Restless. Uneasy. Like he was crawling out of his skin.
From the moment they were shown into a nearby empty office, Park Woo-jun hadn’t stopped fidgeting. His legs trembled, his lips were raw from biting, and his limbs wouldn’t stay still for even a second. After watching him pace back and forth in the small waiting room for far too long, Lee Han-seo finally snapped.
“Sit down already. You’re stressing me out.”
“Han-seo… aren’t you scared?”
“Scared of what?”
“The 95 percent… I looked it up just now. The world record’s only 91 percent. That was an A-Class Pair in Europe, back in the ’80s…”
Han-seo remembered how the whole Esper Affairs Center had gone into a frenzy when Kim Joon-young and Lee Jung-hyuk hit an 89 percent match a few years ago. So 95 percent—on the first test, no less—was insane.
“Then I guess we’re breaking the record today.”
Totally unfazed, Han-seo sank deep into the plush couch like he didn’t have a care in the world. He patted the seat next to him, and Woo-jun immediately shuffled over, sitting close. But even then, he couldn’t stop chewing his bottom lip, his nerves still plain as day.
Huh. Seriously? Han-seo’s temper flared. So he was this anxious, this unsure of himself—and still had the guts to say he wanted to be his potato? Was that why he’d bolted the second someone told him they couldn’t be a Pair?
“Hey. Just tell me already. What are you so scared of? You said you trusted me. Said you’d follow me.”
“I-I do, but…”
“But what? You think we won’t hit 95 percent?”
“……”
“Don’t piss me off. Just say it.”
“O-okay, honestly… maybe a little bit, I guess…”
That did it. Han-seo felt like he was going to explode.
“Goddamn it!”
He shouted without meaning to, and Woo-jun flinched so hard he nearly jumped out of his seat. His eyes were already brimming with tears.
“S-sorry, Han-seo… I know I’m frustrating. I hate this about myself too. I really do… But even so… can you not hate me…?”
I really don’t want you to hate me…
As ridiculous as it was, Han-seo’s anger just… melted away. From those soft, flushed lips to the sharp line of his nose, and those petal-pink eyes like blooming spring blossoms—there wasn’t a single part of him that wasn’t beautiful.
That stupidly pretty face had been a shock to someone like Han-seo, who’d gone through life absolutely convinced he was the best-looking person on the planet, no matter what anyone said.
“It’s fine. People get like that. Don’t let it get to you. Stand tall!”
“Mm… thanks…”
Yeah, exactly. It’s fine. With a face like that, he could get away with way more. Han-seo’s voice softened, practically oozing affection now. Sensing the shift, Woo-jun scooted even closer, subtly leaning into him.
“And don’t stress too much. Even if we don’t hit 95 percent, we can still register as a Bonded Pair.”
“Huh? How…?”
“We’ll just move. Naturalize somewhere else. Any country would kill to have an S-Class Pair. They’d probably bow while thanking us.”
South Korea, despite its tiny landmass, had one of the highest Esper emergence rates in the world—and was also one of the most organized when it came to dungeon management.
An S-Class Bonded Pair? Countries would fall over themselves to take them. Of course, once they moved, the reality would probably be brutal—fighting like dogs in some hellish environment. At the time, Han-seo had no idea Woo-jun would end up doing that anyway, right here in Korea.
Still, even if the constant battles left them drained and breathless—
“That’s a relief… Then I really get to stay with you, right?”
“Yeah.”
A sweet hell together was a thousand times better than a lonely paradise apart. Han-seo believed that with everything he had. And he was sure Woo-jun felt the same.
“Oh right—do you speak English? Or any other languages?”
“Well, I got the top score in English on the CSAT. A-and I always did in the mock exams too…”
“Whoa, mock exams? CSAT? Damn, you reek of civilian life.”
To someone like Han-seo, who’d never even had time to finish school before his whole life was rerouted, it felt surreal—watching Woo-jun stammer out his scores like they were some kind of humble brag. So this is what they meant by still being soft and downy.
Knock knock.
“They’re ready for you.”
Just as their silly conversation had started to warm up, the assistant director knocked and stepped in, a determined look on his face. He led them back toward the Director’s Office.
Still stiff with nerves, Woo-jun walked like his joints were creaking. Meanwhile, Han-seo, dressed in a loose hoodie, strolled along humming to himself, completely at ease.
