Lee Tae-rim shifted his seat so that Seon Juho could see his reflection in the mirror. The entire time his hair was being cut, Seon Juho never took his eyes off Tae-rim. Whenever their gazes met through the mirror as Tae-rim watched the stylist snip away with her scissors, Seon Juho would smile, eyes crinkling sweetly.
The stylist looked like she was dying to talk. Hair salons were hotbeds of chatter and gossip, and with a new face like that—especially one so ridiculously handsome, smiling like that—how could she not be itching to say something?
But with Seon Juho staring at Tae-rim without blinking, the stylist never got a chance to speak until the haircut was over.
Once they left the salon, Tae-rim glanced at Seon Juho’s freshly trimmed hair and smiled.
“You look even better now that it’s shorter.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
The way he poked his cheek with a finger, like he was asking Am I cute?, was downright adorable. Now that the haircut was done, Tae-rim figured it was time to get some training in. He took Seon Juho to the training room.
“You need to stay put here, okay?”
“Okay.”
After a week of rest, Tae-rim’s body felt stiff. He started warming up with a jog. Not long after, Seon Juho wandered over and peeked at him curiously—he must’ve been bored. Tae-rim paused the treadmill.
“Wanna try?”
He set the pace to a light walk, but Seon Juho quickly matched Tae-rim’s speed, running beside him with ease. Tae-rim kept it up for an hour before stopping, and Seon Juho stopped right alongside him. While Tae-rim was dripping with sweat and gasping for breath, Seon Juho barely looked winded. Tae-rim let out a breathless laugh.
“You’re not tired?”
“Nope. I can keep going. Even faster.”
Tae-rim was reminded all over again—an Esper really was built differently. He’d been worried about how skinny and frail Juho looked, but now it felt silly. He took Seon Juho through his full training routine. While Tae-rim ended up soaked with sweat, Seon Juho still looked fresh and clean.
He was a natural at shooting, too. As soon as Tae-rim taught him how to handle a gun, his first shot hit dead center on the target—and every shot after that hit the exact same spot. When the instructor heard Juho was an Esper, he just nodded like it all made sense. So that’s why Espers had their own training rooms. Tae-rim really felt the difference now.
After wrapping up the day’s training, Tae-rim took Seon Juho to Dr. Han and told him what had happened.
“Hmm… I think it’s fine to start him on physical training.”
“I agree.”
But Seon Juho didn’t seem happy with their conclusion.
“I don’t want to be away from hyung.”
“You can’t stay like this forever, Juho.”
“But I don’t want to….”
“Juho, remember when I taught you about money?”
“Yeah…”
“To live in this world, do you need money or not?”
“I need it…”
“That’s right, Seon Juho. If you want to keep staying with Guide Lee Tae-rim, you’re going to have to work.”
“…If I don’t work, I can’t stay with him?”
“Exactly. And at this rate, you won’t even be able to buy Guide Lee a gift. Wouldn’t that be a shame?”
“A gift…”
“Guide Lee, when’s your birthday?”
“…February.”
“Then, Seon Juho, you’ll have to start earning money by February if you want to get him a birthday present.”
This is what it’s like having a father figure in the room. With a clear goal in front of him, Seon Juho’s eyes lit up with burning determination.
“I wanna make money!”
He was technically twenty, but mentally nowhere near it—was it really okay to introduce capitalism so early? Regardless, the persuasion worked like a charm. Tae-rim was a bit stunned.
“Looks like we can fast-track the training curriculum.”
Dr. Han’s sly chuckle made him look like some shady villain. Wasn’t this the same guy who once called Juho a wild beast and said he was scary? Now look at him… Tae-rim clicked his tongue internally.
The next day, Seon Juho’s training began in earnest. He’d asked Tae-rim to stay with him on the first day, so Tae-rim tagged along. The Esper training facility wasn’t much different from the one Tae-rim usually used.
The main difference was that all the equipment was made from monster byproducts, which made them incredibly durable. Watching Juho run, Tae-rim couldn’t help but be impressed. How could that skinny body generate so much power? But again—an Esper was an Esper. There was no point overthinking it.
“Finally seeing the rookie in the flesh, huh.”
Kim Hye-min, who’d come in to work out, placed her hand casually on Seon Juho’s shoulder as he held a barbell. Juho’s eyes twitched at the contact.
“Such a wary little kitten.”
