Chapter 9: First Visit

What if Tae-woo isn’t here?

Even without a guide, Tae-woo was an S-rank esper, so he was frequently dispatched to the field.

Compared to other S-rank espers, he followed orders from higher-ups without complaint, which meant Tae-woo participated in gate raids more often than anyone else.

Since most gates that opened in Korea were difficulty C or lower, the majority were cleared and wrapped up within a single day.

However, when it came to A- or B-rank gates, operations sometimes dragged on for several days.

But Tae-woo being present was also a problem.

Being left alone in the same space with him still felt terrifying to So-won.

True, during the guiding examination last time, So-won had been the one to grab Tae-woo’s hand first and even hug him—but that had only been possible because other people were watching.

So-won took a deep breath.

Tae-woo was still frightening, but somehow, he didn’t seem quite as terrifying as before.

He was trembling a little, sure, but hadn’t he at least managed to greet him first the last time, without breaking down into an ugly mess of tears?

The small hand that had finally gathered courage knocked on the door twice.

As the clear sound echoed down the hallway, a calm voice answered from inside.

[Please come in.]

Thankfully, Tae-woo was inside.

Relieved, So-won carefully opened the door.

Peeking inside, So-won immediately met a pair of ferocious eyes.

He looked to be in a terrible mood.

So-won hastily lowered his gaze.

His own legs were shaking visibly.

An overwhelming urge surged through him—to shut the door and run away.

Tae-woo, meanwhile, was caught off guard by the unexpected visitor.

The moment So-won’s hand had touched him during the guiding examination, it had felt as though someone had struck his brain with a blunt force—thud—and he’d blacked out on the spot.

That evening, when he woke alone in his private room, a hollow sense of emptiness washed over him.

The memory gap left him uneasy, yet his body felt lighter than usual.

Tae-woo couldn’t remember what his first guiding had felt like at all.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he stared down at the back of his hand—the one that must have touched So-won’s.

He had only recently returned from a gate, and his condition should have been terrible, yet even the constant pain he’d always lived with was gone.

After just a brief guiding session, the lifelong pain that had tormented him vanished, and the sensation unsettled him.

But starting the very next day, the pain returned.

As his body writhed under a crushing ache, it kept seeking out a guide.

That warmth he’d felt even without contact, the strange sensation of his entire body relaxing the instant their hands touched, and So-won’s face as he looked up at him, cheeks faintly flushed.

Each time those memories surfaced, Tae-woo recalled So-won trembling pitifully at the sight of him—and forced himself to suppress his filthy desires.

Since the guiding examination, Tae-woo’s attending physician had been visiting his private room incessantly.

The same doctor who usually avoided him outside of checkups, trembling whenever their eyes met, now came by just to gush endlessly about So-won.

It was enough to give Tae-woo a neurosis.

Whenever he finally snapped and glared sharply at the doctor, the man would flee immediately—only to return again after some time had passed.

Knock, knock.

A brisk knocking sound echoed.

Tae-woo sighed and rubbed his face dryly.

The doctor again, he thought.

He’d nearly gone berserk and died during a gate raid, yet it felt like he might lose control right here in the Esper Association, in the middle of Seoul.

“Please come in.”

Creeeak.

The door opened cautiously.

No loud, chattering voice followed.

Sensing something different, Tae-woo turned toward the door.

A pale face peeked in.

The moment their eyes met, the visitor ducked his head sharply.

It was his guide.

Only then did Tae-woo realize he’d been frowning unconsciously, and he hurried to relax his expression.

But it was already too late.

So-won was thoroughly frightened.

Watching him unable to even lift his head, Tae-woo blamed himself.

So-won wanted to run.

But under Tae-woo’s gaze, his feet refused to move even a single step.

The instant the door opened and those sharp eyes met his, So-won’s confidence plummeted without end.

It was obvious—he’d barged into Tae-woo’s private space unannounced and ruined his mood.

Like an anxious puppy, So-won’s eyes darted restlessly before he finally muttered weakly.

“Um… I didn’t know how to contact you, so I came in person.

If I’ve offended you, I’m sorry.”

Even to his own ears, his voice sounded unbearably meek.

This isn’t how it was supposed to go…
So-won squeezed his eyes shut.

Before opening the door, he’d planned to act brave and greet him brightly.

Now he was practically advertising that he, too, still thought of Tae-woo as a monster.

Hearing So-won’s words, Tae-woo realized that he’d passed out on the first day and never given So-won a way to contact him.

He thought of his physician, who’d replayed their post-exam conversation again and again with excessive enthusiasm.

