The rules had changed. And the Espers who had sexually harassed Lee Tae-rim had all been disciplined. An official notice also went up, naming the source of the malicious rumors about Lee Tae-rim. As a result, the atmosphere at District 1 Center was tense and uneasy.
“I was honestly surprised by how hard they came down.”
“Same here. I didn’t expect that either.”
The rule that Espers would be relocated to another district if over half of the available Guides who could guide them blocked them—depending on the reason—had caught even Lee Tae-rim off guard. No one wanted to get kicked out of peaceful District 1, so the Espers must’ve been in total chaos by now.
The Guides were in an uproar too. They could no longer block Espers just because they “didn’t feel like it.” For those currently blocked under that vague reasoning, the system was set to lift those blocks in three days. Unsurprisingly, some people weren’t too happy about the change.
“We don’t have any Espers we blocked without a real reason, so it’s not our problem—but people who broke up with their partner and blocked them? They’re freaking out. Saying stuff like, ‘Now we have to list that as an official reason?’”
Yoon Ye-rin, for her part, never selected one of the preset reasons when blocking someone. She always chose “Other” and wrote out exactly what the Esper had done to deserve being blocked. Considering how she once told Tae-rim to just block people if he didn’t like them, she was surprisingly diligent about submitting proper documentation.
“What’s going to happen to the Esper who kept harassing Hyo-il hyung…?”
“He’ll probably get transferred, don’t you think? That guy hit on everyone from A-ranks to C-ranks. There’s bound to be a ton of people who blocked him.”
Kim Hyo-il was delighted—not having to go through the hassle of blocking the guy himself was a relief. He was the type to put it off because he found writing up the reasons too annoying, until he finally snapped. Lee Jae-hwa, on the other hand, would give an Esper three chances. If they didn’t fix their behavior after that, then he’d block them.
“Even if we can’t block people without a reason anymore, it’s not like we’re completely powerless. You can just reject the Guiding request. Or if it really comes down to it, just write ‘we dated and broke up’ as the reason.”
“But when two people break up, don’t they usually avoid each other anyway?”
“Usually, yeah… but we’re talking about Espers. Some of them are just pathetic.”
“R-Really…?”
“Eighty percent of the time, it’s like this: they end the relationship cold and clean—but give it a little time and suddenly they regret it. Then they start poking around again with Guiding requests. If it gets worse, they’ll come find you in the Guiding Room. The real shameless ones will straight-up wait for you outside the dorm.”
“That’s why seeing all that makes me seriously reconsider dating someone within the same Center. The pathetic ones really are the worst. The only plus is that, unlike regular people, they don’t drunk-call or show up wasted. Espers don’t get drunk. But they do pull that shit completely sober.”
“Huh… I guess that’s true….”
“So in that sense, Tae-rim, you’re actually super lucky. The person you’re dating is basically your destined partner. When your Matching Rate is over 80%, couples almost never break up. They almost always end up married.”
Tae-rim had never imagined Espers being pathetic. They always seemed like the type to part ways cleanly, like, ‘We’re done. Peace out.’ But apparently, that was far from reality. He realized now that he’d been holding onto some fantasy about Espers without even knowing it.
Honestly, they were the kind of people he’d only ever seen in novels. And in those stories, the main character always had eyes for only one person. Even Seon Juho—whom Tae-rim had experienced up close—showed zero interest in anyone else. The other S-rank Espers he’d met all had good manners, too, so it was hard to imagine any of them acting like that.
“With faces like theirs, you’d think they were all perfect. But if a regular person looked closely, they’d be disappointed. I mean, just look at the guys who got disciplined for harassing you. With faces like that, why the hell would they resort to sexual harassment? And yet, they did. Because Espers are still people. Flawed and all.”
Oh, right. There was that, too. They were all ridiculously good-looking. So he’d never even imagined that those perfect faces could act so pathetically. Even after getting harassed, Tae-rim had still been thinking like that. The experience made him realize just how powerful appearances could be.
But at the time, he’d been too focused on learning to Guide, and all he had to do was give up touching the Espers directly, so it hadn’t really bothered him. Plus, he hadn’t been in this body for long back then. Worrying about those guys just didn’t seem as important as getting his life in order.
“I expected this, but still… not one person actually apologized to Tae-rim.”
Lee Jae-hwa murmured as he scrolled through the Guide message board. His expression was troubled.
“There are posts talking about how scary it is to think a mental-type Esper might’ve messed with their minds, but Tae-rim’s name isn’t even mentioned. Seriously, these people are unbelievable.”
“Yeah, well. But even if someone did write an apology on that board, it’s not like Tae-rim would even see it.”
