Every time I recalled that memory, something in my chest tightened, an uncomfortable squeeze that lingered.
‘It’s only natural for Baek Yu-geon. He said he was fine with it, but… I’m a Cremon.’
Since then, there were no more guidings, shared meals, or after-hours with Yu-geon. He’d stopped following me altogether.
The quietness felt odd, as if a piece of my daily life had vanished, leaving behind an empty space. I’d disliked getting close to people for this very reason. The moment they were gone, the silence only underscored how isolated my life had become, making me starkly aware of the distance between me and everyone else.
‘This was the right choice. Canceling the pairing was the best decision.’
Shaking off unnecessary thoughts, I exited the capsule, reminding myself that it was natural to feel emptiness when someone who’d been around was no longer there. In time, these feelings would fade like they’d never existed.
There was no point dwelling on something so obvious. This was finally a return to normalcy. I still needed to track down the researcher working on the antibiotics and find out why Emily had kept things from me. Now, it was a matter I could handle alone.
Even if my identity as a Cremon was exposed while pursuing the researcher, I’d have the peace of knowing no one else would suffer from the fallout. I resolved to be more cautious around others, avoiding deep connections. If I kept to myself, things would work out in time.
* * *
Just as I stepped out of the capsule, I spotted Yu-geon exiting one across the way. His face was flushed—likely from whatever he’d just been doing.
At first, his large frame blocked my view, but then several guides trailed out behind him in a line. They’d just completed a guiding session with him.
“Esper Baek Yu-geon, when’s your next session?”
“The diagnostics team will let you know once the schedule’s arranged.”
“Are you doing level two next time?”
“I’m trying to avoid moving up in levels.”
“Why? A higher level would make things much easier.”
They teased him playfully, but he seemed a bit stiff, maybe uncomfortable around the unfamiliar guides. As I watched from a distance, Yu-geon’s eyes met mine, and he quickly strode over. He looked bright and healthy, just as always.
“Here for a guiding session?”
“No, I just finished.”
“Finished early, huh?”
“And you?”
It had been a while since I’d seen him. Lately, he was always cooped up in the capsule, so running into him by chance like this was rare.
Yu-geon glanced back at the group of guides, who were still watching and whispering about him. He looked a bit flustered, as if using me as an excuse to escape their attention.
“You look well.”
Noticing his distraction, I couldn’t help a slight edge of sarcasm. Yu-geon’s gaze fixed sharply on my face.
“Huh?”
“Nothing. I’m just glad the guiding’s going well for you.”
I clarified hastily, hoping he wouldn’t interpret it as picking a fight. He seemed to study me closely, then suddenly changed the subject.
“Uh… right. You’re headed to the office? I’ve got to check in at the training center.”
“I’ve got one more guiding session left.”
“Alright. Take care.”
He brushed past me, disappearing quickly, as if he always had somewhere else to be. It was the same every time we met—greeted me warmly, then darted away like he was in a hurry.
Was this “distance” he’d talked about really meant to be so far? I’d thought of it as the kind of closeness that allowed him to catch me when I stumbled, but maybe I’d been mistaken…
Meeting him again left me feeling unsettled. And seeing him emerge from a capsule with other guides only heightened the unfamiliarity.
‘Why did he say those things when we canceled the pairing? It would’ve been better if he’d kept quiet.’
Sitting on a sofa in the waiting room, I found myself resentful. Just then, the guides who’d completed the session with Yu-geon sat around a nearby table, chatting.
“Did you see his chest muscles during the guiding shower? They’re so defined!”
“Right? His sides too! I wasn’t expecting much with his soft looks, but what a surprise.”
“His arms should’ve given you a clue. Haven’t you seen enough Espers to judge the size by now?”
Did they actually have him half-undressed during the guiding? And… guiding shower?
The unfamiliar term piqued my curiosity, so I couldn’t help but listen in.
“Hey, Chaeryeong, take it easy. He’s lucky there’s no marking since he’s S-Class, but forcing a shower is against the rules.”
“Did you see him? He didn’t even realize he’d been guiding-showered. His face just turned beet red in shock.”
A guiding shower involves overwhelming the Esper’s body with high-intensity waves. The guide’s energy lingers on the Esper’s body as a kind of “mark,” usually done by guides with their own Esper partners. Outside of a formal pairing, it’s prohibited.
It seemed that Yu-geon’s high rank had protected him from any lasting marks, but…
Even without visible marks, dense waves could cause physical strain if an Esper wasn’t used to them. In severe cases, it could lead to shock, resulting in extreme muscle tension, a racing heart, and an intense heat—a forced arousal of sorts.
Most guides wouldn’t risk such an act without the Esper’s consent. I figured they’d taken liberties with Yu-geon since he was new to the center and unlikely to recognize the implications.