The Director was still in his chair, sighing like a man who’d just been chewed out from above. Judging from his face, someone higher up had ripped into him pretty hard.
Not that it had anything to do with Han-seo.
Tsk. Maybe I should’ve just led with the threat—tell them I’d naturalize somewhere else if they didn’t approve. That would’ve gotten them to greenlight it immediately.
…No, not yet. Better to wait until after the Director gave his answer. No sense playing that card too early.
Han-seo gave a slight shake of his head, silently warning himself. If he stirred up the higher-ups for no reason, they might start digging into his dad’s law firm or nitpicking his mom’s business just for sport.
When you’ve got a lot, you’ve got a lot to lose.
Back in his late teens, when he hit his limit and said he couldn’t take the experiments anymore, he’d gone on strike for nearly a month. In response, the government raided his maternal grandfather’s company, launching a baseless prosecution investigation.
The media followed suit—turning his father’s clean courtroom win into a fabricated scandal, claiming witness tampering for days on end.
That was the life Han-seo had lived for over a decade. And it had taught him exactly where the line was. Screaming at the Center Director to approve a Matching Rate test? Safely within bounds. But the naturalization threat? That was his ace in the hole—and he’d only play it when absolutely necessary.
“Haaah…”
“So? What did they say?”
“They agreed—for now. But it better not be 90. Or 91. Like you so boldly declared, it needs to be at least 95 percent. Got it?”
“Of course. Let’s start the test right away.”
Thankfully, it looked like they’d avoided a head-on collision with the government. At a subtle nod from the Director, two staffers came in, wheeling a massive piece of equipment that clearly hadn’t been thrown together last minute. This wasn’t the standard tester from the Guiding Room—it was the advanced analyzer from the lab. The kind that calculated Matching Rates down to the third decimal place.
Han-seo and Woo-jun stood side by side with the machine between them. The lab techs quickly got to work, attaching a maze of sensor wires to their bodies. At each sharp beep of the machine, the two of them sent out synchronized wave signals, just as instructed.
Unlike the portable device, this full-scale test took a grueling two hours.
Even the Director was holding his breath now, standing still with arms crossed. The lab staff looked just as tense—understandably so. Depending on the result, the Center’s entire future strategy might change. For the researchers, who’d spent years focused on this single project, it might mean having to shut it down for good.
By the time sweat had pooled on Woo-jun’s forehead and started dripping from his chin, the machine finally powered down.
“T-the results… are in.”
Gulp. Someone swallowed audibly. The researcher holding the printed report had hands trembling so badly, the paper rustled like leaves.
“Esper Park Woo-jun, Guide Lee Han-seo… their Matching Rate has been recorded at… 97.236 percent.”
Silence fell.
The whole room froze—mouths open, eyes wide, minds blank.
Everyone, except one person.
“See? What’d I tell you?”
Han-seo’s voice didn’t carry a hint of surprise.
Because destiny was no exception to the rules—it played by the same logic as everything else.
Winner. Takes. All.
And when it came to this match, Han-seo had always planned to win. No matter what.
***
“Ugh, I still get pissed off just thinking about that day.”
“I-I’m sorryyy…”
Han-seo narrowed his eyes and shot Woo-jun a deadly glare. Every time that day came up, Woo-jun’s response was always the same: “I’m sorry.” Not that it was much different from his usual behavior—apologizing was practically his default setting.
“Park Woo-jun. Be honest. If I hadn’t dragged you into that test, you were seriously planning to meet with another Guide, weren’t you? Take a Matching Test, bond with someone else. Right?”
“N-nooo… I wasn’t…”
“I hate you.”
“You hate me? For real?”
And just like that, the kiss attack started.
Knowing exactly when he was at a disadvantage, Woo-jun played his trump card—planting kisses all over Han-seo’s cheeks with each word. Smooch, smooch, smooch. And, of course, Han-seo’s anger fizzled out instantly.
At this point, he was starting to think he was the problem—he just couldn’t stay mad.
“Ahem. I, uh, love that you two have such a strong bond—for national morale and all—but we’re arriving now, so if you could start focusing on the mission… that’d be great.”
The car began to slow, and the embarrassed voice of the driver floated up from the front seat. The two of them quickly scrambled out of the car.
“Whoa. There’s a ton of people.”
“…Yeah. Damn, this place is sucking the life outta me. I wanna go home.”
The department store, even on a weekday afternoon, was absolutely packed—shoulder to shoulder with people.
