Every time Nabin looked into Han Jigang’s eyes, he was reminded of the days when terror gripped him so tightly he could hardly breathe. Those memories weren’t some faded relic of the past—they were still painfully vivid.
One of the few reasons he hadn’t completely collapsed as the years dragged on was because of Han Jigang. Now, when he looked into those rose-colored eyes, he didn’t feel only fear like before.
Even if Guiding was the only reason, Nabin could still sense that Jigang was genuinely trying to treat him well. At moments like this… he sometimes almost believed the illusion that Jigang actually cared about him.
But the scars from the past were too deep, and it would take time to open his heart again. The pain and suffering Jigang had once inflicted weren’t things that could be forgotten easily.
Still, the fact that Nabin could now reach out first to take Jigang’s hand, or muster the courage to make a request, was something he never could have imagined back then.
“…Alright. Let’s go.”
Jigang moved his hand, wrapping it warmly around the smaller one clinging to his pinky finger. For the first time in his life, he felt a profound sense of fulfillment swell in his chest.
Because in that warmth, he could feel it—Nabin had opened his heart to him, if only just a little.
“Aren’t you cold?”
“…No.”
Nabin nodded slightly, his eyes fixed on the scenery flashing by outside the car window. Maybe it was the excitement of knowing he would soon see his mother, but even the usual hallucinations had gone quiet.
The blanket Jigang had draped over him radiated comforting warmth. It felt identical to the one Jigang had once given him as a gift—only the color was different, but the familiar heat wrapped around him all the same.
“We’re here. Just wait a moment.”
Jigang parked in front of the Center and quickly stepped out, opening the door to Nabin’s seat. Nabin hesitated for a moment, unfamiliar with such treatment, but eventually took the hand offered to him and got out of the car.
Since Jigang had called ahead, a staff member was already waiting outside to greet them. Spotting the car, they hurried forward.
“Esper Han Jigang, it’s been a while.”
“Yeah.”
The employee, who had greeted him with a bright smile, struggled not to let their face falter at his curt response.
Jigang didn’t speak politely even to the Center Director, and since the Director himself tolerated it, showing irritation toward him would only end badly. The staff knew all too well they might end up writing a report if they slipped.
Their gaze shifted to Nabin. Although he was technically their charge, the number of times they’d actually met him could be counted on one hand.
“Guide Kim Nabin, welcome. You remembered today was your Guiding Mana Measurement, right?”
“…Yes.”
Normally, the staff treated Nabin with strict formality, but today they addressed him with uncharacteristic friendliness. From the way they kept glancing at Jigang, it was obvious why.
They even went so far as to take Nabin’s arm, as if to personally escort him. Nabin faltered under the sudden touch, being tugged forward—until there was a sharp thwack. The staff’s hand was knocked aside, sent reeling through the air.
“Don’t touch him.”
“A-ah, I’m sorry!”
The staff clutched their reddening hand and stepped back quickly. Jigang’s frown, sharp with displeasure, finally relaxed as if satisfied with the correction.
He brushed off the spot where the staff had touched Nabin, as though wiping away something filthy. The employee’s pride smarted—they felt treated like some diseased outcast—but, just as when Jigang had spoken down to them, they couldn’t let any sign of it show.
“This way, please…”
Carefully gauging Jigang’s mood, the staff led them to the room marked Guiding Mana Measurement Division.
“Esper Han Jigang, will you be coming in as well…?”
At the destination, the staff fiddled nervously with the doorknob and asked cautiously.
“I’ve got something else to do. Finish the test, then go see your mother.”
“…Okay.”
Ignoring the staff, Jigang spoke only to Nabin, then strode quickly down the hall. The employee waited until he disappeared around the corner before exhaling sharply and, with a bitter look, raising a discreet middle finger in that direction.
Nabin stood quietly at the door as though he hadn’t seen anything. Whatever pity the staff might have felt for him, they were far from friendly, and now that Jigang was gone, there was always the chance they’d vent their frustration on him.
“Guide Kim Nabin, go on in.”
Fortunately, the staff seemed intent on finishing their work quickly rather than taking it out on him. Their expression was far stiffer now as they opened the door to the Guiding Mana Measurement Division and gestured for him to enter.
The spotless white room was chilled with an air so cold it made Nabin’s shoulders hunch.
“I have other matters, so once you’re finished, head to the ward yourself. You know the way, right?”
“…Yes.”
The room where his mother was hospitalized was the only place in the vast Center he could find without hesitation. At his soft reply, the staff sighed with relief, as if laying down a burden, and left him alone.
“Guide Kim Nabin, welcome.”
“…Hello.”
A man in a white coat approached Nabin, who was standing awkwardly by the door. On the left side of his chest was a nameplate that read:
Guiding Mana Specialist, Lee Jun.
It had been a long time since Nabin last saw him. The testing room where he’d first been evaluated as a D-rank Guide at age twenty had been nothing like this. That earlier place had been on the outskirts of the Center, open even to civilians with just a visitor’s pass.
This Guiding Mana Measurement Division was different. It was where officially registered Guides came regularly to have their mana measured, and where specialists provided treatment if anything abnormal appeared.
Nabin had visited this room several times back when he first came to the Center, leaving behind the illegal guiding establishments in hopes of becoming an exclusive Guide for S-rank Espers.
Although the system already showed he had a high match rate with S-ranks, proven by the recorded mana waves, the Center Director was a man who demanded certainty.
So Nabin had been tested here again and again until the results came out consistent.
As far as he remembered, Lee Jun was a strictly professional man. Unlike Kim Su-hyun or Noh Si-woo, he showed him neither special kindness nor unnecessary pity. He simply did his work.
Nabin didn’t find that uncomfortable. What felt strange was simply being outside and interacting with people at all, after being shut away in the mansion for so long.
By all rights, the S-rank Espers should have been more unsettling. Yet, apart from the fear they inspired, living pressed against them every day had made them strangely familiar. And every time he realized that, a heavy weight pressed down on his chest.
“It’s been a while since your last Guiding Mana test, hasn’t it?”
“…Yes.”
Forcing his tense shoulders to relax, Nabin glanced around the room. It was filled with several machines for measuring Guiding Mana—and Lee Jun was the only person there.
He seemed to recall there being nurses present the last time, but today Lee Jun was handling everything alone. Nabin appeared to be the only Guide scheduled.
“Ah, the others went for lunch. Things were hectic before you arrived, and they missed their break.”
Sensing Nabin’s hesitation, Lee Jun explained unprompted, then helped him settle into one of the machines.
The device resembled a reclining chair, designed to support the whole body comfortably, but the seat was set high enough that anyone not unusually tall found it awkward to climb into on their own.
Once the Guide was seated, a transparent dome would lower over them, and the measurement would begin.
The chair itself was bare metal, without even a thin sheet laid over it. The moment Nabin sat down, the cold seeped into him.
He exhaled slowly, trying to ease the tension in his body, resting his arms on the armrests and his feet on the footplate. As soon as he was settled, the chair began to recline, and the dome slid smoothly down to enclose him.
“Guide Kim Nabin, we’ll start the test now. Just breathe comfortably.”
The process was sensationless. The only change was that the clear dome surrounding him began to shimmer with rainbow colors, like a soap bubble catching sunlight.
Watching the iridescent lights shift and glimmer, time seemed to slip away, and before he knew it, the test would be finished.
A faint hum vibrated through the machine, so soft it could barely be heard unless one listened closely. It filled the silent room with a subtle pulse.
For a while, the only sounds were the quiet whir of the equipment and the scratch of Lee Jun’s pen on his tablet as he noted down the Guiding Mana readings displayed on the monitor.
