LLHT Ch 10.2

Among healing Espers, many can regenerate severed limbs, but Espers who can restore vital organs are extremely rare.

Despite possessing such a remarkable ability, he didn’t have the unique physical structure characteristic of Espers.

The reason Chiyeong didn’t harbor much suspicion about the physique of the public service worker whose ability briefly manifested and then disappeared that afternoon was because of Kim Hanna’s existence.

However, even she was stronger than Chiyeong in terms of pure strength. That’s just how the genetics of Espers are.

“…Is it delicious? Then it’s fine.”

Baekyeon spoke, bending his head towards her and whispering softly. Chiyeong, who had occasionally seen Baekyeon like this at Dongjuk University, didn’t think much of it, but Lee Seok seemed to feel differently.

He drained the alcohol in the thin wine glass in one gulp with a pale face.

“I feel like throwing up.”

A scathing review accompanied it. Captain Lee Seung-gyun, who was sitting next to him, smiled slightly and pushed a water goblet in front of him.

Captain Lee Seung-gyun’s appearance gave a gentle impression. With large, round eyes, he resembled a large dog. Not a hunting dog like a German Shepherd or Doberman, but more like a Retriever, and he didn’t talk much, perhaps because he was taciturn.

Slightly upturned lips made him appear even gentler.

“Stop bickering, old men.”

The lieutenant-level officers of the special forces hold immense authority, unlike those in the regular army.

While lieutenant-level officers in the regular army also play a definite role as executives, lieutenant-level officers in the special forces were equivalent to general-level officers in the regular army.

So, if the title of “old man” he used implied a proper assumption of authority, it wouldn’t have been awkward.

When he said that, Kim Lee-seok looked back at Lee Seung-gyun. Then he pulled Seung-gyun’s chin and gave him a bird kiss, light enough to make a small peck sound.

Chiyeong quickly lost focus in his eyes. It wasn’t that there weren’t people who shared guiding in public places, but it was the first time he had seen it so close.

Baekhan, who had been diligently looking at the wine menu, clicked his tongue in annoyance.

“Stop with that disgusting display. You were saying you’d set up Sister and Kim Hanna. Why are you the one pecking away?”

“What? Was this that kind of gathering?”

Hanna’s eyes sharpened. Chiyeong looked at Baekhan with contempt. What kind of setting up is that? Clueless hippopotamus.

Baekyeon shook his head, his face slightly pale.

“No. It’s not like that……”

“It’s not, is it?”

“…It is.”

“Good. I came here to enjoy a good meal, so let’s stop talking about that.”

With Hanna’s neat conclusion, Baekyeon nodded. The way he hunched his large frame and gauged Hanna’s reaction was almost pathetic.

Chiyeong sighed briefly. Like himself, Baekyeon seemed to have no luck with friends, and since those so-called friends weren’t helping him, his love life was going down the drain like this.

Unable to help it, Chiyeong, who had been silent except for saluting when they entered the room, opened his mouth.

It was strange to help someone when he couldn’t even help himself, but watching Baekyeon flounder, he could feel the heart of a Guide who loved his Esper, and he couldn’t just stand by.

“…Come to think of it, Director Ki, you’ve been diligently attending your knee rehabilitation lately. Has it gotten much better?”

“Hmm, it’s mostly recovered now. Not bad.”

Hanna, who had been sullenly poking at the olives on his plate, showed interest in Chiyeong’s words.

In truth, it wasn’t that Kim Hanna disliked Baekyeon and was pushing him away. Even now, wasn’t he perking up his ears, concerned about her health?

Ki Baekyeon had long considered Kim Hanna as his paired Esper. They had been building feelings for each other on the same team, and if it weren’t for the previous incident, they would have smoothly transitioned from pairing to imprinting.

It fell apart because Ki Baekyeon, prioritizing Kim Hanna’s safety during a mission, excluded her from the operation and rushed alone into the rocky cave where the enemy was positioned.

He remembered what Baekhan had said back then.

“It’s ridiculous. If he likes Kim Hanna, he likes her, so why exclude her from the mission?”

Chiyeong had silently scoffed at Baekhan, who said those words.

It was an arrogant statement that showed no understanding of Baekyeon’s heart, which had excluded her from the mission for her sake, nor of Kim Hanna’s heart, which had been disappointed by Baekyeon’s decision, thinking that he would always shoulder the burden alone in critical situations.

Chiyeong suddenly realized that the Esper he loved was incredibly selfish and more arrogant than anyone else. How did he end up falling for such a guy?

Since his feelings, once given, weren’t returning, burying those foolish thoughts had become a distant task.

As Kim Hanna started to show interest in Baekyeon’s knee, Chiyeong bit his lip, suppressing the corners of his mouth that threatened to curl upwards. It was then, as he poked a boiled and fried, cube-shaped potato with his fork, that he felt a gaze.

He looked to the side and saw Gi Baekhan, who had been resting his chin on his arm on the table, now completely turned towards Chiyeong, staring intently.

“…What are you looking at?”

“So naive.”

Gi Baekhan said something out of the blue. He stretched out his other arm and flicked Chiyeong’s earlobe. Chiyeong slapped the back of his hand hard enough to make a smack sound.

But Baekhan just chuckled, as if it didn’t even tickle.

“Ahn Chiyeong.”

“…….”

“What are you going to do, being so naive.”

Something welled up inside Chiyeong. He must look ridiculous to Baekhan. How pathetic he must seem, not leaving even after being scolded, like a dog that comes back whimpering even after being beaten.

Whenever he stood before Gi Baekhan, he felt like something utterly insignificant. He loved him, but besides that, he and Baekhan were both human beings guaranteed dignity under the constitution.

What created such a gap between them?

As Chiyeong pondered this, servers entered with trays and began exchanging empty plates for new ones, as before.

The new dish was ravioli filled with shrimp, wild chives, and mashed potatoes, drizzled with bisque sauce. On top were grilled prawns seasoned with olive oil and lemon juice.

The atmosphere at the table began to soften again.

“The battalion commander isn’t giving you too much trouble, is he?”

Lee Seung-gyun asked Chiyeong in a gentle tone. Chiyeong nodded and replied.

“It’s fine.”

It wasn’t an answer that meant he wasn’t being bothered, but rather that he was okay regardless. Kim Hanna, who had been putting a ravioli in his mouth, chuckled.

“How does the battalion commander even have such good fortune with a Guide? It’s infuriating, such a good person.”

“I told him I’d set him up on a blind date.”

Baekyeon, holding the stem of his wine glass, replied casually to Hanna’s words.

“Sister, mind your own family’s love affairs. Why do you keep provoking me?”

“Why would I provoke a mess like you? I’m provoking Ahn Chiyeong.”

Kim Hanna glanced at Gi Baekhan and clicked his tongue. Ki Baekyeon’s attitude was also resolutely firm.

Even though everyone was looking at Gi Baekhan as if he were the villain, the hippo just chuckled without a hint of remorse, pulled Chiyeong’s waist closer, and kissed his cheek, which was busy chewing something.

“Honey, there are too many bastards here. Shall we leave?”

He didn’t want to leave. It was fascinating to watch the servers circling and bringing dishes, and it was enjoyable to apply the table manners he had learned during the introductory spy training.

The Esper-Guide Special Forces mandated cultural subjects for operations. Thanks to that, Chiyeong was able to learn table manners.

Properly, he should have taken liberal arts courses during his co-ed school days before enlisting. However, there were also meticulously prepared educational programs for those who enlisted directly, like Chiyeong, allowing him to attend temporarily established lectures.

Even though it was a crash course, learning something was enjoyable, so he listened diligently, and it was a bit fun to think about applying those things.

‘This is the salad fork…’

He muttered inwardly, lightly touching the gleaming cutlery. The food eaten with the silver-plated cutlery was also quite delicious.

From the texture to the taste and the way it went down, more excellent dishes seemed likely to come, but he couldn’t give that up and leave with just the hippo.

Chiyeong cut the shrimp tail with a knife, put it in his mouth, and simply shook his head without replying. It meant no.

Gi Baekhan, seemingly surprised by Chiyeong’s rejection, looked down at his puffed-out cheeks with a bewildered expression.

“What the, why is this hamster playing hard to get?”

“Hey, he said he’s not going. He said he wants to kill you because he hates you. Stop showing off and sit down, Gi Baekhan.”

Lee Seok sneered at Baekhan, the corners of his mouth lifting in a cold expression. Gi Baekhan turned his head sharply and looked at Lee Seok.

