“……”
“Huh?”
To Kim Young-woo, who had only ever seen Yoo Ji-ho from afar, always composed and poised, the sight of him in this disheveled state didn’t feel real—even as he stood there watching it with his own eyes.
“Um… a-are you really Yoo Ji-ho?”
But as if he hadn’t even heard the question, the unkempt, unfamiliar version of Yoo Ji-ho didn’t blink once as he repeated himself again, voice unwavering.
“Where’s Baek Hye-seong?”
“I-I don’t know…”
“Where’s Baek Hye-seong?”
“L-Look, Esper—sir…”
“Where’s Baek Hye-seong?”
As the same question was asked again and again, a nameless fear crawled up Kim Young-woo’s spine, freezing his lips shut.
He tried to reason that there was no way Yoo Ji-ho would actually hurt him—but his body locked up, and his mind just… stopped. Like someone had hit the pause button. Something was clearly wrong with Yoo Ji-ho.
Still, Yoo Ji-ho gave him one more chance—with forced patience.
“How many times do I have to ask?”
“……”
Kim Young-woo barely opened his mouth to respond—only for Yoo Ji-ho to suddenly grab him by the collar and roar:
“Fuck! Where the hell is my dumbass Guide?!”
The outburst hit Kim Young-woo like a thunderclap. He went pale, snapped out of his daze, and frantically blurted out,
“I-I just know he said he was transferring to another branch and left…!”
“Ah.”
With an irritated grunt, Yoo Ji-ho shoved him away, then turned on his heel and stormed into the dorm room, tearing through the place without hesitation.
The most effective way to find out where Baek Hye-seong went would’ve been to ask the Director. But he’d only get stopped in his current state—so he’d chosen to handle it himself.
If this guy used to be his roommate, then they must’ve been close. Surely, he’d know something about Baek Hye-seong’s whereabouts. But to think he was this fucking useless.
“Shit…”
Wandering into the living room, Yoo Ji-ho opened one door and was immediately hit with a rancid stench. He slammed it shut hard enough to rattle the frame.
Suppressing the urge to vomit, he opened the other door across the hall—and was greeted by a refreshing atmosphere, like he’d walked into an entirely different place.
No clutter. No filth. The room was completely empty—and his body didn’t react with disgust. This had to be Baek Hye-seong’s room.
He stood at the doorway, staring into the space in silence—until a hesitant voice spoke up behind him, unable to hold back its curiosity.
“Um… didn’t Baek Hye-seong get fired?”
“……”
Yoo Ji-ho paused, stunned, then slowly turned around, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.
“…Fired?”
Did I hear that right?
“Yeah, I think that’s what everyone thinks. I thought he just packed his stuff and left because he got cut.”
“Fired…”
“Sorry?”
Yoo Ji-ho took a step toward him, eyes fixed on Kim Young-woo’s face. Then, up close—so close they were practically nose to nose—he demanded,
“Say it again.”
With zero hesitation, he wrapped a hand around Kim Young-woo’s throat and slammed him into the wall. He held the guy at eye level, pinning him as his legs dangled in the air and kicked against the wall.
“Gkk—Kkh!”
“Did you just say he was fired?”
Yoo Ji-ho looked at him like he couldn’t believe this reality.
“Fuck… Baek Hye-seong got fired?”
“Guh…!”
But Yoo Ji-ho had never fired Baek Hye-seong.
God, he wished he had. If he’d just accepted the Center’s suggestion and cut ties with that dumbass Guide from the beginning—like he had originally planned—things might have gone according to his blueprint.
If, when the month was up, Baek Hye-seong had left because he’d been let go, then maybe Yoo Ji-ho wouldn’t have had to suffer through this hellish feeling for the first time in his life. He might’ve gotten some sleep. He wouldn’t be spiraling in this fucking nightmare of impossibility and despair.
In every sense of the word, Baek Hye-seong had not been fired by Yoo Ji-ho.
“Kkh… K-Kk…”
The Guide’s eyes were rolling back, whites showing. Yoo Ji-ho snapped out of it just in time.
He loosened his grip, and Kim Young-woo collapsed, hacking and gasping on the floor. Yoo Ji-ho shook his hand in the air a couple of times, as if trying to wipe off the lingering touch of someone insignificant. Then he closed his eyes and took a breath. When he spoke again, his voice was calm once more.
