“Wha — wha — wha — what?”
“Good grief…. What are you doing.”
Deputy Shin staggered from the shock, and Ha-ram also gaped in stunned disbelief, but Hee-young simply frowned at the water dripping steadily from Deputy Shin’s chin.
“Hee-young, I’m in such a bad state right now, I think I need to, I — that is — I need to go to the hospital. I’m hearing things….”
What is he on about. This is a hospital.
Even under Hee-young’s look of pure exasperation, Deputy Shin couldn’t even wipe his sopping chin as he babbled incoherently. With vacant eyes, hair in total disarray, water running down his chin and soaking into his rumpled suit — he looked like an absolute wreck.
Hee-young, expression full of irritation, snatched the box of tissues from the shelf next to him and chucked it hard. Deputy Shin was apparently in such shock that he stared blankly at the incoming box instead of dodging — and got smacked right in the head with it. Only after the dull impact landed did Deputy Shin let out a yelp and look at Hee-young.
“What, did I say I’d have someone killed? That I want a pair change? I’m just asking to look at the Matching Rates. You can’t even look at a single piece of paper? Fine, fine, I won’t change. I won’t change.”
But if you’re not going to change, then why do you want to see the Matching Rates….
Deputy Shin looked like he was about to cry. Deputy Seong. Deputy Seong, where are you. Come back! Save me….
Facing the crisis of his life, Deputy Shin wracked his brain trying to think of some way to change Hee-young’s mind.
In the first place, there was only ever one reason a Guide who already had a pair would request a list of other Espers with high Matching Rates. They wanted to switch from their current paired Esper to a different one.
Even if they gave some other reason as a cover, the purpose of confirming Matching Rates was clear. To find out whether there was another, better-suited Esper outside of their current one. No one requests it simply to avoid them.
Of course, it was entirely within a Guide’s rights to want or ask to see their Matching Rates with other Espers. Since Hee-young wasn’t demanding an immediate change — just saying he wanted to know which Espers had high Matching Rates with him — they had no grounds to refuse. Deputy Shin had no idea how to handle this situation.
“Did you have a fight with Shin-yul?”
“A fight, at my age, with some kid — don’t be ridiculous! He’s just got no manners! Why does he keep talking back to an adult, seriously?!”
“If Shin-yul finds out about this, I’m dead!”
“Then what, I’m not going to die? If you’re scared, don’t tell him!”
That’s the part that’s impossible…!
Deputy Shin stamped his feet. His head was racing through the Center regulations he’d been made to memorize cold from the moment he started working there.
[Article 47 (Obligation to Notify Regarding Pair Relationship Matters)
① When one party wishes to confirm or change any matter that may affect the maintenance or alteration of the pair relationship — including re-confirmation of Matching Rates, suitability assessments, relationship adjustments, or review of dissolution — the party shall notify the other without delay.]
It was protocol that any matter likely to affect the pair relationship — such as re-examining Matching Rates — be communicated to both parties. This was to prevent a situation where one side had their pair changed without any understanding of what had happened.
Particularly in a case like this one, where it was the Guide making the request, the risk on the Esper’s side was by no means small. Of course, the reverse was also true — the emotional impact on the Guide couldn’t be disregarded — but an Esper faced a literal, physical threat to their life.
On top of that, looking at Hee-young’s attitude, he was grumpy as usual but there was no sign of intense hostility toward Shin-yul or any sense of serious conflict — and given that Shin-yul had been here receiving Guiding until the early hours of the morning before heading to work, this request from Hee-young looked, for all intents and purposes, completely one-sided. It was obvious that Shin-yul not only didn’t know about this situation, he wouldn’t have seen it coming at all. This was exactly the kind of situation the rule had been made for. To prevent the paired Esper from panicking.
Most Espers treat the Guide who fills their void and keeps them alive like something close to a god. An Esper’s love and fixation on their Guide was frightening in its intensity. Bordering on worship, really.
Blindly devoted in a way the average person couldn’t comprehend. If a Guide were to unilaterally abandon their Esper without any compromise or discussion, that love — with nowhere left to go — would turn to madness in an instant.
That was why this rule existed. Before either party broke irreparably — if there was any chance of turning the relationship back, try to. If not, at least prepare yourself. A humane rule, in that sense. Like a mandatory period of reflection before a divorce.
By this rule — and, if he were being honest, more for Shin-yul, who was going to lose his mind — there was no hiding a Matching Rate check between Hee-young and other Espers from him.
Deputy Shin mentally wrote out a full-on melodrama in his head. Hee-young laughing happily as he walked by with some new Esper, while Shin-yul crumpled in tears behind them with his hand clamped over his mouth. Or wait — would he just beat that new Esper to a pulp and get hauled away? Either way, it was a tragedy.
Hee-young, having absolutely no idea what was going on inside Deputy Shin’s head, just stared at the man pulling at his own hair with pure annoyance.
What, is looking at Matching Rates that much of a problem? Is it too expensive or something?
Without thinking, Hee-young glanced over at Ha-ram. His personal encyclopedia — the moment Ha-ram felt Hee-young’s eyes on him, he laughed awkwardly.
