Episode 65. A Good-Bad Guy, a Just-Bad Guy, and a Weird Guy (8)

‘After that nosebleed yesterday, I really came to my senses. I can’t handle this guy. Not a chance. I don’t even want to.’

Even after she’d fallen asleep, the nosebleed had continued to flow so much that the towel she woke up to was soaked red. That kind of physiological reaction, just from having sex two days in a row, was too terrifying to brush off. The only way Sodam could see herself surviving was to throw Juyul straight at Sora—the upcoming A-rank Guide and another sub-female lead—the moment she appeared, and run for her life.

But while Sodam’s mind scrambled frantically for an escape plan, a hand was already slipping around her waist again—one she quickly blocked. It was just in time, as a loud, energetic voice came from outside the door.

“Guide Maeng Sodam! Esper Baek Juyul! The helicopter’s here! I think it’s… um, time to come out!”

Startled, Sodam tried to push herself away from him, but her legs wobbled, and she fell right back into his arms.

With her brows knit and her face pale with distress, Sodam looked utterly miserable. Juyul, in contrast, looked deeply satisfied as he casually scooped her up in his arms. Without a care, he stepped out of the room with her in his arms—promptly drawing the attention of four eyes all at once.

Among them, the most intense gaze was, of course, Daram’s. The moment their eyes met, Daram quickly averted her gaze, even faster than Sodam could react. Before the tension had a chance to settle, she hurriedly stepped forward and handed Sodam a handkerchief.

“What’s this—sseup…”

“Ah, just, um… thought you might want to wipe off the blood… ahem…”

“…Much appreciated.”

Just moving her lips to speak sent a sharp sting through them. When she briefly touched the handkerchief to her mouth and pulled it away, it was stained with a dark red mark. At this point, she seriously needed some kind of industrial accident insurance.

‘Would compensation be available for victims caught in their superiors’ private relationship disputes…?’

If she framed it the right way, she figured she could claim damages as a party harmed by a clash between an SSS-class and an S-class Esper. That seemed worthy of proper recompense. Once they boarded the helicopter, Sodam looked out over the island below. From above, she could clearly see that an entire section had been completely demolished. Surely the owner would be receiving a generous payout. Which meant maybe, just maybe, she could expect something too.

Later on, Juyul would try to apologize by buying the island himself and offering it to her as compensation—at which point Sodam could only stare in horror.

‘I don’t want it, you lunatic…’

* * *

Even after the events on the uninhabited island, the Association Chairman continued to hound Sodam relentlessly. Juyul and Seonghwa tried to shield her in their own ways, but they couldn’t stop everything—especially practices that had become entrenched over time. What awaited her now was something Sodam had done her utmost to avoid since her possession: the secrecy oath. In other words, the brand.

She could justify her Guidings with Juyul—fine, if she thought of it as saving a life with her body, it made sense. With experience, his touch had become so skillful that, at times, the pleasure was so intense she forgot it was part of her job. And ever since that day, Juyul had become even more persistent, never letting her go until she was the one too exhausted to resist.

But today was different. Sodam, determined not to add another brand, grabbed Juyul’s sleeve the moment the Guiding session ended. It was the first time she clung to him instead of fleeing the Guiding room. And in that moment of vulnerability, Juyul spoke on impulse.

“Wanna run away?”

“…What?”

“We could go to that island I gave you. Or leave the country entirely, disappear somewhere no one would find us.”

“What kind of bullsh*t is that…”

Even from the mouth of someone who wanted to run away from here more than anyone, that was a line so absurd it prompted an involuntary curse. Not because she was trying to argue with him, not out of anger—she was genuinely baffled. The word just slipped out.

But Juyul didn’t answer. Instead, he quietly stroked her forearm. His hand was obsessive, as if trying to erase the scar beneath her sleeve by touch alone. Only then did Sodam understand why he was acting like someone who so deeply understood her feelings.

‘Yeah… that scar does look kind of nasty…’

Of course, Sodam feared the branding process too. But since she wasn’t the one who’d caused those awful scars, seeing Juyul’s overly serious expression only brought a heavy dose of reality crashing back in. Running away with Juyul wouldn’t benefit her at all.

