# Chapter 32
“Fuck. I’ve got plenty of charm! I mean, most Guides aren’t like that!”
“Most doesn’t mean all. What others do with their lives is none of my business.”
It was just when Sangjun had lost all motivation to continue conversing with Junseo, running his hand down his face.
Knock, knock.
There was a light knocking on the Director’s office door. Was anyone scheduled to visit the Director’s office today, located at the very top of the Guide Management building? Moreover, Director Park was away from his desk, being called here and there due to the aftermath of that damned general meeting. Sangjun tilted his head, recalling the reason he could chat so freely with Junseo in the Director’s office as if it were his own home.
Soon came the sound of the door opening. Thanks to his sensitive senses, Sangjun easily heard someone muttering to themselves.
“So it’s true that there’s space in the Director’s office.”
Shortly after, a neatly dressed man appeared behind the open door and was about to enter when he spotted Sangjun and paused momentarily. Wearing the signature black combat uniform unique to Espers and smiling slightly, his expression briefly stiffened in surprise, magically transforming his moderately gentle impression into something chillingly cold.
Strangely familiar. While Sangjun hesitated, trying to grasp at the vague memory, the man saluted him. Even with such a slight movement, his well-proportioned, predator-like body traced an elegant line.
“Hello, Esper Ji Sangjun-nim.”
As he came a bit closer, Sangjun’s ambiguous memory finally became clear. He was an Esper who had once hunted a monster that escaped from a dungeon together with Sangjun. Though it had been long ago, his impression wasn’t easy to forget, so it must have remained in the depths of Sangjun’s memory. As Sangjun smiled lightly, waiting for the man to state his name and rank—
“Hyung!”
Sangjun nearly coughed his eyes out.
Junseo had quickly approached the man and started smiling adorably with aegyo. Hyung? The little shit who had been drooping like a dead sea anemone until just now—what was with that eye-smile? It was an expression that seemed almost like he was trying to be coy. Unwillingly witnessing this expression head-on, Sangjun rubbed his eyes. Suddenly, as if the world had been turned upside down, his head spun from the shock that penetrated his entire body. His brain went haywire, unable to process the information his visual cells were feeding it.
“I apologize. I thought you were alone, Guide Yu Junseo-nim.”
“I was alone when you called, hyung. This person suddenly came barging in rudely… I’ll be leaving soon.”
Only then did Sangjun realize what Junseo had been innocently insisting all along about “putting on a face.” Junseo, who was sprinkling enough smiles mixed with flowers to compose an entire royal garden, gave Sangjun a look.
In normal circumstances, Sangjun would have perfectly understood it meant “get out now,” but having half-lost his soul to this strange sight, he just stood there frowning.
“If you were in the middle of an important conversation, you needn’t stop on my account.”
“Hyung, why do you keep using formal speech? I’m really hurt. It’s already sad that my partner application forms are still pending… Ah! Since you’re here, would you mind signing the consent form again?”
A voice delicate beyond compare fluttered in the air. With the end of his sentences strangely drawn out to the point of aegyo, Sangjun felt as if someone was pounding his soul with a hammer, leaving him completely bewildered. He couldn’t believe someone who had already devoured twenty-four years of life could be so utterly shameless.
“Partner? That A-class?”
Thinking he was just being cute with some small support-type Esper, Sangjun had never imagined it would be a combat-type male Esper with such a decent build. Following Junseo, Sangjun whispered quietly, but Junseo completely ignored him and just smiled brightly.
“By the way, your shirt yesterday was sexy, but combat uniforms really suit you best. Are you going out on field duty today?”
If it were Sangjun being addressed in such a manner by Yu Junseo, he wouldn’t be able to stand it for the goosebumps. Yet this Esper casually treated him like a four-year-old child, whispering softly and coaxing him. Though his voice was extremely quiet, as if aware that Sangjun was in the same space, Sangjun suffered internal injuries again thanks to his excellent sensory organs as an S-class Esper.
“Junseo, we’re at headquarters now, and we have a guest. Be good, okay?”
When one person was acting out of line, at least the other should maintain their sanity, but it seemed like both of them had lost their minds.
Watching the two being all friendly as if they didn’t care whether Sangjun existed or not, reality felt like a bad nightmare. But Sangjun’s dumbfounded rigidity in this unbelievable situation didn’t last long.
