Chapter 2
The world Jaehee opened his eyes to was hell.
Geonwoo was gone. Geonwoo no longer existed in this world.
“Please calm down! Guide Lee Jaehee-nim!”
The Center’s emergency room was in complete chaos. The sudden occurrence of an S-class gate had caused numerous espers and guides to sustain injuries. That alone was enough to create pandemonium, but then a precious S-class guide was brought in fighting for his life.
The medical staff couldn’t help but be shocked. There were only two S-class guides in the country, and naturally, they thought the injured one wouldn’t be Lee Jaehee. He was always under the protection of his partner, S-class esper Choi Geonwoo, and never had even the slightest injury that would warrant a visit to the Center’s emergency room.
Yet here was Jaehee, with a deathly pale face, looking as if he might die at any moment. On top of that came news of an S-class esper’s death. The emergency room was thrown into an absolute crisis.
The same was true for the Center’s upper management. They had lost an S-class esper, the country’s greatest asset. They couldn’t afford to lose the remaining S-class guide as well. Orders came down to save him at all costs, and all medical staff and healing-type espers worked frantically to keep Jaehee alive.
But when Jaehee finally opened his eyes, he had no desire to live, rendering all their efforts futile.
“Let go of me!”
“Grab him now! Administer the sedative!”
“Just let me die!”
They all understood. The death of an esper with whom one had formed a bond—that loss was unimaginably profound. Moreover, from what they’d heard, that death was for Jaehee’s sake. Watching a loved one die to save oneself—Jaehee’s trauma must have been beyond words.
But they weren’t Jaehee. They could only guess at his pain. That’s why everyone so easily told him to live, that it wasn’t his fault. While forcing him to continue living, saying his guiding abilities were necessary for the country.
Yet this only made Jaehee’s suffering worse. How could he possibly go on living? Jaehee felt like he was going insane. He continuously blamed himself, filled with regret.
‘It’s all my fault…’
He couldn’t help but think that way. After all, he was the one who had changed Geonwoo’s once-happy story.
He knew the original work, and he knew that he had altered the story. He also knew that this had led to continuous incidents and accidents.
But he hadn’t returned the story to its original path.
Because he was happy then. Because he wanted to be with Geonwoo. Because Geonwoo had protected him from all those many incidents. He believed everything would be fine, that they could overcome it all.
After all, Geonwoo was the main character of this novel, meant for nothing but happiness. With Geonwoo, nothing bad would happen. All misfortunes would pass him by.
So he thought if he just steeled his resolve and didn’t give up, everything would be fine. He believed they just needed to overcome this trial. His desire to stay by Geonwoo’s side inflated his vague sense of security and created a groundless conviction.
It was the same at the gate. All the monsters showed abnormal behavior. All their killing intent was directed at him. But even in that moment when he felt truly in danger, Geonwoo protected him.
So he felt reassured. He was relieved that after clearing the S-class gate, nothing worse would happen. He was glad he hadn’t left Geonwoo’s side despite all the frightening incidents. Original story be damned! They had overcome everything. That’s what he believed.
But as if mocking that relief, Geonwoo went berserk. It was an abnormal rampage. Just like the monsters, his rampage wasn’t normal. Having continuously guided him, Jaehee knew this wasn’t a state where Geonwoo should have lost control.
The continuous incidents, the appearance of the S-class gate, the monsters’ abnormal behavior, and now Geonwoo’s rampage.
The story kept creating situations where he had to die. And in the final incident, even Geonwoo, who had always protected him, was gone. Instead, Jaehee found himself in mortal danger at Geonwoo’s hands.
He felt resentful. Why did his ending always lead toward death?
And then came an unbearably heavy guilt. Geonwoo’s abnormal rampage was due to him ruining the story. It felt like he had caused it all. Seeing the blood flowing from Geonwoo’s body, watching him cry out in agony at the situation Jaehee had created—belated regret washed over him.
This wasn’t what he had wanted. He never knew it would turn out this way.
