Chapter 22: Educational Emergency

The interim examination itself was nothing special.

Just like during the guiding test, So-won and Tae-woo were connected to a large machine, performed light guiding, and had their readings recorded.

After being told there were no abnormalities, the interim examination was over.

It ended so quickly it felt almost anticlimactic.

“Esper Kang Tae-woo will undergo one additional test.”

After saying that, the attending physician took Tae-woo away.

Left alone once again, So-won’s mood sank.

Guiding is insufficient.

He had thought it would be enough—his matching rate had risen significantly, and he was guiding far more often than eight years ago.

Guiding happened even without physical contact, and lately, they had even fallen asleep together after guiding.

And yet, it was still not enough?

Then what—did he need to cling to Tae-woo all day long?

Or was his method of guiding wrong?

So-won, whose knowledge of guiding was woefully inadequate, had no idea what the problem was.

If I’d known it would be like this, I should’ve paid attention when they taught it at school.

Back when So-won was a student, education about Espers and Guides was almost as frequent as s*x education.

Never once did he imagine he’d become a Guide himself, so every time those classes came up, he would put his head down on the desk and drift into a deep sleep.

He’d been happy back then.

Who would’ve thought he’d regret it like this?

For the past few days, he’d been certain his guiding had helped Tae-woo—but now it felt like he’d only been a burden.

His heart felt heavy.

Not long after Tae-woo left the lab, the door suddenly flew open.

BANG—!

Already done?

So-won looked toward the entrance.

But Tae-woo wasn’t there.

Only the attending physician stood in the doorway, panting for breath.

So-won leaned forward to look past him, searching the hallway—but Tae-woo was nowhere to be seen.

The physician hurried over and shoved something into So-won’s hands.

He looked deeply unsettled, as though someone were chasing him.

“This—please!

You absolutely must read this.

You have to!”

Caught off guard, So-won looked down at what he’d been handed.

A pamphlet?

He didn’t know what it was, but when he spotted the words ‘Adults Only’ printed on it, his eyes widened and he hastily folded it in half.

“Never—never—show this to Esper Kang Tae-woo.

And don’t tell him about it either!”

The desperation on the physician’s face made So-won nod vigorously.

Making sure no one was watching, he folded it as small as possible and shoved it into his pocket.

His flustered reaction made it look like he’d received a massive bribe—but in reality, it was just a booklet that was neither thin nor particularly thick.

Watching So-won, the physician nodded to himself.

For some reason, those wide, startled eyes felt strangely reliable.

***

Without a shred of suspicion, Tae-woo followed the physician into the examination room.

Leaving him there, the physician frantically searched for a box he’d shoved into a forgotten corner.

“Found it!”

What he retrieved was a guiding instruction pamphlet.

Despite being essential material, it had been deemed minors-prohibited due to its unnecessarily detailed illustrations and was thus banished to the storage room—left to gather dust like a shameful secret.

It was rarely useful, which was why he hadn’t had the heart to throw it away.

Thank goodness he hadn’t.

Rummaging through the box, the physician selected exactly what they needed.

Making sure Tae-woo wouldn’t notice, he quickly tucked it into his clothes and bolted for his lab—where So-won was waiting.

He didn’t know why Esper Kang Tae-woo was acting the way he was, but one thing was certain:
If Tae-woo found out he’d handed this over, the physician wouldn’t escape unscathed.

After passing the guidebook to So-won, the physician rushed straight back to the examination room.

Thankfully, he made it back before Tae-woo’s test ended.

Tae-woo, having fallen victim to the physician’s scheme, unknowingly underwent the same test twice before returning to the lab with him.

“Mr. Lee So-won.”

“Yes—!

Y-Yes?”

So-won, who’d been secretly exchanging glances with the physician while avoiding Tae-woo’s eyes, jumped in surprise.

It was an oddly stiff reaction, but Tae-woo noticed nothing amiss and continued.

“Shall we head home?”

“What about you, Tae-woo?”

“I have work to attend to.

I’ll take you home and then return to the Association.”

So-won hesitated.

He felt like he should stay with Tae-woo and provide even a little more guiding—especially since it wasn’t enough.

Just then, the stiff, folded paper in his pocket jabbed insistently into his thigh, as if reminding him not to forget about it.

