“Still, he didn’t seem like someone you couldn’t talk to at all. So try having a proper conversation with him. The investigation looks like it’s wrapping up soon, too.”
According to what Jung Jae-heon had heard, the investigation would likely be handed over to a group of retired personnel, selected from a pool of volunteers. And the only district where active-duty S-rank Espers were still participating in the investigation was District 1. That was only possible because District 1 was so peaceful.
“But isn’t it kind of awkward to call someone out just to say that? Should I just casually bring it up instead? Esper Kwon Hae-beom will probably be returning to the Center soon anyway, so he can handle it then.”
“Ah, I’d really appreciate it if you could do that.”
“Right? Now that I think about it, with people waiting for any excuse to badmouth you, it’s probably best to just pass along the message and leave it at that.”
“Exactly. They’ll probably twist it into something ridiculous, like saying I called in Guide Lee Hae-il because I’m trying to monopolize not just Esper Seon Juho, but Esper Kwon Hae-beom too.”
Lee Tae-rim had thought the same thing. He had worried that calling someone into his private guiding room might come across the wrong way. In moments like this, Kim Hyo-il’s sharp intuition was a real lifesaver.
But no sooner had he heard that the message had been successfully relayed to Lee Hae-il, news came in that Kwon Hae-beom would be returning to the Center next week. Once he was back, those two would butt heads and sort it out themselves. Lee Tae-rim decided not to get involved.
***
The meeting room was thick with silence. It was a small meeting attended by the Deputy Director, a few senior staff members, and Espers Jung Jae-heon and Jeon Jun-pyo—but the topic at hand was anything but minor.
“I’m absolutely against it. It’s way too dangerous.”
“Agreed. Putting those two together is out of the question.”
It was a relief the Center Director wasn’t present. If he had been, the meeting would’ve completely derailed.
“Is it really that bad?”
“Yes. They’re Espers who’ve fought over Guides—there’s no way their relationship is even remotely friendly.”
The Deputy Director, who usually preferred to keep operations running without friction, looked genuinely troubled after hearing the two Espers’ objections.
“Even if they don’t come to physical blows, what if they start clashing on a psychological level? What then?”
Any sort of confrontation between the two had to be avoided at all costs. If someone asked who was stronger, the answer would obviously be Seon Juho—but Kwon Hae-beom wasn’t the type to back down just because his pride had taken a hit. Even if a fight between them did produce a clear winner, the tension would never go away. Neither of them would yield.
“Sigh… It’s not like handing out disciplinary action would scare them either. Seriously, what are we supposed to do here?”
“Exactly.”
“I really wish he would just get guided by Guide Lee Hae-il. Is there absolutely no way to make that happen?”
The topic of today’s meeting was Kwon Hae-beom. Once he returned, he would naturally need to resume fieldwork. The problem was, he was currently receiving Guiding only from Lee Tae-rim.
Word was that Lee Hae-il had confronted him several times, but to no avail. It was said that only Lee Tae-rim, caught in the middle, was suffering because of it.
“A week is just about the maximum he can hold out with supplements and mechanical Guiding. We need to at least consider the option of having him endure for a week and then return to the Center for Guiding from Guide Lee Tae-rim.”
“Hmm…”
Since the meeting had been convened to address Kwon Hae-beom’s Guiding issue, the Deputy Director had initially suggested rearranging the field assignments between Kwon Hae-beom and Jung Jae-heon. But both Jung Jae-heon and Jeon Jun-pyo had flatly rejected the idea. Knowing their personalities, there was no other choice.
“We can’t exactly send Guide Lee Tae-rim out twice…”
“And if we send Guide Lee Tae-rim, Esper Seon Juho will obviously follow him.”
That’s right. Which would completely defeat the purpose of trying to avoid a collision between Kwon Hae-beom and Seon Juho in the first place.
“If only Esper Kwon Hae-beom weren’t being so stubborn…”
This really shouldn’t have been the kind of issue that forced them all to bang their heads against the wall. Everyone in the room seemed to feel the same, sighing in unison. Jung Jae-heon let out a long sigh as well.
Kwon Hae-beom wasn’t the type to be stubborn about something this petty. Normally, he would’ve quietly accepted Guiding from Lee Hae-il. No one understood the agony of being unable to receive Guiding better than Kwon Hae-beom himself, so something like this shouldn’t even be happening. That is, if it were still the same Kwon Hae-beom.
It truly was a mystery. Why was Kwon Hae-beom so adamantly refusing to be guided by Lee Hae-il? Their only contact had been that brief moment when they first met. What had happened in that fleeting moment that made him dig in his heels this hard? Jung Jae-heon sincerely wanted to know the reason.
“What’s the current status of Guide Choi Jiwoon?”
“Apparently, he’s hanging on by a thread every day.”
“Tsk tsk.”
