Baek Seo-ha, once outside, stared at the man who stood in his way.
“Do you remember when I said the contract would be broken?”
As the Esper Davis grinned smugly, Seo-ha silently studied his face. Right—this bastard.
“It’ll be hard for him to get out for a while. Since he kept things hidden all this time, they’ll take this chance to strip everything bare.”
“And the one who made it happen is you.”
Seo-ha shot back coldly.
“That’s right.”
Davis admitted it with a carefree smile, as if the whole situation with Han Ju-oh getting dragged away was just some amusing game. He must have known Seo-ha would be furious, and yet he clearly didn’t give a damn.
Without warning, Seo-ha grabbed Davis’s hand. Davis looked startled for a moment, then smirked knowingly and gripped it in return.
“Come to the U.S. with me.”
Seo-ha ignored his words entirely and began guiding.
“Mmm. This feels nice.”
As expected of an A-rank Guide—Seo-ha’s energy was incredibly pure. Davis didn’t reject the sudden, silent guiding. On the contrary, he welcomed it as a chance to sample the energy of the Guide he’d be teaming up with in the future.
But Davis’s smile didn’t last long.
“Why’d you stop halfway?”
“Looks like that’s the extent of our compatibility.”
Compatibility, huh? Seo-ha muttered under his breath, not even sure if Davis understood the nuance of the word, and glanced down at the numbers on his watch.
“We got a nine percent.”
As Davis checked his own watch, Seo-ha let go of his hand.
“You still want to be my partner after this?”
“That’s… something to think about.”
Davis rubbed his chin, feigning deep thought, and Seo-ha’s gaze turned icy.
“Isn’t it basic protocol to check the matching rate first?”
Trying to bring someone on as a partner without even knowing the compatibility rate—was he serious? Maybe Davis’s actions that put Han Ju-oh in danger had all started from his interest in Seo-ha. Not that Seo-ha felt any guilt over it. Still, had he just known a bit sooner, he might’ve found a way to strike this man down and protect Han Ju-oh.
“I thought everything would line up since you’re my type.”
Davis readily admitted his misjudgment with a smile so disarmingly innocent it only made Seo-ha’s blood boil hotter.
“But what now? I don’t want to be stuck with a Guide who’s got a crap match rate…”
Davis sized Seo-ha up, fingers still toying with his chin.
“But it’d be such a waste to hand you over to someone else.”
He didn’t bother to censor his selfishness, saying whatever the hell he wanted right to Seo-ha’s face. To him, Seo-ha wasn’t someone who needed to be treated with respect. If Seo-ha turned him down by citing the low matching rate, that was fine. And Han Ju-oh was already captured—nothing was standing in his way.
“What a shame, Guide Baek Seo-ha.”
Davis offered his farewell without the slightest trace of regret, turning on his heel and walking away. Seo-ha bit down hard on his lower lip as he watched him go.
The urge to grab that bastard by the hair and slam his head into the ground was overwhelming…
‘But I’ll hold it in.’
Finding Han Ju-oh came first. Letting emotions dictate his next move wouldn’t help at all right now.
‘I’m not letting you off that easy.’
Seo-ha’s glare stayed razor-sharp until Davis disappeared around the corner.
***
The person Seo-ha went to find next was the man who’d taken the lead in arresting Han Ju-oh: Yoon Ji-guk, Team Leader of the Esper Management Division under the National Security Department. The Esper Management Division was precisely what it sounded like—a special team composed solely of former special forces soldiers tasked with managing Espers.
Seo-ha had made up his mind and rushed straight here. Though he hadn’t been able to get into the office itself, at least the waiting room was accessible. It was right by the hallway the man would have to pass, so ignoring him would be impossible.
Yoon Ji-guk stopped in his tracks just before reaching his office, looking down at Seo-ha seated on the sofa.
“What do you want?”
“I’m here to see Esper Han Ju-oh.”
Seo-ha didn’t beat around the bush. If Han Ju-oh hadn’t been taken, there’d be no reason for him to be here in the first place.
“You’ve wasted your time. You won’t be able to see him.”
It was clear Yoon knew exactly who Seo-ha was. He skipped straight to the point, making it obvious he didn’t want to waste a single extra second on this encounter.
“Why not? Espers need to be guided. Especially after clearing a dungeon—guiding is absolutely essential.”
“Ah, if it’s guiding you’re worried about, we’ve got Guides here too.”
With a casual flick of his thumb over his shoulder, Yoon Ji-guk gestured toward the hallway—plenty of other replacements, in other words. It was his way of saying Seo-ha had been left behind because they wanted to test whether Han Ju-oh responded to anyone else’s guiding. A fact Yoon Ji-guk tossed out with maddening nonchalance.