“Why are you butting in? You shorty.”

“What does height have to do with it? Judging by your actions, I’m the older brother here. And I’ve tied the knot. How dare a bachelor act up.”

It seemed he referred to imprinting with his paired Guide, Captain Lee Seung-gyun, as tying the knot.

Baekhan and Chiyeong were also imprinted, but if one were to be precise, it was closer to an accident that occurred without the Center’s approval.

Generally, imprinting required a consensual relationship. The imprinting between the two was closer to an accident caused by the abnormal entanglement of Baekhan’s wavelength during an outburst and Chiyeong’s guiding wavelength, devoid of the commonly understood romantic meaning.

So, Lee Seok was teasing Baekhan for being a bachelor. Chiyeong thought indifferently, but unexpectedly, Baekhan’s expression hardened.

‘Does he hate it when people mention the imprinting?’

Gi Baekhan didn’t like hearing others talk about his imprinting with Chiyeong. Even though he himself brought it up quite often.

How could he understand a person who seemed to be a walking contradiction? Chiyeong simply tuned it out.

It seemed the others around them felt the same way. They were busy eating the served food, seemingly indifferent to Gi Baekhan and Lee Seok’s growling at each other.

It was a different atmosphere from Chunran. At Chunran, even if Gi Baekhan just growled a little, everyone would flatten themselves on the ground, looking like they would rather die.

Perhaps it was because this was the military, where hierarchy was emphasized, but it was closer to absolute submission to Gi Baekhan’s power. It was like taking a detour to avoid being bitten by a rabid dog.

However, among those seated at the table, no one seemed afraid of Gi Baekhan’s Esper wavelength.

It was because they had power. People promised manifestation as Espers and Guides from birth. And within that, Chiyeong felt a slight sense of alienation.

‘I was scared to death of that hippo from the start.’

He remembered the moment when Baekhan, hiding under the bent restaurant table, peeked out and smiled at him.

Chiyeong had barely suppressed a scream. Because the Esper wavelength he emitted was overwhelming.

Now, thanks to his combat training, he at least had the courage to run away if he encountered an Esper, but back then, he was nothing.

Towards Baekhan, who had discovered him, a being of nothing, Ahn Chiyeong had fostered fear and love simultaneously.

Perhaps meeting him at such a young age was the problem. Because of that first impression, Baekhan was always an overwhelmingly strong figure to Chiyeong.

Even now, knowing full well that his personality was close to that of a scoundrel, he had never denied that Baekhan was strong.

However, the people here didn’t seem to care whether Gi Baekhan was strong or not. Chiyeong could see that their solid confidence and healthy minds formed an ironclad defense.

That was precisely what Chiyeong lacked innately. How much he had struggled over the years, unable to bridge that gap.

‘But everyone has differences with others… Let’s not be hasty.’

Chiyeong thought, admonishing himself, and poked the food again with his shining fork. A lion has a lion’s hardships, a snake has a snake’s anguish.

Having experienced frequent misfortune from a very young age, Chiyeong understood that difference better than anyone. He knew it was best not to ask, “Why only me?”

If not today, then tomorrow, little by little. With that thought, Ahn Chiyeong was able to crawl out from under the mountain that was Gi Baekhan.

He hadn’t completely expelled him from his heart. Chiyeong’s heart hadn’t yet returned to Chiyeong.

But if not today, then tomorrow would do.

Ahn Chiyeong, who had grown up amidst despair, was skilled at focusing on what he could do, like a plant that could breathe even in the smallest amount of air.

He observed all the misfortunes that befell him as if they were someone else’s affairs, letting things be. This was good for enduring situations, but it made him vulnerable to situations like the following.

While Chiyeong was trying to focus on his food, Gi Baekhan was staring at him intently.

“Drink some more wine. Let me see you drunk.”

He leaned in and whispered, his lips brushing against Chiyeong’s ear. His voice was sticky, his breath like that of someone trying to seduce another at a drinking party.

Without replying, Chiyeong wiped his ear where Baekhan’s lips had been, then continued eating.

Having lived his life observing all the hardships that came his way as if they were someone else’s problems, he couldn’t help but be vulnerable to unscrupulous scoundrels like Gi Baekhan.

Chiyeong had never once asked Baekhan why he acted this way. He never asked why he tormented him, why he made him sad. He just stood there blankly, like someone waiting for a downpour to stop.

If it had been anyone else, their conscience would have made them notice Chiyeong and either stay away or pull him closer, helping him straighten his back.

But Gi Baekhan’s lack of conscience didn’t allow him to care about such things. Thanks to that, Chiyeong, having conveyed all his refusal by simply wiping his ear as if brushing away a bothersome fly, now touched his lips to the wine glass defenselessly.

“But is it okay to drink? We can’t even call a designated driver.”

Staring curiously at the red wine that swept through the rich aroma of the meat, Chiyeong suddenly seemed to remember something and asked Baekhan.

Baekhan, who had been preoccupied with whispering sweet nothings into Chiyeong’s ear, didn’t focus on his question. He buried his face in Chiyeong’s neck and sniffed before answering nonchalantly.

“What designated driver?”

“We have to drive to get back to the Center, don’t we?”

Chiyeong replied, pushing Baekhan’s chin away with his palm. The Special Forces were bound by military law to keep their identities hidden from civilians.

Their reasoning was that the existence of Espers could cause unrest among the public. However, in a time like this, where anyone could easily take a picture with a single finger movement, they seemed to think it was impossible to completely conceal their existence, so the military only officially denied the existence of Espers and Guides.

Even with such lax military laws, the Center’s location was a military secret, so they couldn’t even wander near it by taxi, let alone have a designated driver.

The surrounding civilians believed the Center was one of the remaining US military bases. Because a town capable of supporting human life was formed within it.

He had asked out of curiosity, wondering how the officers drank when they couldn’t even have a designated driver, but Gi Baekhan rested his arms on the table, propped his chin up, and chuckled.

“We’re sleeping here tonight.”

“…All of us together?”

Imagining sleeping together like a school trip, Chiyeong thought of school excursions he had never experienced and made a slightly hopeful expression.

Seeing this, Baekhan pushed Chiyeong’s forehead lightly with his index finger, a dumbfounded look on his face.

“Why are you so promiscuous when you have no experience? Already wanting an orgy, are we, you virgin?”

An, what? Chiyeong’s expression became puzzled. But he didn’t think about it further. It was obvious that he was being teased.

“Just the two of us are going up. I got a room. I wonder why I even bothered getting the highest grade room for a fool like you.”

Gi Baekhan spoke as if Chiyeong was pathetic, but he didn’t seem to be in a bad mood. Chiyeong was just puzzled.

‘Why are we staying overnight? Is there some kind of mission here tomorrow?’

Unable to grasp the hidden meaning in Baekhan’s words, Chiyeong just tilted his head. Meanwhile, the Espers emptied the wine bottles one after another.

The sounds of glasses being placed down and cutlery clinking against the bone china plates were clear. Chiyeong quietly ate his food. He wasn’t feeling bad. A rather comfortable atmosphere flowed through the private room illuminated by ivory lighting.

The Espers and Guides enjoyed eating and drinking, and whenever they threw out jokes, Chiyeong would chuckle softly. He thought it was a relaxing evening.

That is, until Gi Baekhan grabbed his wrist and pulled him up.

“What vulgarity…”

Kim Lee-seok clicked his tongue and said. Gi Baekhan, who had stood up first and was holding Chiyeong’s wrist, looked down at him and smiled.

“Why have you been needling me like this since earlier?”

Gi Baekhan instantly amplified his wavelength. Ki Baekyeon frowned.

“Ahn Chiyeong hasn’t even finished his meal. Where are you taking him?”

Chiyeong tried to pull his wrist out of Gi Baekhan’s grasp while trying to piece together what was happening. His hand, still gripped, couldn’t let go of the spoon. He had food in his mouth, so he busily chewed and swallowed, only his eyes darting around.

Baekhan chuckled and lifted Chiyeong’s wrist, taking the silver spoon he was holding and placing it on the table. It was a clean, efficient movement.

“Sister, pick one.”

“What do you mean, pick one?”

“Pick whether you’ll look after him or him. Do you want a flower in each hand or something?”

Tired of the siblings’ squabble, Kim Lee-seok picked up a linen napkin, wiped his mouth, and placed it on his empty plate, clicking his tongue.

