* * *
Smooth fingers, like polished marble, slipped between Jaewon’s rough, calloused knuckles.
“What the hell, Youngha.”
Jaewon scowled and tried to shake the hand off, but Youngha wouldn’t let go.
The cool grip wrapped around him like a trap.
Youngha, completely unfazed, added:
“Guiding with mucous membranes gives better readings.”
“That’s—ugh…”
He wasn’t wrong.
Skin-to-mucous membrane contact gave better Guiding results than skin-to-skin.
And mucous membrane to mucous membrane? Even higher.
But no one actually did that unless it was an emergency—like CPR.
Or if they were, say, dating.
“Don’t say disgusting stu—”
Before he could even finish the sentence, Youngha suddenly bent down.
Before he could register what was happening—
Warm breath brushed against his fingertips.
“……!”
A hot, soft tongue enveloped his fingers.
The shock jolted his body upright.
A tingle zipped down the back of his neck like a lightning strike.
With a wet, obscene sound, Youngha’s tongue and the mucous membranes inside his mouth stuck to Jaewon’s index and middle fingers.
That squirming warmth licked, dragged up, and sucked hard as if trying to swallow them whole.
He could feel everything—body heat, breath, even heartbeat—far too vividly.
Like he’d been swallowed alive.
Their eyes met.
Youngha bit down playfully on the tip of his finger with a tiny fang.
Only then did Jaewon snap out of it a bit.
“AAARGH! Joo Youngha!!”
Youngha, the shameless bastard, looked straight at him and smiled softly.
Even the faint vibrations in his mouth grated on Jaewon’s nerves.
His tongue teased the tender skin between his fingers, brushing over his nail beds like he was tasting them.
It was disturbingly thorough.
“Let go, I’m warning you—!”
Jaewon twisted his hand free by force.
But in the next second, Youngha grabbed his wrist again.
It hit him just how powerless he was now.
He really wasn’t an esper anymore.
There was no way he could overpower Youngha now.
Youngha pressed his face into Jaewon’s palm and started lapping and biting again.
“Stop, wait, ngh—!”
The sensation of his palm being scraped and licked was so bizarre and repulsive that Jaewon’s head spun.
Youngha’s tongue coiled along his palm, then again—
Chup.
That wet sound, as he suckled his fingers again, echoed with obscene hunger.
‘This psycho—!’
Even the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.
“I said STOP!”
Jaewon couldn’t take it anymore.
He shoved his fingers deep into Youngha’s throat.
“Kh—!”
Youngha finally gagged and let go, coughing lightly.
He actually looked like he was in pain, and Jaewon was momentarily thrown off.
“Are—are you okay?”
Maybe he went too far.
Even if he was EX-rank, the throat was a sensitive area.
And he had stabbed in pretty deep…
“That’s what you get for pulling weird shit. You’re not seriously hurt, right?”
Youngha coughed a few times, then tilted his head and looked up at Jaewon with teary eyes.
Then, with a lazy smile, he said:
“Aren’t you gonna do more?”
“……”
Jaewon was rendered speechless by that unhinged comment.
“It’s okay if you keep going.”
As he spoke, Youngha slowly licked his lips.
His flushed lips, long lashes glistening with tears, gave him an absurdly innocent look.
That’s when Jaewon noticed the thunderous pounding in his ribs.
‘Is this guy insane?’
Okay, he knew Youngha was crazy.
But this crazy?
Was this shock? Fear?
Maybe both.
“Measurement complete. You may come out now.”
Just in time, a researcher opened the door.
Jaewon jumped to his feet like he’d been electrocuted.
“Ack!”
“……?”
“N-nothing!”
Jaewon awkwardly brushed it off.
To hide his embarrassment, he scrubbed his still-wet fingers harshly against his pants.
His cheeks were burning, and his head still spinning.
The researcher sat them down at the desk to begin a debriefing.
It felt disturbingly like a couple’s counseling session.
“Your compatibility measured at around 37%.”
“……Wait, are you saying I really became a Guide?”
Jaewon stared at the researcher in disbelief.
He was really a Guide now?
How the hell did this become real?
The researcher, perhaps misunderstanding the shocked look on Seo Jaewon’s face, kindly offered an explanation.
“Beginner Guides often lack a sense for what guiding feels like. Especially if their compatibility rate is low.”
This is a disaster.
It was already hard enough to accept that he’d become a Guide, but now his average matching rate was just 37%?
Even considering his partner was Joo Youngha, 37% was a pretty low number.
Becoming a Guide was bad enough—but having those numbers?
Even worse.
Generally, a match rate of 50–60% was considered standard when paired with an Esper of similar level.
At that level, the Guide could at least keep the Esper from losing control.
‘If I’m at 37% with an EX-rank Esper, does that mean I’ll be better with lower-ranked ones? Maybe A or… B class? Surely not C-class…’
His head throbbed from the sudden, almost violent change in circumstances.
So everything he’d worked for until now—well, technically not that long, since he’d regressed in time—but still, this was all he knew how to do.
In the middle of his spiraling thoughts, the researcher spoke up again.
“Should I say… congratulations? You’re the first-ever EX-ranked Guide.”
“Sorry, what?”
What kind of nonsense was that?
Jaewon blurted out before he could stop himself.
“But… I only got 37%, didn’t I?”
“Oh, that’s right—you said you used to be an Esper.”
