“So you actually went and got the contract.”
Kim Mi-yeon let out a quiet sigh as she looked over the contract Han Ju-oh handed her. She’d known he was close to sealing the deal, but now that it was finalized, it felt different—like she was truly standing at the summit.
She took the contract from him and passed it on to her secretary, speaking as she did.
“You know Guide Baek Seo-ha is only supposed to provide guiding in emergencies, right? Let’s call in Guide Jin Ga-min.”
The watch on Han Ju-oh’s wrist was once again displaying numbers back in the 80% range. He was probably still enduring the pain out of sheer habit.
“The other guide isn’t ready yet.”
“What? But I’m sure the contract said—”
There had been a suggestion from Baek Seo-ha to bring in two guides, and Han Ju-oh hadn’t objected. Naturally, she’d assumed they would proceed with that plan. But Han Ju-oh had found a loophole.
“It never specified when the second one would be brought in.”
In other words, he could delay bringing the other guide in until later. Kim Mi-yeon stared at him in disbelief.
“Key.”
Han Ju-oh held out his hand to her.
Kim Mi-yeon didn’t need him to explain what he wanted in that palm. She let out an incredulous scoff.
“You do realize how long we’ve known each other, right? If you could treat me with half the civility you show Guide Baek… You know what, never mind. Here.”
Seeing that he wasn’t even listening, she just placed the key in his hand. It was the key to the front door of Seo-ha’s guild housing.
Han Ju-oh flipped the card over to check the number.
“Knew you’d look.”
Kim Mi-yeon rolled her eyes and turned away. She already had enough on her plate because of Han Ju-oh, and she didn’t have time to mess around.
“You’re in charge of Guide Baek. That’s not too much to ask, is it?”
“That was always the plan.”
Since he was new to the White Guild, Ju-oh had intended to guide him through things step-by-step. Sure, Seo-ha had already managed to find the cafeteria, use his ID to get coffee, and even chat up a passing guide like it was nothing, but there were definitely things he didn’t know yet.
Han Ju-oh took off at a run back toward Seo-ha.
In the blink of an eye, he was gone, leaving the door hanging halfway open. Just as she was about to sit down, Kim Mi-yeon shook her head like she couldn’t believe him.
“Not like he’s got any real energy to give anyway.”
And yet, he was going all-in like it meant the world.
***
Meanwhile, Seo-ha was getting the full experience of being in Han Ju-oh’s orbit.
“I’m telling you, Han Ju-oh put up a wind barrier earlier. There’s definitely something going on between them.”
“And of all people, it’s Baek Seo-ha…”
“Their compatibility rate is super low, but he’s still keeping him around. That’s impressive on its own.”
“I heard from the Center that he got in the director’s good graces. Just how clingy is he?”
This felt familiar. Seo-ha wasn’t slow; it didn’t take him long to remember.
“Ha-cheol used to ride my ass like this.”
He leaned on his chin and recalled that day. Maybe Cho Ha-cheol had thought Seo-ha quitting would weaken his own position. The way he had clung to him, it was like he would’ve grabbed his clothes and stretched the collar out if he could.
“Nothing new here.”
Everyone was connected to everyone else, and nothing was more entertaining than other people’s business. No one knew that better than Seo-ha.
There was a time when just showing up would make people whisper, “Is that him?” So while the rumors no longer stung, they did leave him with other questions.
“Why isn’t anyone trying to approach me?”
Seo-ha wasn’t exactly known for warm, fuzzy relationships, but he did have a friend—Moon Roi. Sure, the guy complained about soggy ramyun from waiting on him and demanded beef in compensation, but he wasn’t a bad guy.
“Or maybe he is a bad guy?”
“Who are you calling a bad guy?”
Seo-ha looked up to see a man plop down across from him.
He pulled off his cap and shook his head, causing his hair to spring up and then settle again in a mess.
“Someone who knows I’m getting a contract bonus and is planning to milk me for all I’ve got.”
Seo-ha didn’t deny it, and Moon Roi snorted.
“Do you even have a conscience, Seo-ha?”
Moon Roi gave Seo-ha’s his travel bag, resting on another chair, and nudged him a little.
“You disappeared without a word and now you’re shamelessly asking me to look after your stuff?”
“Things just kind of ended up that way.”
He hadn’t looked back—just signed the contract and boom, a shackle on his ankle.
Okay, not a real one, but still.
He’d had to meet with someone from accounting for the bonus payout, get the card key for his new place, and even submit fingerprints—though he couldn’t quite remember what that part was for.
“They scanned my whole body.”
He stretched his arms out to show the extent of it, and Moon Roi gave him a look of disapproval.
“So you suddenly joined the White Guild. You happy about that?”
