Every time Guiding took place, Nabin’s body would be left damaged. To heal him afterward, permission had to be sought from them. The mansion was their exclusive domain—so much so that even the Center Director himself couldn’t freely set foot inside.
They despised outsiders entering their home. Even when Center staff came on official duty, the residents sometimes attacked them, so now most people avoided coming altogether, choosing instead to communicate only by device.
Even while unconscious, Nabin’s body twitched sporadically. Kim Su-hyun stood over him with a calm but resolute gaze, his decision already made.
Either Nabin would come to the Center at least once a week for treatment, or Su-hyun himself would be allowed inside the mansion. One of the two had to be agreed upon.
The Center Director certainly wouldn’t want Nabin gravely injured or dead, so there was no choice but to grant this request.
***
“Guide Kim Nabin, please go inside the mansion.”
“…Yes.”
Nabin stepped out of the car, carrying only a small bag. The mansion where he would now live stood alone about thirty minutes from the Center.
The car sped away the instant he got out. The staff member merely pointed at the mansion, told him to head in, and then vanished as if fleeing. His darting glances at the building made it clear he was terrified someone might appear.
Nabin, holding only his bag, craned his neck to look up at the mansion. Even the gate radiated an intimidating grandeur. Surrounded by a wall towering higher than his own height, the place exuded a frigid atmosphere, as if warning that no outsiders were welcome.
From today onward, this would be his new home.
The faces of the Espers he had met before—so frightening—flashed through his mind. His feet itched to turn and flee, but he had no choice.
“…Haa.”
He forced his stiff legs to move and stepped slowly toward the gate. The heavy black-iron bars gave no clue as to how they should be opened. Overwhelmed, he let out a sigh.
Each breath bloomed into a puff of white mist before fading away. Wearing only a thin jacket, his cheeks had long since gone numb in the cold.
Whether from fear or chill, his hand shook violently around the strap of his bag. He gripped it like a lifeline.
He should press the button that looked like a doorbell, but couldn’t summon the courage. Memories of facing them at the Center kept rising before his eyes, vivid as hallucinations.
Even the memory of wetting himself surfaced, making his face burn—not from the cold, but from shame.
But then he thought of his mother, lying in her hospital bed. Before leaving the Center today, he had visited her. The new ward was far better than her old one, and some color had finally returned to her face.
If she was to continue receiving treatment at the Center, he had to endure his fear. Gritting his teeth, he lifted his frozen fingers toward the button.
“Hey.”
“Hiik…!”
The harsh young voice exploded right by his ear, jerking his breath into an uneven gasp. His trembling gaze darted toward the sound. Just moments ago, he had been standing alone.
Now, a man with rose-colored hair stood just steps away. He hadn’t heard a single footstep. It was as though the man had dropped straight from the sky. His heart hammered wildly in his chest.
It was Han Jigang—one of the Espers he was assigned to Guide starting today. Their first meeting had left a deep scar in his memory: the rough grip dragging his injured arm, the murderous aura rolling off him.
He was also the one who had looked down on him with disgust when Nabin, too terrified, had wet himself. That contemptuous stare had pierced Nabin’s heart like needles.
He forced strength into his shaking legs. As soon as their eyes met, he stretched his lips into a smile.
It was the smile he had worn since childhood whenever fear took hold. Back then, if he cried while his stepfather beat him, the violence only worsened. He had learned that to survive, the more it hurt, the more he had to smile.
Kim Minsu had preferred tears, but most Espers at the establishment were like his stepfather—they inflicted pain, yet demanded a smile in return.
So while his eyes were frozen stiff with fear, his lips twitched into a trembling grimace. It wasn’t a smile at all, but more like the painted grin of a pitiful clown mask.
“What the hell are you grinning for? Even your smile’s ugly.”
Jigang’s brow furrowed in disgust. Nabin quickly lowered his gaze. His eyes flitted aimlessly, scattering like floating weeds, landing only on his worn-out shoes.
Jigang’s eyes might have been beautiful like roses, but the contempt and irritation within them stabbed Nabin’s heart like thorns.
“Press that button and you’ll lose your hand.”
Nabin instantly flinched back from the wall with the doorbell.
“Only me and the guys who live here have our fingerprints registered. You? You don’t need it. You’ll just be rolling around inside like a damn mutt anyway.”
Each word struck like a blade, sinking into Nabin’s chest. His fragile eyes trembled with pain, but he did what he had been trained to do.
“S-sorry…”
The reflex was beaten into him by Kim Minsu.
“If a client shows up pissed, you beg. Don’t think about what you did wrong—just beg.”
Learned through fists and bruises, apologies slipped from his mouth like second nature.
His frail body trembled so violently that even his bag rustled, a sight that might stir pity in others. But Jigang had never once felt pity, especially not for someone he despised.
He was the type who never admitted fault. And now, hearing Nabin apologize first only hardened his cruelty further.
From the very beginning—accepting the Dedicated Guide contract, daring to Guide them with that filthy body—everything about Nabin was wrong.
That cowering, groveling look suited him far too well. Jigang’s disdainful instincts flared, fueling his contempt even more.
Having no sense of courtesy to begin with, he grew harsher in response to Nabin’s submissive posture.
Brushing past the frozen figure, Jigang strode into the mansion. While Nabin hesitated, unsure if he should follow, the iron gate clanged shut again.
He stretched out a trembling hand toward the closed door but couldn’t touch it. His arm dropped limply. He didn’t even dare press the bell now—thanks to Jigang’s “warning.”
“…What do I do?”
He debated calling the Center employee who had dropped him off. But that man had fled the moment he parked, desperate to escape this place.
Even during the ride, he had warned Nabin not to call unless it was life-or-death. The contempt in his eyes reflected in the rearview mirror had been all too familiar, and Nabin could only nod.
Unlike that cold staffer, Kim Su-hyun and Esper Noh Si-woo had personally given him their numbers, telling him to call if anything happened. But to bother them over being stuck outside? It felt unthinkable.
They were busy men. How could he justify disturbing them for something so trivial?
The Center had promised him a large monthly payment for serving as Dedicated Guide to three S-rank Espers.
It was an amount incomparable to what D-rank Guides normally earned. Yet with his mother’s medical bills swallowing most of it, almost none of the money reached his own hands.
All he’d managed to buy were a few changes of clothes, underwear, toiletries, and a thin coat from the Center shop. But since the shop catered to wealthy Espers and Guides, the prices were steep—he couldn’t even dream of a warm padded jacket.
Even paying for this thin coat had made his hand shake. Now, shivering in the cold, regret clawed at him. He should’ve forced himself to buy something warmer.
Living inside the temperature-controlled Center had made him forget how harsh winter still was outside. He had thought a single coat would be enough, especially since no one had said he’d be outside for long. How foolish.
It was the end of February. Though spring was nearing, the weather was still cold enough that each breath rose white in the air.
His body was already losing sensation. His cramped feet had gone numb, trapped in the same worn shoes he’d been wearing when the Center first took him in. They were thinner than his coat, their soles nearly worn through, letting icy air seep in and freeze his toes.
Rubbing his hands together, Nabin stepped back from the gate and looked around. He would have to wait until someone let him in, but standing still was unbearable in this cold.
Yet nothing surrounded the mansion. Only after walking a long distance could he spot a few other scattered houses, similar in size to this one.
