Seon Juho was just as stunned. Lee Tae-rim quickly pulled away, flustered. Seon Juho, now tearless, stared at him wide-eyed like a startled puppy. Tae-rim’s face burned hot. He reflexively pulled Seon Juho back into his arms.
“I-I’ll Guide you.”
“Mm… Hyung.”
All he’d wanted was to stop Seon Juho from crying, but his body had moved before his brain caught up. Tae-rim’s heart pounded like a drum. He could feel Seon Juho’s racing heartbeat, too. Holding him tightly, Tae-rim focused only on Guiding, while Seon Juho, finally calming down, pressed his nose against Tae-rim’s neck and breathed in deeply.
Tae-rim couldn’t even remember how he’d finished the Guiding or how Seon Juho had left. He just sat there in a daze, staring out beyond the bars where Seon Juho had disappeared. Then he froze again. What the hell was going on with his body today? It just wouldn’t listen. He was now brushing his lips with his fingertips… almost like he was savoring them.
No—he was savoring them. They’d kissed before, sure. But this time, it had just… happened. Seon Juho had looked so heartbreakingly vulnerable that Tae-rim had instinctively leaned in. Their lips had barely touched, just a soft brush before parting again, but his heart had felt like it might explode. It wasn’t even their first kiss, yet it hit completely differently.
The sensation of that kiss still lingered. Seon Juho’s lips were a bit rough—maybe from exhaustion—but they smelled… amazing. That sweet scent Tae-rim had always thought of as Seon Juho’s pheromones. Without realizing it, he drifted off again, caught in the memory of the kiss.
It was just a kiss. Like kissing a baby. So why is my heart racing like this? Why is my face so hot? Tae-rim felt completely thrown off. He knew he’d have to face Seon Juho again—but he had no idea how he was supposed to look him in the eye.
While Tae-rim was stuck wrestling with his confusion, Seon Juho was quietly humming to himself, licking his lips. Tae-rim’s scent still clung faintly to them from that brief kiss. It was impossibly sweet.
Based on how oblivious and dense Tae-rim usually was, Seon Juho had figured he’d have to be the one to initiate their first kiss. He never expected this. It was an unexpected, delightful win.
The look of shock in Tae-rim’s eyes. The soft, glistening lips. That sweet scent. And his face, blushing red like a ripe tomato. Every bit of it was irresistible.
“Ha…”
Maybe it had worked because he’d gone all in and sucked on Tae-rim’s neck like a lunatic. He did look a little more drained afterward, but Seon Juho was still perfectly fine. That didn’t stop him from playing up the exhaustion every time they met. Not entirely an act—he really had been struggling to sleep without Tae-rim.
Even though the moment Tae-rim looked away, his expression would vanish from Seon Juho’s face, the woman in the lab coat always glanced over at him with a sour look.
At first, they’d observed him closely, thinking they might discover something—anything. But in the end, all they’d learned was that Seon Juho turned into an entirely different person when he was around Tae-rim. Just like most Espers did.
It hurt to see how worn out Tae-rim looked… but when Seon Juho picked up on even the slightest shift in his emotions, he couldn’t help but feel triumphant. Tae-rim did seem to pity him. He even wore an expression that said his heart ached from how pitiful Seon Juho looked.
So Seon Juho dug right into that crack in his defenses. He read Tae-rim’s emotions through his pheromones and did everything he could to appear overwhelmed, like he was barely holding on.
Just as expected, Tae-rim started to pity him. That was when Seon Juho knew—this was the moment. So, exactly as planned, he let the tears fall in front of Tae-rim, acting like he couldn’t take it anymore.
And those tears earned him a kiss. That one, fleeting moment sent a shiver of exhilaration through him that words couldn’t even begin to describe.
The truth was, he could’ve escaped at any time. He let himself be kidnapped.
But when he saw the tears in Tae-rim’s eyes after he was taken, his vision had gone red. He’d wanted to tear all those bastards apart on the spot. Still, he’d barely managed to keep a level head and swallow his rage. Tae-rim’s tears filled him with fury—but they also grounded him.
This couldn’t continue. As long as those bastards were alive, Tae-rim would always be in danger. And it would be his fault. That’s why Seon Juho had allowed himself to be taken—biting back the urge to destroy everything in order to keep Tae-rim safe.