“Baekyeon, leave it. That guy hasn’t come to his senses. I thought he was different since he even invited us to dinner. He won’t learn until he regrets it.”

Gi Baekhan smiled at him again.

“Shut your trap. Since when have you been so interested in other people’s business? Should I take some interest in yours too, friend?”

Lee Seok frowned slightly, as if annoyed. Meanwhile, Chiyeong had to be dragged up by Baekhan.

He could feel Lee Seung-gyun looking at him with concern. Why? Where was Gi Baekhan taking him that made everyone’s expressions like this?

He tried to pull his captured wrist free, but it wasn’t easy. Gi Baekhan hummed as he left the room, even acknowledging the slight bows of the passing staff.

“Yes. It’s been a pleasant evening.”

…Is he crazy? Why is he acting like this? Chiyeong glared at Baekhan’s back, whose mood seemed to have inexplicably improved, and had no choice but to follow. No matter how many times he tried, his captured wrist wouldn’t come loose.

He ended up being dragged all the way to the elevator.

“Where are we going? We could just return to the Center. Why are we staying…”

“Yeah, my baby doesn’t know anything, does he? Keep up the innocent act, it’s starting to turn me on.”

He was wondering which switch had been flipped in this pervert’s head when the elevator dinged clearly and the doors opened.

Gi Baekhan pulled Chiyeong into the elevator. He took a key card from his inner jacket pocket and held it against the elevator’s button panel. A soft electronic chime sounded, and the topmost button, marked ‘P,’ lit up. It shimmered gold, with only the letter ‘P’ and no floor number indicated.

While Chiyeong stared blankly, not understanding what it meant, he heard a chuckle from above. He looked up, and sure enough, Gi Baekhan was looking down at him, smiling.

“How could I have lived without knowing how cute this is?”

His eyes held a playful glint, the corners crinkling charmingly.

The slight widening of his eyes as he smiled, accentuating his tear mole, somehow softened Gi Baekhan’s wildness while simultaneously making him incredibly attractive. Chiyeong tore his gaze away with difficulty and said,

“…I asked where we’re going.”

“Guess.”

Baekhan gave Chiyeong a slight push. The elevator doors closed silently behind him.

Chiyeong stepped back. Through the elevator’s glass walls, he could see the Han River, deep in the night.

With the city lights and the rippling Han River at his back, Chiyeong was forced into a corner by Gi Baekhan until his back touched the elevator wall.

As his back hit the wall, Baekhan gripped the interior handrails embedded in the wall with both arms, effectively trapping Chiyeong between them.

Backlit, Baekhan’s face fell into shadow. Chiyeong unconsciously parted his lips.

“Let’s get our mouths in sync before we go in. I can’t hold back anymore.”

“What are you talki—mmmph.”

His next words were swallowed. Baekhan’s lips pressed against his. Soft flesh met his. A tongue, having licked Chiyeong’s lips, spoke brazenly.

“Vanilla? Was that the last thing we had?”

“…….”

Chiyeong didn’t reply. He recalled the crème brûlée they had for dessert. He had been enjoying it, following Kim Hanna’s advice to tap the crisp top with a silver spoon and eat it with the custard underneath, when he was dragged away.

Just as Chiyeong, his face flushed, tried to push Baekhan’s chest away, their lips met again with a soft pop. He felt a tongue intruding, pushing inside with impudent familiarity.

Chiyeong wanted to bite down hard on it with his front teeth, but it was too thick to manage. His nerves felt like they were burning. A heavy feeling in his lower abdomen prevented him from fidgeting.

Only their tongues and saliva had mingled, yet somehow, Gi Baekhan’s scent permeated his sinuses: a mix of magnolia, birch, and musk. Rather than a kiss, it felt like he was being chemically imprinted by Gi Baekhan.

The sensation of guiding escaping through their touching skin was vivid. Chiyeong unconsciously furrowed his brows and closed his eyes.

Senses became a jumbled mess. The feeling of a tongue brushing against his, the soft sucking sounds from between their lips, Gi Baekhan’s breath, the feeling of his expanding chest against his own with each exhale, their legs entangled.

All the tactile sensations and perceptions seemed to sweep over Chiyeong’s entire body.

Chiyeong unconsciously felt a tightening in his lower abdomen. The heavy feeling made his ears flush. It was then that Gi Baekhan chuckled, having seen it.

A clear ding announced the elevator’s arrival. They had reached the top floor. The room was directly connected to the elevator by a single hallway.

Gi Baekhan placed his large hand on the small of Chiyeong’s back and gave him a slight push. Chiyeong pursed his lips. The changes happening below made his gait unsteady.

“What, are you excited?”

Gi Baekhan giggled, hugging Chiyeong. He wrapped his arms tightly around Chiyeong’s shoulders and headed towards the top-floor room.

A butler standing there bowed slightly. He was the dedicated butler for the hotel’s presidential suite.

Gi Baekhan, ignoring Chiyeong, who froze upon seeing the unexpected butler, patted the still-bowing butler on the shoulder and said,

“Uh, you can go. I won’t need you.”

“Yes.”

The butler replied curtly with an impeccable attitude and straightened up. He seemed intent on just closing the door behind them.

Chiyeong, following Baekhan, who had already slipped inside, quickly bowed his head to preempt the butler’s greeting and hurried inside.

The door slowly closed behind them. But Chiyeong didn’t notice. The scene that unfolded before him was spectacular.

The presidential suite’s wide panoramic windows showcased the Seoul cityscape and the Han River.

An ivory chandelier, long and curved like the Han River itself, sparkled with hundreds of finely cut crystals.

Beyond the area furnished with high-quality, velvet-covered sofas, on a console against the wall, Joseon white porcelain sat, emitting a soft glow. He had seen that kind of white porcelain, called moon jars, in the news.

The smooth glaze, emitting a gentle light, looked elegant despite its lack of decoration. Having never seen such porcelain used as interior decoration, Chiyeong felt like he had entered a new world.

And Gi Baekhan always led Chiyeong into new worlds like this, only to lose interest and leave him behind.

He suddenly disappeared from sight, then reappeared at the bar next to the living room, retrieving something. It was an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne.

On a silver tray beside it was a pile of strawberries, and his cheek bulged as if he had one in his mouth.

“Go wash up.”

“…Why should I wash up… I can just go back to the Center on my own.”

Chiyeong said it without thinking. Were they supposed to sleep here together? Was that why the Espers had reacted that way?

Even though they had slept together many times because of Gi Baekhan’s forceful advances, he felt a strange sense of unease.

The feeling in his lower abdomen grew heavier, and he wanted to run away. Perhaps it all showed on his face, because Gi Baekhan, who was taking out a champagne glass, looked at him and chuckled.

“Are you starting to get it now?”

As he looked at Chiyeong with narrowed eyes, it felt like a heavy stone had dropped into his stomach.

He felt like prey before a predator. No, something even more primal…

As Chiyeong unconsciously took a small step back, Gi Baekhan, holding the neck of the champagne bottle, pressed his thumb against the cork and approached.

The light reflected in his smiling eyes. Subtly controlling his ability, he untwisted the wire around the cork without touching it, then effortlessly pulled out the cork with his ability.

He handed a glass to Chiyeong and poured the golden liquid into it.

The sound of fizzing bubbles filled the space between them.

“…….”

“…….”

The two men met each other’s gaze. Chiyeong held his breath. Baekhan lightly clinked Chiyeong’s glass with the bottle, then tilted the bottle, placing his lips on the opening and drinking the champagne directly.

Baekhan’s neck was thick and long. Covered with fine muscles, unlike other creatures, it didn’t give the impression of being a vulnerable spot.

Rather, it made Baekhan seem even more powerful. Even though they were both men, and even though Chiyeong wasn’t small himself, he often felt like he and Gi Baekhan were different species.

Even Baekhan’s Adam’s apple, moving up and down as he swallowed the champagne, looked strong. Chiyeong blushed as he watched.

Gi Baekhan was subtly seducing him. At least, that’s how Chiyeong felt.

Feeling his throat dry, Chiyeong spoke hurriedly,

“…I’m leaving.”

“Leaving where, you?”

Baekhan chuckled in reply. His champagne-wet lips were red. Chiyeong averted his gaze with difficulty.

Even though he liked Gi Baekhan, Chiyeong didn’t have a high libido, so he hadn’t really imagined a deeply intimate relationship with him. He had a one-sided love, devoid of any yearning for Baekhan’s affection, and presumed that physical intimacy with him was even further removed from reality.

