The two were the same age.
The newly Awakened Guide’s name was Lee Hae-il. He hadn’t undergone a Guide aptitude test since he turned twenty, so it was assumed he Awakened sometime after that. From the way he carried himself, it was clear he wasn’t at all pleased about it.
Unlike Choi Jiwoon—submissive and introverted—Lee Hae-il exuded an unshakable sense of confidence. It was obvious from the start that his personality would clash hard with Kwon Hae-beom’s. And with the two being the same age on top of that, Jung Jae-heon found himself growing increasingly concerned about Kwon Hae-beom, though for entirely different reasons than before.
Lee Hae-il had clawed his way into a major corporation after graduating college. He’d just started gaining recognition for his work and had been entrusted with a major project. But on his way to a business trip—right there at the airport—everything changed. Not only was he blindsided by a disruptive incident, but he also ran into Kwon Hae-beom… and discovered, to his utter dismay, that he was a Guide.
From the looks of it, Lee Hae-il valued his career far more than money. He seemed like the kind of person who built his path step by step with careful planning, finding satisfaction in seeing that plan come to life. Most people would be thrilled to Awaken, especially since Espers tend to make significantly more than corporate workers, but there wasn’t even the slightest trace of excitement in him. If anything, he seemed genuinely pissed. Jung Jae-heon could already tell—this guy was going to be a handful.
Still, what was done was done. He’d Awakened, and there was no undoing it. Once he accepted that, he decided to tie up loose ends in his current life and move into the Center. He agreed to undergo Guide training and, according to his contract, serve as Kwon Hae-beom’s exclusive Guide.
Worried that Lee Hae-il might flat-out reject the arrangement, the Center Director had personally called him in and drafted the contract face-to-face. Kwon Hae-beom didn’t oppose the decision, but Jung Jae-heon didn’t get the sense he was going to accept it gracefully, either. The atmosphere between the two was… peculiar, to say the least.
Please don’t tell me he’s going to start being stubborn again and insist on only being Guided by Lee Tae-rim.
Just the thought of it made Jung Jae-heon’s head throb.
Still, part of him was genuinely relieved. Regardless of how Kwon Hae-beom ended up dealing with Lee Hae-il, the fact remained—he finally had a Guide. And not just any Guide. One with a Matching Rate of 99%.
Lee Hae-il didn’t even know how to Guide properly yet, and still, just barely brushing against him had been enough to make Kwon Hae-beom collapse. Sure, the guy had been running on fumes already, but still—collapse? How good must that have felt? Jung Jae-heon couldn’t even begin to imagine it.
Even as he told himself this was a good thing, something in him burned—resentment, jealousy, something bitter and gnawing.
I’m the only one left. Just me.
Jung Jae-heon submitted a Guiding request to Lee Tae-rim.
It was a fucking miserable day.
***
Zone 1’s Center was in total upheaval.
Scratch that—the entire world was in shock.
A 99% Matching Rate without an Imprint? That kind of number wasn’t just rare—it wasn’t supposed to exist. And yet, here it was.
Lee Tae-rim couldn’t help but think: Kwon Hae-beom really did feel like the main character of a novel. It was dramatic—almost absurdly so.
After all that struggling, all those failed pairings, his true Guide had finally appeared. And this time, there was no room for debate—the Matching Rate was astronomical.
They said it was unprecedented, globally. The researchers were in a frenzy, ecstatic over a number they hadn’t even believed was possible.
But the man at the center of it all, Kwon Hae-beom, didn’t look thrilled in the slightest. On the surface, he looked the same as ever—but his expression had a quiet sourness to it.
Word was that Lee Hae-il—the Guide—would be entering the Center two weeks later, after wrapping up things in the outside world.
While Guiding Kwon Hae-beom, Lee Tae-rim had a nagging thought: Why does it feel like I’m still going to be the one Guiding him… even after Lee Hae-il shows up?
No way, right? He wouldn’t be that petty. Tae-rim forced himself to stay optimistic.
Naturally, Seon Juho was over the moon. One less rival—he couldn’t have been happier. Now all he had to do was get past Jung Jae-heon, and he was even praying for a high-Matching-Rate Guide of his own every single day.
“I saw that Guide—Lee Hae-il. From a distance.”
“What the hell are you, seriously?”
Lee Hae-il’s brief visit to the Center that day had sparked buzz, but hardly anyone had gotten a glimpse of him. Kim Hyo-il, however, was among the lucky few.
“It was a coincidence. I think he stopped by on business—left with a whole stack of documents.”
It had already been four days since Lee Hae-il’s whirlwind appearance, but since he’d only been to the research wing and the Director’s office, none of the other Guides had seen him. Curiosity was at a breaking point.
“How did you even know it was him?”
“A friend in research described him. And he matched that description exactly.”
“What did they say?”
“Perfectly tailored suit, about Tae-rim’s height, posture was military-straight—like he’d been sketched with a ruler. And his expression? Ice-cold. A little twitchy too, like he had a short fuse. He gave off this intense vibe, like he wasn’t someone you’d want to mess with.”
