LLHT Ch 1.1

“Hey, Soju Glass. You far?”

“…I’m coming.”

Bastard. Calling someone’s name like it’s trash.

However, contrary to his harsh thoughts, Chiyeong carried the tray of food without expression. He moved busily back and forth, placing cheap dishes all at once on a stainless steel tray.

Chiyeong, with his neat appearance, had his hair grown out to his shoulders and tied back in a single ponytail.

It wasn’t grown out for beauty or tied up for style, so he looked rather unkempt, but because his face was naturally so refined, it only seemed like he was too busy to even tie his hair properly.

So, does that mean Ahn Chiyeong’s job is a diner auntie? No. If one had to describe Chiyeong’s job, it would be as a guide and errand boy for the anti-government militia “Iak Brigade.”

Yet, the reason he was called by the pathetic nickname “Soju Glass” was something else entirely. It was because the amount of guiding Chiyeong could produce was extremely small.

Guides have a fixed total capacity for producing guiding.

Guiding is produced in the manufacturing organs spread beneath the spleen and lymphatic system, and just as people’s abilities vary widely, so too does the guiding of guides.

Chiyeong was a guide with a pitifully low guiding capacity.

However, for the anti-government militia, which was always short on guiding, even that was something to be grateful for, so they went ahead and kidnapped the young Chiyeong.

Born because someone gave birth to him but with no parents to raise him, Chiyeong lived in an orphanage, enviously watching his school friends buy tteokbokki at the stationery store, only to be suddenly kidnapped.

From that moment, Chiyeong, now eighteen years old, had been handling both guiding and odd jobs for the Iak Brigade, the anti-government militia.

The further one got from government zones, the rarer guides became, but even in this neighborhood, many espers found Chiyeong’s guiding unsatisfactory, leaving him treated like cold rice his whole life.

However, life is unpredictable. For Chiyeong, who had a slight obsession with cleanliness and a severe avoidant attachment disorder that made him detest physical contact with others to the point of tears, this was actually a relief.

Espers, exhausted by his meager guiding capacity, had long since given up on bothering him.

And so, Chiyeong carried on. Food, soup, side dishes, even instant mix coffee for dessert. He had to do these menial tasks to survive in this wretched place.

“Look at how slow you are. Can’t you hurry up?”

Espers usually wanted to keep guides under their control. It was the same when Chiyeong first arrived at the Iak Brigade.

Some perverts, not caring that Chiyeong was young, would try to sweet-talk him, saying they’d bond with him when he grew up.

But all of that was before Chiyeong was rated as an F-rank guide.

The probing hands that had tested him withdrew immediately once they realized he was a worthless guide.

That was actually more comfortable. In this place, where trafficking captured guides was an established procedure, the espers didn’t even bother selling Chiyeong.

They must have thought that with such a negligible amount, selling him wouldn’t bring in much money anyway.

The once-thriving Iak Brigade had fallen into steep decline over the past three years.

Ever since the new brigade leader—Chunran or Chuguk, whatever their name was—took over, they had consistently suffered defeats.

Somehow, their guide trafficking operation, which had been a major source of income, was discovered, and their forced guide internment camps were raided, cutting off their funding.

As a result, the Iak Brigade, despite being terrorists, had been reduced to taking on manual labor jobs to make ends meet.

Whoever it was, having such a competent enemy was frustrating. For someone like Chiyeong, a parasite clinging to the lowest rung of the Iak Brigade, how was he supposed to survive?

In large-scale crackdowns like that, the useless tails like Chiyeong were always the first to be cut off.

However, instead of letting his complaints show on his face, Chiyeong quietly placed the side dishes in front of the esper who had been grumbling. The food wasn’t going anywhere, yet the way they shoveled it down was revolting.

Perhaps sensing the silent cursing, the esper glared at Chiyeong.

“Hey, why do you keep giving me that look?”

“…….”

Picking a fight over nothing. Chiyeong sighed inwardly.

It was always the same: the useless ones who couldn’t earn money outside and got kicked around everywhere would come back and take it out on their innocent wives or grab their young kids by the hair.

This kind of nonsense wasn’t new, so Chiyeong just endured it quietly. If he held his breath and thought of himself as a dried tree stump, eventually the storm would pass, and calm would return, wouldn’t it?

However, Chiyeong’s approach was far too passive, and today, with the Iak Brigade having failed yet another raid on a government logistics center, leaving them with dwindling rations, everyone was on edge during mealtime.

In a position where he had to read the room and grovel, Chiyeong should have been slithering on the ground like a snake, scavenging for scraps, but while he was sharp at reading situations, his social skills were not particularly impressive.

That’s why situations like this kept happening.

“Hey, punk, I said why are you giving me that look!”

As if he wouldn’t be satisfied until he landed at least one hit on an innocent person, the esper stood up, raising his hand high.

Getting hit on the cheek was one thing, but getting hit near the ear felt even worse—what could he do? Chiyeong was calculating the angle of the incoming palm when—

A deafening roar erupted. It was a sound so loud, like thunder striking nearby, that it shook Chiyeong’s entire body.

“What, what’s that—!”

Everyone looked up in shock. The ceiling of the Iak Brigade’s temporary hideout had been torn apart entirely. As Chiyeong watched the steel beams and slate crumble like paper, he crouched low, holding his breath.

The panicked Iak soldiers smashed glass with their rifle butts to press the emergency alarm, and a siren blared loudly.

Some ran toward the armory, others aimed their Tokarevs haphazardly, and some espers began summoning their abilities.

Taking advantage of the chaos, Chiyeong dashed toward the kitchen and hid under the largest of the supply trays.

While the quick-witted Chiyeong secured his safety, the Iak soldiers, who had been resting after their meal, collapsed like marionettes with their strings cut under the government forces’ surprise attack. They were utterly defenseless.

The siren wailed, and the sound of flying bullets was menacing. Those who died without even getting a chance to use their abilities piled up like mountains.

Chiyeong locked eyes with a corpse that had flown and landed right in front of his hiding spot.

