* * *
Seo Jaewon sat on the sofa, arms crossed and legs bouncing anxiously.
He’d been discharged from the hospital, only to be immediately summoned by his department head.
Now he was stuck waiting for an interview.
But that wasn’t what was bothering him most.
“If Jaewon’s my Guide, I’d die happy.”
Die happy, he said. This damn guy.
Joo Youngha never says anything he doesn’t mean.
He just isn’t wired that way socially.
“…He’s serious.”
A cold sweat ran down Jaewon’s spine.
His insides churned.
Why the hell is he acting like this?
“No, come on, even if that’s true, this much?”
Sure, Espers generally like their Guides.
Not in some romantic way—more like a lifeline. It’s inevitable.
A personal Guide is like a dream.
Like hitting the lottery.
Even just getting assigned a team Guide makes most Espers ridiculously happy.
If they actually get along emotionally too, that’s a jackpot.
If an Esper found a magic lamp, at least one of their wishes would involve getting a Guide.
That’s just how it is.
“But Joo Youngha?”
He could get Guiding any time without even waiting in line.
And more than that, he hates Guiding.
Thinks it’s a joke.
So why the sudden change in attitude?
Jaewon glanced sideways at Youngha’s profile, unease twisting in his chest.
Catching the look, Youngha smiled like sunshine.
His usually unreadable eyes softened in an instant.
A few loose strands of hair fell across his forehead, neatly shaped brows framing his ridiculously pretty face.
He looked more like someone who should be on TV than stuck in a government building like this.
Even wearing a stretched-out standard-issue T-shirt, he still somehow glowed.
“What is it, Jaewon?”
Youngha tilted his head slightly like a curious puppy.
Those clear eyes looked unbearably innocent.
He had no idea how serious his words were.
No clue about the effect they were having.
“What the hell is going on in that tiny little head of his?”
Just seeing that cute face now made Jaewon’s stomach twist.
He’d never been able to predict him.
It was like he wanted to crack open his skull just to figure out what the hell he was thinking.
“…It’s nothing.”
Yeah, maybe for Youngha, it really was nothing.
Just another offhand comment.
But for Jaewon—
He’d seen Joo Youngha die.
The sickening sensation of an ice spike piercing through combat armor, the way Youngha’s pupils unfocused and turned dull, the warmth draining from his body in Jaewon’s arms—he remembered it all, vividly.
No matter how much time passed, he couldn’t erase that memory.
Other people might not have forgotten the incident, but for Jaewon, it was something he relived constantly.
New poison poured over that scar every day.
Jaewon scrubbed his face dry with both hands, a low groan escaping his throat.
“What the hell are you trying to pull, you bastard?”
Right now, he was in no condition to function as a Guide.
EX-rank or not, with a 37% match rate?
He wouldn’t have trusted himself back when he was an Esper.
If the Guiding failed?
If Youngha lost control, got hurt—or worse, died again?
It felt like being shoved to the edge of a cliff.
He could almost smell the blood that shouldn’t be there.
He’d lose him again.
He’d be alone again.
“…I can’t survive that twice.”
He really couldn’t.
And putting emotions aside, he already knew how this life would play out.
It would be exactly like the last one.
Visions of the aftermath of Youngha’s yet again death flashed through Jaewon’s mind like a montage.
[EX-Rank Esper receives poor support… Gets stuck with a “37% match rate” Guide]
[(Precedent excerpt) How much responsibility does a Guide bear for an Esper’s death?]
[Let’s be honest, if the Guide wasn’t a total mess, would Joo Youngha have died?]
[What was Seo Jaewon even thinking…?]
Jaewon could practically call himself an expert in this field.
He’d seen about a hundred million variations of these flaming posts.
In his previous life, of course.
He held his breath, trying to keep a grip on himself.
“Just imagining it makes me want to die all over again…”
If there was one thing dying had taught him, it was how utterly exhausted he’d been.
He wasn’t an Esper anymore, didn’t have pride or honor worth clinging to like back then…
He had no desire to repeat that kind of life.
When he’d finally died, it had felt like relief.
Now that he knew that peace, he couldn’t bear to go through it again.
Then something bumped against his shoulder.
‘…?’
Youngha had leaned against him.
His thigh pressed warm against Jaewon’s.
He tried to pull away, but he was already at the very edge of the sofa.
