Snowflakes drifted down, scattered by the wind. A sudden gust shook the tree branches, knocking clumps of snow to the ground with soft thuds. The frozen lake, locked in the grip of a harsh winter, gleamed coldly under the light.
In front of a mansion nestled deep within the silent mountains, a massive man lay sprawled on the torn, trampled earth. His fingers twitched faintly. Dried blood crusted on his eyelids as they trembled, then slowly began to open.
Dark brown irises were revealed, darting anxiously around him. …There was no one else.
Not a single trace of another soul could be sensed.
Still, Shim Tae-seong staggered to his feet, scanning the area in vain. Cha Eun-soo’s crying voice, which he had heard just before losing consciousness, still seemed to echo in his ears.
He remembered the look of desperate struggle, how Eun-soo had thrashed about, worrying for him despite the risk of injuring his own throat. The last thing Tae-seong had seen was the bastard enemy’s damned face—but in that fleeting moment, he’d also caught a glimpse of Cha Eun-soo’s expression:
As if he were the one dying. Utterly pale. Horribly stricken.
“…Young Master.”
His cracked voice floated through the air, searching for someone no longer there.
All his past vows to protect him—to never let him be taken—felt hollow now. A moment of carelessness, lulled by the stable wave pattern of his ability, had left him open. His attention, consumed by Cha Eun-soo’s imminent danger, had let defeat take him by surprise.
His fist clenched so tightly it made an audible crack. Even with neatly trimmed nails, he drove them hard into his palm, drawing blood. The snowflake that had landed gently on his knuckles melted in an instant, scorched away by that violent heat.
An unbearable pain tore through him—as if half his heart had been ripped out. He would’ve welcomed it, even preferred it, if it meant he could just get Cha Eun-soo back. Get his life back.
But there was no way to reach Cha Eun-soo right now. His ability didn’t target people—it required a fixed location.
It was hopeless.
…He wanted to kill.
The enemy’s face—so smug, acting like Cha Eun-soo was his by right—flashed through his mind. It didn’t matter how he had found this place. His power was possession, and the bastard had likely been tailing them, jumping from host to host.
It wouldn’t be far-fetched to say he’d had eyes everywhere.
The grief that never got easier, the fury, the murderous hatred—every dark emotion surged from the pit of his soul and ignited his whole body.
His ability flared violently, out of control.
Zzzzzzziik.
The air around him tore open with shrill, slicing sounds. Nearby plants began to vanish, swallowed into nothing. Not even Shim Tae-seong, the wielder of the power, knew where they were being transported. He wasn’t wielding his ability—his ability was being driven by his rage.
But still…
Was it possible… to move objects without even touching them?
Shim Tae-seong’s face regained its reason. At the same time, the wild dispersion of his ability ceased. If he could learn to control it properly… wouldn’t he be able to activate his power just by sharing the same space as Cha Eun-soo?
He forced his thoughts to cool down.
***
Espers possess remarkable regenerative abilities. The injuries Joo Cheong-gyeong had sustained during his fight with Shim Tae-seong weren’t exactly fatal, but they had certainly been severe—and yet, by the time he arrived at this base, they were already nearly healed. Since I’d seen his entire exposed body, I couldn’t help but be taken aback.
And Shim Tae-seong as well.
Using my third eye for just a moment, I had managed to check on him and feel somewhat reassured. He was still in the process of healing on his own, and although he hadn’t received any emergency treatment yet, he had regained consciousness.
Still, I’d been holding my breath, fearing he might go into a full-blown rampage. After all, he had overexerted himself suddenly in the fight with Joo Cheong-gyeong and lost control of his power. It seemed to have been a temporary phenomenon.
………
My eyes opened slowly.
The room was quiet. I was the only one there.
Joo Cheong-gyeong, who had stayed by my side until I fell asleep, was gone. Last night, while washing me, he had behaved as if it were some sort of sensory play… but in the end, he restrained himself and walked away, probably to take care of other business.
Honestly… it feels like he’s just fattening me up before devouring me. And most likely, that’s exactly what he’s doing.
Knock, knock. A knock came at the door.
“I’ve come to prepare your breakfast.”
A polite voice followed. A chill ran down my spine as I realized they’d sensed I was awake. I hadn’t even gotten out of bed—just shifted slightly—but they somehow knew. An Esper, no doubt.
I sat up.
“…Okay.”
Even though I answered softly, they heard me immediately and entered.
He was dressed in black clothing that looked easy to move in. The same man who had held me from behind and pressed a blade to my neck.
His actions now were the complete opposite of back then. Of course, he was probably just following orders.
