STB 1.2

“Guide Baek Heeji! Please stand up!”

The medical staff who had rushed over were none too gentle in their efforts to lift him. Still, Heeji could hardly blame them. He had done more than his fair share of shady things while helping Kang Hyunmuk climb the ranks to Vice Director of Minos Seoul Branch. He had certainly earned their resentment, so being disliked didn’t particularly bother him. After all, there’s no effect without a cause.

“Ow—hey, that hurts! Can’t you see I’m a patient?”

Not that he planned to just sit there and take it. Heeji scowled at the man grabbing his arm, clearly annoyed. One minute ago he was wailing on the floor, and now he glared up, brows furrowed like none of that had happened. The man—likely a doctor—hesitated at the sudden shift in demeanor.

“Ahem… Just stand up for now. You’re blocking the hallway and disturbing the other patients.”

Heeji couldn’t argue with that. Can’t exactly claim to have lost your memory and then start a public tantrum about hallway etiquette. He got to his feet, red eyes still brimming with tears he’d forced out earlier.

“Ughh… where am I? I don’t remember anything…”

“Guide Baek Heeji, are you certain you don’t recall your age, where you live, or anything of the sort?”

The doctor looked flustered as he asked again. Heeji was starting to get annoyed with the repetition.

“Yes! I already told you! What, are you hard of hearing? You’ve only been catching half of what I say since earlier. So frustrating.”

“Excuse me, what did you just—?”

“Waaah… where is my hometown? Forgetting who I am… what a tragic fate…”

Pretending to be this miserable when he wasn’t even remotely sad was honestly exhausting. His lines were starting to sound clichéd, and he could sense the risk: if this farce dragged on too long, someone might start to suspect it wasn’t real.

“Guide Baek Heeji.”

That familiar low voice cut through him like a blade. Heeji sighed inwardly.

Damn… should’ve moved faster. Wasting time on this performance was a mistake.

He’d hoped to avoid running into this particular person—the very last one he could fool so easily.

Vice Director of Minos Seoul, S++ level telekinetic, a man who could defy the laws of the universe with sheer force of will alone—Kang Hyunmuk was staring at him with a blank, unreadable expression from across the hall.

“……”

“……”

A thick, charged silence settled between the two espers. Heeji tried to put on a clueless look, but it was harder than he expected. The moment their eyes met, his gaze wavered.

That’s when it hit him: he really must have died and come back. There was no other way to explain the faint glimmer of something other than contempt in Kang Hyunmuk’s eyes. If Heeji hadn’t truly come back from the edge, there was no reason that man’s hatred would have ever faltered.

Hyunmuk didn’t even blink as he spoke in a cold, impassive tone.

“Why is Section Chief Baek outside of his room? I told the staff to notify me the moment you regained consciousness. You’re late.”

Heeji flinched at the voice that pierced his ears like a needle. Instinctively, he glanced around, noticing how everyone nearby suddenly tensed.

Hyunmuk strode forward, covering the distance between them in a few long strides. He came to a stop just inches from Heeji, his uniform perfectly pressed, the air around him charged with something sharp and overwhelming—like a honed blade. Whether it was his aura or his power restrained beneath the surface, he radiated a pressure that made one instinctively recognize the difference between species.

“Looks like he’s only just regained consciousness. He’s still experiencing disorientation, so we didn’t have a chance to notify you yet.”

The medical staff stammered, clearly overwhelmed by Hyunmuk’s presence.

From Heeji’s perspective—still pretending to be some poor amnesiac sobbing on the floor—none of this made any sense.

Wait… he told them to notify him when I woke up? Why? It’s not like he’d come just to check on me.

Unless something had gone wrong with Song Jiwoo, who had almost been dragged into Isoduth… But if that were the case, wouldn’t Hyunmuk be checking on him instead of coming here?

Did Jiwoo get hospitalized in the Guide ward? He considered the possibility, but it didn’t add up. Knowing Kang Hyunmuk’s personality, he wasn’t the type to make a hospital visit, even for Song Jiwoo.

In the end, Heeji couldn’t make sense of it. And the worst part was, he was still in the middle of faking amnesia. Tricking the medical staff was one thing—but fooling Hyunmuk?

That was a whole different beast.

The original plan was to get a formal diagnosis from the doctors, then use that to lie his way past Hyunmuk and all the other annoying higher-ups at the branch. But now? The whole thing was going off the rails.

