The doctors had always wanted that rare ability. They dreamed of creating it themselves—an Esper power capable of complete erasure. True to their mission of eliminating the gates forever, their ultimate goal had been to engineer someone who could make them vanish entirely.
The machine Seon Juho discovered and brought back from his latest expedition suggested they were exploring alternate methods as well. But the doctors he’d seen firsthand were focused solely on the powers of Espers.
They believed that Espers—new beings born to destroy the monsters pouring out of the gates—might also be capable of destroying the gates themselves. For that possibility, they had poured years into relentless research. The final drug they injected into Seon Juho had been one of their breakthroughs.
Once administered, the drug triggered a brutal Rampage. Seon Juho felt like his entire body was being torn apart. In that moment of Awakening, he annihilated every last bastard who had tormented him. That part felt good—satisfying, even. But the power surged so violently it nearly consumed him along with them.
And then Lee Tae-rim appeared. He had saved Seon Juho.
Seon Juho could still remember it clearly. The sweetness of Tae-rim’s lips. The life surging through him from Tae-rim’s Guiding. The radiance of it all.
To Seon Juho, Lee Tae-rim was light itself.
He clung to Tae-rim’s neck, burying his face in the crook and breathing him in. That intoxicating sweetness made his head spin. A soft moan slipped out of him, more a breath than a sound. He wanted Tae-rim—wanted to consume him whole.
Without realizing it, his grip on Tae-rim’s chest tightened. His body, hot and throbbing, was already nearing its limit. He was anxious that Tae-rim might wake, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop.
In the end, his restraint snapped.
Seon Juho slipped out of bed, moving as quietly as a shadow, and crept into the bathroom.
He locked the door behind him and stood before the toilet. The memory of Tae-rim’s scent flickered across his mind—and his insides burned like they were on fire. He couldn’t take it anymore.
“Haah…”
He pulled down the waistband of his underwear, and his fully erect cock sprang free, flushed and trembling with tension. He gripped the shaft, veins standing out under his palm, and started moving his hand.
His breath grew ragged. His whole body was at its limit.
He needed Tae-rim. Craved him. This wasn’t enough. Not even close.
He tightened his grip, pumping faster, picturing Tae-rim—only Tae-rim.
He wanted to release all this need into Tae-rim’s body. To bury his face in that warm skin, to inhale his scent until it filled every part of him. If just the faint trace clinging to his neck was enough to drive him crazy, he couldn’t imagine what it would be like to breathe in the pheromones pouring from Tae-rim’s deepest parts.
He was obsessed. Every inch of Tae-rim fascinated him. That sweet, irresistible body and all the pleasures it could give.
“Nggh…”
With a stifled groan, he climaxed, still lost in the fantasy of Tae-rim. His cock pulsed hard, spurting into his palm. He cupped the release instinctively, but it quickly soaked his hand.
He let out a slow breath, chest rising and falling. His palm was sticky.
Shit. Just thinking about Tae-rim again was enough to make him hard all over.
It wasn’t until he jerked off two more times that he finally managed to settle down.
He washed his hands and cock, now coated in cum, then stepped back out of the bathroom. But the moment he left, he was desperate for Tae-rim’s scent again. He wanted to crawl back into bed, wrap himself around Tae-rim, and breathe him in until he was drunk on him.
Even now, his cock stirred just thinking about it. But he held himself back.
He had to get back to him. He couldn’t stand to be apart any longer.
As he walked, he glanced down at his palm—and froze. A black mist was swirling just above the skin, like smoke licking the air. The power had appeared recently, triggered by accident during a battle with a monster. Fortunately, the first time, it had only formed a small, fist-sized wisp—small enough to hide.
Whatever this black energy was, it devoured everything it touched. Living things. Inanimate objects. Even monsters—gone, without a trace.
Looking at it now, Seon Juho couldn’t help but think of that final drug the doctors had injected into him.
Everyone who might’ve celebrated its success was already dead, but that didn’t change the outcome. The experiment had worked.
Whether it should be called erasure or something else, he didn’t know. But one thing was clear: he now had the power to make anything disappear.
He’d kept it secret. Uncovering something like this just sounded like trouble. But the wisp that had once been the size of a fist was growing larger with each appearance—and that was becoming a problem.
He could still control it perfectly, but the ability had been born of experimentation, and he had no idea what it might be doing to his body over time.
He didn’t have much attachment to life. Not really.
But when he thought of Lee Tae-rim—it was different.
The thought of someone else standing beside him in his place made his blood boil. Lee Tae-rim belonged to him. That truth was absolute.