I stared blankly as he carefully laid out the food, but then our eyes met.
It was only for the briefest moment. The man quickly averted his gaze and returned to calmly arranging the utensils as if nothing had happened.
Well, would you look at that…
I narrowed my eyes and studied him.
Thinking about it, it wouldn’t be strange if someone like him was curious about me. After all, Joo Cheong-gyeong had gone to considerable lengths to bring me here. As an Esper, wouldn’t he be most intrigued by what kind of exceptional Guide I was?
I suddenly checked over my own body.
There were no restraints on me. Not a single one.
They probably figured—how far could I even get if I tried to run?
Of course they’d act like that. In a place swarming with Espers—especially within the domain of an S-rank like Joo Cheong-gyeong—what could a powerless Guide possibly do to escape?
But strictly speaking, I wasn’t just any powerless Guide. A Guide’s strength lies in guiding.
Besides, success and attempt are two different things. Even if I’d come along quietly, wouldn’t it be stranger if I didn’t think about running away from a criminal? I’d barely even caught my breath after being kidnapped before I was tossed into a bathroom and made to comply with Joo Cheong-gyeong’s whims.
How could I not be terrified of what comes next?
“Um…”
The Esper turned toward me at the sound of my voice. I cast my eyes down with a sorrowful look.
“Could I… make just one phone call?”
“If that’s not possible… even a message would do…”
Even though I already knew the answer would be no, I made the request with a pleading tone. The man paused in silence for a moment.
“…I’m sorry.”
“The Head has given strict orders to block all external communication.”
Of course. I knew that.
But it didn’t really matter. That had only been an excuse—a way to spark the tears.
I bowed my head low. As my shoulders began to shake and I broke into sobs, the Esper fell still, no longer moving. He just stood there, watching me quietly.
But he couldn’t maintain that reaction for long. When he saw the tears dripping onto the blanket, one after another, he finally approached, holding something to wipe them with.
Sniffling, I looked at the tissue he held out in front of me. And the bit of exposed skin above the glove on his wrist.
“…Thank you.”
Pretending to take the tissue, I gently pressed my fingertip to that spot. Compared to the S-ranks, the resonance was weak—but it wasn’t exactly in top condition either. Still… it might be enough.
The Guides stationed in this organization must be lower-ranked than this Esper. This would probably work.
With that certainty blooming in my chest, I looked up at him.
“How could… how could something like this…”
The Esper’s face filled my vision, eyes fixed on me in a daze. It was the expression of someone encountering something surreal, almost otherworldly.
From the way he looked completely stunned by such a simple touch, it was clear he was experiencing a very noticeable shift.
As if to say I had no intention of denying I’d orchestrated this—I reached out and wrapped my hand fully around his wrist. Then, I parted my lips.
“…Please, I’m begging you.”
Tear-streaked face. Desperate voice.
“Please… send me back.”
The longer an Esper goes without proper Guiding, the stronger their possessiveness becomes. Especially when the Guide in question is someone who can stabilize their wave pattern almost to perfection—there’s no need to even mention how quickly that affection takes root. I knew this from personal experience, having dealt with multiple S-rank Espers. So even if the effect wasn’t quite as overwhelming as with the S-ranks, this level of reaction… was more than enough.
A heavy silence stretched between us.
Even in his dazed state, this Esper seemed to be mentally replaying the situation—imagining what I must have gone through at the hands of Joo Cheong-gyeong. His eyes flickered with a confused storm of murderous intent and hesitation. Eventually, he managed to part his lips.
“…It’s… not possible.”
Such absolute loyalty. It seemed his instinct to obey was fighting against his desire to help me—he didn’t want to go against the one he served.
Or…Perhaps it was the fear of being caught in betrayal.
I gently let go of his wrist. Then I reached out with both arms and softly cupped his face.
Even though I moved deliberately, slowly, he didn’t flinch or pull away. That alone was enough of an answer.
“I don’t want to be trapped here for the rest of my life.”
“……”
“Please…”
Tears welled up and flowed down again. As I looked up at him with a quivering voice and tear-filled gaze, the Esper stood frozen, completely ensnared like someone caught in a snare.
He inhaled anxiously and exhaled with just as much unease. His fists clenched and unclenched several times, his dry lips wetted by a flick of his tongue—but his trembling eyes never once strayed from mine.
“…The Head is currently in a meeting,” the now-weakened Esper said. “If… right now…”
As he trailed off, a visible tension took over his face.
“If we leave right now, it might still be possible.”
“……!”
I widened my eyes in stunned surprise. Then, slowly, that expression gave way to a growing glimmer of hope—and I nodded, firmly, without hesitation.