To begin with, Gi Baekhan loathed male Guides and would gag at their mere touch. His behavior towards Chiyeong seemed docile compared to his treatment of other male Guides, to the extent that it showed how much he loathed them.

Even if he liked him, it was difficult to harbor sexual fantasies about such a nasty person.

Having little desire, he rarely dreamt of situations that would be troublesome to deal with in the morning.

Lately, Gi Baekhan’s overtly changed behavior had been troubling, but only momentarily. The next day, he would invariably revert to his usual unpleasant self, and even the most lust-driven person would feel all desire drain away after just five minutes with someone as foul-mouthed as Gi Baekhan.

Because of this, Chiyeong found this situation, with Baekhan’s wavelength tinglingly enveloping him, unfamiliar. His whole body tensed.

He suddenly recalled what Baekhan had done to him the last time, their bodies pressed together.

The sensations and feelings, Gi Baekhan’s breath and hot body temperature, the faint scent of magnolia and peony from his neck and behind his ears, all seemed to rush back in an instant.

Chiyeong blushed involuntarily. Baekhan, as if aware of Chiyeong’s state, set down the champagne bottle and moved closer.

Chiyeong, determined not to be led around any further, spoke before Baekhan could make another move.

“…I’m really leaving.”

“Leaving to where? Do you have a lover hidden away at the Center? What about me? This will cry if you leave.”

Gi Baekhan took Chiyeong’s hand and placed it on his own thigh. Chiyeong recoiled in surprise at the contact and pulled his arm away.

“Wh-what is this…”

“We’ve greeted each other a few times already. Are you an introvert? Shy, are we?”

The sheer absurdity of the statement made Chiyeong forget his embarrassment. He frowned, shaking his hand as if he had touched something dirty.

“Stop with the nonsense. I said I’m leaving.”

Baekhan chuckled, grabbing Chiyeong’s wrist and pulling him closer.

“You’re quite cute.”

There was no affection in Baekhan’s words. Such frivolous words could be spoken to anyone. They could even be used to describe inanimate objects.

There was no reason to feel good hearing them. But Baekhan always spoke as if bestowing a favor.

“Ahn Chiyeong, look at your hyung. I don’t gag when I hold you anymore. I practiced, you know?”

“You’re full of crap. Should I give you a medal?”

Chiyeong glared at Baekhan with genuine hatred. His eyes seemed to spark.

At those words, Baekhan smiled, his tear mole crinkling, and kissed Chiyeong’s cheek. His breath smelled of champagne. Chiyeong frowned at the sweet scent.

“Yeah, keep acting all high and mighty. Even that looks cute now.”

Crazy bastard. Chiyeong tried to pry loose the arm Baekhan had wrapped around his waist but lost to the difference in strength.

In the end, Baekhan dragged Chiyeong to the bedroom, tucked him under his arm, and started kissing him, sucking on his lips. His lips tasted slightly sweet, probably from the champagne. He had already shed his jacket as if it were a skin. His hands were incredibly fast.

Chiyeong struggled, trying to push Baekhan’s chin away, but it wasn’t easy. He wished he could manifest as an Esper right now and beat this pervert to death.

“Stop struggling. Is this only for my pleasure?”

Even his words were vulgar. Chiyeong, while surrendering his lips to this handsome pervert, was calculating the angle to kick him in the groin.

Even if he was an Esper, that area wouldn’t be made of steel. Besides, Chiyeong had experience kicking an Esper between the legs. If he aimed well this time, it would probably work.

But their joined lips offered no opening. Moreover, they were already on the bed. As Chiyeong’s back hit the soft mattress, Baekhan pushed him down further.

A tongue, having parted his soft mucous membranes, probed inside brazenly, as if it owned the place.

Each time the tip of the tongue grazed the roof of his mouth, Chiyeong had to struggle to suppress his escaping moans.

“—!”

A sound escaped, as if air was leaking from between his lips. Baekhan gasped roughly. The sensation of guiding being drawn out was vivid.

Chiyeong, unconsciously opening his eyes at the feeling, met the gaze of Baekhan, whose pupils were dilated as he kissed him intensely.

His pupils, dilated like a reptile’s, were strangely unsettling. It was said that receiving guiding from a highly compatible Guide resulted in sensations beyond imagination.

Was Gi Baekhan feeling that too? And from him, of all people? To have his pupils dilate from a single guiding session, after all the contempt he had shown.

Beastly bastard, Chiyeong cursed inwardly.

When he finally pulled away, there was a surprisingly delicate pop sound. Gi Baekhan, his lips wet and glistening with saliva, tilted his head back and growled.

“Ha, feels amazing.”

“…….”

“See, I’m not even gagging. Look at your wife’s efforts. Isn’t he pretty?”

Chiyeong closed his eyes, not wanting to respond. Gi Baekhan, seemingly determined to go all the way, licked Chiyeong’s lower lip with his tongue and sat up, trying to remove his thin knit sweater.

One of his thighs, resting on Chiyeong’s pelvis, was distinctly swollen. The taut outline of his thigh had already half-disgusted Chiyeong.

‘Even if I kick him, it won’t even faze him. It’s so big and strong-looking, it’s annoying.’

Defeated before he could even attempt a groin kick, Chiyeong was frozen under Gi Baekhan’s gaze, which seemed to regard him as a mere snack, when a beeping sound came from the jacket discarded like a shed skin at the border between the living room and bedroom. The pager inside Gi Baekhan’s jacket had lit up.

But Baekhan ignored it. He seemed busy licking Chiyeong’s neck and breathing hot air onto his skin. Chiyeong pushed against his chest, trying to push him away.

“You have a call.”

“I have ears, you know. I’m ignoring it, so cooperate, pretty boy.”

Baekhan replied in disbelief and undid Chiyeong’s shirt buttons. The tongue licking the hollow between his collarbone and neck evoked a strange sensation.

Guiding escaped through that point of contact as well. Chiyeong tried his best not to moan, even unconsciously.

And the pager went off again.

Beep—. Beep beep—. Beep.

It was a Code Black signal transmitted in Morse code from within the Center.

“…Fuck.”

Gi Baekhan cursed under his breath, sat up, and got off the bed. As he straightened up, his broad, mountain-like back curved downwards to pick up the pager, a scene made stark by the discarded sweater.

As he got off, the oppressive weight lifted from Chiyeong, leaving him feeling strangely empty. He pursed his lips and sat up.

A Code Black meant something serious had happened, requiring Baekhan at the Center. The director rarely summoned Baekhan.

While having Gi Baekhan involved made resolving situations easier, dealing with a suddenly summoned Gi Baekhan was more troublesome.

It was as if the director was mindful of the immense power Gi Baekhan and his sister, Ki Baekyeon, wielded within the military, and the influence of their parents.

The director was a political figure, and it was unlikely he would act without considering their parents.

So, a Code Black meant the situation was quite dire.

Chiyeong buttoned his shirt and glanced at Baekhan, who was frowning at the pager.

If it was a mission of that level, there would be no place for Chiyeong. Since Chunran was an elite unit, Chiyeong, whose training wasn’t yet complete, wouldn’t be able to join a Code Black mission with Chunran.

Gi Baekhan would likely head straight to the mission location. Since they had been separated from the others for a while, he might have to go back to the Center alone.

Should he try to catch a taxi? Chiyeong was pondering how to get back when Gi Baekhan spoke in a low voice,

“Why are you spacing out? You heard the signal.”

“Ah, I can go back on my own.”

“What are you talking about? You’re going on the mission too.”

Chiyeong’s eyes widened. He couldn’t help but ask Baekhan,

“…I’m going too?”

“Second Lieutenant Ahn, are you a newbie? A second lieutenant, once trained, needs to be deployed in the field.”

Chiyeong inhaled sharply.

He hadn’t imagined he would be deployed on a mission so soon. His face flushed even more than it had on the bed.

Seeing that, Gi Baekhan’s temper flared.

‘Look at this, after just escaping from under me, he doesn’t even look disappointed.’

Irritation surged through his already foul temper.

“Hey, fix your expression. You and I were just… Never mind. Why am I even saying this?”

“Does this hotel have a helipad?”

Chiyeong casually ignored Baekhan’s words. Having become accustomed to tuning him out, he failed to discern the lingering resentment in his tone. Chiyeong straightened his clothes and even left the bedroom first.

