As soon as they stepped out of the Gate, personnel from the Control Center surrounded Seo-ha in a semicircle. More precisely, they surrounded both Seo-ha and Han Ju-oh—it was the kind of standoff you’d typically only see when facing down a monster.
“What is this?”
Seo-ha glanced back into the Gate, wondering if they might have unknowingly brought out some sort of virus. It seemed that the others were on edge as well. Just then, two inspectors clad head to toe in hazmat suits approached.
“We’ll begin the scan.”
Seo-ha stepped away from Han Ju-oh and obediently raised his arms. One of the inspectors swept a scanner over Seo-ha’s body. Seo-ha watched their movements silently, then sneaked a glance at Han Ju-oh—and his eyes widened.
“What are you—what the hell are you doing!”
The inspection hadn’t even finished yet, but Seo-ha jerked forward in panic, trying to get to Han Ju-oh. He had only taken one step away from him moments ago, but now people had moved in between them like a wall.
Seo-ha tried to push through to Han Ju-oh, but both of his arms were seized.
“You can’t go any closer.”
“What is it? Is there some virus on Ju-oh?”
He demanded an answer, asking whether they were being surrounded because something had latched onto Han Ju-oh. But no one answered him. Seo-ha strained against the grip, holding his arms, panting heavily as he looked around.
‘What the hell…’
The inspectors who were supposed to be examining Han Ju-oh were standing far back. Instead, the ones surrounding them were Espers from the Control Center.
People who literally existed for the purpose of control.
This wasn’t just about a virus. Something bigger was going on. The black-masked personnel were clearly treating Han Ju-oh as a threat.
“Why the hell are you acting like he’s a danger when he’s the one who just fought monsters in there?”
Seo-ha shouted at them, anxiety surging in his chest. After everything, after risking their lives, they should at least be helping with post-cleanup—not treating him like this.
“Esper Han Ju-oh.”
At that moment, a man with a star on his shoulder insignia stepped forward and stood before Han Ju-oh.
“You are hereby designated a high-risk individual. If you cooperate and come with us quietly, nothing needs to happen here.”
An aide stepped out from behind the man and held out a pair of cuffs.
These weren’t ordinary handcuffs. They were specially made to suppress Esper abilities, designed for containment—not restraint.
Han Ju-oh looked down at the cuffs, showing no signs of surprise or indignation. His expression was calm, as if this was something he had always expected. Or maybe he had been through this before.
“Han Ju-oh!”
Seo-ha called out. He hadn’t even finished the guiding process yet. He had only just barely managed to stabilize Han Ju-oh’s rampage, planning to continue with proper healing afterward. Now, he regretted it. He should’ve given it his all in every single moment. Instead of relaxing just because the Gate had opened, he should’ve prioritized guiding…
Han Ju-oh turned his head to look at Seo-ha.
“I’m fine.”
That simple reply made Seo-ha’s chest tighten painfully. Han Ju-oh already knew Seo-ha was blaming himself. Despite the toll on his body from not being fully guided, he never once complained.
“Wait for me.”
With no resistance, Han Ju-oh allowed the cuffs to be placed on his wrists and began walking away. As his figure vanished behind the people surrounding him, Seo-ha thrashed his arms violently. The agents finally stepped away, deciding there was no longer a need to restrain him.
Once they cleared out, Seo-ha stood still and drew in a deep, swelling breath that lifted his chest.
‘Get it together.’
Right now, Seo-ha was doing everything he could to stay rational. The shock of seeing Han Ju-oh dragged off the moment they exited the Gate had filled him with a dizzying mix of rage and panic—but the more emotional he got, the worse it would be for him.
‘I need to figure out what the hell just happened.’
He had to cool his head and trace back what had led to this moment. One name came to mind—someone who would understand the situation better than anyone else.
Seo-ha pulled out his phone and called Guild Leader Kim Mi-yeon.
—Yes.
“What the hell is going on?”
—Come to the Guild first.
Even faced with his abrupt question, Guild Leader Kim Mi-yeon remained composed. Seo-ha lowered the phone and turned his body in the direction Han Ju-oh had been taken.
***
By the time he arrived at the office, the news had already spread. The stares boring into him made his face burn. People clearly wanted to ask him things, but not a single one dared step closer. Not that he was in any mood to answer.
Seo-ha was so tightly wound that if anyone tried to block his path to Guild Leader Kim Mi-yeon’s office, he might just shout them down.
He rapped once on the door and immediately grabbed the handle. Inside, Kim Mi-yeon was already waiting and turned her head as their eyes met.
“Sit.”