‘I just wanted to be happy with you…’
But the ending seemed predetermined from the start. A fate that couldn’t continue. A situation that would only end with one of them dying. Only then did Jaehee accept that he couldn’t be the main bottom character in this story. Everything pointed to that conclusion.
So he sensed the end.
That there was no more running away.
Once he accepted everything, why the original happy story had changed like this no longer mattered. His own death didn’t matter either. The most important thing was to restore Geonwoo’s ending to what it should have been.
So he gave up everything. Feeling that his own unhappy ending was hurting Geonwoo too, he decided to let go of everything.
‘If I die, you’ll reconnect with the main bottom character as in the original story… Then you’ll have a happy ending without these incidents… At least that’s fortunate.’
Taking comfort in that thought, he was ready to go.
But then something unexpected happened. Just when everyone was waiting for his death, Geonwoo took his own life without a moment’s hesitation. Geonwoo had taken the death meant for him. That wasn’t the future Geonwoo was supposed to face.
In this story, death was meant for him, the secondary bottom character.
That’s why Jaehee couldn’t remain sane. How could he not lose his mind? How could he possibly go on living?
It was unbearable. Countless indescribable emotions tangled together, dragging Jaehee into hell. He was gradually swallowed by deep regret. Every moment, even the days he had loved Geonwoo, became a source of regret.
‘If we had never met, if I hadn’t changed the story, if I hadn’t loved you… would everything be different from now?’
He resented everything. It was all endlessly cursed.
Jaehee could no longer go on living. He had no strength left for that.
So he refused all treatments at the Center. He refused to live. Refusing meals was just the beginning; he didn’t hesitate to harm his body. When his limbs were restrained, he used remote guiding to expel all the energy from his body. Everyone was horrified, knowing that expelling energy through guiding when already depleted was no different from suicide, and Jaehee kept repeating this.
Yet despite this, the Center wouldn’t give up on Jaehee. They couldn’t lose such a valuable S-class guide.
Eventually, to control Jaehee who wouldn’t stop guiding, they resorted to injecting narcotic drugs. It was a measure taken to save Jaehee, but it only succeeded in keeping his body alive. For Jaehee, it merely presented an even worse nightmare.
“…Geon…woo…”
Unable to control his own body due to the drugs, Jaehee began to hallucinate in that state. The narcotic components should have made him recall happy memories, but all his numerous memories with Geonwoo were overshadowed by that final moment at the gate, leaving nothing else visible.
Only Geonwoo’s final moments filled Jaehee’s mind. The scene continued to be redrawn, becoming ever more vivid, cutting into Jaehee’s heart.
Jaehee had frequent seizures because of this. Unable to bear the repeated visions of Geonwoo’s death, he would barely manage to pull out the IV needle, only for them to insert it again. Then his wrist, the back of his hand. Countless needle marks were left on Jaehee’s arms.
These repeated processes further destroyed Jaehee. His drug-addled body remained frozen in the day Geonwoo died.
“Is this really okay?”
Even the medical staff looking after Jaehee couldn’t tell if what they were doing was right. That’s how bad Jaehee’s condition was.
Lying on the bed like a corpse, Jaehee was no longer his former self. Having lost all vitality, he was no different from a living guiding machine.
***
Days passed slowly, one by one. Jaehee was still continuing an unwanted life, denied permission to die.
But that day was a little strange. An emergency alarm rang in the ward.
Jaehee, in his usual drug-induced stupor, opened his eyes at the sudden extreme pain. His vision filled with a world that was nothing but red. Like Geonwoo’s end, he too was staining the ward’s bed and floor red. And through it all, a blurry figure could be seen.
Jaehee knew. The deaths that had been following him, the incidents that had disappeared for a while after Geonwoo died, had started again. And that this was the last one.
In his fading consciousness, a small whisper came to him. Like tinnitus, that whisper repeated in his head. The words telling him not to repeat the same mistake—they pierced him like thorns.
Not long after, screams were heard, and urgent voices mixed among them.
“Prepare for surgery immediately! Call all the healing-type espers!”
But Jaehee’s consciousness was already gone.
