Chapter 8: This Time, Human

No matter how angry he got or how much he protested, there was nothing that could be changed.

Eight years ago, on the day So-won was matched with the monster Kang Tae-woo, even when he struggled desperately to have the matching invalidated, nothing changed then either.

Kang Tae-woo.

Those three syllables carried overwhelming weight.

In the face of So-won’s stubborn resolve, his mother ultimately broke down in tears, and his father pressed hard between his brows, letting out a deep sigh.

The bright, cheerful atmosphere from before vanished completely.

So-won’s heart throbbed with guilt, feeling as though he were being unfilial, but all he could say was an apology.

Tae-woo had ended his life just a few days ago—earlier even than So-won’s parents would have.

He hadn’t even been able to close his eyes properly.

His abdomen had been torn open, his entire body soaked in blood, all of it drained away as he died stiff and cold.

And it had happened right in front of So-won.

As those memories surfaced, So-won’s expression darkened further.

He felt sorry toward his parents, but this time, at least, So-won had to take responsibility for Tae-woo’s death.

Unable to endure the heavy air any longer, So-won fled to his room.

Click.

As the door shut with a small sound, So-won slowly slid down to the floor.

He had expected their opposition, but it was fiercer than he’d imagined.

Still, he had to make them understand somehow.

Because of the Guide Obligation System, So-won had to become Kang Tae-woo’s guide anyway, and at this point, there was no way to change the outcome.

Outside, it had grown dark before he realized it.

Lying on his bed, So-won was about to search Tae-woo’s name when he spotted it already sitting in the real-time trending keywords, before he’d even finished typing.

Tilting his head in confusion, So-won tapped Tae-woo’s name.

The screen immediately filled with new articles he hadn’t seen yesterday.

[Monster Kang Tae-woo, Even His Matching Rate Is Monstrous]

So-won frowned at the headline.

A monster?

Sure, even he had thought of Tae-woo that way before, but calling a person a monster was too much.

Thinking of Tae-woo, who must have always been treated like a monster, pity welled up inside him.

To past So-won, and even to his one and only guide, Tae-woo had been treated as nothing but a monster.

This time would be different.

At the very least, So-won himself resolved to treat him not as Monster Kang Tae-woo, but as Human Kang Tae-woo.

That aside, it was surprising.

It hadn’t been long since the results came out, yet news was already spreading so fast that articles were up.

Opening the top article, So-won read that Tae-woo had recorded an unprecedented 100% matching rate and finally gained a guide.

It seemed they hadn’t yet figured out that the guide was So-won; there was almost no information about the guide at all.

He read a few more articles, but most of them said similar things.

Turning off his phone, So-won lay staring at the ceiling.

Several days had passed, yet the situation still didn’t feel real.

Or maybe he’d just been dreaming for eight whole years.

Should I have memorized some lottery numbers?

Pointless thoughts trailed one after another.

If he’d known things would turn out like this, he should’ve paid more attention to the news back then.

For the past eight years, So-won had done nothing but lock himself away in his room, so he barely knew about even major incidents.

He had no memory at all of the early and middle period after becoming Tae-woo’s guide, and after that, he only remembered things like how Tae-woo wouldn’t come home for long stretches, or the most recent Incheon Gate incident.

Like this, the only way So-won could possibly be of help to Tae-woo seemed to be through guiding.

So-won let out a deep sigh.

***

So-won woke up with hollow, sunken eyes.

Every night before sleeping, closing his eyes was difficult.

He was afraid that if he shut them even briefly, he’d open them again in an operating room filled with his own screams.

If he tried to calm his anxiety and lowered his eyelids even for a moment, he’d see Tae-woo coughing up blood as he closed his eyes, smell the stench of blood, feel the chill of his hand, sense the threadlike waves—and all of it tormented So-won.

And once he finally fell asleep, he always had nightmares.

This had been repeating every single night.

“Haah….”

After another nightmare, So-won woke at the break of dawn.

He’d clearly only fallen asleep well past midnight, yet he woke while the sky outside the window was tinged bluish, as if the sun were just about to rise.

He felt like he could count the hours he’d slept over the past few days on one hand.

It seemed he’d thrashed about in his sleep, because the blanket had fallen to the floor.

Cold sweat drenched his entire body, leaving his clothes damp.

Even after waking, the scenes from the dream remained vividly etched in his mind.

His hands trembled violently.

Whenever he had a nightmare, So-won always searched Tae-woo’s name.

Only after confirming there was no article saying Tae-woo had died could he finally relax.