He walked over to the spot she indicated. There was an empty cup on the table. Seo-ha barely glanced at it and looked away.
“Tea… Right. Let’s get to the point. I’ll explain what’s happening.”
Seeing Seo-ha’s condition, Guild Leader Kim Mi-yeon had been about to offer him tea but instead immediately held out a tablet. Seo-ha, however, kept his gaze fixed on Kim Mi-yeon’s face instead of the tablet.
“Look at this first. It’ll help you understand everything better.”
When she pressed again, laying out the order in which things should be addressed, Seo-ha exhaled reluctantly and took the tablet. On the screen was a single photo. Several people were in the shot. Among them was a younger Han Ju-oh, and though not entirely clear, there was also a man who bore a strong resemblance to Davis.
“This was the day Ju-oh had his first rampage.”
It wouldn’t have been odd for an Esper like Han Ju-oh to be near a Gate, but once the word “rampage” entered the conversation—and especially if his secret was involved—the meaning behind every word changed drastically.
“Back then, his guiding stopped working, and there was an Esper who tried to kill him before he could explode.”
Kim Mi-yeon began explaining what had happened in detail.
“When the opinion was starting to lean toward eliminating Ju-oh, the team leader lifted him into his arms. He felt responsible—because Ju-oh had gone into rampage mode because of him. He desperately tried to do something, anything at all. Luckily, Ju-oh passed out from the shock, and when they shoved him into the guiding machine, it worked.”
Her finger pointed to a middle-aged man in the photo.
“It was a miracle. He narrowly escaped that rampage, and everything about Ju-oh became classified after that.”
Before Kim Mi-yeon became his handler, the man who had been the team leader had taken full responsibility for managing him.
“We made up a convincing explanation for why the guiding didn’t work on Ju-oh.”
They told people it was because Han Ju-oh refused to receive guiding. That’s what was reported to the higher-ups, too.
“I thought it had all been wrapped up cleanly. But then this guy—”
Even without her pointing, Seo-ha’s eyes were naturally drawn to one particular person.
Esper Davis.
The man who had come to him and warned that their contract would soon be broken.
“He came out of the Gate and revealed Ju-oh’s secret.”
“And they just dragged him off without even verifying it first?”
Seo-ha shot back, his tone dripping with cynicism.
“Verification can be done after detainment. You said he used his powers excessively, right? That’s why the Control Center moved so quickly.”
“This is insane.”
Seo-ha shook his head.
“They waited for someone who deserved nothing less than praise and dragged him off. His hands were bleeding, and they didn’t even treat him—they cuffed him like a criminal.”
He hung his head, swallowing back the bitter taste in his throat.
“It’s not like he’s about to go into a rampage again. I guided him.”
The guilt of not fully guiding Han Ju-oh earlier constricted his throat.
“The National Security Department got involved, too.”
The NSD—short for the National Security Department. That explained why Kim Mi-yeon hadn’t been able to do anything while Han Ju-oh was being taken away.
Seo-ha recalled the obstinate face of the man with the shoulder insignia.
“So that’s why you couldn’t protect Ju-oh?”
The words came out through clenched teeth, unable to suppress the anger any longer. He knew Kim Mi-yeon had known in advance, and he couldn’t help but direct some of that resentment toward her.
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t bring Ju-oh back. This is driving me crazy. He has a goddamn partner—how could they just take him away like that…”
His voice broke off, choked by injustice. All Espers lived with the potential danger of a rampage. That’s the entire reason Guides exist, the whole point of making contracts. And yet Han Ju-oh was being singled out like this. It made no sense.
“Why didn’t they take me?”
The question came out suddenly, hitting Seo-ha as he wondered if he was even supposed to be here right now. If Han Ju-oh was truly that dangerous, shouldn’t they have taken him—the Guide—for examination too?
“They’ll have another Guide try to guide him. That’s how they’ll try to verify if it’s true.”
Kim Mi-yeon pressed a hand to her throbbing forehead.
“This is exactly why we kept it a secret.”
But an unexpected person had exposed that secret.
Seo-ha groaned, clutching his head as the confusion and frustration mounted. He didn’t know whether to believe any of what he was hearing.
“This is just… it’s absolutely absurd.”
No matter how much he protested, there was nothing Kim Mi-yeon could do.
An Esper’s rampage was a delicate, volatile issue—especially when it came to an S-Class like Han Ju-oh. Without Seo-ha, there was essentially no one who could stabilize him. That’s likely why he’d been labeled a high-risk individual. And now that the National Security Department had stepped in, Kim Mi-yeon couldn’t think of a single way to overturn the situation.
