8.

“Esper Kang I-won.”

At the sound of Heo Do-gyeong’s voice from behind, Kang I-won flinched and immediately turned around. Heo Do-gyeong was watching him with a faint smirk tugging at one corner of his lips.

As their eyes met, Kang I-won panicked and quickly looked away. He couldn’t meet Heo Do-gyeong’s gaze. Yesterday’s incident flashed through his mind.

‘I think I can do even more. Wanna find out?’

That low whisper, spoken so close, along with the touch that had slid down from his side, over his hip, and stopped at his thigh—everything replayed vividly in his head.

Even just remembering it made Kang I-won’s face, which had been pale, flush a bright red. Seeing that, Heo Do-gyeong let out a soft chuckle.

“So, have you thought about it?”

Thought about it? Not even close. It was ridiculous to even consider. Kang I-won briefly wondered if he could escape this awkward situation, but it was pointless.

Heo Do-gyeong was Team 5’s temporary Guide, and also their on-site Guide. No matter how much he tried to avoid him, they had to face each other during missions.

It would be better to put an end to this properly. He just needed to say what he couldn’t yesterday. Once he told Heo Do-gyeong the truth, all this talk about imprinting would surely disappear.

He’d have to say it soon anyway. Once the retesting results came out, he wouldn’t be able to hide it even if he wanted to.

“Well…”

But strangely, the words caught in his throat and wouldn’t come out. He had to say that his powers were fading, so he couldn’t imprint—but the words just wouldn’t form.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?”

Forcing himself, Kang I-won managed to squeeze out a cliché excuse instead of the truth.

“…It’s not even something to think about. It’s just nonsense. An S-rank imprinting with an A-rank, and barely a regeneration Esper at that.”

“So what? If I want to, I will.”

Heo Do-gyeong’s casual response left him feeling drained. Heo Do-gyeong continued speaking.

“And why is it nonsense? You said yourself you like my guiding, right?”

At that, Kang I-won stared at him in disbelief.

“Do you ask everyone who likes your guiding to imprint with you?”

Heo Do-gyeong frowned deeply at that.

“Do you think I’m crazy? I’m only saying this because it’s you, Kang I-won. I told you—I like you.”

The effortless confession made Kang I-won flush all the way to his neck. He quickly looked around. Thankfully, no one else was nearby.

“Hey, you can’t just say things like that here…”

“What’s the big deal? It’s not like I asked you to imprint.”

That shameless reply made Kang I-won rub his forehead. Since the truth still wouldn’t come out, he grasped for another excuse, trying to reason with Heo Do-gyeong.

“As you know, once an imprint is formed, it doesn’t break unless the Esper or the Guide dies.”

The most common reason for an imprint to break was one party dying. It was rare, but there were other cases.

One of them was when the Esper lost their abilities.

So even if it wasn’t due to his death, the imprint would break eventually. An imprint with Heo Do-gyeong was impossible from the start.

All he needed to do was say that. Then all this back-and-forth would end. Yet, for some reason, only different words kept coming out. With a sigh, Kang I-won continued.

“You’re tied to someone for life.”

At that, Heo Do-gyeong smiled as if satisfied and nodded. Kang I-won, looking at him with distaste, spoke again.

“You’re still young, Heo Do-gyeong. Too young to be tied down to one person.”

Heo Do-gyeong was the same age as his younger sibling. Even if Kang I-won hadn’t been losing his powers, he would’ve made the same choice.

Heo Do-gyeong was far too valuable to be tied to someone as insignificant as him. He was an S-rank Guide, no less.

He should be treated better, be valued more.

“You’ll meet a much better Esper than me. It’s just that you haven’t met enough others yet.”

Heo Do-gyeong scoffed at Kang I-won’s words.

“Other Espers? I’ve met plenty. More than enough to be sick of them. Seoul Center is crawling with Espers—how could I not run into them? If anything, there are more of them there than here. And from what I’ve seen, forget about finding a decent one. They’re all just idiots.”

Heo Do-gyeong didn’t bother hiding his sneer as he harshly criticized the Espers from Seoul. His rant continued.