Perhaps a Poisoner, the lump of hydrochloric acid he’d tried to spit out had burst inside his mouth before it could be released, melting half his cheek.

The green liquid, dripping and emitting smoke, was nauseating. Just yesterday, this man had been one of those taking food from Chiyeong.

“Ran, entry complete.”

A voice came from nearby.

Among the government soldiers clad in special forces gear, one stood alone in black attire.

A being whose very body was a weapon—an esper.

At the sound of those approaching combat boots, Chiyeong clenched his teeth.

In the Iak Brigade, all kidnapped guides were implanted with chips. If they guided any esper other than those from the Iak Brigade, the chip planted near their heart would explode, instanteously killing them.

But Chiyeong was different. His ability was so insignificant that they hadn’t even bothered to implant a chip. Chiyeong bit his lip hard. To survive, he had to make a decision.

He’d heard that the government forces were open to any guide who “wouldn’t explode,” regardless of their origins.

And so, Chiyeong squeezed out every bit of guiding in his body and radiated it.

Did that faint, dust-like guiding reach those polished combat boots?

“Peek-a-boo. Who are you?”

The other had noticed Chiyeong. In a clean, concise voice that seemed to fear nothing in the world, Chiyeong swallowed hard.

Was this what it felt like to face a mountain? It was as if he’d encountered a giant.

🚀

The Chunran Brigade, alongside the Dongjuk Brigade and the Chuguk Brigade, is one of the Center’s top esper units. Unlike the medical Dongjuk Brigade or the military secret police Chuguk Brigade, it is a unit dedicated solely to combat.

They were proficient in land, sea, and air warfare. No, they had to be proficient. That’s what Gi Baekhan, the leader of the Chunran Brigade, demanded.

Among the three brigades, the Chunran Brigade was responsible for frontal assaults. Their mission today was to eradicate one of the bases of the anti-government terrorist group, the Iak Brigade, and to sever and retrieve their connections to other bases.

Well, they did manage to retrieve something, but something odd came along with it.

“What’s that?”

“No idea. It seemed unclaimed, so I picked it up. Smells nice, too.”

Baekyeon asked Baekhan. Gi Baekyeon was Baekhan’s twin sister. Standing at 188cm, she didn’t seem much shorter next to Baekhan, who was 192cm, and like him, she was a cocky, high-ranking esper.

The siblings didn’t look very alike. If Baekyeon had a cold, icy beauty, Baekhan’s radiant appearance made people feel as if sunlight was shining just from his smile.

It was like seeing the sun god and moon goddess from ancient mythology.

The siblings were the leaders of the Center’s top teams, Chunran and Dongjuk.

Looking at his expressionless sister, Baekhan adjusted the guide slung over his shoulder to keep him from slipping, then tilted his head.

“A guide?”

“Seems like it. Clean him up, and he might be pretty.”

Baekhan chuckled. Glancing at his twin’s sly smile, one of Baekyeon’s eyebrows shot up.

What’s wrong with this guy today? Did he eat something weird? her expression seemed to say.

Baekhan wasn’t particularly fond of male guides. He’d never shown it, so Baekyeon pretended not to notice, but still.

His rare, amused demeanor was suspicious. Baekyeon clicked her tongue, holstering her Tokarev.

“If he’s got a chip, you’ll die the moment you receive his guiding.”

“No chip. I saw him guiding earlier.”

Baekhan licked his lower lip with his tongue. A faint irritation flickered across Baekyeon’s impassive face.

Even if everything was sorted, she wasn’t keen on watching her brother’s lust in the middle of a mission.

Baekhan grinned.

“Yeon-ah, can I take this one home?”

“You must like him.”

“Yeah. I like the ones who cry.”

Baekhan set the guide down in the tactical vehicle, brushing the dried tear stains on his cheek.

He’d hoped to see him bawling, but after shedding a single tear, the guide had collapsed and passed out.

The guiding that had faintly lingered at his feet was deliciously intoxicating.

Baekhan planned to take him and make him do it again.

This could be fun.

Baekhan grinned.

“Wake up soon. Let’s play.”

Then he tapped the unconscious guide’s cheek.

🚀

Baekyeon was both an esper and a guide. The only one of her kind at the Center. Her ability was mind-reading, an ESP that could peer into others’ subconscious.

“I could read him if you want, but you’d have to account for mental collapse.”

Should I proceed? Baekyeon asked, but Baekhan shook his head.

His glossy hair swayed with the motion. Looking at his twin’s gentle smile, Baekyeon quietly withdrew her hand.

Was there really anything worth digging into that small head with her ability?

They’d already interrogated a low-ranking Iak esper and learned that this guide was just tasked with menial labor.

Due to his weak guiding capacity, he couldn’t be expected to function as a proper guide—a low-grade guide.

Even if they’d just picked him up, there were standards to meet before putting him to use. He could be a spy, after all.

But his guiding capacity was so negligible that even that kind of use was impossible.

It felt fucking amazing, though. Absolutely killer. It was completely different from other guides’.

That tiny amount had made Baekhan’s lower abdomen tighten. Combat usually left him in a heightened state, not necessarily sexual, but receiving that radiated guiding had fully charged it.

He couldn’t help but wonder what direct-contact guiding would feel like—a natural curiosity for an esper.

Baekhan looked up, lost in thought. Seeing his gleaming, predatory eyes, Baekyeon felt annoyed, thinking he was having crude thoughts again.

Having finished his thoughts, Baekhan grinned at Baekyeon.

“Wanna go grab some budae jjigae?”

“What about this guide?”

“He’s getting glucose right now.”

Baekhan pointed at the IV pole, and Baekyeon, retracting the ability waves she’d released to read the guide’s subconscious, shook her head.

“You’re not planning to report this to the Guide Management Department, are you?”

“Maybe. Doesn’t Dongjuk have any open guide slots?”

“Cut the nonsense.”

Baekyeon narrowed her eyes, as if warning him not to mess with her unit, and Baekhan chuckled.

The IV drip continued to drip steadily.

Watching the yellow IV fluid flow through the tube into the guide’s hand, Baekyeon sighed shortly and asked.