Gi Baekhan, staring at the back of his head, blinked rapidly in frustration. He vowed to rip out what little hair the director had left if this turned out to be a trivial matter.

Baekhan left the room, passing by Chiyeong, who was waiting at the entrance. He walked down the short hallway and pressed the elevator button. The same clear chime as before sounded, and the doors opened.

He pressed the button for the rooftop. Just as Chiyeong had said, a helicopter would be coming. As if they had received prior notice, the butler’s voice came over the elevator’s intercom.

—The helicopter is standing by. We hope you had a pleasant ti—

Gi Baekhan punched the intercom, shattering it. Sparks flew, and the butler’s voice cut off abruptly. Chiyeong, who had entered the elevator, looked at him in surprise.

Even as he pulled his fist out from the mangled metal and torn wires, his knuckles remained pristine white, despite the sparks still flying around his clenched fist.

Baekhan looked at Chiyeong with cold, snake-like eyes.

“What are you looking at?”

“…….”

Chiyeong didn’t answer. He had learned over the past few years, living as this lunatic’s imprinted Guide, that getting on his bad side at times like this only complicated his own life. It was an expensive lesson.

Fortunately, whatever damage had been done didn’t seem to affect its operation, as the elevator ascended rapidly towards the top floor.

As the doors opened with the same clear chime, a frantic whirring sound assaulted his ears. It was the sound of a helicopter’s rotors.

“Battalion Commander, Second Lieutenant Ahn!”

The helicopter hadn’t landed. Hanging from the open door, one foot on the skid, was Heo Inna. Her voice was barely audible over the roar of the rotors, but it sounded like she was calling them over.

He was wondering how they were supposed to board a helicopter that hadn’t even landed, when Gi Baekhan grabbed his waist and lifted him up.

‘This position again.’

He was resigned now. Gi Baekhan held Chiyeong in his arms, drastically reducing their weight.

When an Esper’s superhuman muscles generate explosive power in a near-zero gravity state, an amplification phenomenon occurs because the physical values remain constant. Thanks to this, Gi Baekhan possesses the destructive force of an anti-aircraft gun, despite his flesh-and-bone body.

Gi Baekhan effortlessly leaped into the air. It was a light movement, as if there were solid ground in the empty space. Chiyeong found it amazing, as always.

With such abilities that transcended all humans, how insignificant and foolish his own below-average life must seem.

Held in Baekhan’s arms, Chiyeong looked up at his sharply defined jawline. He truly looked like a god.

Gi Baekhan, performing feats that seemed miraculous to ordinary people as easily as breathing, yet maintaining an austere expression, exuded a captivating arrogance.

He must have never yearned for anything. He must have never despaired over not having something.

So, Gi Baekhan and Ahn Chiyeong had to be different species. Perhaps Chiyeong sometimes felt pain because of the sin of loving someone so distinctly different from himself.

Having reached the vicinity of the hovering helicopter, Gi Baekhan placed one foot on the skid and helped Chiyeong inside first.

Chiyeong grasped Heo Inna’s outstretched hand, pulled himself into the aircraft, and looked back. Gi Baekhan was ducking inside with an indifferent expression.

Once he was fully inside, Heo Inna closed the door and handed them headsets with microphones. As soon as Chiyeong put on his headset, Inna spoke.

“I heard you had a good meal.”

“Yes? Ah…”

He felt a pang of guilt for enjoying a delicious meal in a nice place by himself. Of course, Baekhan had been with him, but a person like him was neither here nor there.

Embarrassed, Chiyeong wanted to suggest that they all go together next time, including Lieutenant Heo and the Chunran team, but his shyness prevented him from speaking.

Gi Baekhan answered nonchalantly on his behalf.

“Inna, ask me too. I’m the one who had all that good food laid out and couldn’t even take a bite.”

Chiyeong looked puzzled at those words. Had Baekhan left any food uneaten today? He seemed to have eaten well. He hadn’t paid close attention, not being interested.

Gi Baekhan, glancing at Chiyeong’s puzzled expression, narrowed one eye and turned his head, mouthing words only Chiyeong could see.

‘Because I couldn’t fuck you.’

Ah, more nonsense. Chiyeong turned his head away without responding. Heo Inna took out combat uniforms from under the seats and handed them to Baekhan and Chiyeong, then showed Baekhan a pad displaying the mission briefing.

“An unidentified flying object crossed into Baengnyeongdo airspace from the West Sea about thirty-eight minutes ago. It doesn’t seem to belong to the Navy or Air Force, and they’ve been unresponsive to radio requests for identification. However, it’s possible this isn’t a conventional aircraft. That’s why even the laser detection was slow.”

“So, what? A flying Esper?”

“That seems to be the case. Estimated to be a group of four to five.”

“What do you mean, estimated?”

“Radar doesn’t pick up bio-signatures well. Even this detection is apparently thanks to incredibly advanced technology.”

“Bullshit. What about Esper wavelengths?”

Gi Baekhan furrowed his brows, seemingly displeased. Other Espers would have cautiously gauged the mood of their ill-tempered superior, but Heo Inna picked her nose.

Chiyeong couldn’t help but notice where her little finger, having excavated her nostril, was headed. Unaware of Chiyeong’s observation, she continued.

“The thing is, it didn’t show up on wavelength radar either. That means they’ve breached the stratosphere at least, but even though flying Espers are good at flying, they’re short on breath, so it’s rare for them to fly through the stratosphere. That’s also suspicious.”

Gi Baekhan, putting on his jumpsuit-like combat uniform over his clothes, wordlessly handed the pad to Chiyeong, who was still fumbling with his own.

As Chiyeong accepted it with a bewildered expression, Baekhan raised an eyebrow and spoke in an irritated tone.

“Get your head in the game. Are you still waiting for the next course? Quickly check the mission overview and memorize it.”

“Yes.”

Chiyeong replied without complaint and buried his face in the pad. His eyes scanned the mission overview rapidly.

• At approximately 22:31 today, an unidentified flying object was detected by the radar of the patrol ship Sunwi, stationed near Baengnyeongdo.
• The captain of Sunwi immediately transmitted a radio message to the West Sea Air Control, attempting to communicate with the flying object, but all three attempts were ignored.
• The captain informed the West Sea Air Force of the situation and targeted the object with a supersonic missile as a final warning.
• The missile, launched at the unresponsive object, misfired and failed to detonate.

After confirming the information, Chiyeong returned the pad to Heo Inna, who immediately deleted the data.

Chiyeong looked out the helicopter window. Lights flickered below from the darkness enveloping the Gyeonggi and Incheon areas. They seemed to be heading towards the West Sea.

Chiyeong hesitated, then asked what he had been wondering.

“Are we going to the object’s estimated landing point?”

Heo Inna’s lips curved upwards slightly, but she quickly composed herself before Baekhan could see and replied impassively, “Yes, that’s right.” The smile seemed like praise, and Chiyeong, slightly flushed, nodded at her words.

“Chunran operatives are all lying in wait at the landing point. We’ll be parachuting into the vicinity. The propeller noise is too loud.”

“Parachuting…”

“It’s alright. When you get the signal, just pull the cord. Battalion Commander will take care of the rest.”

As Chiyeong nodded at Heo Inna’s explanation,

“Is this an elementary school cram school? Enough with the hand-holding, just put on your parachute.”

Baekhan, having already taken off his shirt, was fastening his jumpsuit. It seemed he wasn’t bothered by the cold, even at this altitude. Watching him, Chiyeong regretted, ‘I guess you’re supposed to put it on after taking your shirt off…’

“Yes, sir.”

Even Heo Inna, who usually argued with Baekhan, replied quickly with a blank expression. As a similarly tense Chiyeong looked for his parachute,

Baekhan lightly chopped the back of Chiyeong’s neck and clicked his tongue.

“Why do you need a parachute when you have your hyung? Just hold on tight. I’ll get you down safely.”

How, at this altitude? Even though he knew Baekhan was a gravity-manipulating Esper, his legs felt weak. Chiyeong wanted to trust the parachute, developed by humankind over millennia of accumulated knowledge, more than Gi Baekhan.

“I, I’d rather use a parachute…”

“Lieutenant Heo, watch from below.”

Chiyeong’s opinion was dismissed. Baekhan grabbed the back of his neck and opened the helicopter door.

The wind was so strong it was painful. He thought he might have frozen to death if he hadn’t been wearing the combat uniform. Heo Inna, wearing goggles, jumped out.