Which meant he couldn’t die.
Seon Juho slipped quietly back into the bedroom. Tae-rim was still sleeping soundly, his breaths soft and steady. Without making a sound, Seon Juho crept into bed and pulled the blanket over himself.
He curled around Tae-rim again, drawing him close.
As he pressed his nose to the back of Tae-rim’s neck, that familiar sweetness filled his lungs once more.
Lee Tae-rim was his.
That was the one truth that would never change.
***
Jung Jae-heon sat through his Guiding, his face etched with worry.
It had been five days since he and Seon Juho arrived at the site. Ever since he’d checked Kwon Hae-beom’s Watch, he hadn’t been the same.
Fortunately, no high-grade monsters had shown up in District 1 yet, and Kwon Hae-beom had somehow managed to hold on with just medication and equipment. But to anyone watching, it was like watching someone play tug-of-war with death. People around him were thinking the same thing: Why go this far? Just accept the Guiding. Why make everyone else this anxious?
Kwon Hae-beom’s danger level was fluctuating around 70%. At 80%, a Rampage becomes imminent. With only 10% to go, Jung Jae-heon had every reason to be concerned.
Even before Choi Jiwoon appeared, Kwon Hae-beom had always been in a precarious state—but back then, his levels hovered around 60%. Now they’d jumped another 10%. It was a serious risk.
They’d learned in class that as the danger level rises, so does the pain the Esper experiences. Once it crosses 50%, headaches begin. At 60%, the pain feels like your skull is splitting. At 70%, it spreads to the whole body. Using abilities while in that state only makes the suffering worse. And yet, Kwon Hae-beom was enduring all of it—for the person he loved.
Choi Jiwoon knew this, which is why he was trying every day to convince him to accept a Guiding. But Kwon Hae-beom kept refusing. His stubbornness was almost awe-inspiring.
Honestly, considering he’d once slapped the person who Guided him and caused that entire uproar, maybe it wasn’t surprising he was digging his heels in now. It was his issue to handle. Lee Tae-rim decided not to get involved.
Once he finished Guiding Jung Jae-heon, Seon Juho came in for his turn. His danger level was at 55%. Ideally, he would’ve received a Guiding before hitting 50%, avoiding any pain at all. But when things got urgent, there wasn’t always time to be careful. Tae-rim felt bad, but there wasn’t much else he could do.
“Hyung, is it hard doing all this Guiding?”
“Hm?”
“I mean, that guy just left, and then I came right in. Isn’t that exhausting?”
“No, not at all.”
“Really?”
“Why? Do I look tired?”
“Not really… You just seem kind of down. I thought maybe it was getting to you.”
“I’m fine. I can handle three in a row, easy. Honestly, I’m more worried about you. Are the headaches bad?”
“Nah, just a little annoying. But now that you’re Guiding me, it doesn’t hurt at all.”
Tae-rim reached out and gently stroked Seon Juho’s head. Sitting close beside him with their chairs pushed together, Seon Juho was already in his arms, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Thanks to that, his danger level was dropping fast.
Seon Juho rubbed his face against Tae-rim’s shoulder, content. Tae-rim had gotten so used to the physical contact that no matter how clingy Seon Juho got, he never pushed him away. Whatever meaning was behind those touches, Tae-rim didn’t question it anymore. He just accepted it.
Even now, with Seon Juho’s arms wrapped around his waist and their bodies pressed together, there wasn’t the slightest hint of discomfort from Tae-rim. That fact alone made Seon Juho smile in quiet satisfaction. Whether it was a good thing or not, it meant Tae-rim was accepting him.
“I don’t wanna go hunting. I wish we could just stay like this forever.”
“You’ve got a job. You should earn your paycheck.”
“Hyung… don’t you think you’re a little too into money?”
“Is there anyone who doesn’t like money?”
“But you already make a ton, and all you ever talk about is money.”
“Tch. I’ve gotta think about retirement. You never know what might happen in life. That’s why it’s better to have as much as you can.”
People always say health is more important than money—but once you get old, your body’s going to break down no matter what. Everyone gets older. Everyone’s body gives out. But whether or not you have money to go to the hospital… that makes all the difference.
Think about it. Say the old guy next door is the same age as Tae-rim. He’s loaded—eats only the healthiest stuff, sees the doctor regularly. But Tae-tim can’t go because Tae-rim can’t afford it. Just thinking about that feels unbearably unfair.
That’s why, to Tae-rim, money really did matter.
Haha hes right