“What are you going to tell the higher-ups?”

“Hmm. Maybe that I fell in love at first sight?”

Good luck with that, Baekyeon thought, looking at him with pity. Baekhan grinned again, his inscrutable eyes impossible to read. Baekyeon gave up trying to figure him out.

She wasn’t interested in knowing what her twin, now humming a budae jjigae song, was thinking.

“You’re paying.”

“Yeon-ah, I paid last time too.”

“Didn’t bring my wallet.”

“Proud of you, sis.”

Baekhan cackled, slinging his arm over Baekyeon’s shoulder.

Baekyeon glanced back. The guide, lying pale and unconscious, was weighed down by accumulated fatigue, unable to wake.

The dark circles and smudged blemishes under his eyes weren’t something someone his age should have, yet they were scattered like freckles.

That guide might not realize until much later that he’d been caught by a far bigger lunatic than he could’ve imagined.

Offering a moment of silent condolence, Baekyeon walked on.

🚀

Meanwhile, Chiyeong had woken up because he was too hungry.

“I’m so damn hungry.”

Muttering curses as he came to, Chiyeong freaked out upon seeing all the tubes connected to the back of his hand.

“What the hell is this…?”

Only then did he look around. It was an ordinary hospital room.

The difference was the guiding monitor placed next to his IV pole. That alone told Chiyeong this wasn’t a regular hospital.

Trying to recall why he was here, he peeled off the thin bandage securing the IV needle on his hand.

Diluted blood, mixed with the IV fluid, dripped onto the bedsheet.

His top priority was figuring out where he was. Surviving was the most important thing, wasn’t it?

The hospital gown rustled as Chiyeong moved. It had clearly been sun-dried for disinfection.

There was no way a hospital with such good welfare could be affiliated with the Iak Brigade. Those guys, who treated Chiyeong like a deadbeat breadwinner, would never provide him with such a nice room.

They’d be lucky not to toss his body in the hills, clicking their tongues and saying he was dead.

So, where the hell was this?

Trying to move quietly, Chiyeong carefully slipped out of the room. He was barefoot, without slippers, but there was no time to hesitate.

He passed a few medical staff in white coats, but their faces showed nothing beyond the exhaustion of working late hours. No one seemed to notice he was barefoot.

Only then did Chiyeong straighten up and walk confidently. In a place like this, the ones who looked suspicious were the ones who got questioned.

First, he needed to change out of this conspicuous hospital gown. Was there a locker room for hospital staff? He planned to steal some clothes.

Where was this place? If he’d been taken by government forces, it could be a hospital for guides.

Mulling over these thoughts, Chiyeong muttered to himself.

“…I’m so damn hungry.”

Even in the midst of this, he was starving. For some reason, he craved budae jjigae. He might’ve even dreamed of it while he was out.

Whatever the reason, it was only natural that Chiyeong was hungry. As a growing teenager, he hadn’t been getting enough food to match the work he did.

Fortunately, his inherited height wasn’t bad—over the mid-170s—but he was naturally thin and wiry.

On top of that, he was lucky to get one meal a day. He could barely remember eating anything before passing out.

Clutching his growling stomach, he moved cautiously, step by step, when he reached a corner.

Chiyeong hid behind the wall to check the surroundings, just in case. Nothing seemed out of place. He was about to move again when—

“Where you going?”

A voice came from behind. Chiyeong answered blankly.

“Wanted to eat some budae jjigae…”

“Really? I just ate some. The diner up ahead does it well.”

“Thanks for the tip… Argh—!”

Answering thoughtlessly to the voice from behind, he turned around in shock. Chiyeong blinked twice.

“What were you doing there? Playing hide-and-seek? You good at it?”

Chiyeong swallowed hard. Before he could identify the man, the man’s esper aura reached him, enveloping him.

It was distinctly different from other espers’ auras. If he had to describe it, it was like touching warm water—his skin prickled slightly at first, then gradually relaxed.

It was the kind of aura you’d feel from an esper with good compatibility.

“W-Who are you…?”

Only after speaking did he realize he genuinely wanted to know.

The man’s gentle, smiling eyes were beautiful. Long and slightly upturned, they were captivating, with a mole at the corner of his left eye.

Was that a tear mole? Chiyeong stared at it in a daze.

Despite his provocative appearance, an unapproachable masculinity emanated from him, likely due to the high, mountain-like bridge of his nose and his thick eyebrows. Yet, the full lips beneath them softened that impression.

He didn’t quite fit the mold of a mere beauty—there was something dangerous about him—but at the same time, he was too alluring to warrant immediate caution.

In contrast to his gentle-looking face, his sturdy shoulders, as if clad in armor, and his hands, as large as Chiyeong’s face, exuded the wildness characteristic of an esper.

As Chiyeong stared at the man in a daze, the man chuckled.

“Still thinking about running away?”

“…….”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“…Yes.”

“Shouldn’t you crawl back to your hospital room on all fours?”

“…….”

“Answer.”

“Yes…….”

The man smiled brightly again. He was skilled at smiling, and his smile seemed to come easily, almost recklessly.

As Chiyeong tried to recall who the man was, he remembered that this was the esper who had raided one of the Iak Brigade’s subunits.

Biting his lips, Chiyeong felt the man chuckle and grab his shoulder, swiftly turning him around. It was the direction of the hospital room.

“Who said anyone’s going to eat you?”

“…….”

“You slept for three days. How could someone so small be so exhausted?”

“Tch—Three days…?”

Chiyeong stammered in shock.

Was this a government military hospital? Hesitating, Chiyeong asked.

Even then, the man didn’t let go of Chiyeong’s shoulder. The two walked down the hospital corridor as if they were the closest of friends.

“Now, let’s hear our guide’s name.”

“…Ahn Chiyeong…….”

“Tell me your age, too.”

“Eighteen…….”

“That’s all you’ve got?”

The man stopped walking and looked down down at Chiyeong. Because he tilted his head slightly toward him, a shadow fell across his face.