The physician had left so suddenly, and Tae-woo had returned so quickly, that So-won hadn’t had a chance to check its contents.

The pamphlet was still sleeping quietly in his pocket.

So-won glanced down.

Even folded as small as possible, its stiff texture and thickness caused the edge to peek out from his pocket.

His sense of duty to guide Tae-woo clashed with his curiosity about the pamphlet’s contents.

Ideally, he could guide while reading it—but the physician had begged him to keep it secret, so he couldn’t check it in front of Tae-woo.

“Then… I’ll go home.”

He felt bad toward Tae-woo—but right now, his desire to read what was in his pocket won out.

***

So-won shielded his pocket with his arm and gazed out the window.

Tall buildings gradually disappeared, replaced by trees and mountains.

The scenery grew familiar—they were nearing Tae-woo’s home.

“We’ve arrived.”

“Thank you.”

Tae-woo parked in front of the house.

So-won bowed lightly and was about to get out when something occurred to him.

He turned back.

“Today… you’re coming home, right?”

His voice trembled with unease.

Once Tae-woo left home, he rarely returned.

Last weekend, he’d stayed only because the typhoon had been severe—but normally, he never stayed longer than a day.

In the eight years So-won had been Tae-woo’s Guide, this was the first time he’d stayed home this long.

So-won knew all too well that if Tae-woo didn’t return, he’d have nightmares again.

He could endure one sleepless night—but several days, like before, would be unbearable.

Tae-woo gripped the steering wheel, thinking.

He’d originally planned to stay away to give So-won some rest after a tiring weekend of guiding and examinations.

But whether it was his imagination or not, So-won’s eyes looked like they were hoping he’d come back.

“I’ll return in the evening.”

Judging by the way So-won’s face immediately brightened, Tae-woo had chosen correctly.

Not satisfied with just the answer, So-won pressed for a promise before finally letting him go.

He walked away with light, lively steps.

Only after watching So-won enter the house safely did Tae-woo turn the car around.

He hurried back toward the Association—if he wanted to return by evening, he’d need to finish all the work that had piled up over the weekend.

As soon as So-won entered Tae-woo’s house, he pulled the pamphlet from his pocket.

“What is this, anyway…?”

He unfolded the crumpled pamphlet back to its original shape.

The creases remained, but they didn’t interfere with reading.

He’d been itching to know what it was—why the physician had handed it over so cautiously, and why he’d insisted Tae-woo never see it.

So-won randomly opened a page.

A festival of skin tones assaulted his eyes.

So-won snapped the pamphlet shut.

What the—?

Did it get swapped with something else halfway through?

It felt like the physician had accidentally given him something strange.

So-won checked the cover.

Against a sky-blue background, two white-painted male characters stood with their arms around each other’s shoulders.

The title read—

[Same-s*x (Male–Male) Guiding TIP — Adults Only]

No wonder the “Adults Only” label had felt so embarrassing.

He hadn’t expected something like this inside a simple pamphlet.

Now he finally understood why the physician had insisted Tae-woo never see it.

If he’d taken this out in front of him, things would’ve become even more awkward between them.

Thank goodness I folded it properly and hid it.

Even though he knew no one was around, So-won glanced about nervously.

He checked once more to make sure Tae-woo’s car was gone.

Only after confirming he was truly alone did he go into the bedroom and shut the door tightly.

Now he was completely alone.

Relaxing at last, So-won opened the pamphlet from the very first page.

The beginning was genuinely informative.

It explained the basics of guiding—how to do it effectively, how proximity mattered, and how contact closer to the body’s interior, especially certain areas, produced better results.

Seeing familiar information neatly organized jogged memories of guiding knowledge he’d forgotten.

There were things he didn’t know, too.

It wasn’t simply about maximizing contact area—sometimes, even limited contact worked better depending on emotional state.

Positive emotions are important.

Nodding, So-won turned the page.

Then he hit a wall.

Seeing the page that clearly announced the start of high-level guiding explanations, So-won took a deep breath.

He swallowed hard—his Adam’s apple bobbing noticeably.

Turning the page once more, a whole new world unfolded in his hands.

The guidebook had a wholesome cover—and contents that were anything but.