Trash Can Guide 107

“I just really want to see Guide Kim Nabin smile—truly, happily. So… you don’t need to ask me for anything.”

It was genuine. Ryu Soh-an truly intended to stay by Nabin’s side until the day he found real happiness.

The fact that he had fallen for Nabin at first sight wasn’t what mattered. Even if he had disliked Nabin, after seeing what he had through those memories, doing everything in his power for Nabin’s happiness felt like the only human thing to do.

“I’ll come back tomorrow.”

“I won’t be going far.”

After casting one last look at Nabin’s sleeping face, Ryu Soh-an stepped out of the mansion.

Still holding Nabin in his arms, Hayan rose and gave a deep bow in place of a formal farewell.

Once the front door closed behind Ryu Soh-an, Hayan’s gaze shifted to the side—to the area where the Caretaker had been quietly observing the entire situation.

“You can come out now.”

“I-I’m sorry. Things just seemed… serious, so I stayed back and watched…”

The living room was quite a ways from the room where Nabin’s mother stayed. But the Caretaker assigned to her was a D-rank Esper. Not high enough for practical combat, but still capable of picking up on the strange mana that had filled the house.

Compared to his other assignments, this job had been easy—and more importantly, the hourly wage was high. Plus, he wasn’t alone on the shift; there was another Caretaker to rotate with.

He had just been wiping the patient down with a warm towel, massaging gently, when he’d felt it—that chilling wave of mana rolling in from the living room. He already knew the homeowner had returned.

The client, Lee Hayan, was a famously kind-hearted S-rank Esper. Other Caretakers had envied him for getting this job. The man was rich, too, so there was always the hope of some trickle-down generosity if the job was done well.

He’d been told to focus solely on the patient, so he hadn’t gone out to greet anyone. But when that ominous presence filled the air, he couldn’t ignore it. He’d headed toward the living room to check what was happening.

From the way the room was encased in mana, there was clearly an Artifact at play. But even that might not be enough—he needed to be prepared in case something went wrong.

He saw it then—snow-white hair, streaked with cherry blossom pink.

Frozen in place from a distance, he couldn’t even take a single step closer. The mana in the air was sharpened like a blade, and even the slightest movement felt like it would get his throat cut.

The man who looked like he’d completely lost control was none other than Ryu Soh-an—another S-rank Esper as famous as Lee Hayan.

Two of Korea’s busiest, most powerful Espers, standing in the same living room—and yet, there was no time to be awestruck.

The oppressive aura flooding the space was so intense, he couldn’t even retreat to his room. Rigid and tense, he ended up hearing every word exchanged between the two.

After Ryu Soh-an finally left, he cautiously approached the living room, watching Hayan’s expression closely.

Hayan had probably sensed his presence from the start. He needed to explain that he hadn’t meant to eavesdrop—it had just been impossible to ignore.

He hadn’t caught the full details of the conversation, but the atmosphere was heavy enough to know that this was serious. If he let even a single word slip, he might be fired on the spot.

“I’d appreciate it if you could keep everything you saw and heard just now to yourself. That includes anything else that happens in this house moving forward.”

“O-of course.”

Though Hayan’s tone was polite, his gaze was piercing. The Caretaker, facing that unwavering stare—so well-known as a reflection of Hayan’s upright nature—could only nod so forcefully that it looked like his head might snap off.

It sounded like a polite request, but the weight behind it made one thing very clear: refusing it would be a very bad idea.

“You may return to your duties.”

“Yes, understood…!”

As soon as Hayan dismissed him, the Caretaker bolted back to the patient’s room. He couldn’t bear the pressure of those pitch-black eyes any longer.

“Mmgh…”

“Nabin, are you waking up?”

Was it the voices that stirred him? Nabin, who had been sound asleep, groaned faintly and shifted in Hayan’s arms. Gently soothing him, Hayan quickly started up the stairs. Nabin looked uncomfortable—he needed to lay him down properly.

Once in Nabin’s room, Hayan pulled back the covers and carefully placed him on the bed. He took off his coat and socks, then tucked the blanket up to Nabin’s chin, cocooning him in warmth.

His eyes drifted again to the scars on Nabin’s wrists.

