As soon as Kim Mi-yeon dragged Han Ju-oh out, Seo-ha picked up his phone.
—The ramyun’s all soggy now.
“I realized I forgot something important. I had to go back for it… Did you wait long?”
Seo-ha’s voice was gentle and soft, tinged with an apologetic tone that hinted he’d genuinely forgotten.
—How important could it be to make you forget the ramyun I cooked?
“I didn’t even realize I had it until now.”
He stumbled over his words, feeling guilty that he hadn’t thought of that earlier before calling. There was no way someone as sharp as Moon Roi wouldn’t catch on, so the best course of action was to end the call here.
“It’s a bit hectic over here. I’ll call you back later.”
—You’re coming home tonight, right?
“I have to.”
He hadn’t signed the contract yet, and his belongings were still at Moon Roi’s place. Seo-ha leaned back in his chair, merely staring at the two untouched copies of the contract in front of him. Just as he was about to end the call with a sigh, the phone was suddenly gone from his hand.
Startled, he turned his head—and there was Han Ju-oh, standing there without a sound. Seo-ha hadn’t even heard the door open. How had he gotten in?
Just then, a gust of wind brushed through Seo-ha’s hair. He glanced at the now-open window and let out a breathless laugh in disbelief.
“Pack your things. I’m taking you with me.”
—Who the hell are you? Who do you think you are, telling Seo-ha to pack up or not… Wait a second, that voice sounds familiar?
Moon Roi’s raised voice carried clearly enough for Seo-ha to hear on the other end. But Han Ju-oh, apparently uninterested in continuing the conversation, ended the call and handed the phone back to Seo-ha.
“No need for you to freeload at someone else’s place.”
“Even so, isn’t it rude to just snatch someone’s phone like that?”
Seo-ha glared at Han Ju-oh and redialed Moon Roi.
—Who was that just now? Don’t tell me…
“Since he’s packing my stuff anyway, I’ll have him drop it off for me. I’ll text you the address. Please.”
—What? Hey…
Moon Roi said something, but Seo-ha ended the call without acknowledging it. Instead, he shot Han Ju-oh a sharp look.
“People use doors, you know.”
He pointed toward the door with his eyes.
“I’ll give you company housing, so don’t go to his house.”
“I told you not to recklessly use your abilities like that. If you’re going to do this, at least go get a proper Guiding session. This is so frustrating.”
“This is your access card.”
“…”
They were both talking past each other.
In the end, it was Seo-ha who surrendered first—not because he felt defeated, but because he was stunned by Han Ju-oh’s sheer initiative. He hadn’t even agreed to anything yet, and everything was moving so fast.
“No matter when you decide, the outcome will be the same.”
The unspoken message: So decide quickly. Like hell.
“Who knows? Maybe I’ll come up with a genius idea in the meantime.”
Seo-ha shot back without missing a beat and stood up. He gathered the contract papers.
“Sign it.”
“Instead of wasting time with me, go get a Guiding session.”
Seo-ha, like any reasonable person, grabbed the door handle—but before he could fully open it, it slammed shut with a loud thunk. This time, it wasn’t the wind. Han Ju-oh’s arm had shot out past Seo-ha’s face and slammed the door shut.
“Sign it before you go.”
“If you push me this hard, I might just flip the whole thing over.”
He wanted this decision to be made entirely of his own free will. At Seo-ha’s veiled threat, Han Ju-oh backed off. The door didn’t close again after he opened it, nor did he try to stop Seo-ha from walking out.
Finally out of the director’s office, Seo-ha took a breath, as if finally letting go of the weight on his chest.
If anyone had been watching him and Han Ju-oh this whole time, they’d probably have pounded their chest in frustration. Just when it looked like the contract would finally be signed, here he was hesitating again.
“You think I’m not frustrated too?”
He wanted to scream it out, but it just wouldn’t come. That bitter memory of hoping for a miracle only to be crushed had turned him into a coward.
“It’s not that I won’t do it.”
Seo-ha tightly rolled up the contract and gripped it hard. Even if he ended up deciding later, what would really change? No—at least this way, he’d be given time to find out more.
***
He needed information on Han Ju-oh. Not the typical, publicly available profile—the real him.
That’s why Seo-ha was currently in the company cafeteria.
He ordered a vanilla latte. He’d already had an Americano earlier, and now he was craving something sweet.
“This place is kind of fascinating.”
Seo-ha glanced at the access card he’d used to pay for the coffee. It didn’t just grant him entry—it functioned like a super-pass that worked at any cafeteria in the building.
“Nice benefits.”
They gave him a house. And now, coffee too.
With the straw in his mouth, he casually looked around. The facility’s internal layout, clearly designed to withstand monster attacks, had the unmistakable mark of major investment.
“The director’s definitely meticulous.”
Given how thoroughly everything had been prepared—as if they already knew everything about Seo-ha—there was no point being surprised by the building itself.