The Deputy Director clicked his tongue. Jung Jae-heon had also heard the updates. Choi Jiwoon was essentially surviving on medication alone at this point. He’d been bedridden for quite some time now. In other words, the moment he stopped taking his meds, it was over.
The only reason Choi Jiwoon was still alive was because of Kwon Hae-beom’s will—there was no willpower coming from Jiwoon himself. Kwon Hae-beom had to be aware of that. That keeping him alive in such agony wasn’t kindness, and that letting go might actually be the better choice—for Jiwoon’s sake. But he couldn’t bring himself to let go. Jung Jae-heon understood Kwon Hae-beom’s feelings, yet couldn’t help but find them incomprehensible.
Jung Jae-heon was most worried about what would happen after Choi Jiwoon died. In the worst-case scenario, Kwon Hae-beom might go into Rampage. He prayed it wouldn’t come to that, but there was no predicting how people would react. No amount of mental preparation could ever fully brace you for death.
And it wasn’t as if they had just known each other in passing—they’d been passionately in love. If Choi Jiwoon hadn’t been a spy, he would’ve been Kwon Hae-beom’s first and last love. That was what a Guide meant to an Esper.
Jung Jae-heon had once had a Guide like that, too. An A-rank Guide with a Matching Rate of exactly 80%. From the start, the connection had felt right. They’d met with mutual affection, grown close, and eventually started dating. That Guide had been his first love.
But Jae-heon hadn’t been able to stay with that first love. In the most absurd way imaginable, he’d received a sudden notice from the higher-ups one day. The Guide had formed an Imprint with an S-rank Esper from another district and transferred to that district—just like that. It had only been a notice. Nothing more.
He didn’t even get to go through the typical pathetic kind of breakup everyone else had. That Guide, who’d supposedly gone on vacation with their family, never returned—and Jung Jae-heon never saw them again.
That was when he learned that when you’re truly dumbfounded, you can’t even get angry. He couldn’t tell whether he was dreaming or awake. Even when he tried to call, the Guide didn’t answer. They must have blocked his number.
The higher-ups kept the district the Guide had transferred to strictly confidential. It was to prevent clashes between S-rank Espers. Jae-heon had nowhere to vent his rage. What made it worse—what really drove him mad—was that he couldn’t even ask the Guide why. Thankfully, he hadn’t gone into Rampage, but he had grown harsher.
In a fit of impulsive anger, he transferred to District 4 and nearly had a Rampage incident of his own. That had been the roughest period of his life.
Even now, Jung Jae-heon occasionally thought about that Guide. He wasn’t curious about the reasons anymore. What did it matter why they cheated? He just wanted to punch them with everything he had. In other words, he wanted to kill them.
The fact that those feelings still lingered after all this time made one thing perfectly clear: Guides were truly, in every possible way, essential to Espers. When Choi Jiwoon died, would Kwon Hae-beom be able to forget him? And what would happen with Lee Hae-il? The more he thought about it, the more complicated it all seemed.
The meeting, in the end, wrapped up with nothing really decided.
As planned, Kwon Hae-beom returned to the Center. And not long after his return, he had to face Choi Jiwoon’s death.
He received the call while training. He rushed to the hospital, but even then, all he could do was watch from a distance as Jiwoon passed. Even in his final moments, Choi Jiwoon fiercely resisted any contact with an Esper’s Wavelength.
Jung Jae-heon and Kim Hye-min, who had followed closely behind the rushing Kwon Hae-beom, hovered anxiously nearby, unsure what he might do. But Kwon Hae-beom simply stood outside, staring silently through the window of the hospital room where Jiwoon was dying. Jiwoon, barely visible from that distance, took his last breath within thirty minutes of Hae-beom’s arrival.
Only after Choi Jiwoon died was Kwon Hae-beom allowed to approach. That day, for the first time, Jung Jae-heon saw Kwon Hae-beom cry.
Thankfully, he didn’t go into Rampage. He didn’t scream that he wanted to die, either. He just quietly drowned in sorrow.
To prepare for any unpredictable aftermath, the S-rank Espers took turns voluntarily staying at Kwon Hae-beom’s house. He had always been gaunt, but after Jiwoon’s death, he grew even thinner. No matter how much they tried to feed him, he couldn’t eat a thing.
In the end, the Center prescribed him tranquilizers. Esper-grade tranquilizers were brutally strong—once injected, they left you dazed for more than half a day. But Kwon Hae-beom accepted the injections without a word of resistance.
And in that vulnerable window, Lee Hae-il began Guiding him.
Kwon Hae-beom accepted that too, without protest. Lee Hae-il didn’t look particularly pleased as he guided the half-vacant Hae-beom, but he still performed the task diligently. Perhaps because it was work—because it was duty—Lee Hae-il remained committed to Guiding him.
Damn…