Chiyeong gasped. A gaping darkness, obscuring whatever lay below, awaited them.

Whoosh, whoosh—

The furiously rushing wind made him think his voice wouldn’t reach Inna even if he called out to her. Heo Inna, having jumped, disappeared into the darkness.

As she vanished from sight in an instant, Chiyeong looked down, feeling a wave of dizziness.

Gi Baekhan produced a pair of goggles from somewhere and put them on Chiyeong. He looked back at him with dazed eyes, and Baekhan grinned and kissed him on the cheek. His tear mole crinkled.

Chiyeong immediately wiped his cheek where Baekhan had kissed him. Unfazed, Gi Baekhan said,

“Does Cadet Ahn Chiyeong have a lover?”

“No.”

“Shout your lover’s name as you jump. Ready, one, two—”

“I said no.”

Despite Chiyeong’s denial, Gi Baekhan pulled the headset off Chiyeong’s head, tossed it carelessly onto the back seat, wrapped his arms around his waist, and jumped into the darkness.

Their bodies plummeted endlessly, accelerated by gravity. The wind resistance felt like it was holding them back. The wind was so strong it buffeted his short hair relentlessly. It felt like all his internal organs were being pushed out.

Pressed down from above, and pushed up from below by the wind, he felt trapped, unable to move.

Far below, the distant darkness was still the sea. They were near Baengnyeongdo. Even if they fell, there was no guarantee they would land on the island.

Unable to even scream, Chiyeong clung to the strong arms holding him.

Whoosh, whoosh—

The wind roared past his ears. Despite the goggles, air seeped in through the gaps.

Every part of his body was screaming warnings: You are falling, destined to shatter into pieces. He felt a heaviness near his tailbone. The sensation of falling churned his stomach.

He felt resentful towards Baekhan, who had told him to trust him yet wasn’t holding him securely. Involuntarily, Chiyeong clung to him even tighter.

It was then that the deafening wind abruptly ceased.

“This feels pretty good. To have our Ahn Chiyeong clinging to me first.”

The world became quiet as Chiyeong, or rather, both of them, stopped in mid-air. Chiyeong, startled, slowly raised his head.

Baekhan released Chiyeong from his embrace. Holding his hand, he slowly moved him away, as if telling him to look around.

“Ah…”

Chiyeong blinked. His body, which had been falling endlessly as if pressed down by a giant, invisible iron ball, had stopped in mid-air.

He looked down blankly. The lights twinkling near Baengnyeongdo sparkled like tiny cubic zirconia. So, Chiyeong was currently suspended in the air above the West Sea.

“Want to see something even better? Walk.”

“How, how am I supposed to wa—”

As Baekhan made to release his hand, Chiyeong instinctively intertwined their fingers, refusing to let go. He felt like something terrible would happen if he released his grip here.

Gi Baekhan, still smiling, let go of Chiyeong’s hand and gave him a slight push.

“Gasp—!”

Slowly, as if touching down on solid ground, Chiyeong felt something firm beneath the soles of his shoes. Gi Baekhan nodded.

“Walk down from there.”

“What do you me—”

At that moment, the ground beneath Chiyeong’s right foot gave way. Startled, he instinctively stepped forward with his left foot, before he even had time to scream. Beneath his left foot was solid ground.

But the relief was short-lived. The ground that had firmly supported his left foot gave way again. This time, he had no choice but to step forward with his right foot.

As one foot fell through the air, he would step forward with the other, as if descending an invisible staircase.

Baekhan, who had been watching Chiyeong from above, released his gravity ESP and dropped down beside him, saying,

“Run.”

At first, Chiyeong didn’t understand what he meant. Then he felt the ground supporting his heels crumble.

It felt like running across a collapsing bridge, escaping the destruction that began at the opposite end. The path Gi Baekhan had created in mid-air for Chiyeong was rapidly disintegrating and reforming.

Chiyeong ran downwards, stepping on the empty air above the night sea.

Baekhan floated upwards, whistling. The Esper, lying on his back in mid-air, laced his fingers behind his head and leisurely enjoyed the descent.

“Gasp, gasp—!”

Even though he was breathless, he felt incredibly free. In the distance, a crescent moon peeked through the clouds, creating a lunar halo.

Thinking of the Espers who must have flown here intentionally on a dark, moonless night, Chiyeong continued to step on the air, as if running down a staircase.

And then, strong arms wrapped around his waist. It was Gi Baekhan.

“Why are you so amused by this, cheeks all flushed? Cute, Ahn Chiyeong.”

Gi Baekhan said, lifting Chiyeong into his arms.

Gasp, gasp—.

The cold air, from an altitude higher than Mount Halla, filled his lungs then rushed out.

As his chest expanded, Chiyeong clung to Baekhan involuntarily. Baekhan, his arm securely supporting Chiyeong under his knees, dropped vertically.

The speed was tremendous. Baekhan, holding Chiyeong with one arm, showed him his wristwatch. The watch display, capable of showing GPS and other information, flickered, indicating their current altitude.

6 km, 5.3 km, 4.1 km, 2.2 km, 0.9 km…

And then, the speed gradually decreased.

Baekhan, still holding Chiyeong, descended, stepping on the air just as Chiyeong had done moments before. The wind rushed past Chiyeong with a whoosh. Held in Baekhan’s embrace, Chiyeong looked back at the receding sky.

The vast expanse he had freely walked upon moments ago was disappearing. Did Gi Baekhan see this every day? He thought he understood why Baekhan lived as he pleased.

If he could walk through such a spectacle as if it were flat ground, in a state where nothing defied his will, Chiyeong thought he too would live with such arrogance.

Gi Baekhan’s arrogance was beautiful. It suited him incredibly well. Chiyeong understood why he had constantly felt tormented by Gi Baekhan’s side.

Gi Baekhan was not someone to be loved. He was someone who, ignorant of loneliness and solitude, was incapable of loving or being loved.

Chiyeong understood Baekhan for the first time. He realized the origin of his apathy. Something felt like it was slowly falling away.

The feeling was both lonely and liberating.

At that moment, they slowly landed on the flat ground beside the foothills of Baengnyeongdo. As soon as his feet touched the ground, Chiyeong released his hold on Baekhan and stood on his own. This time, Gi Baekhan let him go without a word.

They landed precisely beside Heo Inna, who was gathering her parachute. It was only natural, since they had descended using Heo Inna’s GPS coordinates.

Heo Inna signaled. She pointed north, seemingly indicating the direction of the team. Gi Baekhan nodded lightly and cracked his neck.

Chiyeong felt a slight tension. Heo Inna took two pairs of in-ear communicators from her military backpack, one each for Chiyeong and Baekhan.

They silently put on the devices she handed them. Meanwhile, Heo Inna, having hidden the parachutes in the bushes, ran towards the foothills.

Baekhan once again lifted Chiyeong into his arms.

“……!”

Startled, he struggled involuntarily, and Baekhan clicked his tongue. He whispered in a low voice,

“Don’t you know Espers carry their Guides during operations? Relax. Your hyung is tired.”

“…….”

He felt disgruntled but couldn’t argue. As Baekhan had said, it was protocol for Espers to carry or hold their Guides during missions for swift movement.

Having once again lifted Chiyeong, Baekhan ran up the mountain at high speed.

Whoosh, whoosh—.

Again, the wind whipped past them with a sharp sound.

Baekhan ascended the mountain with the speed of a field motorcycle. He caught up to Heo Inna, who had run ahead, close enough to see her figure in the darkness.

Then, a few seconds later, he swiftly overtook her. The two Espers and one Guide crossed two mountains at that rapid pace.

Pine trees clustered on the low mountain ranges of Baengnyeongdo. Baengnyeongdo, the westernmost island, had a military airport. They ran towards the airport, then directly in the opposite direction.

As they crossed another mountain, the pale faces of the Chunran operatives became visible in the distance. Park Hyeongin recognized them and signaled. Heo Inna responded in kind.

It was a prearranged code, in case any Espers with Persona ESP, capable of altering their appearance, had infiltrated their ranks.

Having joined the operatives at the rendezvous point, Heo Inna immediately set out on reconnaissance. The reconnaissance team consisted of three members: Kim Minwoo, Lee Ingyo, and Heo Inna.

Chiyeong focused on Baekhan’s quietly spoken words. Gi Baekhan excelled not only in his own abilities but also in strategy and battalion command. While he might be a bastard personally, witnessing him on a mission made it impossible to disparage his competence.

