Jung Jae-heon let out a long, heavy sigh.
He’d just heard from a few A-rank Guides close to Lee Tae-rim that Tae-rim had packed a lunch for Seon Juho. Apparently, Seon Juho had come by to eat it, and the Guides wouldn’t stop gushing about how adorable he’d been—like a puppy. Jung Jae-heon had to choke back the words rising to his throat every time.
A puppy? Seriously? A puppy?!
He already knew Seon Juho could be insufferably coy, but the word “lunchbox” paired with “puppy” struck a nerve. While he was wasting away from the stress of worrying whether Kwon Hae-beom might go into Rampage mode again, someone else was out there living a sweet, blissful romance. He was so jealous he could scream. Ridiculously, unbearably, painfully jealous.
He envied Seon Juho. He wanted to be in a relationship too.
Maybe it was the sheer roughness of life lately, but Jung Jae-heon felt like he needed something to soften the edges—something warm and tender to soak into his dry, tired existence. He craved that kind of emotional moisture in every possible way.
He figured it was time to request Matching Rate tests from other district Centers. After being around the same people for so long, no one here stirred anything in him anymore. And to make matters worse, it didn’t seem like anyone expected much from him either… That thought alone made him want to cry.
If he were an S-rank Guide, relocating would be a hassle, but as an Esper—especially an A-rank—it wasn’t difficult. Requesting a transfer to District 1 might even be welcomed.
And honestly, he’d already been tested against every S-rank Guide in Korea. The best result had been a 73%—with Lee Tae-rim.
Out of principle, Jung Jae-heon had never even looked at the Matching Rates with much younger Guides.
Sure, the higher-ups seemed to test everyone regardless of age, but he’d explicitly told them not to show him any results involving Guides with a ten-year or greater age gap. He didn’t want to risk catching feelings he had no business entertaining.
Thanks to that, no new reports had been coming in. Most Awakenings happened during adolescence, and very few occurred past the age of twenty. So the number of newly reported Guides compatible with him kept shrinking each year.
Aging, he thought, was a cruel thing.
And truthfully, even Tae-rim’s age made him feel a little guilty.
There was a ten-year gap between them.
He hadn’t matched with Tae-rim for any particular reason—it had just happened. Tae-rim had lived in District 1, so he naturally began working there. When the higher-ups tried to transfer him due to his high Matching Rate with Kwon Hae-beom, those plans were halted. That’s how he ended up tested with Jung Jae-heon as well.
It had been almost by accident. But the result? A surprising 73%.
Honestly, Jae-heon hadn’t even given Tae-rim a second thought back then.
Tae-rim had been only nineteen at the time—ten years younger. Even if he’d felt any interest, the age gap alone would’ve scared him off. Nineteen was definitely not an age he could touch.
No matter how powerful an S-rank Esper he was, the fear of prison bars still loomed large.
And regardless of how well the Matching Rate turned out, that ten-year difference gnawed at his conscience.
So he’d decided to keep it strictly professional—just receive Guiding and nothing more.
Besides, he figured, what kind of feelings could possibly develop with someone ten years younger?
But his assumptions had been completely wrong.
Guiding from an S-rank Guide had a way of making you forget about things like age.
Something deep inside him had awakened—the instinctive urge to claim this Guide as his own.
He didn’t care about Tae-rim’s reputation or what others said.
He knew, without a doubt, that he needed an S-rank Guide.
Still, he couldn’t just ignore his conscience. That’s why he’d made sure this time to have all matches with significantly younger Guides filtered out.
Because what Jung Jae-heon really wanted… wasn’t just a good match.
He wanted to fall in love.
Yes, seeing people around him fall in love made him a bit envious. But more than that, he was just plain tired of how empty his life had become.
Everything since Molt had been one long, brutal nightmare. And it wasn’t even over yet.
Cleaning up what remained of Molt was hell on earth.
Most of the remnants were researchers, and the higher-ups were hell-bent on squeezing every last drop of intel out of them.
Using mental-type Espers, they extracted all possible information before executing the criminals through formal channels.
The crimes were far too severe to spare their lives. Execution was the only fitting end.
Kwon Hae-beom had wanted to kill the bastard responsible for what happened to Choi Jiwoon with his own hands. But in the end, he couldn’t.
Maybe he’d known from the start it wasn’t possible, but that didn’t make it any easier.
Even with ability restraints on, Kwon Hae-beom had gone wild—wrecking several isolation rooms.