The larger man’s weight pressed in, collapsing his shoulder.
“…Sit somewhere else.”
“Mmkay.”
The bastard answered sweetly and didn’t move a muscle.
And then, he reached out and interlocked their fingers.
“Guide me.”
“No, you idiot.”
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to—it just wasn’t possible.
Even if they’d briefly hit 100%, the average was still 37%.
That meant most of the time, the sync rate was basically single digits.
Holding hands or not, nothing would happen.
But Youngha didn’t care.
He slouched in even more, letting his head drop onto Jaewon’s shoulder, soft hair brushing against his cheek.
Jaewon couldn’t fold his shoulder in half, so he shifted and let his arm drape around Youngha’s back instead.
They’d ended up like this before too, squeezed together in the cramped backseat after missions.
With the weight of that familiar head against him, his mind began to settle.
Slowly, his thoughts cleared.
And with clarity came a single, undeniable fact.
If Joo Youngha died again, none of this mattered.
Jaewon hadn’t forgiven him.
Sure, he hadn’t killed anyone this time around—but Jaewon remembered everything.
Youngha wasn’t trustworthy.
He was unpredictable.
There was no guarantee he wouldn’t do something reckless again.
But still, this bastard had to live.
Not that anyone deserves to die, but especially not like that.
Jaewon couldn’t watch it happen again.
Not this guy killing someone else—and definitely not dying himself.
His fist clenched on its own.
“…If you die again, I’ll kill you myself, Joo Youngha.”
Just then, the door opened and someone peeked in.
“They’re ready for you.”
“Ah, okay.”
Right. He was here for a meeting.
He’d been so caught up with Youngha, he’d forgotten.
The staffer glanced between them and frowned slightly.
Jaewon, startled, quickly pulled his arm back from Youngha’s shoulder.
“Coming.”
And with that, Jaewon trudged into the office without having come up with a single thing to say.
“See you soon,”
Youngha called from behind, voice as relaxed as ever.
No matter how capable an Esper is, no one enters a dungeon alone.
Even the easiest dungeon requires a raid team — it’s the most basic unit of dungeon strategy.
The group that forms those teams belongs to the Dungeon Management Bureau’s “Strategy Division,” and the one who’d called Seo Jaewon in was the head of the Strategy Division for Seoul’s 3rd Branch.
Considering the Espers’ abilities and assigned regions, the head forms fixed teams or temporarily adds and removes members depending on the mission.
In short, it’s a position of considerable responsibility.
“So even this guy had a youth once.
The sight — his face, the cramped office, even the tiny chair in front of the desk — was like a perfect snapshot from the past, and it gave Jaewon a strange feeling.
Most Espers are tall, so sitting in that chair always made him feel a bit cramped.
That had always made meetings here slightly awkward.
But today’s atmosphere was quite different from before.
“So, how are you doing? You look better than I expected. I was worried.”
The division head fidgeted, clearly trying to gauge Jaewon’s mood.
This wasn’t the kind of organization that normally cared about people’s feelings, but given the situation, caution was understandable.
After all, an Esper suddenly losing their power was a serious issue.
But Jaewon had already been through far too much.
A friend killing a teammate. Killing that friend himself.
Becoming public enemy number one.
Time travel…
After all that, most things barely made an impression anymore.
Noticing Jaewon’s unexpected composure, the head quickly got to the point.
“Anyway, I heard about the request for a personal guide. Joo Youngha asked for you?”
“Ah, yes…”
Assigning a personal guide to just any Esper was unheard of.
The ratio of Espers to guides made one-on-one matching extremely rare.
Most Espers get guided by whoever’s on duty at the center after their missions.
Only the elite high-rank teams, those handling extremely difficult missions, might get a dedicated guide.
So being assigned a personal guide meant special treatment.
It was sometimes used as bait to keep powerful Espers from defecting to other countries.
Joo Youngha was absurdly powerful — arguably the strongest Esper in the world — but…
“That kid… he’s a real piece of work.”
The division head clicked his tongue.
“Of course the higher-ups will do whatever he asks. But that’s not how it should work.”
‘I knew this was coming.’
Exactly the reaction Jaewon had expected.
But he wasn’t fazed.
Because Seo Jaewon had a plan.
Something everyone wanted but never dared to say.
Something someone should have done long ago.
It was time to make a decision.
* * *