The man’s eyes were fixed intently on Chiyeong. The flickering in his gaze felt like staring into the deepest, blackest part of the night sea, inducing a sense of nausea.

Chiyeong couldn’t tell whether it was the shadow cast on the man’s face from looking down at him or if the man’s eyes themselves held some eerie glint.

“I thought I’d get a taste soon, but what a shame.”

The man, licking his lower lip with his tongue, was beautiful to an almost seductive degree. Chiyeong could only stare at him blankly.

…Taste what? Didn’t he say he’d already eaten? Even in his dazed state, such questions surfaced.

The man smiled brightly again, pushing Chiyeong’s back. The eerie glint or shadow in his eyes vanished as if it had never been there.

“Well, whatever. Our dear guide, this big brother will protect you perfectly. If you grow up nice and strong.”

“…….”

“We’ll see each other then.”

The man looked down at Chiyeong again, grinning. The smile, with his tongue licking his lower lip, was far from innocent, but Chiyeong didn’t yet understand what it meant.

That was the moment it began. The moment Ahn Chiyeong started to love Gi Baekhan, the esper who had pulled him out of that hell.

Without ever dreaming that it would push him into another kind of hell.

Foolish Ahn Chiyeong.

Not pushed by anyone else, but lying down in his own grave—a low-grade guide named Ahn Chiyeong.

🚀

It was the morning of the seventh anniversary of that day.

“…Fucking hell.”

Chiyeong started the day with a curse.

He smashed the late-ringing alarm with his fist. The electronic clock, blaring bbeep-bbeep, toppled over from the blow.

He’d woken up before the alarm again today. The fact that his eyes opened before the scheduled wake-up time, even when he could’ve slept more, was infuriating.

Especially when it was only ten or twenty minutes early—it made his blood boil. Over the past few years, Chiyeong’s already poor temper had worsened significantly.

Well, there had been plenty of incidents to justify that.

But no matter how much someone hated their life, the morning sun rose impartially. There was no escaping going to work.

Chiyeong staggered to his feet and stripped off his clothes. He’d sweated a lot during the night, likely due to a bad dream, so he planned to shower first.

Half-naked, he crossed the living room to the bathroom.

He lived alone in the quarters. Usually, those assigned to a team used team quarters, but Chiyeong wasn’t a high-grade guide worthy of a team assignment.

Since most guides of decent rank had teams, the guide-exclusive quarters were mostly empty.

Chiyeong treated the quiet quarters like his own home. He’d stolen the master key from the security office and unlocked the room next door, using it as storage.

These quarters were his only source of joy. They were comfortable, and no one bothered him here.

Likewise, Chiyeong didn’t have to care about anyone else.

Loneliness was Ahn Chiyeong’s comfort and companion. Like familiar clothing, it was something he could never cast off.

After a quick cat-like wash and brushing his teeth, Chiyeong changed into the guide uniform for the public guiding room. From getting out of bed to finishing preparations, it took less than ten minutes.

“I fucking hate going to work.”

Chiyeong muttered to himself, a habit common among those who lived alone. Despite his words, he diligently tied the laces of his Converse sneakers.

While most guides in the Center wore combat boots, Chiyeong usually wore Converse or slippers.

With no assigned team, he’d never been on missions or training, and since his affiliation was with the guiding room, Converse sufficed.

Chiyeong checked that the door lock was secure before slowly leaving the quarters. A guide-exclusive cart, which constantly circulated the Center, was approaching.

At the guide quarters’ stop, Chiyeong was the only one to board.

The cart rattled as it looped through the Center. Inside were only guides who hadn’t yet been assigned teams.

They must be new recruits, chattering excitedly among themselves about meeting espers soon. Their lively banter was somewhat endearing.

In fact, Chiyeong did have an affiliated unit.

It was the Dongjuk Brigade, led by Major Gi Baekyeon, who was both a guide and an esper.

The Dongjuk Brigade consisted of espers or combat guides who had graduated from the special university’s pre-medical or nursing programs, holding licenses as doctors or nurses.

Though a medical unit, the Dongjuk Brigade ranked among the Center’s top three teams in terms of pure combat strength.

Chiyeong was part of this Dongjuk Brigade. Despite being a yawn-inducingly low-grade guide.

—This stop is the Public Guiding Room.

At the polite announcement, Chiyeong pressed the cart’s bell. He could feel the chattering guides glancing his way.

Public guide. Even the new recruits, fresh to the Center, understood the connotation of that term.

Chiyeong didn’t care and stepped off the cart. He could hear whispers behind him.

“…That’s the guy… abandoned… five years… F-rank.”

They’re only saying the truth. What clever newbies.

With an expressionless face, Chiyeong walked into the building housing the guiding room.

The weather was warm for the season when flowers were just blooming. The sticky sunlight still clung to his forearms.

Chiyeong walked slowly inside and opened the door to the public guiding room.

“Lieutenant Ahn’s here.”

“Hello.”

“Good morning, Lieutenant.”

He didn’t respond to the “good morning” greeting. For Chiyeong, there was no such thing as a good morning.

“The Major’s inside. Go greet her first.”

“Yes.”

The guiding room chief whistled and pointed toward the back with a thumbs-up. Chiyeong set his bag down and headed to the director’s office.

Knock knock—

A low “Come in” came from inside.

Chiyeong opened the door. He poked his head through the slightly ajar door and gave a quick nod, intending to greet and leave immediately.

“Good morning, ma’am.”

“I said come in, Ahn Chiyeong.”

“It’s almost time for guiding to start… Yes, I’m coming in…….”

When Baekyeon frowned, not tolerating Chiyeong’s reluctance, he immediately backed down.

When the higher-ups said jump, you jumped—no choice. Chiyeong stopped resisting and fully stepped into the director’s office.

Baekyeon glanced at him, then clicked her tongue.

“Have you eaten?”

“Just woke up, so…”

“Why are you so curt?”

“I haven’t eaten, ma’am.”

“You’re skin and bones. Does the brass have to chase you around and spoon-feed you to get you to eat?”

At Baekyeon’s nagging, Chiyeong deliberately let his focus blur.