The researcher smiled, as if he understood exactly what Jaewon was thinking.
His expression screamed, “Ah, Espers…”—as if Jaewon still counted as one.
Which he didn’t.
“As you probably know, Guide rankings are determined relatively.”
“…Right.”
Even Espers knew that much.
While an Esper’s grade is determined by how much energy they can emit—basically their “strength”—a Guide’s rank is based on the highest rank of Esper they can effectively guide.
Higher-ranked Espers require more energy to be purified, after all.
For example, a C-rank Guide trying to handle an A-rank Esper would have a hard time—and it would be exhausting.
Jaewon himself, back when he was an S-rank Esper, had left more than a few low-grade Guides completely wiped out.
That was all in the past now, of course.
“A Guide’s rank is defined by the highest level of Esper they can match over 50% with.”
But mine was only 37%…
Jaewon stared at him suspiciously.
As if to counter his skepticism, the researcher turned the monitor toward him.
“Look at this. Just for a moment—you hit 100%.”
The graph, which had been cruising calmly along, spiked sharply at the end of the test.
It was a sudden and shocking surge.
‘Wait… wasn’t that when Joo Youngha did that weird thing?’
Jaewon shut his eyes tightly.
His face flushed with heat.
His cheeks were burning.
So the whole “mucous membrane guiding” thing wasn’t some porn fantasy after all?
He bit down hard to keep his expression neutral, but it was a struggle.
Oblivious, the researcher carried on, visibly excited now.
“100% is theoretically possible, but I’ve never actually seen it happen. And with Joo Youngha, no less! How did you do it? Any guesses?”
“…But it only lasted a second, didn’t it? Most of the time it was still really low.”
Jaewon tried subtly to steer the conversation elsewhere.
Although, to be honest, he was genuinely curious.
Did this really justify giving him an EX-grade?
Espers have to undergo grading twice.
But I’m the same rank as Joo Youngha now?
I can’t exactly keep my fingers in his mouth during every mission.
The thought alone made his skin crawl. Jaewon rubbed his arm unconsciously.
“Don’t worry about it. What matters most is the maximum match rate. Your initial numbers are just the lowest baseline.”
Now the researcher spoke with the air of a top-tier cram school teacher.
“If you practice consistently, your average will definitely go up.”
“Oh…”
Jaewon just nodded, feeling like a clueless student.
It did sound familiar.
Maybe he’d even seen it in a drama once.
“If you work really hard for about ten years, you can probably increase it by 8%.”
“…Excuse me?”
He was so stunned he couldn’t even speak.
Ten years? And only an 8% increase? That’s just 45% average!
But the researcher continued nonchalantly.
“That’s the average. Though in Joo Youngha’s case, it might be even lower since he’s such a unique Esper. Building a strong, trusting relationship with your partner is crucial.”
“Ah… trust…”
Jaewon cast a side glance at Joo Youngha with a sour look.
Trust?
That guy was practically the poster child for distrust.
‘At this rate, I won’t even gain 1% over the next 10 years.’
Yeongha flashed him a bright smile in return.
That smile. That’s the problem.
He looked like some kind of innocent angel, sitting calmly with both hands on his knees.
So well-behaved. So pure. But it was all just a shell.
So many people had fallen for those sweet, drooping eyes. Still were.
When Jaewon thought about all the things that smile had masked, he couldn’t bring himself to smile back.
“…Haa.”
The researcher seemed to mistake his sigh for something else and gently tried to comfort him.
“I know this must feel discouraging right now, but considering your partner is Joo Youngha, you’re actually doing pretty well. You might even be able to get into the mid-40s with S- or A-class Espers.”
“Ah… yeah…”
But that’s still below the average.
So basically, I’m EX-rank in name only—utterly useless.
Maybe he just wasn’t cut out to be a Guide.
“Joo Youngha, you heard that, right?”
Maybe this was a blessing in disguise.
Even if someone suddenly told him to live the rest of his life as a Guide, it wasn’t something he could just do.
With numbers like this, Yeongha would probably understand why it couldn’t work out.
He hated guiding to begin with—he’d never tolerate being stuck with a low-match Guide for hours.
Jaewon had thought he was sick of it all, but now that it was really over, it didn’t feel good.
It was like being exiled from a world he’d grown used to.
Maybe he’d been more attached than he realized, after struggling so hard to survive in it.
Still, Yeongha and the rest of the team were alive, and he’d figure something out.
Worst case, he could just take over his parents’ BBQ restaurant.
But unexpectedly, Yeongha gave him a bright smile and said,
“Even if it’s just in name, I don’t care. I’m fine with you being my Guide.”
“Yeah, just in name… wait, what? Hey, I’m only at 37%, you know!”
Matching rates aren’t some kind of horoscope or MBTI test.
No one knew that better than Seo Jaewon—once an Esper himself.
In emergencies, sure, you might have to be guided by someone with a low match.
It was still better than nothing. But in the field, anything could happen.
And one thing was certain: the burden on the Esper when their overload isn’t properly relieved was way greater than whatever fatigue the Guide might feel.
“You need to forget about having a dedicated Guide. It’s too dangerous.”
With his current numbers, Jaewon wouldn’t be able to work on the field.
Honestly, he wasn’t even cut out to be a stay-at-the-center kind of Guide.
Yeongha needed someone more capable.
But Yeongha just beamed.
“If you’re my Guide, I’m fine even if it kills me.”
* * *