When Kim Hyo-il finished, the others went silent. Cold, sharp, standoffish… Sounded a lot like Kwon Hae-beom himself. Sure, he’d softened a little thanks to Choi Jiwoon, but his natural personality had always been cuttingly aloof.
“Uh… am I the only one who thinks they’re gonna clash like hell?”
“Nope, I’m right there with you.”
“Same here.”
Another stretch of silence fell. The four of them stared at their untouched drinks, faces grim.
“They’re not seriously gonna end up fighting, are they?”
“Takes some level of emotional investment to get into a fight.”
“I don’t know… if they stick to a purely professional relationship, maybe they’ll get by just fine. Ignore each other’s personalities, focus on the job.”
“But come on. A 99% Matching Rate and no emotional entanglement? Is that even possible?”
“Didn’t he collapse just from a touch? Something tells me Kwon Hae-beom hates that.”
While listening to the chatter, Lee Tae-rim recalled how Kwon Hae-beom had looked the day before. A thought struck him out of nowhere.
“I think… Kwon Hae-beom might be feeling guilty.”
“Huh?”
All eyes turned to him, puzzled. Tae-rim swallowed hard. Years of reading novels were lighting up alarms in his brain. This was the classic setup.
“Choi Jiwoon’s dying. And right when that’s happening, this perfect new Guide shows up—like the universe is telling Kwon Hae-beom to live.”
“Oh… yeah. I can see that.”
“He’s been living like he’d die if Jiwoon died. And now this… new oxygen tank appears out of nowhere. His emotions must be all over the place.”
“When you want to die but suddenly want to live again… that kind of guilt hits hard.”
And then, stuck in that guilt and unable to accept the new person, the old lover dies. And he misses his chance with the new one too. Cue the heartbreak and endless regret—that exact drama trope. Tae-rim let out a sigh. Kwon Hae-beom really was living like a protagonist out of a tragic novel.
The instinct to survive is human nature. So for someone like Kwon Hae-beom, meeting someone who reawakens that instinct must feel unbearable. His beloved is dying, and yet… his own desire to live is being pulled to the surface. He probably hates that.
God, seriously. He really didn’t want to watch another cliché spiral into a dramatic mess. Tae-rim liked regret-driven characters, sure, but only up to a point. He wasn’t into the really soul-crushing ones.
At least this time, he wouldn’t be dragged into the chaos. That alone was a relief. These days, he was Seon Juho’s officially assigned Guide, and nobody believed Juho’s Incomplete Imprint was going to resolve anytime soon.
So if things got messy, it’d be their problem.
…Or so he thought during the whole Choi Jiwoon mess, and look how that turned out. If he could Guide Kwon Hae-beom, then he’d never truly be free of him. That thought made Tae-rim uneasy.
“This is literally the plot of a drama.”
“Huh?”
“Guy can’t let go of his dead lover, ends up pushing away the new person, regrets it too late… total emotional train wreck. You’ve all seen that one, right?”
Of course it was Yoon Ye-rin. That woman’s dramatic instincts were scary sharp. Tae-rim gave her a quiet nod.
“My drama soulmate. You get it.”
They didn’t even like the same genres, but Ye-rin loved watching dramas as much as he did. She clapped gleefully.
“And the fact that their personalities don’t match just makes it even more of a cliché. Constant bickering, cold words that hit too deep, regrets piling up…”
“I’ve definitely seen something like that before.”
“Same here.”
“It’s a classic.”
As Ye-rin shrugged, Kim Hyo-il and Lee Jae-hwa let out impressed little oohs.
Unfortunately for their predictions, this particular drama wasn’t going to play out the way they expected.
Yes, Lee Hae-il was cold—but he had surprises of his own.
When he got fed up with Kwon Hae-beom’s nonsense, he’d punched him square in the face—only to fracture his own hand and end up in a cast. Then, still fuming, he punched him again with the casted hand, breaking the cast.
So yeah. Turned out Lee Hae-il was, in fact, a serious badass.
Of course, that story was still a ways off. For now, the four of them were still firmly in “melodrama prediction” mode.
“Still… I can’t help but worry about Kwon Hae-beom.”
Right now, Choi Jiwoon was like a thorn in everyone’s throat. No one wanted him to die. But the truth was, death had already come for him. And Kwon Hae-beom was living like he’d been sentenced alongside him.
Tae-rim didn’t wish for Jiwoon’s death. But… he couldn’t say he wished for him to keep living either. Jiwoon’s body was falling apart. Even lying still, he was in pain.
Tae-rim didn’t believe in forcing someone to keep living through that. If it ever happened to him, he’d make sure no one kept him alive through life support or artificial means. What was the point of clinging to life if it only brought agony?
Jiwoon wasn’t even conscious anymore, not really. He wasn’t alive out of willpower—just inertia. His life was already used up. He was only surviving thanks to painkillers, enduring one day at a time.
All because Kwon Hae-beom couldn’t let go.