If he could, he’d erase those marks right now. But he didn’t know what Nabin wanted, and so he hesitated.

Nabin still didn’t know that Hayan had seen the scars. He’d only noticed them while Nabin was unconscious, so unless he brought it up himself, Nabin would remain unaware.

And honestly, Hayan didn’t know how to talk about them. If he brought it up the wrong way and triggered something, he wouldn’t even be able to help—he’d have to call on Ryu Soh-an.

“…What happened to you?”

Brushing Nabin’s bangs away from his forehead, Hayan whispered as gently as the wind.

If only he had a power like Ryu Soh-an’s—something that could let him peer into someone’s heart. Maybe then, he wouldn’t feel this helpless.

Even Ryu Soh-an, an S-rank Healing Esper, couldn’t guarantee Nabin’s full recovery. Just what kind of pain, what kind of experiences had Nabin endured, that not even he could fix it right away?

“I’ll be right back. Just stay here a little while.”

But Hayan pushed the thoughts aside.

There was something he could do now. He needed to meet with the informant he’d hired to investigate Nabin’s past and get the information. If the man who’d ambushed them outside the testing room was behind this—he would erase him from the world.

Worried about leaving Nabin alone, Hayan hadn’t gone out to meet the informant. Instead, he’d told him to come to the mansion. They were supposed to meet in the garden. By now, the man should’ve arrived.

Hayan quietly closed the bedroom door behind him and headed outside.

“Client. Good evening.”

The informant stood in the shade of the garden, waiting patiently.

Wearing a black cap pulled low, his face was entirely unremarkable—one of those people you might pass on the street two or three times a day without noticing. But Hayan knew that face wasn’t real.

There was a faint trace of mana on his features—proof of a transformation Artifact. The energy was subtle enough that only an S-rank Esper would notice.

“Where’s the intel?”

“Impatient as ever. Here. Have a look, and let me know if you’d like to place another request. Clients who ask for this kind of information usually do.”

“Fine.”

Hayan activated the Artifact the informant handed over.

A tiny chip, no bigger than a thumbnail, expanded into a tablet the size of an A4 sheet. The black screen quickly filled with dense white text.

Hayan calmly read it from beginning to end.

When he finished, he tapped the screen and looked up at the informant.

“I want this copy destroyed. Where’s the original?”

“The one you’re holding is the original. You know we’re trustworthy when it comes to matters like this. Of course, data destruction comes with an additional charge.”

“Cost doesn’t matter. Charge for the Artifact too. I want every trace of this data wiped from existence.”

As soon as he spoke, the tablet crumpled in his hand, shrinking down into a tiny black bead.

“I have another request.”

When Hayan explained what he wanted, the informant’s face lit up. It wasn’t a difficult job and didn’t require much effort, but since it was time-sensitive, the fee would be high. A perfect deal.

Grinning from ear to ear, the informant vanished.

Hayan headed straight back to Nabin’s room.

Not because the Center Director had ordered him to protect Nabin at all times, but because something deep inside told him—if he left Nabin alone, something terrible might happen.

“Nabin.”

Even before opening the door, he could sense that Nabin was awake.

The breathing was different—not the slow, steady rhythm of sleep, but something shallow and broken.

He pushed the door open—and there was Nabin, sitting up in bed. His face was streaked with transparent tears.

His eyes, trembling with panic, settled on Hayan—and immediately flooded with relief.

“I-I thought you went back there…”

Wherever “there” was, Hayan didn’t know. But it was clear that place terrified Nabin more than anything.

Hayan knelt in front of him and gently cupped his tear-stained cheeks.

The warmth in his hands ached all the way down to his chest.

He hadn’t been there during the time that had driven Nabin to harm himself—and that regret carved deep into him.

“No, Nabin. Nothing here can hurt you anymore. Not as long as I’m here.”

From now on, Hayan would be part of every moment of Nabin’s future. Whatever had hurt him—he’d erase it from existence. But for now, all he could do was stay by his side. Comfort him.

Hayan didn’t look away from those tearful eyes, gently sharing his warmth—reassuring Nabin that he was real, that he wasn’t going anywhere.

That no matter how far away Nabin’s gaze wandered, Hayan would always be here, within reach.

Author: Levia