By staring vaguely at her shoulder and glazing over, Baekyeon, annoyed at her subordinate who wouldn’t even pretend to listen, would stop nagging.

“Fine. I’m just hurting my own mouth.”

“…….”

“…You know why I called you.”

“I’m not sure, ma’am.”

Chiyeong scratched the back of his neck as he spoke. Despite having just showered, his short hair had already dried.

Baekyeon’s eyebrow shot up, but seeing that Chiyeong genuinely seemed clueless, she clicked her tongue again and continued.

“…Lieutenant Colonel Gi Baekhan has been ordered to return to the country.”

“…….”

As always, Chiyeong clamped his mouth shut. It had been a while since he’d heard that name. Gi Baekhan.

Seven years ago, Chiyeong had been rescued by Baekhan from the anti-government Iak Brigade.

“…If you want, I can send you to the Jeonbuk Center or the Gangwon Center. Or, you know, taking a break altogether might be good.”

Baekyeon, Baekhan’s twin sister, wore a bitter expression, her face tinged with concern for Chiyeong.

Chiyeong looked at her calmly, then shook his head.

“There’s no need for that. Rumors are the same here or there… I think I’ll be able to discharge soon.”

“Discharge?”

“I’ve been assigned a mission. I told the higher-ups I’d discharge upon completion.”

At Chiyeong’s words, Baekyeon’s eyes narrowed briefly. Even as she studied him, as if weighing something, Chiyeong just stood there blankly.

Chiyeong’s discharge didn’t depend on his own wishes. Higher-ups? For someone of Chiyeong’s rank and grade, the highest “higher-up” he could reach would be Baekyeon herself—so what higher-ups?

Chiyeong showed no intention of addressing her confusion, standing silently at attention.

Knowing that no amount of pressing would get Chiyeong to open up when he had that face, Baekyeon soon nodded.

“Do as you please. If it gets tough midway, say so.”

“Understood.”

“Get out.”

Without a word, Chiyeong saluted, turned, and left the director’s office.

Baekyeon watched him go, then pulled a cigarette pack from her pocket and put a cigarette in her mouth. She didn’t light it, lost in thought.

Chunran, Chuguk, Dongjuk—the Center’s top units.

Baekyeon was the leader of Dongjuk.

There was no need for her to take on the role of director of the public guiding room, where those with little guiding capacity left—either nearing retirement, too skilled to live as civilians but not skilled enough to be dedicated guides for a team—gathered.

Yet, there was one reason she took on the role. She felt sorry for Ahn Chiyeong.

🚀

Seven years ago, Baekyeon’s twin, Baekhan, had brought back a guide from the anti-government Iak Brigade.

Since it was rare for a guide not to have an Iak chip implanted, the Center routinely examined Chiyeong.

His guiding rank was F. In Center slang, a “candy wrapper.”

It looked pretty on the outside, making you think there was sweet candy inside, but when you opened it, all that remained was a wrapper with candy crumbs.

Despite such a negligible guiding capacity, the reason Chiyeong wasn’t recommended for discharge and even rose to the rank of lieutenant was solely because of Gi Baekhan.

In a matching test with Baekyeon, his blood-related sister, Baekhan—despite his S++ rank and constant guiding deficiency—only showed a 60% compatibility rate. But in a mock matching test with Chiyeong, he scored a 95% compatibility rate.

“Look at this, pretty thing. Hurry up and grow up so you can marry me. I’ll take good care of you.”

Pacing outside the matching test room like an expectant father waiting for his wife, Baekhan had been smug when the results came out.

Due to child and adolescent guide human rights issues, guides could only undergo a full compatibility test with espers after reaching adulthood on January 1.

It was an advanced version of the mock test Chiyeong had taken when he first arrived at the Center, and the results determined which esper a guide could pair with or bond with.

Chiyeong was able to take the matching test two years after arriving at the Center. During those two years, many rumors circulated.

Rumors that Baekhan would finally pair with a guide, or that he’d just use the F-rank guide for a one-night guiding session and discard him.

Baekhan hadn’t spent much time at the Center during those two years. When a civil war broke out in Eastern Europe, the military, greedy for profit, dispatched Gi Baekhan and the Chunran Brigade to the warzone.

Baekhan, sent out as a mercenary for hire, eventually returned victorious. Timed perfectly for January 1, the day his young guide would reach adulthood.

He’d even booked the bonding application and a suite at a Namsan hotel to bond immediately after the matching test.

After waiting two years, they faced a catastrophe that day.

“…What’s this?”

What Baekhan discovered was Chiyeong’s gender, written next to his name in the top right corner of the compatibility test report.

1. Male.

Upon seeing those letters, Baekhan stormed out and vomited on the spot.

His face looked as if he’d been doused in filth, as if he’d never been so insulted.

That day, Baekyeon had also been on a mission.

As a medical unit, they cleaned up the aftermath and returned a day later than the Chunran Brigade.

In that single day, a storm swept through the Center.

At the time, Chiyeong had been walking out of the test room with a face full of anticipation.

“Uh, where’s Lieutenant Colonel Gi…?”

Two years after being rescued by Baekhan, Chiyeong had learned to wear a fairly happy expression.

Kidnapped by the Iak Brigade just as he was beginning to understand the world after living in an orphanage, Chiyeong had spent his entire adolescence in places where affection toward him was minimal or nonexistent.

But for the past two years, Chiyeong had lived with the hope of becoming Baekhan’s guide.

Gi Baekhan, the leader of the Chunran Brigade—one of the Center’s top three units (Chunran, Chuguk, Dongjuk) and a combat unit—had chosen Chiyeong as his first guide.

It was a monumental event.

Overnight, Chiyeong became a celebrity in the Center. Wherever he went, people welcomed him. Such acceptance and affection were entirely new to him.

He was told to simply wait for Baekhan to return.

He’d only seen Baekhan’s face that one time during his rescue, and afterward, they’d only communicated through messages relayed by others.

Even so, Baekhan was a fairly kind esper. He sent gifts for Chiyeong’s birthdays.