“I’ll ask you one last time.”
Staring down coldly at the man wheezing on the ground, Yoo Ji-ho crouched and grabbed his collar again, lifting him up. The man, limp and coughing, rose with no resistance.
With his expression now neutral again, Yoo Ji-ho asked:
“So. Where is Baek Hye-seong?”
The gentleness of the tone somehow made it worse. Kim Young-woo choked out a reply with a cracked voice, still trembling:
“I-I really don’t know… I wasn’t even close with that guy. He just said he was quitting—said he was going home…”
“……”
“O-Obviously, I didn’t think he’d last long, the loser… That’s why I figured he got canned and didn’t bother asking. I swear, I don’t know anything! I really don’t…!”
Yoo Ji-ho stared silently at the tear-streaked face beneath him—eyes swollen, unable to open fully. His own expression was devoid of feeling.
His thoughts were elsewhere.
Baek Hye-seong wasn’t like this guy. He was the kind who probably got along with everyone—sweet and overly friendly, always grinning like an idiot no matter who he talked to, whether it was the Director or the doctor.
But from the beginning, this Guide had radiated nothing but hostility when it came to Baek Hye-seong.
“……”
That unexpected detail caught Yoo Ji-ho’s attention, and his gaze dropped—to the man’s neck, now blotched with red marks in the shape of his hand.
But the sight didn’t hold his focus for long. Something else had just occurred to him.
He’d forgotten about Baek Hye-seong’s file.
“We’ll meet again later.”
Without a second glance, Yoo Ji-ho let go of the now-useless Guide and left the dormitory.
***
Late in the night, after weaving through several narrow alleyways, Yoo Ji-ho finally stood in front of an unfamiliar home, laughing under his breath in disbelief.
Baek Hye-seong’s house was nestled among a cluster of old, cramped multi-family homes—and even among those, his had the most worn-down gate.
After returning from the dorm, Yoo Ji-ho had scoured his pitch-black house without turning on a single light, eventually digging up Baek Hye-seong’s information. A single scrap of paper—something he’d received not long after they’d been temporarily paired, back when he barely even remembered Baek Hye-seong’s name.
He’d gotten it from the Director, skimmed it once, then tossed it aside. Who would’ve thought that piece of paper would come in handy now?
Yoo Ji-ho stood there for a long while before finally reaching out to push the slightly ajar, rusted front gate. As expected, it creaked open without resistance.
A few more steps over the concrete led him to a low green metal door connected to the small house. He stared down at it for a moment, then descended the three steps.
He had arrived.
“…Ha.”
Standing before the door he’d worked so hard to find, Yoo Ji-ho laughed like a madman, hand over his face. He finally stopped laughing—then exhaled deeply.
He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
This was Baek Hye-seong’s house?
Living tucked away in this rundown, grimy little dump—fuck…
That he had thrown away a position that paid more than most Guides could ever dream of, all to crawl back to a place like this—it just didn’t compute. The more Yoo Ji-ho learned about the person he once dismissed as harmless and pathetic, the more it felt like Baek Hye-seong was slowly turning into the one person who drove him the most insane.
Even if he’d left because he was disappointed in him, it didn’t matter anymore. Even if he cried and screamed that he didn’t want this, Yoo Ji-ho was going to take him back. If Baek Hye-seong was the only Guide compatible with him, then whatever pathetic excuse he had for leaving—Yoo Ji-ho would drag him back regardless.
He could already sense someone moving around inside. That presence—without a doubt—belonged to Baek Hye-seong. Knowing that, he wanted to get inside faster. He reached for the door.
The metal was covered in rust. He examined the surface, then grabbed the round handle and gently turned it. There was a click as the lock caught—it wasn’t going to open that easily.
“…!”
And in that moment, he heard a woman’s cheerful laughter echoing from inside.
Baek Hye-seong didn’t have family, as far as he knew.
Gritting his teeth, Yoo Ji-ho grabbed the doorknob again. There was no need to twist it this time.
The rusty, round metal handle bent under his grip. He pulled hard. Again. And again.
With a series of loud clunks, the bolt securing the door tore loose from the wall—and the door swung open.
And there, inside—
He locked eyes with Hye-seong, frozen mid-motion with a bite of ramen halfway to his mouth.
“……”
“……”
The noodles, precariously hanging from the metal chopsticks, slid off and dropped back into the bowl with a plop.