But there was no other choice. He had to endure it.
He desperately wanted to know everything that had happened to Choi Jiwoon, but the higher-ups kept the reports sealed, citing confidentiality.
That was the right call. Jung Jae-heon had agreed with the decision.
The man Kwon Hae-beom had hunted so obsessively… ended up going down in the most pitiful, anticlimactic way.
Everyone understood. No one blamed him.
After a few days in solitary, Kwon Hae-beom came out on his own, saying he wanted to see Jiwoon.
He seemed calmer, more collected. He quietly received Guiding from Lee Tae-rim, then went to visit Choi Jiwoon.
But Jiwoon’s condition hadn’t changed.
According to the testimony of Dr. Kim—the bastard who did this—there was no hope for Jiwoon.
He’d always been frail.
He’d been subjected to such relentless experimentation from such a young age that it was unlikely he would’ve lived long anyway. Dr. Kim had said they’d made his short life “useful”—both for avenging his comrades and for meaningful research.
He’d said it all while practically giddy.
Under the influence of a mental-type Esper, that madman had laughed like a lunatic and confessed everything in vivid detail. Jiwoon, he claimed, had been one of the most rewarding test subjects he’d ever worked on.
And that was exactly why Jung Jae-heon couldn’t let Kwon Hae-beom see the interrogation records.
Kwon Hae-beom was already at his breaking point.
Another Rampage was the last thing they needed. Jung Jae-heon was already too exhausted.
Catching Dr. Kim had brought Kwon Hae-beom a measure of closure, but his feelings for Choi Jiwoon hadn’t changed.
Jiwoon didn’t have much time left. And with him, Kwon Hae-beom’s life hung by a thread.
Choi Jiwoon had only been a C-rank Guide, with an average Matching Rate—nothing special.
But even now, it was clear—Kwon Hae-beom still loved him.
Watching Kwon Hae-beom, Jung Jae-heon couldn’t help but feel that the idea of an Esper’s emotions being entirely dictated by Matching Rate wasn’t entirely true.
Sure, Matching Rate mattered—but there were always exceptions. There was always someone who defied that rule.
He didn’t really understand it, but he decided to accept it anyway.
Still, he desperately wished that something—anything—would happen before things spiraled out of control. Fate really did have a cruel sense of timing.
Kwon Hae-beom had captured the man he’d been chasing all this time, but even so, he chose to keep going, continuing to hunt down the remaining members of Molt.
No one could’ve predicted that would end up being a twist of fate.
“Haah… I really am the only one left, huh.”
Jung Jae-heon felt genuinely on the verge of tears.
Kwon Hae-beom had gone after some Molt remnants who were trying to flee the country with forged identities—and returned with a random office worker in tow.
And from the look on his face, it was obvious he wasn’t thrilled about it.
Technically speaking, it wasn’t even Kwon Hae-beom who brought the man back.
The other Espers on the mission had forcibly brought him along, practically begging Jung Jae-heon to run a Matching Rate test between the man and Kwon Hae-beom. They were convinced a miracle had just happened.
Apparently, the guy had just been standing in the wrong place at the wrong time—behind the Molt members during the bust—and ended up taken hostage. He went through a bit of a rough patch, and during the rescue, there’d been a brief moment where he and Kwon Hae-beom made contact.
And the moment they touched, Kwon Hae-beom’s knees buckled. He collapsed right there on the spot.
He’d gotten up quickly enough, but the expression he wore as he looked at the man—and the way the man looked back—had been strange. Intense. Too loaded with meaning to ignore.
So, they brought him in.
Jung Jae-heon ordered a Guide examination just in case.
The man, perhaps sensing what was going on, stayed calm and underwent the test without fuss.
And sure enough—he was a Guide.
Kwon Hae-beom refused to have a Matching Rate test run. But his data was already registered in the system, so they didn’t actually need his permission.
Noticing the tension between the two, the higher-ups instructed Dr. Oh to run the test immediately.
And when Dr. Oh saw the results, he dropped to his knees in front of the machine.
99%.
A number so high, it was unheard of—even between fully Imprinted pairs.
The man was an A-rank Guide, and his Matching Rate with Kwon Hae-beom was a staggering 99%.
Naturally, the Center was overjoyed, welcoming the result with open arms.
But the two involved… weren’t nearly as enthusiastic.
There was a strange tension between them—charged, complicated.
Not the good kind.
The bad kind.
