Chapter 19: A Dubious Documentary and a Reluctant Reunion

“Do these people think I’m some kind of actor?”

“They apologized and said the broadcasting station would come to us this time. They just want to film short scenes, like the training ground and a pre-mission briefing.”

“What pre-mission briefing? We just confirm identities among the team and then deploy, that’s it.”

“Yes, scenes like that.”

Chae-jun nodded. He added that they specifically wanted to recreate the moments right before an operation.

There was truly nothing to it. The director just came to offer his support, and he and Han Do-hoon merely exchanged a nod… Wait, what?

“Does that mean I have to film with Han Do-hoon again?”

“Yes. They requested it to look like a joint training exercise before a counter-terrorism mission.”

“What nonsense! I never did any joint training!”

Before the counter-terrorism mission, all Sa-yoon and Han Do-hoon had done was fiercely compete for rankings, putting on a show of who was superior.

“That’s just how television is. They probably need some suitable scenes to air. The director even told us to cooperate casually.”

“These are all fraudsters, aren’t they?”

Claiming to film a documentary, the broadcasting station seemed intent on writing a novel instead. Sa-yoon frowned, grumbling under his breath. Ultimately, it meant he had to see Han Do-hoon.

First Han Do-hoon, then his biological father, then Han Do-hoon again. What kind of terrible pilgrimage through hell was this? Sa-yoon sighed so deeply it felt like the very ground beneath him would wear away.

People carrying dark cameras bustled about the enormous training ground. Cables lay haphazardly across the dirt floor.

“……”

Sa-yoon stopped in his tracks, gazing at Han Do-hoon, who stood on the opposite side. Han Do-hoon’s head conspicuously protruded above his teammates. Upon spotting Sa-yoon, Han Do-hoon looked back.

‘Would it be too late for a burst of anger if I punched him now?’

After returning to headquarters, Sa-yoon had certainly taken Kang Ah-jun to task. He had warned Kang Ah-jun to keep his mouth shut, promising an ‘interesting experience’ if he so much as uttered a light word.

However, there hadn’t been enough time to properly deal with Han Do-hoon. He’d had to meet his biological father, and afterward, feeling unwell, he had simply let time slip away. It was now too awkward to confront Han Do-hoon about his previous devious actions.

Han Do-hoon, having noticed Sa-yoon, was looking his way. Their eyes met, and Sa-yoon beckoned to him with a finger.

“Excuse me for a moment.”

Han Do-hoon dismissed the people around him and approached. Seen like this, he appeared utterly impeccable. His formal uniform, clinging perfectly to his chest and ribcage, was practically a magazine spread. The problem, however, was that only his exterior was flawless.

Sa-yoon stopped in a secluded spot, glaring at Han Do-hoon. Han Do-hoon, who had followed, simply wore a strange smile without a word. His demeanor exuded an air of composure.

“You seem to be in good spirits, Mr. Sexual Harasser.”

“Calling me a sexual harasser is a bit unfair. I clearly told you in advance to avoid me if you wanted to.”

This scoundrel, who had immediately pressed his lips against Sa-yoon’s after a mere semblance of a warning, had the audacity to talk so much.

“You call that giving me time to avoid you? How generous.”

“Isn’t that amount of time more than sufficient for us?”

Having nothing left to say, Sa-yoon merely pursed his lips. For two people who operate on hundredths of a second, a few seconds was not just sufficient, but more than enough time to twist an opponent’s lips.

“You stood still for quite a while, so I thought you were fine.”

“Let’s stop talking about that.”

Reacting now would only imply that Sa-yoon had been mesmerized by Han Do-hoon’s kiss and dazedly gone along with it. While a shred of truth existed in that, he absolutely refused to let Han Do-hoon know.

And this time, Sa-yoon refused to lose the upper hand to Han Do-hoon. In the waiting room, he had been too flustered, merely being led wherever Han Do-hoon swayed him.

Steeling himself, Sa-yoon crossed his arms and looked up at Han Do-hoon.

“First, I think I should say this before today’s filming. It would be troublesome if you pull another crazy stunt in front of other people.”

“So, have you decided on your answer?”

Seeing Han Do-hoon’s composed face, the urge to punch him resurfaced. What did that composure mean? Did he assume Sa-yoon would naturally accept, or was it a casual offer for which any answer was fine? Sa-yoon couldn’t tell.

What was certain was that either reason was infuriating. Sa-yoon took a breath. This time, he refused to be swept away by the other’s pace.

“Your suggestion was quite intense, so I did think about it, at least.”