The other operatives felt the same. Looking at Hyeongin’s calm expression, Chiyeong understood that such missions were routine for them. Feeling that all he had to do was perform his own task well among these unflappable Espers, he took a short breath and composed himself.

“Ahn Chiyeong will be the anchor point. Wait and provide immediate guiding and a comprehensive situation report when the team returns.”

Assigning him to the anchor point suggested they didn’t consider him a particularly useful asset yet. He wasn’t offended. He believed that even without a chance for great feats, diligently performing small tasks was enough.

He hadn’t expected Gi Baekhan to have him follow proper protocol for new recruits like this. While deployed in the field, it seemed today’s role for Chiyeong was limited to observation. Understanding his words, Chiyeong replied briefly and concisely,

“Yes.”

Gi Baekhan immediately gave instructions to Park Hyeongin as well. Judging by the coordinates and directions he gave, it seemed he was ordering him to block the enemy Espers’ escape routes in advance.

Chiyeong listened intently to Baekhan’s every word, memorizing them to review later, after the mission, since he couldn’t take notes.

There was an insurmountable gap between a Guide with field experience and one without. While he had never complained about his duties in the common guiding room, he felt a sense of pride at the thought of finally participating in a proper mission with an Esper-Guide team.

Even though he longed for discharge, Chiyeong always strived to focus on his current tasks. Even if he were to leave the military tomorrow, he wanted to fulfill his responsibilities for today. That was all.

“Can you stay here alone?”

Baekhan, making a small, cave-like gap between his fists and holding it up to his eye like a telescope, looked off into the distance with one eye closed as he spoke. His question was straightforward, his tone suggesting that the events at the hotel were irrelevant now. Chiyeong realized belatedly that the question was directed at him.

“…Yes.”

His body trembled slightly, but he wasn’t sure whether it was from the cold or from tension. He tried to sound resolute in his reply. He didn’t want to be a burden, especially not to this Esper.

Baekhan, after scrutinizing something in the distance, turned his head and glanced down at Chiyeong, then nodded.

“If you sense any bio-signatures, just hide. Don’t try to search using wide-range radial guiding.”

Gi Baekhan was referring to the island-sized radial guiding that Chiyeong had succeeded in only once.

The training conducted on the virtual island involved spreading the radial guiding wavelength thinly and widely to determine the number and distance of Espers entering the concentric circles.

Instead of asserting his ability, Chiyeong simply nodded. Seeing this, Gi Baekhan lightly flicked Chiyeong’s forehead with his index finger.

As Chiyeong frowned, wondering what the sudden gesture meant, Hyeongin, who was standing next to them, chuckled and answered on Baekhan’s behalf.

“The Battalion Commander doesn’t distrust Second Lieutenant Ahn. He’s worried that Second Lieutenant Ahn’s location will be exposed before we can identify the enemy.”

Those words were unexpected. As Chiyeong looked at Park Hyeongin with disbelief, he laughed and chided Baekhan,

“You should have treated him better usually, Battalion Commander.”

“Shut up.”

Gi Baekhan’s tone was crisp, devoid of any discernible emotion. Chiyeong, his face still registering disbelief, realized that such concern was something a leader could understandably express towards a subordinate.

He was mostly a pain in the ass and had incomprehensible quirks, but he wasn’t a bad superior.

Having reached that conclusion, Chiyeong nodded a beat too late. Other operatives must have received similar consideration when they were new. Chiyeong reminded himself that it wasn’t because he was special to Baekhan.

At the same time, a dull, heavy ache settled over his sternum. It wasn’t the heart-wrenching pain he had felt before.

In truth, what Baekhan had said was entirely accurate. The enemy Espers wielded high-level ESP, enabling them to fly high and evade radar.

Therefore, Chiyeong, who had only recently gained the ability to expand his guiding wavelength, was more likely to be detected.

Gi Baekhan looked down at Chiyeong, who merely nodded silently, and clicked his tongue. Then he pressed down on the top of his head with his large hand, forcing him to crouch.

“Stay hidden. Hyung will be back soon.”

I understand. Looking up at him, conveying the unspoken words, Baekhan chuckled and quickly joined Park Hyeongin. The two Espers exchanged a few words and then dispersed in different directions.

As their figures disappeared into the distance, Chiyeong finally understood why Baekhan had told him to hide here. He had found a slightly depressed hollow.

It seemed to be a pit dug by the regular army stationed on Baengnyeongdo for training purposes. It was surrounded by camouflage netting. Chiyeong slipped inside and quietly focused his gaze forward.

Having been tasked with the simple job of providing guiding to the returning Espers, he wanted to at least excel at concealment. The difficulty level was child’s play compared to the tasks assigned to the other operatives.

This meant that Gi Baekhan had deployed Chiyeong on this mission without any particular expectations, simply to familiarize him with the atmosphere of a real operation.

With that in mind, he had no intention of proving himself to Gi Baekhan, making him look back, or achieving anything significant here.

As Baekhan had instructed, Chiyeong intended to stay hidden and observe what the Espers did and how the engagement unfolded. His rigid and exemplary personality made him more suited to being a soldier than Baekhan.

After some time in hiding, conversations among the operatives crackled through his in-ear communicator. The first voice was Kim Minwoo’s.

—The wavelength detector isn’t working on this side. Anyone spotted even an ant?

—Quiet here too.

Lee Ingyo replied. Their voices were calm. Chiyeong peeked out of the pit with a slightly pounding heart, then quickly ducked back down. He muttered the information he had read in the report.

A total of four to five Espers had landed on Baengnyeongdo without authorization. Their objective remained unknown, and it was unclear whether they were all flying Espers, or if a single high-ranking flying Esper had carried the others.

Chiyeong tried to sense the Esper wavelengths in the air, but it was difficult. Instead, he retracted the guiding subtly diffused on his skin for enhanced concealment.

This was an ability unique to Chiyeong. Normally, other Guides couldn’t consciously control the guiding flowing on their skin. It was like not being able to control blood flow with conscious thought.

When Chiyeong first arrived at the Center, he hadn’t known that it was supposed to be impossible to control consciously. However, he didn’t see it as a special talent just because he could easily do what others couldn’t. He merely assumed it was possible because his guiding capacity was significantly lower.

As he condensed and concealed the guiding that had been playing on his skin, a slight cough escaped him. He felt a bit breathless, as if he had been holding his breath, but not overly so.

A voice came through his in-ear communicator again. It was Heo Inna.

—Point 1456, detected a whitish creature ahead. Tracking… Ah, what the. It’s an egret. …Flying well, isn’t it?

Chiyeong smiled faintly at Inna’s exasperated tone. Come to think of it, he seemed to recall hearing that egrets were abundant on Baengnyeongdo. Park Hyeongin’s exasperated voice responded through the in-ear communicator.

—Inna, focus.

—Yes, focusing intensely… Huh? This time, I’ve found something really suspicious. Point 1498, I’ll move to the location where movement was detected.

—Authorized.

The last voice was Gi Baekhan’s. His voice resonated heavily through the in-ear communicator. Chiyeong unconsciously held his breath. What would happen if Inna encountered the unidentified Esper?

Thinking that combat might break out at any moment, Chiyeong nervously fumbled with the front pocket of his jumpsuit, checking for the flare he had brought for emergencies.

While there was no detectable movement or bio-signatures where he was, Chiyeong felt tense on Inna’s behalf, who seemed unconcerned. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his needless anxiety.

He wondered how everyone else endured the tense atmosphere. Even he, far removed and merely eavesdropping on their conversations like listening to the radio, felt his heart pounding like it would burst.

A bird of unknown species was singing in the mountains, now at the beginning of autumn. As Chiyeong pondered the types of birds that sang at night, a shiver ran down his spine.

A rustling sound came from the distance. Chiyeong held his breath and slowly turned in the pit, looking towards the source of the sound.

Like with Heo Inna, it could be an egret. Hadn’t he just heard an unidentified bird singing? Chiyeong focused his gaze on the distant rustling. Cold sweat trickled down his skin.

At that moment, a tremendous roar erupted behind him. Chiyeong saw his own shadow appear abruptly on the ground. Before he could even process what was happening, he reflexively turned his head.

A pillar of flame, larger than the mountain itself, was rising from the direction Gi Baekhan had gone.

A startled Chiyeong scrambled out of the pit. The ground shook violently, and another roar echoed. Tripping and falling from the impact, Chiyeong got up and ran without even registering the pain.