Gifts from an esper fighting in a war far away were special. Sometimes it was chocolates in a fancy box, other times a limited-edition fountain pen from a renowned brand in war-torn Eastern Europe.

Occasionally, he sent women’s underwear, which Chiyeong had just assumed was Baekhan’s playful mischief.

And on that long-awaited day, Chiyeong had to face his esper looking at him with eyes full of disgust.

“You tricked me into thinking you were a woman?”

“…What?”

“I bet you’re pissed thinking you wasted two years on a guy with the same parts. You didn’t say a word when you got women’s underwear as a gift—were you just happy to take it? You pervert?”

“What does that…?”

“Hey, researcher. Cancel the bonding for today. Get lost. You and that guy.”

One of the bonding department researchers, dragged out to perform the bonding right after the test, turned pale under the pressure of Baekhan’s esper aura and left.

Chiyeong’s face was no different. Baekhan’s aura wasn’t that of an esper toward his guide. It was hostile and sharp.

Chiyeong, clueless, just stood there dumbly. As if that annoyed him, Baekhan grimaced, his beautiful face contorting.

As he strode closer, Chiyeong felt a shadow fall over him. Baekhan spoke, openly displaying a sneer.

It was absolutely not the kind of smile an esper would show to a guide on the verge of bonding with them.

“Fine. What’s the point of cursing you? It’s not your fault what you were born with between your legs. It’s my mistake for thinking you were a girl in the first place. Damn it, looking so confusing…”

“…Lieutenant, Lieutenant Colonel…”

“The bonding is canceled. Out of respect for the time we’ve spent, I’ll back you whether you leave the Center or stay. Don’t expect anything more. I’m the kind of person who feels nothing but disgust toward male guides.”

He said he’d mistaken Chiyeong’s gender. It was absurd, but for Baekhan, it wasn’t unreasonable.

Because Baekyeon was 188cm tall, Chiyeong’s smaller stature didn’t seem particularly large even for a woman.

Moreover, Chiyeong was quiet, and during puberty, his vocal cords had been damaged from abuse by the Iak Brigade’s espers, so when he was rescued, he had a voice that was thin for a man.

His scrawny, colt-like frame had filled out somewhat after eating well and resting at the Center.

But before that, his growth had been so stunted that his Adam’s apple hadn’t even properly developed. He was tall but lacked any masculine traits.

Even so, there was nothing about Chiyeong that should have led anyone to think he was a woman.

Only Baekhan had mistaken Chiyeong for a female.

Having barely exchanged a few words, Baekhan had claimed Chiyeong as his guide and left for the battlefield, naturally assuming he was a young girl who hadn’t fully matured.

He even thought Chiyeong’s flat chest was understandable given his scrawny appearance.

But the real reason he completely saw Chiyeong as a woman was his appearance. That was the biggest issue.

Baekhan found Chiyeong’s appearance dainty and pretty. That was something most people wouldn’t agree with.

Compared to Baekhan, Chiyeong’s appearance wasn’t anything to call pretty. He had a strangely captivating aura, but that was it.

Only Baekyeon agreed with Baekhan’s opinion. Whenever she occasionally thought Chiyeong’s appearance was dainty and pretty, Baekhan, somehow sensing her thoughts, would release a rather menacing aura.

It was an issue of possessive desire toward a guide as an esper, beyond their sibling bond.

But even she never thought of Chiyeong as a woman.

Dispatched to an entirely different country from Baekhan, Baekyeon had no idea what kind of thoughts Baekhan held about Chiyeong.

Though they got along well, they weren’t the kind of siblings who were affectionate enough to discuss each other’s personal lives in detail.

Moreover, Chiyeong’s long hair at the time of their meeting was also a problem.

The Iak Brigade’s hideout was in the mountains, and going to town to get a haircut was out of the question.

Too lazy to cut it himself, Chiyeong always tied his messy, long hair into a single ponytail.

Surprisingly, Baekhan, with his old-fashioned machismo, having grown up in a military family and spent his life surrounded by short-haired men, was prone to such a misunderstanding. Ironically, his own hair was long enough to cover his neck.

Despite all these factors, and no matter how beautiful Baekhan was, his size ensured he was never mistaken for a woman.

Chiyeong was the same, but Baekhan refused to yield even an inch on his stubborn misconception.

To him, everything about Chiyeong was misleading, and now that the damned misunderstanding was cleared, all that remained was to remove Chiyeong from his position as his guide.

Chiyeong was deeply shocked by those words. He could hardly believe what Baekhan was saying as he gripped his shoulder.

At that moment, a guide aura leaked out from Chiyeong. A strong aura, clear enough for Baekhan, who was holding his shoulder, to feel distinctly.

“What the hell! Get a grip!”

Gi Baekhan couldn’t let go of Chiyeong. The esper aura that had surged in anger became deeply entangled with Chiyeong’s aura.

If he pulled away, sparks would fly, leading to small explosions. Having seen countless espers and guides die from bursting blood vessels, Baekhan ground out a curse.

The aura grew more intense. Chiyeong still wore a dazed expression, and the guiding leaking from him was the purest essence Baekhan had ever encountered since awakening as an esper.

It felt like swimming in clean, clear water. The guiding resonated through his bones, climbing up his spine and electrifying each spinal nerve.

He was so affected that his body hardened right there, standing still. It wasn’t sexual arousal. His satisfied sympathetic nervous system was stimulating his body.

“You, damn…! Stop this.”

“Hngh…”

Before he could finish, the auras intertwined even more fiercely. A thrilling sensation pulsed through his palm.

It was a sensation dozens of times more intense than the euphoria felt during passionate physical intimacy.

Chiyeong was now on the verge of rolling his eyes back and collapsing. Baekhan had no choice but to pull him into his arms.

If he let go here, the consequences would be severe for both of them. Baekhan could lose both arms, and Chiyeong’s brain might burst, leading to brain death.

Baekhan ground out another curse. Though it was his first time experiencing this, he knew exactly what it was.

Bonding (刻印).

Without bonding drugs or the sexual intercourse required for bonding, Chiyeong had bonded Baekhan as his esper.