For the past week, So-won hadn’t left the house at all.

It had already been a week since the guiding examination, yet he hadn’t met Tae-woo even once since then.

At first, So-won had tried to contact him.

But there was a problem.

For the past eight years, So-won hadn’t even contacted Tae-woo once, so he didn’t know his number.

Still, he didn’t give up and called the Esper Association to try reaching Tae-woo.

– We’re sorry.

Even for a designated guide, we cannot provide an esper’s phone number over the phone due to privacy protection.

That very first response caught So-won off guard.

Accepting that it made sense, he then asked them to connect him directly to Tae-woo instead.

– Kang Tae-woo, Esper, does not accept call transfers from external parties.

It sounded like an answer prepared in advance just to mock him.

In the end, So-won gained nothing and had to hang up the phone in vain.

There was only one thing So-won knew about Tae-woo.

Tae-woo’s house, which So-won had thought of as a prison for eight years.

But Tae-woo’s home had never once been made public, so if So-won showed up out of the blue, Tae-woo would surely find it strange.

Even the one thing So-won knew turned out to be useless.

Still, it wasn’t as though nothing had happened during that time.

So-won finally succeeded in persuading his parents, and he quit attending university.

Unlike eight years ago, he’d considered continuing college this time, but after much deliberation, he applied for a leave of absence, worried he’d neglect his guiding for Tae-woo otherwise.

Around then, he still had a few close friends at university, but to the current So-won, they were people he’d lost contact with eight years ago.

He also replaced all the cheap, childish clothes with ones that suited the tastes of thirty-year-old So-won.

Thanks to his regression, there wasn’t much money left in his bank account, but it was possible because a large sum had come in immediately after he became Kang Tae-woo’s designated guide.

With no way to contact Tae-woo, So-won grew lax.

If not for the nightmares every night, his days were peaceful—almost like the time before he became Tae-woo’s guide.

Today as well, he planned to lie on his bed enjoying the cool air-conditioning.

That was, if not for the mail that arrived from the Guide Association just after noon.

Opening the envelope, So-won pulled something out.

A small white card.

A guide registration card—essentially a guide’s ID.

As he alternated his gaze between his own photo on the card and the name of his assigned esper, Kang Tae-woo, a sparkling idea popped into So-won’s head.

Tae-woo practically lived in his private room at the Esper Association.

Even before living together with So-won, he’d chosen to stay at the association instead of his perfectly good house.

Thanks to that, So-won could breathe a little easier away from that stifling home.

Unless something unusual came up, Tae-woo would almost certainly be in his private room today as well.

Admiring his own cleverness, So-won immediately began getting ready to go out.

***

The Esper Association lobby, just past lunchtime, was far more crowded than the last time he’d been there.

Swallowing nervously at the tension of soon meeting Tae-woo, So-won bravely walked up to the information desk.

“How may I help you?”

“Where is Kang Tae-woo’s private room?”

“I’m sorry.

We cannot disclose an esper’s private room to outsiders.”

It was exactly the answer he’d expected.

So-won rummaged through his pocket and handed over his guide registration card.

Upon seeing Tae-woo’s name on the card So-won confidently presented, the staff member stared back and forth between So-won and the card several times with an incredulous look.

Still unable to believe it, they checked So-won’s guide registration number in the system.

It was real.

They wanted to believe it was a system error, but on the computer screen, So-won’s photo and Kang Tae-woo’s photo were displayed side by side.

The staff member’s mind went blank, recalling Tae-woo’s terrifying reputation and the few times they’d crossed paths with him.

They didn’t even want to go near that area, but since So-won wasn’t an outsider and was, in fact, the designated guide, they had no choice but to escort him.

“I’ll guide you there….”

The staff member’s steps were heavy.

Following them into the elevator, So-won secretly memorized the floor number they pressed.

The 10th floor.

He might need to come again later, so he had to remember it well.

The floor they arrived at was quieter than anywhere else.

There were no people walking the halls, no room numbers on the doors, and despite the large structure, there were noticeably fewer rooms.

In the silent corridor, only the footsteps of So-won and the staff member echoed.

It was so quiet it felt unnatural.

“This is it.”

The staff member, who had stopped before he realized it, pointed to a firmly closed door.

When So-won bowed slightly, the staff member hurried away with brisk steps.

Watching them disappear, So-won then looked around.

Tae-woo’s private room was at the very end of the corridor.

There were no other rooms nearby, and the inside was silent.

There was no sign of anyone at all.