“What! What what what! What did you say! What did you just say!”
Guide Center Director Yoon Palsik bellowed at the top of his lungs. He grabbed the Center employee who had come sprinting in to report by the collar. The employee, pale enough to make a ghost seem rosy, rattled off words like a rapper possessed.
“Team Leader Yoon, who had been guiding Esper Kwon Dajung, suddenly fainted, and Esper Kwon Dajung, startled by this, picked Team Leader Yoon up and rushed straight to the hospital, where he was admitted and examined, and then just now — Esper Kwon Dajung, alone, departed from the hospital and is on his way here!!”
His voice cracked sharply at the crescendo. Yoon Palsik was already grabbing his phone and wallet before the employee had even finished. He kicked the Center Director’s office door open and bolted. Not looking back once, Yoon Palsik fled with wildly darting eyes. He was naturally worried about Yoon Gyujin’s health after collapsing so suddenly — but before any of that, he needed to survive first.
Why else would Kwon Dajung leave an ailing Yoon Gyujin behind to come here? Yoon Palsik could have stood on his head, spun in circles, and still gotten that answer right. He was coming to add one more person to the hospital alongside Kwon Dajung. That guy was more than capable of exactly that.
On top of everything else, he had just a short while ago rejected both the resignation letter and the leave of absence that Gyujin had submitted. A few hours before that, he’d contacted the doctor to discuss Gyujin’s “particular situation,” and while he was at it, had adjusted Gyujin’s work schedule too. Tallying up the storm of events, Palsik could think of at least five reasons why Kwon Dajung would be furious. Already at his wit’s end, and now Yoon Gyujin had gone and fainted on top of it — of course that lunatic had snapped.
Cold sweat kept trickling down his face. First priority: run. Figure out the details after. As Yoon Palsik was making his way toward the elevator, the emergency stairwell caught his eye. He changed course toward it. An enclosed space with only one direction to go seemed far less appealing than a stairwell where he could bolt either up or down.
The moment he pushed the door open, footsteps echoed from the stairwell.
He knew instinctively. Kwon Dajung. Drained of all color, Yoon Palsik stumbled backward. The Center employee who had tagged along involuntarily let out a hiccup. Both of them thought the exact same thing at the exact same moment.
We’re screwed.
Without a word between them, they bolted for the elevator. With trembling hands they hammered the button repeatedly. The elevator arrived from a lower floor and the doors slid wide open. Both men brightened and lunged forward.
But before their feet could even touch the floor inside, they froze solid, as though turned to stone.
Everything stopped, mid-breath, mid-motion. They couldn’t even blink — standing there stiffly suspended — as unhurried footsteps approached from behind.
“Where are you both off to in such a rush?”
A gentle voice inquired pleasantly. But that soft tone was nothing more than camouflage. Yoon Palsik had seen far too much to be taken in by that kind of facade.
In an instant, the force pinning his body released, and he crumpled to the ground in a heap. Even within the Guide Center, where the use of abilities was in principle prohibited, Kwon Dajung used his without a second thought. He smiled pleasantly and walked toward them.
“Or is this your way of welcoming me?”
“D-Dajung! Esper! Wh-what brings you h-here!”
His voice cracked on the “here,” flipping into a higher register. Clearing his throat with a couple of awkward coughs, Yoon Palsik forced the corners of his mouth upward.
“I was actually just heading out — I have something urgent, ahem — but what brings you looking for me?”
He played dumb with the question, but his eyes betrayed him with a fine tremor. Kwon Dajung was smiling prettily, as always. He advanced with an unhurried step.
“What’s going on with Yoon Gyujin?”
“Hmm…? Gyujin? What do you mean, what’s going on? I’m not quite sure what you’re referring to…”
“Don’t play dumb. Is Yoon Gyujin sick? Is that what all this resignation business was about?”
His instincts were uncanny. Even without being told anything, Kwon Dajung had already closed in on the core of the matter. His suspicion wasn’t fundamentally wrong. Yoon Gyujin had gotten pregnant because of guiding addiction — so of course guiding would make him collapse. There was a far more complicated explanation the doctor had given, but this was not the time to get into all that.
“Well… I’m not sure I know anything about that…”
“You do know exactly what’s wrong with him and how, don’t you, Director? What is it? Why is this happening? What the hell is he sick with that makes a person just suddenly faint?”
The madness in his eyes intensified by degrees. With every degree it rose, cold sweat pooled further in Yoon Palsik’s palms.
“D-Dajung, Esper — just calm down a little—”
“Yoon Gyujin is sick and you want me to calm down? You clearly know exactly what’s wrong with him and how. If you have a mouth you’d better use it to talk. Don’t drive me out of my mind.”
Crude words came spilling out one after another. As his language grew rougher, Yoon Palsik pleaded desperately for him to calm down.
