“Why are you here?”
“You think I wanted to come?”
Kim Joon-young hadn’t exactly expected a red carpet, but the sour tone that greeted him the moment the door opened made him click his tongue in irritation.
“Where’s Jung-hyuk? Thought he’d be with you.”
“He just got back from a dungeon a few hours ago. I told him to rest.”
He stepped past Lee Han-seo—who was still in soft, fluffy pajamas—and walked into the dorm like he owned the place. He hadn’t even made it a few steps before he was hit with an infuriating sight.
“Seriously? You guys… You’re really sitting here stuffing your faces with chicken right now?”
He’d already guessed from the smell wafting through the hallway, but seeing two whole chickens laid out on the table made his head spin. They’d just flipped the entire Center upside down, and now here they were, lounging around like it was Sunday night takeout. Maybe stopping the Chief from storming over himself wasn’t worth it after all…
“Hehe… Wanna join? There’s a drumstick left.”
“No! Don’t give it to Kim Joon-young! You eat it!”
He didn’t even want any, but watching them twitch and panic like that only made him more annoyed. His mind wandered back to Han-seo’s cheerful hum from days past: ‘I like chicken breast, and Woo-jun likes drumsticks, so it works out perfectly~’
Kim Joon-young washed his hands at the sink, then, ignoring whatever Han-seo was screeching about, snatched the drumstick Woo-jun held out and bit into it with a vengeance. If they dragged him all the way here in the middle of the night, then dammit, he deserved at least this much. Why are you here? That whining tone still buzzed in his ears, but he couldn’t be bothered to care.
“Here, have some cola too.”
“…Yeah. Thanks.”
“No problem. Han-seo, come on. Eat before it gets cold.”
Park Woo-jun, as always, was unbelievably chill. He didn’t bat an eye at Kim Joon-young’s surprise visit—just smiled and went back to tearing into his chicken. His expression was so sunny it practically sprouted a pair of floppy puppy ears, like some overgrown greeting dog at 30% opacity. Honestly, if anyone was single-handedly dragging the reputation of Espers through the mud, it had to be Park Woo-jun. Kim Joon-young stood by that.
Joon-young polished off the drumstick in no time and cast a withering glare at the two seated across from him. Woo-jun kept eating like nothing was wrong, while Han-seo—the clear ringleader tonight—squirmed in place, guilt practically tattooed on his forehead.
“C-come on. I mean, really. What, you think I’m gonna eat him or something? He’s my Esper!”
“Sure, you didn’t eat him. You just tried to break him.”
“Tch… I didn’t even break anything, okay? It was pointless. Just ended up hurting my hand.”
Only a lunatic would try to “help” an overworked Esper by clobbering him into a forced vacation. And only another lunatic would calmly roll up his pant leg and suggest aiming for the cartilage instead of the bone to make it easier. Neither of them were in their right minds.
“You two are seriously messed up…”
Kim Joon-young groaned, and Park Woo-jun just chuckled, cheeks turning red. This wasn’t just absurd—it was beyond absurd.
“Don’t laugh. That wasn’t a compliment.”
“Sounded like one though.”
“Swallow your food before you speak.”
His half-garbled words grated on Joon-young’s ears, and he snapped. Woo-jun wisely shut up and nodded instead. Han-seo, meanwhile, was already asking if they should order another chicken like this was some dinner party.
He was in a fully guided state, so there was no reason his head should hurt—but the back of his skull was definitely starting to throb. Honestly, Joon-young just wanted to curl up with his head on Jung-hyuk’s rock-hard thigh and pass out.
“So what’s the Chief saying? Are we getting disciplined?”
There was actual hope in Woo-jun’s voice. Like he wanted to be punished. Not surprising, really—he didn’t need the money, and he was born with enough privilege that getting fired was impossible. A suspension would be the closest thing to a paid vacation. Even with a brain the size of a walnut, Joon-young could see the mental math going on behind those eyes.
“Please. And let’s be clear—if anyone’s getting punished, it’s not ‘we.’ It’s you. Got that, Perpetrator Lee Han-seo?”
“Ugh, then seriously, why did you even come?”
“Thirty hours of community service.”
“What? You just said there wouldn’t be any punishment!”
“I said I’d go and talk him down. That was the deal.”
Honestly, thirty hours of community service was laughably light given what Han-seo had done—but the man looked personally offended, like he’d been wronged. Then again, it made sense. He wasn’t just any Esper; he was an S-Class. The kind regular people couldn’t hurt even if the sky came crashing down. Of course he didn’t think he did anything wrong.