Even though he knew there was nothing he could do by going there, he was running before the thought even fully formed. Like the burning Tower of Babel, the pillar of flame showed no signs of diminishing. The surroundings were as bright as day.

A crackling sound, followed by a voice, came through his in-ear communicator.

—…stay here, right now… Hey…, who…

—…I’ll go and chec… Point 13…

The voices were too jumbled to distinguish. Chiyeong inhaled sharply. An acrid smell filled the air. It seemed like a rice paddy, not yet harvested, was burning. He needed to descend the mountain to head in that direction.

He was about to run without even checking his footing when,

“Where are you going, hyung?”

Chiyeong realized he was frozen in mid-air. His body wouldn’t move. His voice wouldn’t work either.

Then, as if granting him permission to turn his head, his head slowly rotated. Chiyeong finally saw the source of the voice that had called out to him.

“Hello.”

It was a small child. He looked familiar.

But no matter how much he racked his brain, he couldn’t place him.

He had felt this sense of familiarity recently. Where was it? This time, it came to him quickly.

It was at the hotel lobby in Seoul, this evening. Chiyeong, having bumped into an unknown man, had felt a flicker of recognition upon seeing his face, but it had been too vague, and he had just tilted his head in confusion.

The feeling was exactly the same. Now that he looked closely, the child strongly resembled the man he had encountered by chance at the hotel he had visited for the first time today.

Could that be possible? Chiyeong felt a chill run down his spine.

“Now you seem to be recognizing me a little.”

The boy tilted his head and chuckled. Chiyeong remained frozen in mid-air, as if all the physical laws of the world were holding him captive.

The boy before him seemed to be an Esper. The boy’s wavelength seeped out, expanding his territory. Chiyeong was squarely within the boy’s wavelength range.

“You’re quick on the uptake. Did I include that function too?”

The boy tilted his head again. He exuded a disgusting aura, like an ancient soul inhabiting a child’s body and mimicking a child’s behavior. Chiyeong involuntarily gagged.

As if even his gag reflex was suppressed, a retching sound escaped him, and he dry heaved a few more times. The boy approached and grinned.

“Do I disgust you, hyung? Why? My appearance isn’t that different from that bastard’s. Am I not pretty too?”

Then, a voice came through his in-ear communicator.

—Ahn Chiyeong!

It was Baekhan’s voice, searching for him. Chiyeong realized he was very far from the anchor point. How had he traveled so far?

The surroundings were quiet. The rising pillar of flame was gone. He couldn’t tell how much time had passed, or if any time had passed at all.

He felt like he was trapped inside a giant black orb. The dome-like space was encased in physical darkness. Strangely, the darkness had a tactile quality. And it was slowly consuming him.

How was this possible? He tried to sense Esper wavelengths, thinking it might be an ESP ability, but the only distinct wavelength he could detect was the one immobilizing him.

Moreover, he knew that all of this was the work of the man masquerading as a child before him. The boy praised Chiyeong, as if pleased.

“Good. You recognize me now, Sai.”

Sai…? The name sounded familiar. Chiyeong’s body began to tremble. He knew this feeling very well. It was the feeling of terror. Something etched into his soul was triggering this fear.

But why? What was he afraid of?

“I came to give you a gift today. Your younger brothers are probably exhausted now, so I’m thinking of giving it to you quickly and returning.”

The boy spoke in a world-weary tone, mimicking an adult’s speech, then suddenly grew taller, transforming into the man Chiyeong had encountered at the hotel.

“……!”

Despite the drastic change from child to adult, he couldn’t sense any other ESP wavelength. This meant he wasn’t an Esper with Persona ESP, capable of altering his appearance.

Then how?

Chiyeong couldn’t ask aloud. The man wouldn’t allow him to open his mouth.

A voice called out from the distance, calling Chiyeong’s name.

“…Persistent, aren’t they?”

The man smiled, looking towards the direction of the voice. It was a distorted, menacing smile, forced through gritted teeth. The man stared off into the distance for a moment, then slowly approached Chiyeong.

‘Don’t come closer, don’t come closer—!’

Even though he couldn’t make a sound, Chiyeong resisted fiercely. He felt a visceral repulsion. He didn’t understand why he felt such intense aversion to this man he had just met. Without knowing the reason, Chiyeong desperately wanted the man to stay away.

The man spoke, sounding slightly hurt.

“What’s with that reaction? It hurts my feelings. Anyway, I can’t stay any longer either. That one is quite powerful.”

The man pointed his thumb behind him. Something emerged from the darkness.

Thud—.

Someone was pounding on the wall of the massive, darkness-formed dome from the outside. The force was so great that the space trembled.

The man chuckled, looking towards the source of the sound.

“How ridiculously strong do you have to be to physically attack a psychic ESP?”

What? What does that mean? So, this giant dome is an illusory space created by psychic ESP—’ Chiyeong’s thought trailed off, forgotten mid-sentence.

As if he hadn’t heard anything, Chiyeong was once again preoccupied with the identity of the man before him. Someone pounded on the wall of the orb with a thud—.

Who could it be? Chiyeong felt dizzy.

“I should give it to you quickly and go. Your younger brothers are badly injured. I came to give you a gift. Don’t you feel bad?”

Even though he didn’t feel bad, he felt like he should beg and plead for forgiveness. Guilt, sharp enough to shatter his heart, welled up inside him. He didn’t understand why he felt this guilt.

The man smiled and touched Chiyeong’s lower abdomen, who was frozen like a deer in headlights.

“I wonder how effectively you’ll use this power.”

“…….”

“Next time we meet, I’d like you to tell me all about it. How you used this power, what you thought the moment you gained it.”

The man smiled, stepped closer, and caressed Chiyeong’s cheek. It was a tender touch.

Chiyeong looked at the man with trembling eyes. He looked familiar. His face resembled someone’s, close enough to be called brothers.

The man kissed his own palm, which had been caressing Chiyeong’s cheek, then rubbed his chin and smiled.

“See, I told you. I’m pretty too.”

Chiyeong’s eyes froze. He resembled Gi Baekhan. Not the wild, untamed beauty of Gi Baekhan. His features were softer, his eyes gentle.

But he resembled Baekhan like a brother. More so than even Baekhan’s twin sister, Baekyeon.

Chiyeong’s expression remained frozen, but his eyes were wide with shock. The man smiled, as if pleased.

“Good job. You finally figured it out.”

He smiled warmly, like a gentle spring breeze. At that moment, another resounding Thud— echoed from behind the man.

Chiyeong, forgetting his immobility, flinched in surprise. He realized then that he could move, albeit slightly.

The man, seemingly unaware of the change in Chiyeong, looked back and frowned slightly.

“Hmm, I really have to go now. One of your younger brothers just died.”

What? What was he talking about? Chiyeong was an orphan, alone in the world. He must have had parents, since he was born, but he didn’t know their faces or names. He couldn’t have any siblings. If he did, they would have been abandoned together.

But the man made a truly regretful expression, reached out, and rubbed Chiyeong’s lower abdomen.

Thud—.

Crash—.

Heavy sounds continued to echo. The man clicked his tongue.

“Do you like that savage bastard? You should like someone who treats you well. You used to say I was the best.”

That never happened.

Chiyeong didn’t remember anything, but he wanted to deny those words. The moment he heard them, chills ran down his spine.

Then, following another thud—, a cracking sound, as if the earth itself was splitting, resonated through the air. The man spoke again, his voice laced with regret.

“Next time, let’s try remembering only half. That’s enough for the doctor.”

The man called himself a doctor. Chiyeong frowned. Then, the man placed his palm on Chiyeong’s lower abdomen again. He rubbed it, as if gauging its location, and then pushed some kind of force inside.

“Ugh—!”

Chiyeong retched. Or rather, he thought he was retching. Something surged up from within. Was it the dinner he had eaten?

“Ahn Chiyeong—!”

A familiar voice called out to him. The man who had been standing before him moments ago had vanished without a trace. Chiyeong covered his mouth. Gi Baekhan was running towards him with a look of shock.

“Ugh—!”

Another wave of nausea surged through him. Chiyeong vomited blood onto the grass.

At that moment, he forgot who he had been talking to and what they had been talking about.

Only one sentence remained in Chiyeong’s mind.

“I wonder how effectively you’ll use this power.”

Another surge of blood rose in his throat. Baekhan was calling his name.