“Gyujin, he — g-guiding addiction! That’s what this is about. But it’s — it’s not severe, it’s only showing a few mild symptoms, alright? So the doctor said he shouldn’t guide for the time being, I went with Gyujin to the hospital not long ago for the appointment — GYAAAH!”
The lights and the outer corridor wall contorted in an instant. As though an invisible giant had gone on a rampage, debris tore away and scattered through the air like a blizzard. Kwon Dajung, who had reduced the hallway to wreckage without so much as lifting a finger, let out a short derisive laugh.
“Guiding addiction?”
Crouched down with the Center employee, Yoon Palsik let out a shriek. One wrong move and a chunk of concrete to the skull would be the end of him. Not from a gate, not on a mission — dying because of Kwon Dajung. Would that even count as a workplace accident?
“Dajung, Esper, please — can we talk this out, with words! Words! Come on!”
“Yoon Gyujin has guiding addiction?”
Kwon Dajung had already gone somewhere else entirely. His eyes had lost their focus. Concrete fragments scattered with terrifying force according to his will.
Guiding addiction was the most common occupational disease among guides and also the most devastating — a type of overuse syndrome. It was known to develop after guiding for extended periods, or after repeated guiding sessions with an Esper of a mismatched rank, and was considered effectively incurable.
There was no specific treatment for guiding addiction beyond stopping all guiding. Once symptoms appeared they rarely improved, and since guides experienced pain every time they guided, any guide who developed it would follow the path to retirement, willingly or not. It didn’t stop at simple pain — fainting or even dying from shock were frequent occurrences — so ceasing to guide was the only way to survive.
The fact that Yoon Gyujin had fainted while guiding, and that he had suddenly declared he was quitting — when viewed through the lens of guiding addiction, it all made sense.
Yoon Gyujin had guiding addiction.
And yet. He had not refused Kwon Dajung’s request to be guided.
“Son of a…”
The profanity boiled up from somewhere deep in his gut.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Why the hell didn’t he just say that and kept on guiding anyway — this insane person.”
Yoon Gyujin had a truly extraordinary talent for driving people out of their minds. How else could someone behave like this?
The concrete fragments that had been flying furiously came to an abrupt stop. The pieces clattered to the floor, sending up plumes of dust. Kwon Dajung twisted his lips with irritable displeasure.
“Yoon Gyujin is on medical leave for the time being. Don’t look for him.”
He announced this as though he were the one in charge, then spun on his heel and walked away.
“That personality-devoid little son of a…”
He does the damage and just leaves? Yoon Palsik whimpered as he surveyed the wreckage of the Center building.
“Sob… the life I lead…!”
“I absolutely hate kids.”
Kwon Dajung, sitting in the living room watching a parenting program on TV, suddenly made this declaration. The expression on his face as he chewed his popcorn made it abundantly clear that he did, in fact, absolutely hate them.
“They whine, they’re loud, they think they’re the center of the universe, and they’re selfish and have zero manners.”
Gyujin half-listened to the ongoing litany of “reasons I hate kids” and took a sip of his cola. After a brief silence, he tilted his head.
“Is that by any chance your own self-introduction?”
“Want to die?”
Kwon Dajung scooped up a handful of popcorn and flung it at him like a salt shower, eyes narrowing dangerously. Gyujin picked up the pieces that had landed around him and munched on them.
“I mean, it fits. That’s basically you. Whiny, loud, self-centered, and selfish.”
“This hyung insults people so thoroughly without a single curse word.”
“Sorry if that hurt.”
“Saying sorry with your mouth means nothing. It’s written all over your face that you’re not sorry in the slightest.”
How did he catch that. Gyujin clicked his tongue. Kwon Dajung inched closer and lay down with his head on Gyujin’s thigh. Half-listening to the sound of children laughing on the TV, he grumbled on.
“…I’ve gotten nicer lately, though. You know full well I actually listen to what you say, and you’re still doing this.”
“That’s true. You’ve become a decent person, Dajung.”
Even until the year before last, he had never once imagined he’d be sitting around like this with Kwon Dajung. No matter what Gyujin said, Kwon Dajung would twist it mercilessly, and when Gyujin pointed at the moon, instead of looking at the moon, Dajung would respond with threats to break the finger pointing at it. Compared to back then, he was practically a lamb now.
Without taking his eyes off the TV, Gyujin stroked Dajung’s hair. Dajung enjoyed the touch for a long while in silence, then gently took hold of Gyujin’s wrist.
“So, hyung. Since I’ve been listening well lately and I’ve become a decent person sooo…”
Kwon Dajung let the end of his sentence trail off, tilting his head with his most winning expression. Gyujin couldn’t help laughing at the shameless charm.
“Are you asking for a kiss, or for guiding?”