“And do you think I suggested imprinting because you’re some skilled and wonderful Esper, Kang I-won? Don’t flatter yourself. I don’t think anyone’s ever gotten under my skin the way you do.”

“Then why….”

“How many times do I have to say it before it gets through your head? I like you, Kang I-won. I want to imprint because I like you!”

The confession hit him like a wave—impossible to stay grounded through it.

He liked him? That couldn’t be right. It had to be a misunderstanding. And if not, it was nothing more than a fleeting emotion.

Powerful experiences from childhood leave marks that don’t fade. Even if they’re erased from memory, they linger in the subconscious, influencing thoughts and actions.

And when the memories aren’t erased? It’s worse. The emotions remain sharp, raw. You end up affected before you even realize it.

It was the same for Heo Do-gyeong. His obsession, the belief that he liked Kang I-won—it all stemmed from past wounds.

“That’s what I’m saying—it’s just a misunderstanding. You, Guide Heo Do-gyeong, it’s just that…”

Was it okay to say this? He hesitated for a moment, but then continued, carefully.

“My attitude… reminded you of your mother….”

“I told you already, didn’t I? That’s not it. If I’d known you’d twist it like this, I wouldn’t have said anything.”

Heo Do-gyeong grimaced like he was sick of it all.

“And do you think I’m a kid or something? Like I can’t tell what I’m feeling?”

From Kang I-won’s perspective, Heo Do-gyeong was still young.

Maybe it was frustrating for Heo Do-gyeong, but Kang I-won just couldn’t believe that he truly liked him.

There was no reason for Heo Do-gyeong to feel that way. Why would he? Had something special even happened between them? No. So why?

“Why do you even like me? There’s no reason to. It’s not like I have any impressive ability, or anything particularly great about me….”

As the self-deprecating words spilled out naturally, Heo Do-gyeong let out a quiet sigh.

“Esper Kang I-won, you do have the ability. I don’t like how you act, but still—you made it to A-rank with just a regeneration skill. Why are you always putting yourself down? And do you really think I like you because of your powers? Honestly, I hate your ability. I hate it to death. The way you push yourself, like your body’s disposable just because you can regenerate—it’s disgusting to watch.”

Heo Do-gyeong looked at Kang I-won, who avoided his gaze, and kept going.

“Most people would jump at the offer I’m giving, and yet you keep rejecting it like it’s some huge offense. I’m not asking you to date me, for god’s sake. I’m just asking to imprint.”

Date? That was way too much. Kang I-won flinched and quickly spoke up.

“You’ll regret it. Not me—you, Guide Heo Do-gyeong.”

“Regret it or not, that’s for me to deal with. All you need to do is nod. I’m practically begging here—don’t tell me you’re really going to keep refusing me.”

Kang I-won hesitated, lips parting and closing again. But then he shut his eyes, and with a voice barely above a whisper—quiet, but firm—he replied.

“…No. I don’t want to. I don’t want to imprint with you, Guide Heo Do-gyeong.”

“Why? Why on earth don’t you want to imprint with me?”

Heo Do-gyeong asked, sounding completely lost. Just as frustrated as he was, so was Kang I-won.

My power is disappearing.

That one sentence would end this whole thing. But Kang I-won couldn’t bring himself to say it. And so, the pointless back-and-forth dragged on, wearing them both down.

Why couldn’t he just say it? He didn’t understand why his mouth clammed shut like a locked shell every time he tried.

Just that one line would resolve everything.

No one would want to imprint with an Esper whose ability was vanishing—Heo Do-gyeong would understand and take back his words. The talk of imprinting would stop, once and for all.

In that moment, Kang I-won’s eyes widened slightly.
He’d finally realized why the words wouldn’t come.

He didn’t want to see Heo Do-gyeong give up so easily, just as he’d expected him to. He didn’t want to hear him say, with that same mouth that once said he liked him and wanted to imprint, that he’d step back quietly.

That thought sparked a short, lingering question: Why?
Even when he asked himself, he couldn’t find an answer.