“Ah, um, well, I mean, you see… viewing Matching Rates with another Esper is… the same as saying you want to change your paired Esper. Even if you say you have no intention of changing right now, the Center and your paired Esper still have to treat it as that possibility. Because if you truly had no intention of changing… you wouldn’t really be curious about your Matching Rates with other Espers either….”
“…….”
What’s the big deal about Matching Rates. Am I seriously going to swap out the kid who waits on me for some stranger’s face just because of one number? Honestly, the people of this world make no sense to me.
Even as he grumbled to himself internally, Hee-young said nothing out loud. Because he wanted it to appear exactly that way — that he was considering switching Espers. He’d said out loud that he wasn’t going to change, but he knew perfectly well that the act of wanting to look at Matching Rates with other Espers could create a certain sense of threat. He knew it.
Hee-young understood all too well that threatening Shin-yul over whether or not he’d Guide him — that sort of thing didn’t work. He’d already failed once.
Then what if he threatened him from a completely different angle? What if he used as leverage that desperate, pleading way Shin-yul had begged not to be abandoned?
Hee-young was, at the end of the day, an irredeemable gangster by nature. He wavered somewhere in the grey area between having morals and not, but given the life he’d led, seizing someone’s weakness and wielding it against them came far more naturally to him than ordinary conversation or compromise.
Hee-young didn’t let his earlier failure discourage him. Some people had a sturdier core than expected — no matter how much you tried to crush and bend them, they didn’t break easily. Shin-yul hadn’t even wobbled, let alone cracked, so he was worse than any of them.
That was why Hee-young had gone looking for another method. The voice that had trembled asking are you going to abandon me? A young beast that had laid its most vulnerable part bare without a filter, just for one moment. What he feared most was Hee-young leaving his side.
If you lay your own weak point at someone’s feet, it’s only natural they’ll go for it. That was Hee-young’s ironclad rule.
Hee-young was planning to exploit his fear. If one threat didn’t work, you find one that did. If violence didn’t work, you found something that scared them even more.
Hee-young was certain. He could control Shin-yul with a Matching Rate chart. Every time something disagreeable happened from here on out, he planned to shove the Matching Rate chart in his face — to explain in precise detail why Shin-yul needed to grovel at his feet and exactly what happened when he tried to be clever. The thought of that slick, smirking bastard whimpering like a scolded dog made Hee-young smile in spite of himself.
Even after Ha-ram’s explanation, Hee-young gave no answer, just sitting there with that ominous smile on his face — Deputy Shin let out a sigh so heavy it could have sunk the floor. It didn’t look like he was going to change his mind, and the request itself — not even a meeting with a high-Matching-Rate Esper, just the data — was something that could reasonably be granted. Even if it meant risking his own neck when he had to tell Shin-yul about it….
“I — for now… I’ll file a report with my superiors.”
“Right. So, uh — do they draw blood at a lab or something for that?”
“Ah — no. It’s already….”
Deputy Shin started to answer that there was already a list compiled, then snapped his mouth shut. Because a Manifested Guide’s Matching Rates with all Espers were confirmed the moment they appeared, and the Espers with the highest Matching Rates were then filtered out from those records, so the data existed. All he had to do was request the file be sent over and print it — yet Deputy Shin rolled his eyes around, wondering if he could buy even a little time and somehow talk Hee-young out of it.
“Already? You already have it? Then give it to me.”
“W — the data on Hee-young is already on file, but the matching still needs to be re-run. You don’t need to have blood drawn again.”
Ha-ram’s eyes went wide at Deputy Shin’s words, but Deputy Shin, looking like he might burst into tears at any moment, used the diagonal angle out of Hee-young’s line of sight to frantically press his palms together in silent prayer. Ha-ram stared at Deputy Shin’s desperately pleading hands with wavering eyes. God…. Why do these people keep putting me in impossible positions. Ha-ram exhaled a small sigh and said:
“We should be able to get it to you soon enough. It doesn’t take long, right?”
“Wha — ? Oh! Yes! Sure! Right! I’ll go take care of it right now!”
At Deputy Shin’s flustered stammering, Hee-young clicked his tongue and settled back comfortably.
“Why does that guy get more useless the longer I know him? Good grief. Go on, then.”
Having dumped a figurative boulder on Deputy Shin’s heart, Hee-young smiled with relief. Deputy Shin stared at him with raw resentment, desperately trying to hold back his welling tears. But in the end, eyes glistening with unshed tears, he shot Hee-young one last resentful look — then shouted You don’t know anything, Hee-young! and swept out of the hospital room with arms flailing in an exaggerated flourish, like the lead of a shōjo manga.
Deputy Shin, with that miserable expression on his face, made it to the first floor of the hospital and frantically called Deputy Seong. Deputy Seong, I know you’re busy, but please — just save me this once…! I’ll do whatever you say!
Eyes squeezed shut, Deputy Shin dialed Deputy Seong’s number — and right beside him, heard the ringtone Deputy Seong used, a tinkling xylophone melody, and his eyes flew wide open.
“Oh — Deputy Seong…!”
Deputy Shin’s face flooded with emotion as he looked at him. You came to save me……!
The face looking back at him was twisted into an expression like he’d bitten into something rotten.
“Hey, Deputy Shin. We’re just totally screwed.”
No — I got caught too.
