# Chapter 34
There was no need to sneer.
Soon, he would be in the same predicament. The only thing keeping him from being dragged into the abyss right now was the icy chill of a glacier coursing through his body, holding him back.
But strangely, at certain moments, his vision cleared, becoming vivid and bright.
Amid the panorama of his life flashing before his eyes, an unfamiliar warmth—comforting and gentle—seeped in for the first time. Like a sailboat navigating toward safe harbor, Yeo Dowoon began to cut through the magma, clinging to that single thread of hope. The thick layer of ice clinging to his skin protected him from melting in the flames.
Boom! Crash! Bang! Bang!
As the ground-type dungeon collapsed, Dowoon burst out of it, charging forward at an inhuman speed.
But… toward what?
<…Guide?>
To an Esper who had just awakened to their S-class abilities, an S-class Guide was nothing short of a hallucinogenic drug—intoxicating with their voice and touch.
Dowoon didn’t care how the person beneath him begged or pleaded. He didn’t even hear them.
<…Guide.>
The truth was, he couldn’t hear anything. He couldn’t see properly, either.
The sheet music Cha Haseong had been holding was torn to shreds, scattering everywhere. Dowoon, his body a grotesque, half-melted mess, pinned the Guide beneath him. When Haseong began to struggle violently in terror, Dowoon grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back.
<My Guide…>
Even as desperate screams and the scent of blood filled the air, Dowoon only muttered absentmindedly, his hollow eyes fixed on Haseong’s hand—the long, beautiful fingers he had always hidden, desperate to avoid any contact with Dowoon.
If I just break this, you’ll obey me and Guide me properly.
As he gripped Haseong’s wrist, Kwon Jeonghoo swiftly restrained Dowoon’s limbs. Dowoon thrashed, sobbing and begging.
“Kill me, please kill me… Captain, please.”
“…Kill me.”
It was just like before.
After the Guiding—no different from predation—Dowoon had been taken to the hospital by the suppression team. The moment he opened his eyes, he demanded punishment for himself.
Unfazed by Dowoon’s burn-scarred face, Jeonghoo had covered his eyes and said,
“Dowoon.”
“Yeo Dowoon, you—”
“Let go! Fuck, ah… hngh…”
“No matter what happens, I’ll take responsibility.”
Just like this moment.
“Someone will take responsibility for you.”
“Hah… hngh…”
“You need to know there’s someone who will step up for you.”
“…Forget and live on.”
Jeonghoo attempted a mental resonance, as if to shoulder Dowoon’s pain, sorrow, and murderous intent. Even as the psychic waves of S-class Espers clashed, sending waves of agony through him, he never flinched.
***
When Dowoon first appeared as an Esper, his fame had been so overwhelming that his name, Yeo Dowoon, had flooded every portal site. Now, his face was swollen worse than a pale steamed bun.
Kwon Jeonghoo, who had woken up early to brew coffee, pointed at the mug as Dowoon stumbled out, groggy as a drunkard nursing a hangover.
“Drink it and sober up,” he said indifferently.
“…Did I sleep here last night?”
“You didn’t sleep. You thrashed around like a madman.”
Jeonghoo had spent less than three hours asleep, trying to stop Dowoon from his rampage—Dowoon, who had been screaming about breaking his own hands.
Dowoon’s disheveled clothes hinted at his terrible condition. He lowered his swollen eyelids and asked,
“By any chance…”
His voice cracked, rough and metallic.
“Did I hit you, Captain?”
Perhaps it was the dried blood on Jeonghoo’s lips that made this guess feel more certain. To Dowoon, this was just one more reason to cut off his own hand.
But Jeonghoo ignored him with a shrug, gesturing to the chair in front of him. Dowoon pulled it out and sat down without further protest.
A heavy silence settled between them.
Dowoon hesitated dozens of times before finally opening his mouth. Jeonghoo explained blandly,
“You wouldn’t let go, so this happened.”
“What?”
“My lips. You sucked on them all night.”
Dowoon had grown so strong that Jeonghoo’s mental resonance no longer worked on him. To keep him subdued, Jeonghoo had to use more unconventional methods.
At first, he considered knocking Dowoon out by striking a vital point, but Dowoon’s physical abilities were too formidable. Restraining him was no easy task. Then it occurred to him: if Dowoon was already out of control, indulging his primal instincts might be the easiest way to calm him down.
“Hurry… hurry up.”
Jeonghoo skillfully diverted Dowoon’s attention, even as Dowoon wrapped his legs around his waist. He sweated profusely, his clothes soaked, to keep from losing control.
“Hurt me…”
Dowoon turned away, unable to find the words. He wasn’t entirely clueless about what had happened at dawn, either. He remembered clinging to Jeonghoo, kissing him like an animal, desperate for anything—anyone—to numb his pain.
Dowoon apologized, his voice barely a whisper.
“I’m sorr—”
“Enough.”
The rejection was immediate. Jeonghoo tapped his watch, as if to say he was running late. Only then did Dowoon realize Jeonghoo was already dressed to leave. He glanced down at himself—still wearing the same clothes from the night before, reeking faintly of alcohol.
Dowoon muttered, half in greeting, half in dismissal,
“I’ll stop by home before heading to work. You go ahead.”
But Jeonghoo replied coolly,
“Go in there, pick out something that fits, and put it on. You can shower at work.”
“You want me to spread rumors that I slept with the Captain?”
Dowoon yanked at his T-shirt collar, exposing the vivid marks on his neck from the night before. Jeonghoo just watched him, sipping his Americano.
“When did you ever sleep with me?”
Dowoon looked at him as if the answer were obvious.
“Anyone who sees me like this will think that.”
“It’s not impossible they’d think it was someone else.”
“Aren’t we riding to work together?”
“…”
“It’s cliché. Sleeping together, showering together, eating together, going to work together. I don’t want to be misunderstood.”
It was almost laughable—this was the same man who had begged for skin contact in bed. But Jeonghoo let it slide. After all, Dowoon was his subordinate, and he was his superior.
“That does make sense.”
But Jeonghoo wasn’t done yet. He threw a sharp question at him.
“If you’re alone with Cha Haseong, can you stay as composed as you are now in front of me?”
It wasn’t so much a threat as it was a question meant to make Dowoon think for himself.
Dowoon quickly sorted through his tangled thoughts.
“I… I’m not sure yet.”
Cha Haseong was an S-class Guide assigned to the base. Even if he wasn’t as extreme as Dowoon, he was still bound by a contract far longer and more complex than any ordinary office worker. Dowoon added coldly,
“Should I tell him directly, or write a letter? I want to break my own hand and present it to him, but maybe giving him the chance to break it himself would be better.”
“…”
“Which option appeals to you more, Captain?”
None of the four options seemed to satisfy Jeonghoo. In fact, he doubted Haseong would find any of them acceptable. He gave Dowoon blunt advice.
“Not everyone prefers extreme solutions like you do.”
Dowoon asked anxiously,
“Then how should I apologize?”
“Do you even have a reason to apologize?”
“Because I—”
Jeonghoo cut him off, his voice weary.
“Like it or not, he’s tied to you by contract. If he finds out he was treated badly by his contracted partner… Cha Haseong won’t stay as calm as he is now.”
“…”
“If you think it’s better to bury it, then bury it.”
“…”
“Unless there’s someone who benefits from knowing, there’s no point in digging up pain for both of you. Don’t stir up unnecessary resentment.”
His words cut deep, but Dowoon responded surprisingly calmly.
“I deserve to be resented. I don’t want to hide like a coward just because I’m scared. If he tells me to die…”
“…You idiot.”
“I will.”