To Lee Tae-rim, Seon Juho just looked irresistibly cute—but he was still an S-rank Esper, after all. None of the others even dared approach him. That is, until Kim Hye-min strolled over, laughing heartily as she slapped Seon Juho’s sweat-soaked back with loud, smacking thuds.
Tae-rim winced. Hitting someone who was lifting a barbell seemed recklessly dangerous—but Seon Juho didn’t so much as flinch. For context, the barbell in his hands was something no ordinary person could even dream of lifting.
“Well, well. Tae-rim’s here too. Must be exhausting, babysitting this one.”
“Hello.”
Kim Hye-min grinned and walked over to Tae-rim, extending her hand. Tae-rim took it reflexively, caught off guard.
“Guiding.”
“Ah, sure.”
He slipped into it out of habit, but once again, that frustrating sensation returned—like a thick cloth was damming up the flow of a river midstream.
“Wow, no joke. That exclusive bond is something else. And he’s just a baby kitten.”
Feeling a stare, Tae-rim looked up—and found Seon Juho glaring at him with the saddest, most betrayed expression.
“Ha! Look at him—pretending to be all innocent, like he’s not an Esper. That’s terrifying. Just a second ago, he had his eyes all like this!”
Juho abruptly dropped the barbell and darted over to Tae-rim, quickly tearing their joined hands apart.
“What were you doing?”
“I—I was just guiding her?”
“Why?”
“Uh… no particular reason?”
Juho’s lips pushed into a deep pout, his expression on the verge of a full-on meltdown. Tae-rim froze.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know.”
Tae-rim swallowed hard. That little pouty face—lips jutted, brows slightly furrowed—was clearly sulking. And the reason was just as obvious. Juho took the hand Kim Hye-min had touched and rubbed it, almost like he was trying to cover it with his own scent.
It was jealousy. Plain and simple.
In most novels, the Guide would somehow miss this painfully obvious situation. Even when it was crystal clear their Esper was upset because they’d guided someone else, the protagonist would be totally oblivious.
But that’s part of the fun—yelling at the slow, clueless main character while still being hooked on the story.
Tae-rim, however, didn’t want to be that kind of protagonist. He didn’t want to say something bland and recycled like, What’s wrong? Is something bothering you? But it’s not like he could just go, Aw, are you jealous? either.
So, all he could do was sigh.
“Juho. Guiding is part of my job.”
A very precious job. The job that feeds me. The one protecting my bank account.
“Can’t I be the only one you guide?”
“Nope. Tae-rim’s super popular, you know. A fledgling like you doesn’t stand a chance at monopolizing him.”
Kim Hye-min cut in with a teasing smile. She was clearly messing with him, but the poor kid didn’t seem to pick up on it. Tae-rim rubbed his forehead in dismay.
“R-Really? But Dr. Han said hyung would keep guiding me…”
“I will. I’ll keep guiding you. Don’t worry.”
“Exactly. He’ll keep guiding you. And me. And everyone else too.”
At Kim Hye-min’s words, Juho’s face fell even harder. She burst out laughing again.
“Esper Kim Hye-min!”
“What? I didn’t lie~”
“Still…”
“Hyyuuuung…”
And with that, big fat tears began rolling down Seon Juho’s cheeks. Kim Hye-min laughed and teased, “Such a crybaby~” Seriously—was this woman just older in years but still mentally a child?
Tae-rim pulled Juho into a hug and gently patted his back. But maybe because Tae-rim hadn’t actually denied any of it, Juho showed no signs of calming down.
Eventually, Kim Hye-min, having teased enough to satisfy herself, walked off to finish her workout. The trainer nearby just shook his head—a clear signal to wrap things up for the day. Tae-rim gave a small bow, took Juho’s hand, and led him out of the training room.
Even after taking a shower, changing clothes, and heading home, Juho kept sniffling the whole way back. Once they got home, Tae-rim sat him down on the couch and tried to soothe him.
“Juho, what did I tell you we need to survive?”
“Money…”
“And what do we need to earn money?”
“Work…”
He wanted to say, So stop crying already, but the words just wouldn’t come. Juho’s teary red eyes looked so pitiful. Tae-rim pulled him into his arms again, gently patting his back as Juho hiccuped between sobs.
The truth was, Tae-rim wanted to tell him that with his current state of Incomplete Imprint, it was practically impossible for anyone else to guide with him anyway. But Dr. Han had warned him never to say that. Some Espers, he said, would deliberately complete their Imprint just to monopolize their Guide—and that they needed to be watched carefully.
Looking at Juho now, Tae-rim couldn’t help thinking: yeah… he really would do something like that.