss deepened, he was the first to fall apart—gasping for breath. Woo-jun murmured his agreement, but instead of easing up, he tilted his head further, pushing deeper, licking into his mouth, and dragging his tongue along the roof. A dizzying rush surged through him. High-purity Guiding like this was an addiction—pure and dangerous.
If he didn’t have a mission in ten minutes, he would’ve torn off his clothes and devoured him whole until Han-seo was too spent to stand. But instead, Woo-jun forced himself to pull away, barely swallowing down the craving that burned in his throat.
“…Woo-jun. So, I’ve been thinking…”
That soft, slightly dazed tone—just from a kiss—was absolutely adorable. Woo-jun dropped a few kisses on his nose, his forehead, his lips, and listened.
“Everyone keeps screaming about responsibility. So… what if you actually took responsibility?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, retire.”
“Hmm.”
Guides could build up enough contribution points to request early retirement. Espers? Unless they defected to another country—which wasn’t exactly a paradise either—they were bound to the state until the day they hit retirement age. Woo-jun knew Han-seo understood that just as well as he did.
So he didn’t argue. He just nodded.
“I’ll try to find any case—any—of an Esper retiring early. But first… let’s get you some leave.”
“I already used up all my vacation days…”
Living with someone else’s precious only son, there was no way Park Woo-jun could not show up during all the family events. Han-seo’s mom’s birthday, his dad’s birthday, Parents’ Day—everything landed in the first half of the year. To stay on top of all that, Woo-jun had long since burned through his meager vacation days. And even those didn’t go as planned; half the time, a Dungeon Break call would come through mid-visit, and he’d end up rushing back to the Center, leaving Han-seo behind.
“If you get hurt, they’ll have to give you leave. Everyone’s been going off about how Espers should never enter a dungeon in poor condition. There’s no way they’d see you injured and still shove you in, right?”
“Hmm… You’ve got a point.”
“Right?”
“But today’s just a B-Class dungeon. I’ll be in and out fast, so let me head in for now. We’ll talk more tonight. I made samgyetang. And don’t skip lunch just because you’re too lazy to reheat it, okay? Promise me.”
“Yeah, yeah. Go already.”
“Be back soon.”
Already fully prepped for dispatch, Woo-jun gave Han-seo a firm hug before skipping the front door entirely and throwing open the veranda window. With practiced ease, he leapt out. By now, it was such a regular thing, Han-seo didn’t even flinch.
But Park Woo-jun, cheerfully bounding off to his mission, had no clue. He thought Han-seo’s comment about taking time off due to an injury was just his usual moody dramatics.
What he didn’t know was—
“Hmm… A broken leg seems about right. No way I can manage that barehanded though. Maybe something like a club… Didn’t I see a golf club in the Director’s office? Should I go steal it…?”
—Han-seo was seriously considering it.
***
After two aggravating years as Director of Esper Affairs, Kim Joon-young had finally stepped down. Peace had returned, more or less. Even Lee Jung-hyuk, who’d been Team Leader of the Guides, had timed his resignation to match, and the two of them—now officially a bonded pair—were finally enjoying the kind of quiet downtime that felt almost suspicious after years of chaos.
When Kim had been the only S-Class Esper, he was constantly deployed, barely surviving with just one body. And when Woo-jun joined and started taking on his share of the load, Kim found himself buried under admin work, large-scale projects, and endless dungeon raids. He couldn’t breathe either way.
So now that he was finally being treated like a normal Esper, this new life tasted sweeter than anything.
To top it off, even Ryu Ho-yeon—who had spent forever unmatched despite being S-Class—had finally found his pair. With that, Kim’s already relaxed life was about to get even more leisurely.
All that was left was to enjoy his slow-burn honeymoon phase with the one and only Guide he’d ever need. Just a few hours ago, he’d been absolutely giddy about it.
Ding-dong.
— Who is it?
“It’s me, you little shits. Open up.”
The sweet, syrupy tone Kim Joon-young had used earlier while snuggling into Jung-hyuk’s broad chest and whining about how hard his day had been? Gone. Completely gone.
— ……
He could feel Park Woo-jun and Lee Han-seo standing right behind the door, but the silence that greeted him was almost insulting.
Trying to keep his cool, Kim mentally conjured up images of Jung-hyuk’s god-tier abs and reassuringly solid arms—the ones that had hugged him goodbye while telling him not to lose his temper. He tried. He really did.
But no. Total failure. All he could think about was being stripped down, barely touched, and then having to throw his clothes back on and storm out. The more he thought about it, the more pissed he got.
Ding-dong.
The doorbell rang again.
“Open the goddamn door before I rip it off its hinges.”
They had to know he was coming the moment they screwed up. And yet, from inside the apartment came Han-seo’s panicked mutter: “Ugh, he actually came. It’s Kim Joon-young…”
Maybe he thought he was whispering, but Kim Joon-young—whose raw physical power put Woo-jun to shame—heard it as loud and clear as a stereo turned up full blast.
He pounded on the door with a heavy thud.
“I heard everything. Open up. I’m serious—I will tear this door off.”
“Ugh, fine! We’ll open it! Geez, always with the threats. Are you some kind of gangster?”
Gangster? Gangster? Says the guy who tried to shatter his own Esper’s leg with a metal pipe…
Kim Joon-young let out a long, deep sigh.
“Hehe. Hey, sunbae~ You came~”
Don’t be fooled. That innocent-looking smile? Total act. That little bastard was just as guilty.