“Honestly, when I heard he hadn’t gone past level two, and his pairing with Guide Gu Sa-weol barely lasted a month, I figured something was off with him. We’ve been touching him all over for days without a single reaction.”
“Still, you’d better be careful; he may be clueless now, but it could come back to bite you.”
“But we did get results, didn’t we? He finally showed a response. So, nothing special about an Esper paired with Gu Sa-weol after all.”
“Why else would she have broken the pairing? Maybe she’s got some… unconventional tastes.”
“Didn’t look that way to me. Honestly, he seemed overly timid, just lying there.”
“Maybe he’s inexperienced? It hasn’t been long since his awakening.”
“It can’t be his first time. With that face and that body? No way.”
“I’d prefer if it were. Makes teaching them all the more fun. Once they’ve got the right… fundamentals, they’re quick learners. Tame them well, and they’ll be all over the place.”
“Exactly. His skin might not look that pale, but his underlayer’s so fair. Leaves the perfect marks. Wonder when he’ll go for level three.”
Their banter grew increasingly crude. It was true that Espers often made low remarks about guides, but from what I could tell, guides could be just as bad, if not worse.
Finally, unable to stomach any more, I got up, planning to disappear into the nearest capsule. One of them turned and spotted me, her voice dropping to a hushed murmur.
“Oh no, Gu Sa-weol’s behind us. Keep it down.”
“Why? She’s the one who broke the pairing anyway.”
I turned my head, fixing a cold stare on the one who’d made that final comment. She averted her gaze, pretending not to notice. I recognized her as Kim Chaeryeong from her ID badge—a blue-tagged C-Class. I looked her over slowly.
‘Why is she so confident with her rank? Does she actually think Baek Yu-geon would entertain her advances?’
Some guides mistakenly assumed that, with fewer guides than Espers, any Esper they fancied would respond positively. She fit the type perfectly. If there was even a chance of her reaching level three guiding with Yu-geon, I’d have half a mind to step in and stop it. Judging by her comments, she’d likely blab about it to everyone in town.
“She’s still staring. What should we do?”
The guide next to Chaeryeong muttered anxiously, clearly aware of the recent incident where I’d radiated energy threateningly at a guide.
I briefly considered making a remark, but held back. The disciplinary committee had already reprimanded me recently, and as Yu-geon’s former pair, anything I said could be easily misunderstood.
‘No sense in ruining my reputation even further.’
Not that it could get much worse when it came to questions about my character, but it would be another matter to have my qualifications as a guide questioned. I wasn’t looking for that kind of attention.
Even if it grated on me, I’d just have to pretend not to hear for the time being.
* * *
“Come on, Song-yi, just this once. Let’s try pairing up.”
“I told you, I already have a pair.”
“Here, take this rose as my pledge. Even if our relationship withers to dust, I’d never resort to mind control. I’m not that kind of Esper.”
“It doesn’t matter whether you’re honorable or not—why won’t you listen? I already said I have a pair.”
“Be honest. You don’t. With a personality like yours, how would you have a pair…”
“I do, and he’s extremely handsome!”
“Oh? He’s right here in front of you, then.”
“He’s in a completely different league than you!”
As I returned to the office, I found Ji-han handing Song-yi a bouquet of roses, persistently asking her to pair with him.
‘He’s still using those roses?’
That rose bouquet had a bit of history. Ji-han used it every time he asked for a pairing, and it had been rejected so often the once-lush blooms were now sad, wilted things, even giving off a faintly unpleasant odor.
‘Why hasn’t he thrown those out?’
“Oh, you’re here, unnie! Ji-han oppa keeps bothering me.”
“Sort it out yourself.”
Despite me never having given her permission, Song-yi had taken to calling me “unnie” with a familiarity she’d decided on her own. Like Yu-geon’s new attitude, it was another irritation I chose to overlook for the time being.
“Sa-weol, does that mean you’ll be my pair?” Ji-han said, a grin spreading across his face.
“Give it up. That bouquet stinks.”
I felt myself growing irritated and moved to swat the flowers away, but he swiftly pulled them back. His smirk was laden with a mischief that made me suspect he’d anticipated my reaction.
‘If only I could get rid of those, he might finally cut back on his nonsense.’
Ji-han was a C-Class mental Esper, capable of mind control—one of the most powerful abilities in his field. But mind control came with certain conditions.
First, it only worked on those of the same rank or lower. Second, the target had to be exposed to his energy for a prolonged period. The required duration varied with each mental Esper.
For this reason, guides often avoided pairings with mental Espers. Ji-han had managed to get by with his wide social network, finding guides willing to work with him despite the risks. But pairing was another matter entirely, given the exponentially increased exposure required—hence, the equally heightened risk of mind control.