And for the five years since that day.

Gi Baekhan had endlessly despised his guide, Ahn Chiyeong.

🚀

Over the past five years, Chiyeong had endured all sorts of ordeals.

“So you’re that candy wrapper who thinks he’s hot stuff?”

Chiyeong wasn’t particularly cocky, but being an F-rank, a candy wrapper, made responding to such comments exhausting.

There was one thing Chiyeong learned only after the bonding.

Ever since he was very young, Gi Baekhan had despised male guides after being kidnapped in place of his sister, Baekyeon, by a male guide who targeted her.

With both parents being generals and espers, the kidnapper couldn’t starve Baekhan to death out of fear of repercussions, so he forcibly guided Baekhan against his will.

After that, it wasn’t that Baekhan specifically hated male guides, but he couldn’t stand a guide being “male” and guiding him.

Even his twin, Baekyeon, didn’t know the full story.

Due to Baekhan’s pride, he vehemently avoided exposing anything that could be seen as a weakness. There had been a few violent incidents involving male guides, but Baekyeon had assumed they were just Baekhan’s eccentricities.

To be fair, Gi Baekhan was an unpredictable lunatic by nature.

That unpredictable nature was why Chiyeong’s gender didn’t become a public issue for two years. Everyone assumed it was just Baekhan’s whims starting again.

Those around them knew Chiyeong was obviously male, but they never imagined Baekhan had misunderstood, simply accepting Chiyeong’s presence as unusual. Their compatibility rate was high enough to justify it. Espers are the kind who’d forgive even an enemy for a high compatibility rate with a guide.

Before anyone could notice something was off, Baekhan had been overseas on deployment for far too long.

Despite being a male guide, whom esper Gi Baekhan detested, Ahn Chiyeong was the unprecedented guide promised not just a pair but a bonding with him.

The reputation Chiyeong had unintentionally skyrocketed with came crashing down the moment Baekhan vomited over him.

Only then did Chiyeong realize the wings he’d been wearing were made of wax.

“Hey? You’re that, what’s-it-called, candy wrapper, right?”

What happened to the man who flew with wax wings and incurred the wrath of the sun god?

He met a tragic death. But despite facing the same tragedy, only Ahn Chiyeong couldn’t die and kept living.

“Let me take your blood pressure.”

“No, hold on. You’re definitely that candy wrapper.”

“Are you not going to receive guiding?”

“Ugh, so prickly. Is the service here always this bad?”

Is this guy crazy? Does he think this is a hostess bar?

Inwardly hurling every curse he could, Chiyeong remained expressionless. Guys like this weren’t rare.

After being rejected by Baekhan, Chiyeong had faced countless taunts and jeers. By now, he was too tired to even respond to them individually.

They say extremes meet.

If Baekyeon boasted the highest guide rank in the Center, a unique rank, Chiyeong’s rank was so low that no one else in the Capital Center held an F.

Normally, those with such ranks would shift to clerical or administrative roles, so guides like Chiyeong didn’t stay at the Center.

Despite bearing such a stigma, Chiyeong had to remain in the military. Though it was in name only, he was the bonded guide of esper Gi Baekhan.

“So if I get guided by you, I get to taste the same thing as that great Lieutenant Colonel Gi, right?”

The vulgar guy spewed filthy words every time he opened his mouth. Unable to flaunt his meager skills by clinging to Gi Baekhan, he probably took to harassing easy prey like Chiyeong for self-gratification.

Guys like this weren’t rare, and Chiyeong had experienced these situations so often he was sick of them.

Still, some days, he suddenly felt irritated. Days when he wondered why he had to endure this.

“If you’re not going to stay still, leave. If you’re not here for guiding.”

“Whoa, playing hard to get? Man, Gi Baekhan totally spoiled his guide.”

The rank on the chest of the utterly rude esper was, at most, captain.

A mere captain daring to talk smack about Lieutenant Colonel Gi Baekhan. I’ll make sure to snitch to the Inspector General. Chiyeong ground his teeth expressionlessly.

“Come on, let’s hold hands. Let’s get along, yeah? You must be lonely down there when Gi Baekhan’s not around.”

“…I’ll file a complaint with the Guide Human Rights Committee for sexual harassment and defamation.”

Unable to hold back any longer, Chiyeong spoke. Perhaps enraged by the threat of a complaint, the esper abruptly raised his hand.

Dodging the raised hand seemed impossible. The distance was too close, and there was no opportunity to move.

In that split second, Chiyeong recalled something.

That moment.

The moment when an Iak esper was about to slap his cheek.

The moment when Chiyeong remembered Baekhan tearing through the ceiling and pulling him out of that abyss.

But.

With a slap— Chiyeong’s head jerked to the side. Before the stinging in his cheek, sparks flew in his eyes. Chiyeong blinked a couple of times.

Right. No one’s coming to help me anymore. Not like back then.

Baekhan will never come to my rescue again.

🚀

“You’re hopeless, you know.”

“Yeah, I missed you too, my dear Yeon.”

Baekhan spread his arms wide, facing a heavily frowning Baekyeon. It was an invitation to hug, but Baekyeon stepped back with a look of disdain, as if she’d seen something utterly deplorable.

Coming straight off a military plane without washing, still in full gear, and trying to hug her. After months of trudging through the desert, his hair, once cropped short, had grown long enough to touch his shoulders.

He’d tied it back, and because of his pretty face, it looked almost like he’d carefully slicked it with pomade. But Baekyeon knew full well it was just matted, filthy hair.

No matter how long it had been since she’d seen her twin brother, seeing his grimy appearance made her want to punch him in the chest.

Baekhan, used to such cold treatment, grinned broadly.

“Man, I’m starving. Yeon-ah, take care of the cleanup for me. I’m in a rush right now.”

Baekyeon’s eyes filled with contempt as she looked at her brother, who lazily flicked his tongue over his lips.

“Disgusting. Go wash up and head straight to the Center Commander’s office. They’re waiting.”

“What, I bust my ass working, and the first thing I have to see is a bunch of old baldies?”