After briefly scanning the area, Seo-ha soon spotted a familiar face and raised his arm.
“Over here!”
The man walking by turned at the loud voice, flinching slightly when he realized he was the one being called. His bewilderment was written all over his face as he mouthed, What the hell?
Fortunately, he didn’t ignore the call and walked over, prompting Seo-ha to greet him with a bright smile.
“Guide Lee Jeong-min. We saw each other earlier, didn’t we?”
“We did, but…”
Lee Jeong-min nodded halfheartedly. They weren’t particularly close, and Seo-ha’s overly friendly demeanor didn’t exactly lower his guard.
“Why are you so wary? We’ve cleared dungeons together before.”
“Just because we’ve been in the same dungeon doesn’t make us close.”
Lee Jeong-min knew exactly who Seo-ha was. The fact that he hadn’t greeted him earlier meant they weren’t on those kinds of terms.
“Well, we can start being friendly now.”
Seo-ha gestured to an empty chair in front of him. Reluctantly, Lee Jeong-min sat down.
“What did you want to talk about?”
“Why the rush? Can’t we catch up a little first…”
“I heard you resigned from your Center. I also heard a gate opened in your dorm and left nothing intact—not even a single usable piece of furniture.”
“Th… that’s true, yeah.”
It hurt more hearing it said out loud by someone else.
“Anyway, I already know everything about Guide Baek Seo-ha, so there’s no need for small talk.”
Lee Jeong-min, who had approached Han Ju-oh earlier with a sweet smile when called, showed no further kindness to Seo-ha. Maybe it was because he’d already judged that there was nothing to gain from Seo-ha. He came off as calculating, someone who cut off people he didn’t benefit from—but for Seo-ha, that was actually a relief.
At least he wasn’t two-faced—acting kind up front while stabbing you in the back.
“You must’ve felt bad for me.”
“Huh? I mean… I was curious about how you’d make a living after quitting, but I wouldn’t go so far as to say I felt sorry.”
“Well, in that case, can I ask you something?”
“…Go ahead.”
Lee Jeong-min clearly wasn’t thrilled, but he couldn’t bring himself to flat-out reject Seo-ha’s request.
“Esper Han Ju-oh.”
The moment Seo-ha dropped the name he’d been holding back, Lee Jeong-min’s expression twisted. He’d reluctantly accepted to do a Guiding session earlier when Han Ju-oh demanded it, but the more he thought about it, the more humiliating it felt.
He had hoped that, since Han Ju-oh was an Esper, the Guiding would improve his mood and lead to some kindness in return—but there had been nothing.
This was exactly what Seo-ha was aiming for.
As soon as it became clear that his Guiding had no effect on Han Ju-oh, he received a call from the director.
‘It could’ve ended with a phone call, but my gut tells me they met in person.’
Seo-ha was sure Director Kim Mi-yeon had called Lee Jeong-min in and had him sign a non-disclosure agreement. In the midst of that, he was bound to have overheard something—and Seo-ha planned to gently dig for it.
“I want to know more about Esper Han Ju-oh.”
“You seem to know more than I do.”
Lee Jeong-min didn’t take the bait so easily.
“I don’t. I’ve only met him a few times, and he never talks about himself. On top of that, he’s trying to get me to transfer here. Don’t you think that’s suspicious? I mean, what exactly does he see in me to make such a suggestion?”
Seo-ha subtly slid his access card across the table, making sure Lee Jeong-min could see it. That alone proved he wasn’t bluffing, and Lee’s eyes narrowed in surprise.
He briefly wondered if Seo-ha had finally found someone with a high match rate—but quickly dismissed it. If something like that had happened, the rumors would’ve spread already.
“I only know what everyone else knows.”
Now convinced that Seo-ha wasn’t lying, Lee Jeong-min shook his head.
“He was one of the founding members when the Guild Leader started the White Guild. He also owns a significant share here.”
So he wasn’t just a regular Esper.
“I heard his rank was so high that the Guild Leader personally manages him—but that just means it’s even harder to get close to him.”
As Lee Jeong-min began to share what he knew, he started getting lost in his own words.
“He hasn’t paired with anyone, but he only allows pre-approved Guides near him. And every single one of them keeps their mouths shut afterward…”
Lee hesitated, as if he’d just realized something, but quickly masked it and carried on.
“Anyway, he’s like a fortress. Impenetrable.”
Seo-ha, who had been leaning over the table, straightened up.
‘The fact that the Guild Leader manages him personally means she must know his secret.’
Han Ju-oh had only shared his secret with Seo-ha because he was a special case—but they were clearly trying to prevent it from leaking any further.
‘She must see it as a potential weakness.’
Espers, while valuable, could become liabilities when too many interests were involved. In those cases, they’d need to be eliminated.
“I heard a rumor once—about a Guide with over 90% compatibility with him…”
…Over 90%?
