Because he’d once been a test subject, there was a brief thought that maybe he emitted some kind of special wavelength—but Seon Juho was far too normal for that to be the case.
When he was first brought in, extensive testing revealed traces of all kinds of drug compounds in his system. As a result, he underwent a full diagnostic every two weeks. Fortunately, the test results showed those substances steadily fading from his body over time.
He was such a powerful Esper that most drugs didn’t even work on him anymore. These days, he was practically the picture of health.
Still, as time went on, the other Espers couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of disconnect around him. He was human, sure—but it was like he belonged in a different category altogether. No one could quite explain it, but there was definitely something off. Not that Seon Juho seemed to notice or care.
Just two days after returning from his last deployment, he was back in the field. It was time to return to his original duties in District 1. Missions in Districts 3 and 4 required over ten hours of continuous hunting, which meant the Guides accompanying those missions ended up just as exhausted. That’s why Lee Tae-rim, who’d been out on back-to-back assignments, looked visibly drained.
District 1, in contrast, was practically peaceful. You’d head out to the field around 8 or 9 a.m., and be back at the Dorm by 5 or 6 in the evening. Depending on how active the Gates were, you might hunt a bit longer—or call it a day early.
So when someone used to that kind of routine got reassigned to the intensity of Districts 3 and 4, the shock was real. Officially, it was an eight-hour shift, but if even one S-rank Gate opened, you had to drop everything and head back out—no exceptions. S-rank Gates were mandatory.
Even now, Seon Juho was throwing on his usual charm for the tired Lee Tae-rim, acting cute in the way only he could. And despite how ridiculous it looked, Lee Tae-rim seemed genuinely comforted by it.
Jung Jae-heon watched the whole thing, his stomach churning at the nauseating sight of a predator scarier than any monster grinning innocently in front of his Guide like he was harmless. Seon Juho was an Esper just like him, but honestly, the guy acted so two-faced it made you wonder if he had Dissociative Identity Disorder.
“I don’t wanna gooo.”
Even now, Seon Juho was clinging to Lee Tae-rim at the field entrance, folding his large frame into his arms and whining. The words might have been sincere, but the act was pure theater. It was so painfully cringe that Jung Jae-heon could barely look.
“Come on, let’s go. What do you have to do if you want to make money?”
“…Work.”
“Good boy.”
“Hyuuuung~”
Jung Jae-heon wanted to grab Seon Juho by the collar and drag him off, but despite the childish behavior, the aura that lingered around him was too terrifying to approach. All he could do was squint into the distance and pretend he was lost in thought. Maybe if he had someone to be sweet with, this wouldn’t be so infuriating. A figurative raincloud settled over his heart.
“Be careful out there.”
“Mm.”
Really, it wasn’t Seon Juho who needed to be careful—it was the monsters. Jung Jae-heon had plenty to say but kept it to himself. The moment Lee Tae-rim was out of sight, Seon Juho’s face went completely blank, like a mask falling off. No matter how many times he saw it, it still sent a chill down his spine. Creepy.
“District 1’s the best, right?”
“……”
For an Esper, nothing mattered more than the safety of their Guide. In that sense, Districts 3 and 4 were the worst. The Gates already caused enough chaos—if something went wrong on top of that, there was no saving it.
“Still, you can’t let your guard down.”
“Right.”
That’s why Jung Jae-heon had increased the number of Espers assigned to guard the Guiding Rooms. Especially around the S-rank Guiding Room, every guard was handpicked from the A-ranks.
“Until you Imprint him, Tae-rim is still my precious Guide too.”
He said it with a sweet smile, knowing full well it would get under Seon Juho’s skin. And sure enough, Seon Juho shot him a glare so sharp it could kill. It was intense enough to make anyone flinch—but Seon Juho got jealous so often that by now, it gave Jung Jae-heon the nerve to keep pushing his buttons.
He was also one of the Espers who received Guiding from Lee Tae-rim, after all—of course he’d do everything he could to protect him. Seon Juho knew that too. That’s probably why all he did was glare.
“Hope you rot as a bitter old bachelor.”
With that parting curse, Seon Juho walked off. Jung Jae-heon sputtered, “You little—!” in outrage, but didn’t dare go after him.
Too scary.
Still… what if he did end up dying single?
Jung Jae-heon let out a heavy sigh. Praying that his own springtime might come someday, he went back to hunting monsters.
***
District 3 was even more hectic than District 4. Over ten S-rank Gates had erupted at once, forcing Seon Juho to hunt for nearly thirteen hours straight. Lee Tae-rim, too, had to tough it out in the Guiding Room, nodding off as he tried to stay awake. He managed to get a deep sleep afterward, but the next morning, the District 3 Center Director suddenly barged in—leaving him not just physically but mentally drained.
The director had earnestly begged Seon Juho to transfer over, promising exceptional treatment if he agreed to join District 3. But Seon Juho shut it down without a second thought.
“My hyung’s too tired, so no.”