Kang I-won had spent so long suppressing and ignoring his own emotions. He’d lived by emptying his thoughts and numbing his heart. It was the only way to survive.

That was how he’d made it from the early days of being an Esper up until now. Because of that, facing his own feelings had always been a struggle. He couldn’t easily grasp what he felt, what he wanted, what he was thinking.

Which was exactly why—even now—he couldn’t understand why he didn’t want to see that side of Heo Do-gyeong. Why it bothered him so much.

It was his own heart, and yet it felt impossible to read. All he could do was sigh.

He didn’t know what he truly felt about Heo Do-gyeong. There were vague hunches, but he pushed them away, dismissed them, made excuses. But no matter how hard he searched, no other reason made sense.

Only one thing was certain—
No matter what his feelings for Heo Do-gyeong were, he kept wanting more.

He’d already crossed that line. Because of that desire, he’d started receiving proper Guiding from Heo Do-gyeong. Because of that, he hoped—if only temporarily—that Heo Do-gyeong would stay with Team 5.

He didn’t want to imprint with Heo Do-gyeong. It was something he shouldn’t want. Something impossible anyway.

But still, until his ability was completely gone, he wanted Heo Do-gyeong to stay by his side.
That clash between reality and desire only deepened his confusion.

And in that state of confusion, he couldn’t even open his mouth.

Faced with the ongoing silence, Heo Do-gyeong—unusually anxious—finally asked,

“Is it because you don’t like me?”

“…What?”

Kang I-won blinked, stunned. That question again?

While Kang I-won stared at him in disbelief, Heo Do-gyeong bit down hard on his lip and spoke.

“Everything else you said just sounds like excuses. You don’t have a real reason. So maybe you just… don’t like me? Because I was kind of a jerk in the beginning. Is that it? Are you still mad about that?”

“No… it’s not that.”

Kang I-won denied it right away. Dislike Heo Do-gyeong? No way.

“Then why do you keep rejecting me? If it’s not because you hate me, and if you throw out all those nonsense excuses, what’s left? What reason is there?”

Heo Do-gyeong sounded like he was at his wit’s end.
And seeing him like that only made Kang I-won even more frustrated with himself—because he still couldn’t say anything.

Just do what you’ve always done. Crush your feelings, erase them, forget them. And then do what needs to be done.
It’s something he’d repeated for years—never once had it been hard. He just had to keep doing what he always did.

Once he got his emotions under control, he could tell the truth as calmly as he had with Han Kang-jin.
That his power was disappearing.

That’s all it would take—so why was it impossible to say it in front of Heo Do-gyeong?

Maybe he’d let himself want something for the first time in too long. That moment of desire, unnoticed, had grown unchecked. And by the time he realized it, it had already gotten too big to handle.
Even now, that desire kept growing.

It was too vivid to crush, too loud to erase, too big to forget. It had taken root far too deep.

And it kept crying out—
More. More. More.

He knew he’d have to say it eventually. But not now.
Kang I-won just wanted Heo Do-gyeong to stay by his side as his Guide a little longer. Just a little.

Greed always led to trouble.
But still, the voice of desire whispered: It’s the last time anyway. What harm could it do? There’s not much time left. Nothing will happen.
It kept whispering, persuading him to give in.

The thought of the end made him soft.
And in the end, that softened heart gave in to desire.

After all his hesitation, Kang I-won finally spoke.

“I’m not rejecting you because I don’t like you, Guide Heo Do-gyeong. There’s another reason. But… can I tell you next time? It won’t take long, I promise.”

No matter what, the results would come in by next month. He would tell Heo Do-gyeong before that.

From the look on Kang I-won’s face, Heo Do-gyeong could sense there really was another reason—something he didn’t yet know.
But still, this time, he said he would explain. That alone was something. Heo Do-gyeong let out a quiet sigh and asked, voice softened,

“How long do I have to wait?”

“…I’ll tell you before the end of next month. For sure.”

“Alright. You’d better tell me then.”

Kang I-won gave a slow nod.

* * *

Hyun Ho-jun’s eyes quietly followed Kang I-won.