Remarkably, Sa-yoon had done his best to consider Han Do-hoon’s situation. If the director knew, he would proudly pat Sa-yoon on the head a hundred times, praising him for becoming an adult.

Han Do-hoon had mentioned a rejection reaction to inhibitors. Given his pathological urges and the fact that he carried such difficult-to-obtain medication, it couldn’t be a mild symptom.

This implied that he had never, since birth, engaged in relations with others without an inhibitor. An Esper of Han Do-hoon’s high rank would need to wear an inhibitor when encountering not only Guides but also other Espers, unless it was another S-class.

Once these facts were established, the next assumption was swift. ‘Yes, he must have wanted to enjoy himself without an inhibitor at least once. He must have longed to roll around in a perfect state, free from the terrible headaches, nausea, and phantom pains.’

In other words, he must have wanted to experience intimacy with an S-class Esper. To the point of dreaming about it. That’s why he was approaching Sa-yoon, feigning interest.

To some extent, Sa-yoon understood Han Do-hoon’s feelings. The thought of enduring terrible pain every time he received guiding or relieved his urges sounded like hell. As another man, it was a story he could sympathize with a hundred times over. If Sa-yoon had heard it as a third-party account, he might even have suggested helping the poor soul.

The problem, however, was that the target was Sa-yoon himself.

“Still, being used as your test subject really doesn’t appeal to me. Find another S-class. It doesn’t seem like you made this offer because you genuinely like me anyway.”

Han Do-hoon’s smile deepened.

“You deduced that much.”

“I’m rather intelligent, you see.”

“I’m not merely thinking of you as a test subject.”

This implicitly confirmed that he was a test subject. Han Do-hoon, having cleanly admitted his intentions, stroked his chin, maintaining his smile as if he found the situation amusing.

“I made the offer because I genuinely feel a certain attraction. You’re precisely my type, Sa-yoon. From the very first time I saw you.”

“I’ve heard that a lot, so it’s not exactly a novel feeling.”

There had been countless individuals who had latched onto him, claiming he was their type. Thanks to his famous looks, which matched his high rank, an abundance of people secretly sought him out to confess. While this opponent was a significant figure, and Sa-yoon was honestly surprised by a tiny margin, he simply shrugged nonchalantly.

“That’s the most insincere confession I’ve ever heard. Let me make this clear: I’m rejecting your proposal, Han Do-hoon. Very cleanly.”

“That’s truly a pity.”

Han Do-hoon spoke, his voice devoid of a single trace of lingering regret. He was as thick-skinned as Sa-yoon, casually uttering words that contradicted his true feelings.

“My true intentions have been exposed, and my confession didn’t work, so I have no other options. Understood.”

“Thank you for understanding.”

Sa-yoon inwardly breathed a sigh of relief at Han Do-hoon’s surprisingly clean retreat. His worries about the other party potentially clinging to him instantly melted away. He had even worried that Han Do-hoon might unconsciously remember the situation when he was unconscious and pursue him, but it seemed all his fears had been groundless.

Feeling lighthearted, Sa-yoon smiled brightly, facing Han Do-hoon.

“Well, I understand your difficult circumstances. It was information I truly didn’t want to know, but now that I do, it does concern me. I hope a new inhibitor is developed soon, and that awful symptom is completely cured.”

Sa-yoon, having painstakingly uttered these insincere words, extended his hand to Han Do-hoon. Han Do-hoon gazed intently at Sa-yoon’s bright face and outstretched hand. He let out a small sigh, then slowly took Sa-yoon’s hand. Everything about this big fellow was big, including his hands.

“This is merely a small lingering thought. If you ever change your mind, please feel free to contact me. Should a situation arise where you’re feeling down, or want to forget something, for instance.”

Han Do-hoon’s gaze slyly swept over Sa-yoon’s body.

“I’ll take responsibility and resolve it for you.”

Sa-yoon swatted away Han Do-hoon’s lingering hand and replied crisply.

“That will absolutely never happen. It hasn’t happened until now, and it never will.”

Sa-yoon almost kicked the other person but restrained himself. No matter how depressed he got, he had no intention of resolving that emotion through sexual acts, and the possibility of Han Do-hoon being that partner was absolutely zero.

“Let’s end this conversation cleanly here. We have filming soon, and it’s not good for two S-class Espers to raise their voices.”

“That’s true.”

Han Do-hoon took a step back, creating distance between himself and Sa-yoon. It was a relief that he was at least somewhat reasonable. ‘It’s as if one side of his brain is wired backward, but then again, he might be like that because of his pain.’