If he had that much energy to praise So-won, he should’ve given his number first.

The image of the doctor’s oily grin practically rang in Tae-woo’s ears.

“It’s fine.

Please, come in.”

Still standing frozen at the entrance, So-won glanced at Tae-woo for permission.

Perhaps sensing the sincerity of his apology, Tae-woo’s expression softened slightly.

So-won let out a silent sigh of relief and finally stepped inside.

Click.

The sound of the door closing felt unnaturally loud.

So-won rolled his eyes around, taking in the room.

Seeing Tae-woo’s private quarters for the first time filled him with curiosity.

Calling it a “private room” felt misleading—it was more like a spacious studio apartment.

Sunlight poured brilliantly through a wall-sized window.

A large, neatly made bed sat directly beneath it, with a bulky guiding machine beside it.

In the center of the room, two three-seater sofas faced each other across a table, and Tae-woo was seated on one of them, watching So-won.

“Mr. Lee So-won.”

“Y-Yes?”

So-won, who’d briefly relaxed while looking around, jolted in surprise.

“Would you like something to drink?”

“Ah….”

So-won’s eyes darted around until he spotted green tea bags resting atop the water dispenser.

“Green tea, please.”

“Understood.

Please, have a seat.”

He’d never really spoken with Tae-woo before, and talking to him felt awkward.

Tae-woo’s low voice was unfamiliar, too.

As Tae-woo stood and walked toward the water dispenser, So-won discreetly stole glances at him.

A massive build, short jet-black hair without a hint of brown mixed in.

Despite the summer heat, he wore a long-sleeved black shirt, the fabric clinging tightly to his broad frame and outlining his physique.

The veins visible on his uncovered face and hands were dark and pronounced, and around his neck was a thick black collar of unknown purpose.

So-won’s gaze settled on Tae-woo’s back.

In his dreams, there was always a massive hole torn open right there.

Even now, it felt as though lifting that shirt would reveal blood pouring endlessly from a gaping wound.

As those memories resurfaced, So-won’s hands began to tremble again.

He clasped his cold fingers tightly together, trying to calm himself.

Tae-woo handed him a paper cup filled with cool water and a green tea bag.

“Thank you.”

The moment So-won accepted the cup, his parched mouth drove him to take a small sip.

Tae-woo sat across from him, watching quietly.

At first glance, So-won’s actions seemed natural enough to suggest he wasn’t afraid—but the faint trembling of his hands and his averted gaze made it clear that was an illusion.

Feeling Tae-woo’s eyes on him even as he drank, So-won thought he might choke.

By the time he glanced down, half the water in the cup was gone.

He set the cup down on the table.

“Shall I give you my contact information first?”

So-won, who’d completely forgotten why he’d come, snapped back to attention at Tae-woo’s words.

Right—that was it.

Feeling inexplicably embarrassed, he nodded.

Tae-woo stood again and retrieved something from the desk to So-won’s right.

When So-won accepted the small slip of paper, the first thing he saw was the name: Kang Tae-woo.

“You even have a business card….”

So-won muttered to himself.

For eight years as his guide, he hadn’t even known Tae-woo’s phone number—much less that he carried a card.

Unable to tear his eyes away from the crisp paper, So-won stared as though trying to memorize it.

Worried he might lose it, he quickly pulled out his phone and saved the number.

So-won’s slender fingers moved busily as he entered Tae-woo’s contact information.

Tae-woo watched him silently.

As always, just having So-won nearby made his condition improve, as if a guiding machine were attached.

The faint warmth he felt was unfamiliar—but not unpleasant.

“Um… and also….”

So-won’s round eyes flicked up toward Tae-woo, gauging his reaction.

His small hands fidgeted as he hesitated.

“They say we have to live together because of the Guide Obligation System.

There’s a government-provided residence, but I don’t really want that….”

Was there such a clause?

Come to think of it, other S-rank espers did seem to live with their guides.

For a moment, Tae-woo imagined living together with So-won.

Coming home to a round-faced guide greeting him, and feeling guiding without the hassle of attaching machines whenever So-won was nearby.

It didn’t sound bad.

‘Your guide will be miserable.’

Why did those words surface now?

At the same time, an image of a guide growing unhappy while living with him came to mind.

On days he returned from a gate, Tae-woo would come home in far worse shape than usual.

After using his abilities, the veins covering his body writhed violently, and he became several times more sensitive than normal.

If he lost control and touched his guide by mistake, So-won could be seriously hurt.

He might even spend nights writhing in pain, making monstrous noises.

Could this guide really endure a place like that?