“I don’t know.”
Seo-ha laced his fingers together and rested them on top of his head. There wasn’t really a proper place to meet up, so he’d ended up visiting the cafeteria for the third time that day. It wasn’t bad, except he wished the chairs had something to lean his head against.
“I honestly don’t even know how this all happened. I just blinked, and suddenly everything had changed.”
“You signed the contract yourself—how can you not know what happened?”
“You noticed, huh?”
Seo-ha gave a sheepish grin. Moon Roi clicked his tongue and looked around.
“But still…”
While Seo-ha sipped from a teacup—he’d switched to tea after downing too much coffee—Moon Roi straightened up and asked,
“You okay with getting chewed up here too?”
Seemed like Moon Roi had picked up on the gossip floating around. Of course he had—he wasn’t an idiot. He must’ve felt all the stares too.
“This place is full of people, isn’t it? It’s the same everywhere.”
“Is now really the time to say that?”
When Moon Roi asked, Seo-ha just shrugged.
“I’ll get used to it.”
He’d already accepted this kind of treatment the moment he signed the contract.
“If nothing else, I’ve grown a thick enough skin. Stuff like this doesn’t bother me anymore.”
It wasn’t like Cho Ha-cheol was here to get in his face directly. People were just talking. That’s all.
“Actually, now that I think about it, this place might be better. At least here… I’ve got someone on my side. Ahem. An Esper.”
Saying “on my side” made his throat itch, so he cleared it awkwardly. Having a Pair Esper for the first time was weird as hell. Whether they got along or not didn’t even matter—it was still the first time he’d ever had that kind of bond, and it made him feel awkward as hell.
And saying it out loud to Moon Roi of all people only made it worse.
“Tch. You think that’s a good thing? That guy’s as good as useless.”
Moon Roi, who’d already heard the basics over the phone, didn’t sugarcoat it.
“Why do you think they slap ‘special’ on it?”
He lowered his voice, clearly not wanting others to overhear.
“It’s not like it’s some ‘special’ body part. It’s just a conditional Pairing.”
“It was the best option I had.”
The bitterness in Seo-ha’s mouth made him fish the teabag out of his cup for no real reason. It wasn’t really caused by the tea. He just didn’t like how he couldn’t form normal relationships like everyone else.
“Let’s think of it this way—it’s someone who needs me.”
Seo-ha quickly shook off the gloom and gave Moon Roi a grin. The farm work might’ve been postponed, but he was still a Guide.
“I’m doing just fine, Roi.”
“Oh, give me a break. Who said anything about whether you’re fine? I’m asking if you’re just gonna let those people keep flapping their mouths. You’re seriously…”
Moon Roi started to say something, then cut himself off with a grumble. Seo-ha saying he was “fine” had hit harder than expected.
“What do you want me to say? Just leave it to me. I’ll flip this whole guild on its head today if I have to.”
Moon Roi swept his gaze around the room, speaking loud enough for everyone nearby to hear. He knew full well it would only rile things up more. But Seo-ha shook his head.
“Just let it go. We can’t stop it anyway.”
Sure, if he made a big scene now, things would settle down for the moment. But how long would that last? The same people would talk again, and new ones would join in.
He knew how this world worked. There was no point in resisting it. Acceptance came faster now.
“If we just wait it out…”
BANG!
A deafening crash and a rush of air brushed past Seo-ha’s face. He blinked, wondering what the hell just happened. Did… someone just go flying past him?
Judging by Moon Roi’s expression, he hadn’t imagined it. His own face probably looked exactly the same—eyes wide, mouth agape in shock. Normally, he would’ve jammed a finger in that gaping mouth and aimed for his uvula, but he wasn’t in the best shape right now.
As he forced his neck to turn—
THUD!
“Kraaagh!”
Another person slammed into the ground.
BANG BANG BANG.
People were ricocheting off the walls like bullets. It was almost like a gate had opened right there in the cafeteria.
The one behind the carnage finally showed himself.
Han Ju-oh landed lightly beside Seo-ha, then without a word, kicked an Esper writhing on the floor and sent him flying.
“Aaargh!”
The others had only hit the wall once, but this Esper was the only one to be launched twice.
As Seo-ha looked down at the now-unconscious Esper, his pupils shook and shifted toward Han Ju-oh.
‘Is he trying to scare me?’
Like, “Now that we’re under contract, keep your mouth shut”?
If so, it was pretty damn effective.
Seo-ha’s throat had gone cold, and he instinctively rubbed it. Then Han Ju-oh, who had just been hurling Espers around like it was nothing, finally spoke.
“If anyone insults my Guide again…”
Seo-ha froze, hand still on his throat.
“It won’t end like this next time.”
Hehehe
😍😍😍