“Guide Baek Heeji appears to be experiencing memory loss…”

Just in time, one of the doctors pushed up his glasses and stepped in to explain on his behalf.

Heeji, seizing the opportunity, began praying silently.

Please… let that uptight bastard believe it. Let him think I really forgot.

Kang Hyunmuk looked around at the chaotic scene—the crowd, Heeji still sprawled on the floor crying, and the doctor glancing his way with an uncertain expression. Without shedding his air of authority, he spoke.

“Have you run a thorough examination?”

His tone implied that if they were making a fuss over nothing, there would be consequences. The doctor standing closest to him visibly flinched, swallowing hard. He looked completely terrified.

Heeji, observing the situation, finally opened his mouth. If this went on, things might start turning against him.

“I don’t need a damn exam. I can’t even remember my own name. ‘Baek Heeji’? What kind of name is ‘Heeji’? That’s so lame.”

An awkward silence followed.

The doctor seemed to regain his senses and reached down to help the still-collapsed Heeji back to his feet. Irritated by how the situation was unfolding, Heeji swatted the doctor’s hand away.

If it weren’t for that familiar ESP ability wrapping around his waist and gripping his shoulder—lifting him gently by the knees—he would’ve succeeded.

Shit.

He barely swallowed the curse. Thanks to that sudden use of ESP, he was forced into direct eye contact with Kang Hyunmuk. And for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why Hyunmuk had used his power. Normally, he wouldn’t even touch Heeji, let alone use his ability on him.

Heeji tried hard to recover from the shock, to compose his expression before Hyunmuk—who had a snake-like precision to his scrutiny—could see through him.

“You’re saying you don’t remember anything… not even your name?”

Hyunmuk asked with a calmness that only made the heat underneath more obvious. Heeji knew that tone all too well. It was how Hyunmuk spoke when he was suppressing his anger—something he hadn’t bothered to do in the last few years.

Is he going soft on me just because I’m in a hospital gown?

“Yeah, I told you, nothing’s coming back. And who the hell are you to speak so informally? Should I drop the honorifics too?”

A sharp intake of breath came from the onlookers.

Why are they so surprised? He’s the same age as me.

But since he was pretending to have amnesia, he couldn’t exactly say that out loud. Instead, he whistled under his breath and stared off into the distance like he didn’t have a care in the world.

That’s when it hit.

A concentrated wave of psychic pressure suddenly enveloped Heeji.

He bristled immediately. Is this guy insane? Among espers, releasing that kind of force was basically a declaration of war.

He reflexively tried to push back with his own psychic field—but nothing came. His ESP flow was… off. Like an hourglass with all the sand already drained, his power was just gone.

What the hell…?

A cold, crawling sensation swept down his spine. It was a feeling worse than when he’d been caught in the Exodus and was seconds away from death.

Something was very wrong.

“Sh-should we run another test?” the doctor stammered. “We were planning to do a full examination anyway, especially since there’s been talk of Guide Baek Heeji losing all his ESP ability and becoming a full guide.”

What the actual fuck?

Heeji nearly lunged to grab the doctor by the collar. What do you mean I lost all my abilities? That Baek Heeji? The guy who used ESP like it was a toy?

He’d become a guide? As in, one of those useless support types? Someone who couldn’t use ESP at all, just a regular civilian now?

To someone like Heeji, hearing that he’d become a guide was no different than being told he was completely powerless.

He wanted to scream that makes no sense, but he’d already claimed to have amnesia. He had to keep it up. Especially with Kang Hyunmuk staring straight through him.

He could feel that gaze—sharp, unyielding. Heeji knew Hyunmuk hadn’t looked away from him once.

The second he sensed it, he struggled to compose himself. This stupid act… if I’ve started it, I need to finish it.

If he had really lost his ESP, the worst thing he could do was blow his cover. With all the enemies he’d made over the years through backroom politics and manipulations, losing his powers basically signed his death certificate. He’d be lucky to make it out of the hospital without being kidnapped or worse.

So, pretending to have no memory and starting over might be the smartest move. He ran the calculations quickly in his head.

“G-Guide…? Like a tour guide?” he asked, feigning confusion. “Wait, no… That’s not what ‘guide’ means here, is it…?”

He’d heard that even patients with amnesia often retained common knowledge and everyday language. If he pretended to know nothing about guides, it might raise suspicion. So he had to strike the right balance—like someone who had fragments of understanding but couldn’t fully piece it together.

“A guide… Me…? But I…”

His voice trailed off.