Those people all had to be eliminated for Tae-rim’s sake. Maybe the ones abroad were out of reach, but the ones in this country—they had to go. He couldn’t let anyone who posed a threat to Tae-rim continue breathing.
His plan was to meet up with Tae-rim once he reached the lab, wipe everything out, and escape. But then the situation shifted unexpectedly… in his favor. And so, he delayed the escape.
Tae-rim looked genuinely shaken by the sight of Seon Juho’s clothes. That chaotic wave of pheromones pouring off of him made it obvious. And for some reason, Seon Juho had one clear thought:
This is my chance.
These weren’t emotions Tae-rim had shown back at the Center. He was feeling pity. Sorrow. Pain. Helpless tenderness. His emotions were all over the place.
And Seon Juho saw his opening in the middle of that emotional storm. This was the perfect chance to change the dynamic between them. So even though he knew he shouldn’t, he quietly pushed the escape plan to the back of his mind. He felt guilty, sure—but his desire to have Tae-rim overwhelmed it.
Still, even as he wrestled with the guilt of manipulating someone he cared about, every little change in Tae-rim filled him with raw excitement. It was addictive. He couldn’t stop.
And then, as if fate were smiling on him, he got lucky. He’d figured he’d need to tear the place apart to find the information he needed to go after the others—but now, he didn’t have to. He was certain of it now: this place was the organization’s main base inside the country.
This place was on an entirely different scale from where Seon Juho had been held before. They had built an entire city underground—and they were living in it. It seemed to exist solely for research, but the sheer size was overwhelming. It was the kind of place people living above ground couldn’t even begin to imagine.
Today, for reasons unknown, the woman brought Seon Juho somewhere he’d never seen before. Dozens of researchers were scattered around, each focused on their own work. Seon Juho followed casually behind her, unfazed by the surroundings.
Strangely, unless she was taking him to see Lee Tae-rim, the woman never brought any Espers along for security.
Honestly, there was no way Seon Juho would be taken down by those mind-wrecked men—ones whose eyes had lost all focus thanks to repeated psychic attacks. Still, some security was better than none. She must’ve had her reasons, but to Seon Juho, it all seemed pointless.
“Go in.”
At her signal, Seon Juho glanced at where she was pointing, stripped off his clothes, and leapt up in a smooth motion. He used to take the stairs, but his body no longer needed them.
As he stood in the center, a capsule descended from above. The sight was all too familiar. He’d spent most of his life inside one of these. Whether he liked it or not, familiarity had settled in.
Once the capsule sealed shut, a liquid began to fill the chamber. It looked like water but felt slightly viscous—he’d heard it helped circulate the injected drugs more effectively. Seon Juho wasn’t interested in the details. What fascinated him was simply that he could breathe in it, despite its water-like appearance.
While his mind wandered, the fluid rose to his head. It felt slightly unpleasant when it filled his lungs, but not enough to bother him.
When the capsule filled completely, the drug administration began. They always used two kinds: one injected directly, and one absorbed through the skin. Seemed like they were doing both this time. A mechanical arm lowered and jabbed a needle into the side of his neck.
As an S-rank Esper, Seon Juho had long since developed a resistance to most drugs. In fact, his body was particularly resilient—hardly anything affected him. Before Awakening, he used to dread injections. Now? He didn’t feel a thing.
“How many times do I have to tell you? You can’t open Gates without limit!”
“I’m not doing it without a reason.”
“If you keep opening them too often, the resonance could destabilize the base. It could trigger an earthquake! How many times do I have to say it?”
“I’m not exceeding the usage limits.”
“Even if you’re staying within the quota, doing it daily is pushing it. You know damn well that if we get caught, it’s over.”
“…”
“I get that you want results. But don’t push it. Do you still think he’s going to screw up somehow?”
“…”
“Don’t let your stubbornness put everyone at risk.”
“…”
Before his Awakening, the liquid had made everything sound muffled—just a low hum from the outside world. But now, he could hear everything perfectly.
He didn’t know whether they assumed he couldn’t hear them, or they simply didn’t care—whether they saw him as a person or just a tool. Either way, they didn’t bother hiding their conversations.