If she took his hand, all she’d gain was a delay—buying a little time before the branding came. But the downsides were countless. In the end, she had only one choice.

‘I hate how rational I am at times like this… Ugh, I really don’t want to go.’

Face clouded, Sodam closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh. One by one, she pried Juyul’s fingers off her arm, then stood and trudged toward the door. With the air of a prisoner walking to the gallows, she slowly grasped the doorknob, sighed again, and glanced back at him.

“I’m going.”

“……”

“If you’re going to say things like that, then next time, bring a proper plan. At least deal with the Association Chairman or something…”

The fact that this so-called grand organization continued to drag her out over every petty subjugation request—as if it were just an excuse to summon Juyul (or rather, Sodam)—was ridiculous. She hadn’t even had a chance to use the two-week vacation she’d earned back on the island. Lately, even just kissing Juyul felt like it was draining her physically, and that was definitely not just in her head.

She left the silent Juyul behind and dragged her feet upstairs. Apparently, even for a prestigious SSS-class Esper, the idea of performing the branding ritual in a separate room on another floor was to avoid showing her a more “disgraceful” side of things. How considerate.

In a room decorated like a private medical suite, Sodam sat with her legs crossed, muttering, ‘Should’ve just run…’ That’s when the door opened, and a sharply dressed man with a stern expression walked straight toward her.

Unlike the Espers she usually met, this one wore a pristine suit and silver-rimmed glasses without a single scratch. It almost felt like he wore them to soften the intimidation in his gaze.

Without the slightest hesitation, he approached and extended a hand.

“Hello, Guide Maeng Sodam. I’m Esper Hwang Eui-chan.”

“Ah… yes. Hello.”

“I didn’t expect we’d meet again. Quite surprising, isn’t it?”

“I didn’t expect it either… Esper Hwang Eui-chan.”

“Of course not.”

As was typical of anyone who had previously met ‘that’ Guide Maeng, Hwang Eui-chan didn’t seem to have a very favorable impression of her. Responding to his sharp tone with reluctant politeness, she shook his hand—only for him to suddenly flip her arm over and yank up her sleeve.

“Hey—wait, wait! Are we starting this fast?!”

“What, would you prefer a Guiding session first or something?”

“Why do you talk like that…”

“Let’s get this over with quickly. I don’t want to invite any unnecessary misunderstandings.”

Before Sodam could stop his hand, the scar she’d nearly forgotten about had already been exposed under the harsh light—faster than her reflexes.

Hwang Eui-chan clicked his tongue as he stared at the thin, knife-slice-like scars surrounding the circular brand. His tone dripped with disdain as he scoffed at her.

“No matter what you do, it’s not like it’ll go away. A foolish choice.”

“Right? And I’m the one stuck dealing with the pain, so what’s the point…”

“Glad to see you’ve come to your senses. At least you won’t cause a scene like last time.”

Their exchange was dry and rigid. A faint green glint flickered in Hwang Eui-chan’s eyes—he was ready to use his ability. Sodam, letting him take her arm, squeezed her eyes shut and silently repeated to herself,

‘It’s just a flu shot in the forearm. Just a flu shot in the forearm…’

Unfortunately, Hwang Eui-chan was no kindly nurse. He didn’t bother with a soft “Here comes the sting~.” He didn’t even give her time to mentally prepare. Without hesitation, he began the branding.

Then came the pain—slow and searing, like her skin was being roasted from the inside out. It spread from the inside of her forearm to the rest of her body, and she clenched her jaw to stop herself from shaking so hard she’d punch him in the face. The taste of blood filled her mouth as the inside of her cheek tore between her teeth.

If only it were over quickly with a single searing press—but no. He moved slowly, as if drawing a perfect circle. The pain crawled, dragged, throbbed. Sodam’s entire body curled inward from the agony. The only part of her that stayed perfectly straight was the forearm he held in place.

By the time she was swallowing mouthfuls of blood from biting her cheek too much, he finally let go.

Sodam clutched her now-numb, burning arm with trembling hands, screaming internally in pain. Hwang Eui-chan, pushing his slightly slipped glasses back up his nose, said flatly:

“You’re human now.”

“…F**k you.”

“…Hm. Guess not quite yet?”