Baekhan shrugged. The battalion members unloading gear let out wry chuckles.

The battalion members, with a commander who didn’t even bother reporting upon returning to the Center, also looked exasperated.

Taking Baekhan’s place, who seemed interested in nothing but winning, Baekyeon organized the dust-covered battalion members.

All it involved was sending them back to the quarters to unpack and shower.

That evening, a welcome ceremony was planned for the Chunran Brigade, which had returned victorious after a long battle.

Conversely, there was a need to keep Baekhan from heading to the quarters. He was the type to act recklessly, and once he got to the quarters, he might not come out, ignoring the Center Commander or anyone else.

He might even go off to enjoy some casual fling, following the crude topics he’d brought up.

In the end, Baekyeon prodded Baekhan’s back with the handle of a military knife, steering him toward the Center’s public shower room.

Perhaps in a good mood from returning after a long time, Baekhan didn’t resist further and asked.

“A welcome ceremony or whatever? I’m hungry for something else.”

“Stop acting like a sleaze and go finish your report. Don’t make me say it twice.”

Baekyeon crushed the cup she was holding. Her grip was so strong that, since childhood, getting caught by her hand felt like it could rip your ear off.

Before suffering the same fate as the cup, Baekhan dodged with a yelp, laughing as he stripped off his clothes one by one and entered the public shower room.

His body itself was like a weapon. His muscles were sleek, like a leopard perched on a thick branch.

Baekyeon, kicking the tattered combat uniform that had turned to rags, sighed.

…This time, he’s probably going to try breaking the bond.

Thinking of Chiyeong, already skin and bones, wasting away further under Baekhan’s pressure, she sighed again.

He’s either tiny or a jerk. Thinking of Baekhan gave Baekyeon a headache.

“Is he crazy? How does that face look female! You made the mistake, so why are you taking it out on him!”

“But damn it, do I have to explain myself to you? Is it my fault he looks so damn seductive? All soft and delicate, like you could suck him up in one bite—so I thought he was a woman. It’s his fault for oozing that vibe, not mine.”

“Don’t curse. I’ll beat the crap out of you.”

“He seduced me first! Hiding that he’s a guy so perfectly! And we even bonded!”

Baekhan, unusually stable in his aura, was raging unstably. His eyes blazed with fury.

Or perhaps it was the bloodshot from the satisfaction of the bond.

While wrapping up her deployment, Baekyeon heard that Baekhan had smashed a wall in the guiding research institute and rushed back.

She’d assumed it was fine since he said he had a guide he wanted to bond with.

They didn’t usually talk much about such things, and Baekyeon was dealing with her own esper-related troubles at the time.

She’d briefly thought that once her work was sorted and Baekhan completed his bonding, they could stop by a pub in the Center’s commercial district after returning, maybe introduce their partners.

But that was it. Both Baekhan and Baekyeon were incredibly busy at the time.

She only learned through a report before returning that the guide Baekhan was bonding with was the one he’d picked up from the Iak Brigade two years ago.

Baekyeon’s first concern was for the guide caught up in Baekhan’s temper.

It was an accidental bonding. The academic community called it unprecedented.

Bonding without injection drugs or the mucosal contact—sexual intercourse—that allowed the closest connection between an esper and guide’s auras.

“Why did this damn special case have to happen now?”

Waking up after losing consciousness due to bonding aftereffects, Baekhan ground his teeth, saying he’d tear Chiyeong apart. He’d already smashed a wall before being restrained.

His eyes gleamed with a gruesome murderous intent.

If he’d been born in ancient times, his face would have caught an artist’s eye, becoming a statue passed down for thousands of years. The face of a war god from mythology.

His face, worthy of endless praise, was terrifyingly contorted, his eyes blazing as he chewed out curses.

Fearing he’d become the world’s first case of an esper killing their bonded guide, Baekyeon restrained him with ability-suppressing gear and tied him to a bed.

But even without the immense strength granted by his abilities, Baekhan’s raw power was monstrous enough to bend the bed’s pipes to tatters.

“Bring that guy here. I need to at least gouge out his eyes to make it worth my while.”

Baekhan growled until he was finally sedated.

Given an esper’s physiology, which detoxifies most poisons instantly, they injected enough sedative to knock out five elephants, but Baekhan, with dilated pupils, still managed to rip the bed frame apart.

In the end, Baekyeon knocked him out by striking his neck. Even as twins, she didn’t tolerate anyone touching her, so he woke up with a dislocated shoulder, but Ahn Chiyeong’s safety came first.

It wasn’t entirely for Ahn Chiyeong’s sake. Baekyeon had witnessed what happens when an esper loses their bonded guide during combat.

Baekyeon was a high-rank esper and guide, the only one of her kind at the Center, yet she’d been caught in a rampage that bent her femur backward.

During a black hole-like phenomenon, where everything was sucked in like a small star exploding, Baekyeon clung to a curbstone, her nails breaking as she held on.

Even with an esper’s fast recovery, her hip still ached when it rained.

She couldn’t let Baekhan end up like that. If he rampaged, Seoul, Gyeonggi Province, and half of North Chungcheong Province would be wiped out.

For Baekhan’s sake and the lives of countless citizens, such a catastrophe had to be prevented.

In the end, Baekhan was locked in a solitary cell made of cement mixed with ability-suppressing stones for a month after that day.

When his surveillance period ended and he emerged from solitary, Baekhan immediately took on a six-month deployment mission.

And when he returned, the first signs of Gi Baekhan’s rampage precursors began. On paper, Gi Baekhan’s guide was still Ahn Chiyeong.

That day, Chiyeong was sent into Gi Baekhan’s intensive care unit, where he’d lost consciousness.

With Baekhan’s esper aura raging in all directions, tearing at anyone in its path, Chiyeong had to walk into that chaos alone.

“Hey! Yeon-ah! Only cold water’s coming out here!”

Baekhan shouted loudly from inside the shower room.

Baekyeon didn’t bother responding and left the locker room, thinking she needed to prepare Chiyeong mentally.