Kang I-won, who had been charging at the monster over the railing, suddenly pulled back. At the same time, the writhing creature spewed out a cloud of toxic gas. Kang I-won covered his nose and quickly stepped back several more paces.

With a wave of his hand, Hyun Ho-jun summoned flames and burned away the spreading fog of poison. Kang I-won gave him a grateful glance before launching himself at the monster again. The faint smile on Hyun Ho-jun’s face faded into a look of boredom.

Hyun Ho-jun liked Kang I-won’s self-destructive side. It made his heart race. He could probably never forget that moment—when Kang I-won, in tatters, had stood in front of him and blocked the danger.

That battered back, still vivid when he closed his eyes, had burned itself deep into his mind.

Maybe that was why, lately, seeing Kang I-won didn’t stir much in him. He had no interest in people who played it safe like everyone else.

Regretfully, Hyun Ho-jun’s gaze trailed after Kang I-won.

For some reason, Kang I-won had started holding himself back more than usual.

There had been a time in the past when Kang I-won was more cautious, but it had felt different. Back then, it had been instinctive, almost subconscious. Now, it was deliberate—he was choosing to avoid harm.

Even Han Kang-jin, who would usually say something, now just looked slightly frustrated without commenting further. What was going on?

Hyun Ho-jun narrowed his eyes, quietly observing.

Bang!
A gunshot rang out from behind. Hyun Ho-jun turned his head.
Behind him, Heo Do-gyeong crushed a wriggling tentacle on the ground with clear annoyance on his face.

“What are you zoning out for?”

Sliding the monster-slaying gun back into the holster on his thigh, Heo Do-gyeong scolded.

“Ah… I’m sorry.”

Hyun Ho-jun offered an automatic, practiced smile as he apologized. Heo Do-gyeong gave him a displeased look, then turned his attention to Kang I-won. The irritation in his eyes quickly melted away and was replaced by concern—Hyun Ho-jun could clearly see it.

“…Hmph.”

Lately, there was something strange between Heo Do-gyeong and Kang I-won.
Heo Do-gyeong, who remained cold and prickly toward everyone else, grew inexplicably soft around Kang I-won. It wasn’t the first time he treated Kang I-won differently, but lately, it was especially obvious.

Once the monster was dealt with, Heo Do-gyeong immediately rushed over to Kang I-won and asked gently,

“Are you hurt anywhere? Do you need Guiding?”

That kind of question—Heo Do-gyeong only ever asked it to Kang I-won.
“Some of us could use some Guiding too, y’know…” Kim Young-ho muttered under his breath. Hyun Ho-jun chuckled silently.

His gaze, which had been on Heo Do-gyeong, now shifted to Kang I-won.
Sure, Heo Do-gyeong had changed—but more surprisingly, so had Kang I-won.

Not long ago, Kang I-won could barely hide how annoyed and bothered he was by Heo Do-gyeong. Even when the guy worried or tried to help, it just seemed to irritate him.

But at some point, that changed. Kang I-won began to accept Heo Do-gyeong’s attention and concern without resistance.

Just like now.
A faint smile touched Kang I-won’s lips. It wasn’t something he noticed himself—it just naturally appeared as his lips curled slightly while he answered Heo Do-gyeong’s question.

“I’m not hurt. And I don’t need Guiding just yet.”

“If you need anything, say it right away.”

“I will.”

When did it start? It hadn’t been long, but even so, it was hard to pinpoint the exact moment.

The way Kang I-won now spoke with Heo Do-gyeong, face to face—it looked… peaceful. Natural.
It was a version of him that only came out around Heo Do-gyeong.

There was no jealousy.
Because no matter what he did, Hyun Ho-jun knew Kang I-won would never look at him like that.

Kang I-won was still uncomfortable around him.
Hyun Ho-jun had pretended not to notice, had pushed anyway—but it felt like it was time to stop.

The fondness he’d once quietly held had been ripped out before it even had the chance to bloom. It was a bit of a shame, how his feelings never got to grow properly…
But what could he do?
Better to pull them out early than let them fester into something that never had a chance.