But once the public hears that a Guide laid hands on an Esper, it doesn’t matter what your rank is. That’s the kind of scandal that burns everything down.
Back when the Center first launched, there were all sorts of abuses: Espers physically dominating and secretly tormenting their Guides, or Guides using their powers as leverage to treat Espers like disposable tools. Those incidents piled up, and now, it’s become one of the most sensitive issues in the field. Laws are strict. Penalties are harsh. No exceptions.
Sure, the physical disparity meant courts tended to favor Guides, but that was no reason to get complacent.
With Lee Han-seo’s flashy family background, his near-zero dungeon activity since forming a Bonded Pair, and the media already circling like sharks, there were more than enough angles for them to spin this into a scandal. Especially now, with every reporter in the country laser-focused on their every move.
“I’ve given up, okay? All it does is mess up my hand and drag me around to get nagged at.”
“Yeah, like anyone’s buying that. We’ve got witnesses—multiple, just from today. What the hell were you thinking? And right at the Center’s front entrance?”
“I figured no one would believe me if I said he got hurt in a B-Class dungeon, so… might as well get injured where everyone could see it…”
This guy wasn’t just crazy—he was dangerously committed to it. Sure, Joon-young called Park Woo-jun insane on a daily basis, but clearly, the company you keep says a lot.
“Ooh! What if I just fell down the stairs or something? Then it’s not like Han-seo hit me!”
“Hmm. That’s actually not a bad idea.”
And there it was. The so-called Chief of Espers—someone who should be leading the charge on Esper rights—seriously considering staging an accident. As if anyone would believe that an S-Class Esper, the kind who could swan dive off the top of the 63 Building and land like a feather, got hurt from falling down a few stairs.
“You’re all completely nuts. Want me to actually break something for you? Anyone got a hammer?”
“Ahjussi, no! If you hit him, Woo-jun would really get hurt!”
He didn’t even have the energy to argue why he was called “Ahjussi” when Jung-hyuk—just a year older—still got to be “hyung.” At this point, he’d kill for the chance to knock both these troublemakers upside the head and call it a day.
“Anyway.”
“Yeah?”
“Park Woo-jun, you’ve got a mission dispatch first thing tomorrow. You saw the alert, right?”
“Tch… They didn’t cancel it?”
“You’ll need Guiding beforehand, obviously. But no way in hell am I leaving the victim and the perpetrator alone in a room together. So tonight, we’re doing touch-free Guiding with a witness present. End of discussion.”
Originally, when Joon-young promised the Chief he’d talk Han-seo down, he figured he’d drop by tomorrow after Woo-jun headed out on his mission. Observer? Anyone would do.
But the moment word got out, every available Esper bailed, claiming Woo-jun was “too intense.” And anyone who wasn’t an Esper wouldn’t stand a chance of stopping either of them if things went south. So naturally, he ended up being the lucky volunteer. Just as Woo-jun had finished setting his guide down on the bed like some irresistible midnight snack.
“What are you waiting for? Go get the bedding ready. I’m tired, I need sleep.”
“Ugh. This sucks.”
“Yeah? Well, I’m the one who’s really suffering here.”
Grumbling the whole way, Han-seo laid out the blankets in the living room. He didn’t protest much—probably because he knew he’d earned it. He made sure there was enough room for three adult men to lie side by side. Woo-jun kept wandering between the bedroom and living room, visibly squirming with guilt as Han-seo handled all the prep. He even stopped mid-chicken bite, like he couldn’t stand watching him work alone.
“Sit down! Just breathe! Eat your food!”
“Whimper…”
“Rest! Chill! Stop doing stuff!”
Every time Woo-jun tried to help, Han-seo would bark at him in that sharp, clipped tone. Joon-young, meanwhile, couldn’t care less. He was too busy typing out a desperate, lovesick message to his own guide.
“Jung-hyuk… I miss you… Can you even sleep without me…?” The message was long and painfully pathetic.
Jung-hyuk replied with a single character: “Yes.”
Why did tonight feel like it was lasting forever?
Since he was technically here to prevent “unnecessary contact,” Joon-young had no choice but to sleep between the two of them like a human barrier.
While he closed his eyes and tried to get some rest, the two idiots next to him wouldn’t stop whispering and chatting like he wasn’t even there. No matter how deep he pulled the blanket over his head, he couldn’t block out their voices.
He eventually snapped, telling them to shut up so he could sleep, but Han-seo fired back without missing a beat, telling him to go home if he had a problem. Not even a flicker of guilt.
God, Jung-hyuk… I really picked the wrong junior. What kind of mess is this? I hate everything about office life…
Unfortunately for Kim Joon-young, his miserable night was far from over.