“What is this?”
“Oh, an Esper control device. I’ll just show you how to wear it and use it, then I’ll go.”
In a nonchalant voice, as if he were explaining how to boil ramen, only Sangjun widened his eyes in disbelief, wondering if his ears were deceiving him. Junseo was looking down at the black band the man had offered with an innocently pure face, as if he didn’t understand what the Esper was talking about.
Sangjun hurriedly approached them.
“Excuse me. Did you say an Esper control device?”
It was even more certain up close. It was undoubtedly an Esper control device made from processed dungeon byproducts.
“Yes. I requested it specially and received it.”
He still responded in a plain tone, and Sangjun speculated that this unnamed A-class must have either gone crazy after hanging around Yu Junseo, or was undoubtedly seeking help from him through non-verbal expressions under serious threats.
“Am I misunderstanding something? I thought you two weren’t partners yet.”
“Ji Sangjun.”
Junseo briefly called out to Sangjun, but Sangjun was more concerned about that poor Esper. Sangjun stepped forward, as if shielding Junseo, and looked at the man before him. Despite his reddish-brown, messy hair that should have made him appear rough, the man’s neatly positioned dark eyebrows and sharp eyes gave him a strangely reliable impression as he looked directly at Sangjun.
“You’re aware that giving control devices to Guiding partners isn’t even legally mandatory right now, right?”
“Yes.”
“Which means you know there’s absolutely no reason to give a control device to Yu Junseo?”
“I’m aware.”
Tapping the stone bridge before crossing it, Sangjun tapped once more and reached his conclusion. He was definitely secretly asking for help.
The back of his head prickled. Junseo must be glaring at him. Despite Junseo giving him looks as if asking why he wasn’t leaving and interrupting their private time, Sangjun couldn’t ignore this poor Esper who was trying to walk into the gates of hell on his own. It was Esper solidarity.
“Excuse me, but could you tell me your name?”
“I apologize for the delay. A-class Esper Choi Dohyuk.”
To be precise, it wasn’t Dohyuk’s fault. Just as he was about to state his name and rank, Junseo had rushed over wagging his tail like a dog welcoming its runaway owner, which left even Sangjun so startled that he’d forgotten.
“Alright, Esper Choi Dohyuk.”
Sangjun quickly moved close to Dohyuk and whispered in his ear.
“If you’re being threatened, raise your pinky finger. I’ll help you as much as I can.”
“…Excuse me?”
He had expected Dohyuk to immediately raise his pinky finger, even waving it around, requesting rescue, but Dohyuk just stared at Sangjun with an expression that showed he couldn’t understand the situation. It was fascinating to see his frozen, expressionless face break so easily. Right now, Dohyuk was openly wearing a perplexed expression.
“What are you doing?”
Just as the frustrated Sangjun was about to put his lips to Dohyuk’s ear again, his nape was grabbed. Junseo, who had seized him and pulled him away to create distance from Dohyuk, frowned.
“What am I doing? Yu Junseo, do you even know what a control device is?”
As if he hadn’t really intended to resist, Sangjun was pulled along, turning back to ask Junseo but then hesitated. Why are his eyes rolling like that? As he was inwardly grumbling for just a moment, Sangjun realized why Junseo’s eyes had gone wild and voluntarily moved further away from Dohyuk. Only then did Junseo’s frown ease slightly, and Sangjun was left speechless. With his will to converse with Junseo reaching negative levels, Sangjun turned his gaze to Dohyuk. Sangjun continued to signal to him with his eyes, offering a final escape route.
“If it’s not a threat, then why on earth are you giving a control device to someone else?”
More precisely, he wanted to ask, “What the hell do you see in that perverted bastard to just hand over your leash?” but Sangjun valued his life a bit more, so he held back.
Giving an Esper control device to a Guide was insane behavior that only occasionally appeared as material for dramas. Esper control devices had emerged because of the damn Guide Protection Law, ultimately created as a showpiece policy with absolutely no practical utility, meant to emphasize that Guides could stand equally shoulder to shoulder with Espers.
Should one call it a crude measure born to suppress the human rights groups’ protest that Guides bore a greater risk when forming partnerships? This control device synced with the choker-type control apparatus worn by the relevant Esper under the headquarters’ approval, which meant that the device owner could, at will, reduce an Esper to a near-death state.