Still, not even being given a chance felt like a bit of a shame.
Letting even that small regret drift away, Hyun Ho-jun quietly took in the sight of the two of them with a now-cleared gaze.

Progress between an Esper and a Guide was, for whatever reason, something worth celebrating.
Maybe there’d be something to celebrate soon. Hyun Ho-jun murmured under his breath.

Kim Young-ho, noticing, asked,

“What are you mumbling about?”

“Nothing.”

Hyun Ho-jun shrugged as he replied. Then, casually, he offered a suggestion to someone who’d experienced heartbreak before him.

“Wanna grab a drink after this? Just a little, not too much. My treat.”

“What’s with you all of a sudden?”

“Mm… got my heart broken?”

He spoke in the same laid-back tone as always, and this time it was Kim Young-ho who looked thrown off.

“What?”

“Nothing expensive, though. Let’s do samgyeopsal (grilled pork belly). Or gopchang (beef or pork intestines grilled or stir-fried). Gopchang sounds good.”

“Wait, hold on. Are you saying you liked someone?”

“Yeah… gopchang’s probably better.”

“Hey! Don’t dodge the question—answer me! You liked someone?”

“Haha.”

“No, seriously, when did you even get rejected?! Who was it? Say something, would you?!”

Tuning out Kim Young-ho’s noisy yelling, Hyun Ho-jun let his thoughts trail off.

Even if the feelings he had were shaken off, Kang I-won was still the one who had saved his life—still someone he respected deeply.
That wouldn’t change.
He let go of the fleeting emotions, but left behind that unshakable admiration.

Maybe now, Kang I-won would treat him more comfortably, like he did with Young-ho.
That wouldn’t be so bad, in its own way.

With a small smile, Hyun Ho-jun finally pulled his gaze away from the pair.

* * *

The weather was not just sunny—it was sweltering.
The sharp sunlight bore down hard, making it clear that summer was right around the corner.

Though the special suit worn for safety had been made a little thinner, it was still too heavy for the heat. Heo Do-gyeong, slightly flushed from wearing it, wiped the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief.

In contrast to Heo Do-gyeong, who was thoroughly covered up for safety, Kang I-won wore a loose-fitting white short-sleeved t-shirt. Due to the heat, his usual training jacket was tied around his waist.

The two of them, dressed in complete opposites, were out on patrol. Kang I-won kept sneaking glances at Heo Do-gyeong as they walked side by side.

He’d already resolved to tell him about the loss of his power before the results came out—but the sooner, the better.

It wasn’t just that he had no intention of accepting the imprinting proposal—he literally couldn’t. Keeping silent when such a clear reason existed felt like deceiving Heo Do-gyeong.

Now was a good chance. There was no one else around—just the two of them.
And yet, no words came out. He just kept glancing at Heo Do-gyeong’s profile in silence.

As they walked, Heo Do-gyeong suddenly spoke up.

“Is there something on my face?”

“…Huh?”

“You keep looking.”

“I wasn’t.”

Kang I-won feigned ignorance. Heo Do-gyeong let out a small laugh.
The corners of his lips curled up into a gentle curve, and Kang I-won found himself staring blankly at it for a moment.

In a teasing tone, Heo Do-gyeong said,

“You can just stare openly, you know.”

“I said I wasn’t looking.”

Kang I-won quickly turned his gaze away. A soft laugh trickled into his ears, and he instinctively brushed a hand past them.

“Anyway, it’s a little over two weeks left.”

Two weeks.
The moment he heard that, Kang I-won snapped back to attention and flinched. That was around when the test results would come out. Could he possibly know?
Kang I-won turned to him, unable to hide his surprise.

Seeing his reaction, Heo Do-gyeong added, sounding unimpressed,

“…You didn’t forget, did you? Our dinner plan, I mean.”

“Ah.”

Now that he mentioned it—he had made dinner plans with Heo Do-gyeong, and the date wasn’t far off from when the re-evaluation results were due.
He’d been so focused on the fact that he needed to tell the truth that he’d momentarily forgotten about their promise.