“I’m Han Ju-oh’s partner. I’ve never authorized anyone else to use my exclusive rights. My Esper gets guided by me.”
Seo-ha rose to his feet, facing Yoon Ji-guk head-on. Although they were at at eye level, the gap between an ordinary Guide and a Team Leader of the National Security Department, like Yoon Ji-guk, was vast. Still, Seo-ha refused to back down, holding his gaze without flinching.
“If you were so concerned, you should’ve guided him right away.”
Yoon Ji-guk brushed at his body like he was flicking off a bothersome insect.
“I was going to guide him as soon as he came out of the gate. But you didn’t wait—you’re the one who took him away.”
“Do you think if you blame me like that, I’ll say sorry and let you go see him? Idiot.”
“Say whatever you want. I’m seeing Ju-oh.”
“You seem to care an awful lot. Doesn’t look good.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“If you really cared about Esper Han Ju-oh, you should’ve revealed his secret instead of guiding him.”
“What the hell… Han Ju-oh went into the gate for the people. Arresting someone like that just because of a tip, without verifying anything—that’s what’s truly contradictory here.”
“Contradiction, huh…”
Yoon Ji-guk let his words trail off. He glanced around at the others nearby, and they quickly exited the room. Once they were alone, he walked over to the seat the secretary had just vacated.
“Espers are critical national assets. The higher the grade, the greater the value.”
Seo-ha frowned at how casually Yoon Ji-guk tossed out the word “asset.” He hated hearing Espers talked about like that. They were people, too. The only difference was that they had the ability to enter gates and face monsters. That didn’t make them tools.
“If used well, they’re high-performance weapons. But used wrong, they can cause serious collateral damage. My job is to manage that—eliminate the threats before they happen.”
Yoon Ji-guk picked up a file folder from the secretary’s desk. Seo-ha couldn’t see what was inside, but from the glimpse of Han Ju-oh’s photo, he could guess.
“That’s why we took him in—for confirmation. Go ahead, tell me which part of what I’ve said contradicts itself.”
Yoon Ji-guk tossed the file at Seo-ha’s feet.
“Han Ju-oh is a potential killer.”
Seo-ha bent down to pick up the file. He smoothed out the crumpled photo and skimmed through the documents on Han Ju-oh. It was a detailed report on the status of his guiding sessions since his capture.
Seo-ha read through it several times, then let out a sigh like he was choking on it.
‘This guy is seriously insane.’
“Espers are definitely dangerous. As you said—they’re high-performance weapons.”
Seo-ha carefully placed the file back on the table.
“That’s exactly why Guides exist.”
Yoon Ji-guk’s brow furrowed.
“Especially Han Ju-oh—he has a Pair Guide bound by a Special Contract. Are you saying this massive agency decided to just ignore that and assign someone else to guide him?”
Yoon Ji-guk stared at Seo-ha with evident distaste, twisting his lips into a sneer.
“We’re testing whether an S-Class Esper who can’t be guided by just anyone can actually receive guidance when he’s on the brink of going berserk.”
“Fine. Go ahead and do that.”
Seo-ha turned and walked away without hesitation.
He could’ve ripped apart Yoon Ji-guk’s ridiculous excuse any number of ways, but he didn’t bother.
‘Han Ju-oh, you absolute…’
The bastard never failed to defy expectations.
“But take responsibility.”
Before leaving, Seo-ha turned and spoke clearly to Yoon Ji-guk.
“Do whatever you want—push him to the edge, let him go berserk—but you’d better make sure you keep him safe.”
Yoon Ji-guk scoffed. He didn’t take the words as a threat.
“And if I don’t?”
“It’s simple. I’ll spend the rest of my life longing for Han Ju-oh… and you’ll never escape the blame.”
As Seo-ha walked out, the people who’d been waiting re-entered the room. Though he felt their eyes on him, he didn’t so much as blink, striding forward without pause.
“Han Ju-oh, you…”
Only once he was alone did Seo-ha finally speak.
“You’re so getting scolded when I see you. Throwing your body around like you don’t even care?”
Though he’d temporarily stabilized his condition inside the gate, Han Ju-oh had refused any guiding from others, even though he clearly could’ve accepted it.
That reckless decision might lead to a real outbreak—proving that no one else could guide him—and when that happened, the damage could be catastrophic…
Seo-ha clenched his jaw. If he ever saw Han Ju-oh again, he would definitely land a punch first thing.