He tried to sound grown-up, ending his sentence in a polite tone, but calling Tae-rim “my hyung” ruined it. He was doing his best to learn proper speech, but honorifics still didn’t come naturally. Still, for someone who’d been locked away for ten years, he was picking things up surprisingly fast. Our Juho really is smart, Tae-rim couldn’t help but think, in a moment of indulgent fondness.
With that irrefutable reason, the Center Director had no choice but to back off. He turned his attention to Tae-rim instead, hoping for a different outcome—but Tae-rim, fresh off a stint in District 1, also found District 3 far too exhausting. He deflected with a vague smile and declined. Rejected by both, the director left looking utterly defeated.
“Ugh… that’s the spot.”
When they got back to District 1 and Tae-rim still seemed worn out, Seon Juho had eagerly searched through massage videos online before giving it a go himself. Being an Esper, he barely needed to exert any effort—but it felt so good Tae-rim thought he might get addicted. It was that dangerously satisfying kind of relief.
“Feels good?”
“Yeah. It’s perfect.”
It felt so good that groans slipped out on their own. The kind of gruff “Ahhh” and “Mmph” noises middle-aged men made. It couldn’t be helped. His body might be young, but mentally, he was nearing uncle status. Of course he sounded like one.
Tae-rim had tried to return the favor and give Seon Juho a massage too, but that was a lost cause. His shoulders were so thick and solid that Tae-rim could barely get a grip. He gave it his best shot, kneading away with determination, but all Seon Juho did was laugh and say it tickled. His pride as a man took a hit, but he comforted himself with a sigh—he’s an Esper, after all.
Tae-rim thought he was groaning like an old man, but in reality, that couldn’t be further from the truth. To Seon Juho, every breathy moan slipping from Tae-rim’s lips sent his imagination into dangerous territory.
The way Tae-rim casually walked out in nothing but a bathrobe after showering—like Seon Juho was just some harmless kid—it drove him insane. The way his chest peeked through the parted robe, those glimpses of his thighs… it was like heaven for the eyes.
He might be treated like a kid now, but Seon Juho had a hunch—sooner or later, Tae-rim would have no choice but to see him as a man. That certainty only grew the more his pheromones thickened, and the more sensitively Tae-rim reacted to them.
“Ahh… mm…”
What if those moans were just a little wetter, a little breathier? He was already painfully aroused just from this. God, the anticipation was driving him crazy.
“Let’s go to sleep. I’m tired.”
Tae-rim, all limp from the massage, yawned as he crawled under the covers. As always, he turned his back to Seon Juho and settled in comfortably. Seon Juho wrapped himself around him and, just like always, buried his nose in the back of Tae-rim’s neck. The way Tae-rim had grown completely accustomed to his touch filled him with quiet joy. He was too precious for words.
As Tae-rim’s breathing deepened into sleep, Seon Juho released his pheromones. Tae-rim’s breath grew even softer, even slower. Watching him fall asleep in his arms, surrounded by his scent, filled Seon Juho with overwhelming satisfaction.
“Haah… hyung…”
Now that he knew Tae-rim wouldn’t wake easily, Seon Juho boldly slipped a hand over his chest.
“Mm…”
A faint whimper, half-sigh, half-moan, escaped Tae-rim’s lips—and the sound only stoked the fire in Seon Juho’s gut. Even though he was only touching over Tae-rim’s clothes, he could feel the soft mound pressing against his fingertips. The realization that it was right there had him shaking with arousal.
“God… your scent…”
As his own pheromones thickened, so did Tae-rim’s—growing sweeter, richer, more intoxicating. Like an overripe fruit daring him to take a bite, wrapping around him in a dizzying haze. And he had to just sit here and smell it?
This was torture. Pure, exquisite torture.
Seon Juho swallowed dryly, leaned in, and gently sucked on the back of Tae-rim’s neck. He was trying to be careful, but even so, a faint mark was left behind. Tae-rim hadn’t noticed yet—thank God. Or maybe it would’ve been better if he had noticed? He couldn’t tell. His thoughts wavered wildly between guilt and desire.
He kept kissing the nape of his neck, breathing in that addictive scent. It made his head spin.
Why does he smell so good? Why do I react like this? The same questions haunted him again tonight. But the moment he had Tae-rim in his arms, none of that mattered anymore.
He’s the first and last person I’ll ever have. Just having him here in my arms is enough.
And that was exactly why he couldn’t forgive anyone who tried to come between them.
He didn’t know if his instincts were right, but every time he thought about Molt, he had this bone-deep certainty that Tae-rim would be in danger. The feeling was so strong, he wanted to stick by him day and night—but he was scared. Scared of pushing too far and making Tae-rim hate him.
But what if something did happen while he wasn’t around?
“Hyung… Hyung…”
Tae-rim let out a soft, sighing moan in his sleep, as if answering the ache in Seon Juho’s voice.
My treasure. My everything.
Seon Juho couldn’t sleep a wink.