Seeing Kang I-won’s reaction, Heo Do-gyeong looked distinctly disappointed.

“You really did forget, didn’t you?”

“…No. I remember. It’s not far off now.”

Part of him wondered if maybe he could bring it up then—during dinner, in a more relaxed setting.
But something about that didn’t sit right.

So then, when would be the right time to talk?
He held back a sigh just as his device started beeping. A call came through—it was from Kim Young-ho.

His thoughts were cut short. Kang I-won grabbed Heo Do-gyeong and sprinted toward the location of the alert.
A heavy, muggy wind brushed against his cheek as they ran.

By the time they arrived, Han Kang-jin had already engaged a plant-type monster with sharp, gear-like branches. Hyun Ho-jun and Kim Young-ho were assisting him.

Han Kang-jin swung at a whip-like tendril that lashed toward him. But with so many branches flying at once, some slipped past. Hyun Ho-jun rolled out of the way just in time and summoned flames, narrowly avoiding the attacks Kang-jin had missed.

As the fire touched the monster’s branches, they writhed and then snapped off, falling to the ground. The creature had severed them itself to stop the flames. From the places where it had cut, new branches quickly sprouted.

“It’s dangerous here—stay back,”

Kang I-won said, then rushed forward to cut down the branches sneaking into Han Kang-jin’s blind spot, taking his place beside him.

Feeling the familiar presence at his side, Han Kang-jin kept his eyes locked on the monster but spoke.

“You’re here? Good. Listen up—I’ll make it quick.”

“Yes, sir.”

“As you can see, it’s a plant-type. You see those eight thick branches? You cut one down, and another just sprouts in its place. Even Ho-jun’s fire isn’t working.”

The monster looked like a tree. It only had eight branches—but each one was abnormally thick.

At the base where the branches connected to the main body, there were black scorch marks—evidence of Hyun Ho-jun’s failed attempts to burn them.

The monster’s trunk was smeared with a strange, sticky fluid. Thick and yellowish, it looked like someone had slathered it in honey. Han Kang-jin continued,

“Because of that weird sap, the fire won’t catch on the body. Luckily, Young-ho’s attacks seem to work a little, but they’re not strong enough to break through. Tch. We already called for backup, but… got any bright ideas?”

At his question, Kang I-won quickly surveyed the area. Severed and scorched branches were scattered all around—no matter how many they cut, new ones just kept coming.

There was no way it could regenerate forever, but with no idea when it would stop, they couldn’t afford to keep chopping branches indefinitely.

They’d have to strike the main body.

But the sap nullified Ho-jun’s fire, and Young-ho’s electricity lacked the power.
And Kang I-won himself? It was risky. The goo coating the monster’s exterior was incredibly sticky—if he rushed in carelessly, he might end up stuck to it like a bug caught in a spider’s web.

This monster was, in every way, a terrible match for Team 5. Kang I-won clicked his tongue.

“We’ll probably have to wait for backup.”

Han Kang-jin sighed at the same conclusion.

With no better options, Team 5 worked to contain the monster, keeping it in one place to minimize collateral damage to the surrounding residential area.

While they held position, fifteen branches were severed.

And the moment they cut down the sixteenth, the monster suddenly retracted all of its limbs—then began twisting its eight branches into four thick, braided pairs. The once-eight limbs now formed four, each aimed at a different Team 5 member.

Han Kang-jin raised his shield to block. Kim Young-ho ducked behind a utility pole.
Kang I-won dropped low, and the branch that targeted him slammed deep into the ground.

He grabbed his dagger and drove it down into the embedded branch, but all it did was ring out like metal striking metal. His hand throbbed from the shock.
The branches weren’t just twisted—they were harder, too.

“Hey! Ho-jun! You okay?!”

At Kim Young-ho’s voice, Kang I-won’s head snapped toward Hyun Ho-jun.

TL/N: hello I edited the chapters that were said to need editing Thanks for lmk I would have never found out about it lol. if either chapters need it lmk cuz they are so long I might have missed something