Tae-rim scratched his head awkwardly. It was true—he didn’t read the Guide message board.
“A few people did post saying everyone should watch what they say more carefully from now on, but no one really replied to them.”
“Honestly? If you told them you got messed with by an Esper, they’d probably be thrilled. They can blame everything they’ve ever said on the Esper and call it a day. ‘Scared’ my ass. Inside, they’re probably celebrating.”
“I’m fine. I didn’t know them anyway….”
“…You really are the true winner here. Tae-rim, you’re totally right. Ignoring them is the best move.”
“Exactly. Doesn’t matter what those people say. Just live your life and be happy. And from their perspective, you’ve already won. You’re in a sweet relationship with Seon Juho Esper-nim. Maybe that’s why they’re not bringing you up anymore—’cause they’re too jealous.”
Lee Jae-hwa was right. No matter what anyone else said, as long as Tae-rim lived his life the way he wanted, that was enough. The current Tae-rim—originally 28 years old—had seen all kinds of people and could brush this off. But the original Tae-rim probably couldn’t have.
Tae-rim felt a wave of sympathy for the character he had replaced.
“Still, with these new rules, I really don’t think anyone’s going to want to date within the Center anymore.”
“Guess long-distance relationships are the only option now…”
“At this point, I just wish an Esper with over 80% Matching Rate would suddenly show up. Bonus points if they’re also an A-rank.”
“Then why not ask them to run your Matching Rate with Espers from other districts?”
“Huh?”
“Wait, I thought you couldn’t just ask for that.”
“Uh… during training, I was taught that any Awakened person can request a Matching Rate test.”
“Wait, really? I was told that wasn’t allowed. Did they change it?”
“Wasn’t it limited to Espers who couldn’t get a match with any S-rank?”
“I’m not exactly sure…”
“…Let’s look it up!”
All three of them quickly began searching, wide-eyed with surprise. The fastest was Yoon Ye-rin, who had quick fingers.
“Oh? It’s true! Transfer requests still depend on individual Center rules, but the Matching Rate test itself is open to anyone!”
“Seriously? When did that change?”
“Looks like it’s pretty recent—less than a year ago.”
“Wow… If it weren’t for you, Tae-rim, I’d have lived my whole life without ever knowing.”
“Most people don’t read legal notices or anything, so yeah, you really might’ve.”
“And the application process is super simple… you just fill out a form online…”
Shocked that they hadn’t known something so important, the three of them immediately submitted their applications. They were delighted to learn that results would come back within a week—what a world they lived in now.
“Hyo-il, we’re counting on you for the blind dates.”
“Got it.”
“Wait a sec—Jae-hwa, didn’t you say you weren’t thinking about dating? But you still applied?”
“I was just curious. No harm in knowing, right?”
“True that.”
Tae-rim suddenly found himself wondering how many Espers he had a high Matching Rate with. But if Seon Juho ever found out he’d checked that, all hell would break loose—so he let the idea go.
“Productive day. I think I’ve done everything I needed to.”
“Right? We actually learned something useful today. Thanks, Tae-rim.”
“Yeah, really—thank you, Tae-rim.”
“Let’s keep this between us until our results come in.”
“Yeah.”
“Agreed.”
Since even Kim Hyo-il hadn’t known, they figured most people probably didn’t either. The three of them shared a giddy, conspiratorial grin.
“Oh yeah. Do any of you have Guide Lee Hae-il’s contact info?”
“I could find it if I needed to. Why?”
“I need to talk to him about something…”
“Ah… is this about Esper Kwon Hae-beom?”
“Yeah.”
“Man, you’ve really been through it because of that guy.”
The three of them gave Tae-rim a knowing look without saying a word. Tae-rim kept a calm smile on the outside, but just thinking about Kwon Hae-beom made that smile feel painfully forced.
“I don’t mind him coming in for Guiding, but arguing with each other through me? That’s where I draw the line…”
“Guide Lee Hae-il’s personality is… unexpectedly tunnel-visioned. He has to see his assignments through to the very end.”
“He could just compromise, y’know… but no, he’s got that ‘never back down’ vibe.”
“Just looking at him, you’d think he was the type to coldly cut ties with anyone who crosses the line.”
Kwon Hae-beom had been framed as the problematic one in that conversation—but it wasn’t an unfair take. Just by looks alone, you’d expect Lee Hae-il to click his tongue and turn his back without a second thought. But in reality, he was relentless. The moment Kwon Hae-beom showed up, he’d come running without fail.
I want to say Go Get Him to Hae Il but they mentioned that Kwon partner’s still barely alive…