It had been nearly a week since Ryu Somin last saw Han Jigang. But Jigang only gave him a fleeting glance, brushed aside the small hand clutching at his sleeve, and walked straight toward Gong Min.
Somin’s trembling eyes fell to his hand, left hanging helplessly in the air.
This was the first time since his older brother’s death. From the day his world collapsed, Jigang, Gong Min, and Tae Yishin had treated him better than family.
Even when his brother was alive, they had been good to him. But afterward, they went above and beyond, doing everything they could not to wound him. All because of his brother’s final request: that since he was dying in their stead, they should take care of the younger sibling he would leave behind.
And yet now, Jigang seemed ready to throw that promise away. Over a Guide, of all things…
Somin knew he himself couldn’t provide Guiding—his Match Rate was far too low. But that worthless, low-ranked Guide had gotten lucky with a high Match Rate and managed to bind both Jigang and Gong Min to him.
Even then, a low-grade Guide had to debase himself, selling his body cheaply just to provide Guiding. They said he’d spread his legs for countless Espers before ever stepping foot in this mansion. Filthy.
Somin tried hard to hide his revulsion, but every time the Guide looked at him, it felt like dozens of bugs crawling across his skin. And whenever he was forced into even the slightest skin contact, he would scrub himself raw in the bath for over an hour.
Every time that sullied man batted his eyes innocently, as though he knew nothing, Somin wanted to gouge them out.
From the very first moment, he had sensed it: that Guide would slowly eat away at the hearts of the Espers he had cherished.
He couldn’t just stand by. To protect what was his, he approached the Guide first. The fool, oblivious to his true intentions, opened up more and more each time Somin drew near.
Watching him bare his heart so easily made Somin’s stomach churn, bile rising to his throat. Yet he endured. Each time he wanted to crush those guileless eyes, he reminded himself that if he didn’t, he’d lose the Espers.
At last, once the Guide began to trust him, he tried to wedge himself between him and the others.
But he hadn’t expected this—just how completely Jigang had already fallen for him. Gong Min too, for that matter.
Only Tae Yishin still rejected the Guide, but that was only a matter of time. Yishin might not realize it, but Somin could see the truth—the secretive glances he cast whenever the Guide’s gaze was elsewhere.
Whether he resisted because he feared being swept away by strange emotions, or simply couldn’t admit to them, Yishin treated the Guide coldly, harshly. But even he was changing, bit by bit, in ways he didn’t notice himself.
This can’t go on… Why did my brother have to die…!
After their parents’ death, his brother had been everything to him—parent, sibling, and friend. Unlike Somin, who had grown twisted inside, his brother had remained pure and kind.
For someone to betray the last wish of such a man… not even Han Jigang could be forgiven.
Somin’s sky-blue eyes sank into shadow as he stared at Jigang’s back. His fist clenched so tightly that crescent marks dug into his palm.
Earlier, Jigang’s eyes had flickered with apology when they brushed past each other. But now he spoke to Gong Min as if Somin didn’t exist.
His delicate face twisted in sadness, as though wounded by Jigang’s indifference, but the darkness lurking deep in his gaze wasn’t that of mere sorrow.
“Gong Min, Kim Nabin’s in my room. Go check on him.”
“…And you?”
The question carried weight—why was Nabin, whom Jigang had so desperately protected and taken to the villa for recovery, suddenly in his room? Why entrust him to Gong Min now?
“There’s someone I need to find. Nabin’s in bad shape. If Tae Yishin comes back, make sure he’s never left alone with him.”
“Alright.”
Watching Jigang leave without another word, Somin finally let the tears slip from his eyes. At the same time, the last faint shard of conscience in his heart dissolved completely.
***
“Gong Min. Move.”
“……”
The moment Tae Yishin stepped back into the mansion after being released from prison, he searched for Nabin. A stabbing pain, like an awl pressing into his temple, never left him.
The Center Director hadn’t given him a moment’s peace while he was locked up. Seeing an opportunity, he dumped all the missions he’d postponed right into Yishin’s lap. The problem was, every one of them was poisoned bait.
Because of that, Yishin had been forced to pry into people’s minds every day behind bars.
Just like with high-ranking monsters, the stronger the target, the more mana it took to infiltrate their thoughts. People were no different. Though the Director sometimes demanded he use his ability on ordinary humans or Guides, most of the targets were Espers.
B-rank Espers weren’t too difficult, but from A-rank upward, it became grueling. The Director either wanted commands planted in their minds or sensitive information extracted.
Every day, without fail, an A-rank Esper was brought before him. Yishin had known the Director’s public face was a mask, but he hadn’t realized how deep his schemes ran.
Every person Yishin tampered with was someone who stood against the Director. Most didn’t know his true nature; the few who did were too afraid of his power to resist.
He, Jigang, and Gong Min had always maintained a careful balance with the Director: as long as they did their jobs, he didn’t demand more.
But never before had he ordered Yishin to do something so blatantly illegal. With Yishin’s temperament, if pushed too far, he could just as easily hand proof of the Director’s dirty commands to his enemies.
This time was different. Yishin couldn’t refuse—because of Nabin. The Director had given him two options.
“Esper Han Jigang keeps making demands of me.”
“What kind of demands?”
“That I stop Guide Kim Nabin from guiding you.”
Yishin knew what he had done to Nabin. He had expected Jigang, furious as he was, to take action somehow. But the betrayal still hit like a slap.
Jigang knew full well that if Yishin didn’t receive Nabin’s Guiding, his Outbreak Risk Index would skyrocket beyond what machines could handle. And still, he’d gone behind his back to beg the Director for it. For a moment, Yishin’s vision went white.
“So I’m considering my options. Since your Outbreak Risk Index has stabilized, perhaps it’s time you went back to the Guiding machines.”
At those smug words, Yishin nearly lost control, wanting to tear the Director’s mind apart. He clenched his teeth, forcing down the impulse. No matter how reckless he could be, hurting the Director was a risk he couldn’t afford.
He and Jigang had always been bound by a knot no one else could sever, even when they fought. But with Nabin between them, that bond now hung by a thread.
The cunning Director had sensed the rift immediately. His gleaming eyes were like a snake waiting to strike.
“…What are my choices?”
What he wanted was to say, Fine. I’ll use the machines, and storm out. But he had grown too used to Nabin’s Guiding. The thought of returning to the cold, lifeless machines instead of that warm touch dragged him down like lead.
“There are those who defy me. Their minds need to be… adjusted.”
When he heard that, Yishin couldn’t hold back a bitter laugh. He fixed the Director with a hard stare. Any man with a conscience would have flinched, but the Director’s faint smile never wavered.
The very reason Yishin had been imprisoned—recklessly using his power on Nabin, a Guide, instead of a monster—was now being treated as something the Director could demand at will.
If only he had used his ability properly, the injustice might have been easier to bear. But for planting a single command, he had been dragged away like a criminal.
And now this man was urging him to do the same to people. Faces of those who had defied the Director flashed one by one through Yishin’s mind.
