Chapter 13

Seo Ji-hyuk clicked his tongue in annoyance. He already had a bad feeling when he heard Kim Si-on had shown up, and sure enough, the Guide was clinging to Kang Yu-han like glue.

Even though he had expected as much, seeing them together, talking like that, irritated him to no end.

‘Do you like him that much?’

Seo Ji-hyuk’s eyes fixated on the back of Kang Yu-han’s head. The man had been standing with his back turned to him, fully focused on Kim Si-on, as if he had forgotten Seo Ji-hyuk’s very existence.

According to what he’d overheard, Kim Si-on had returned to find a suitable Esper match, and the odds of him matching well with Kang Yu-han again were high. Matching rates didn’t fluctuate significantly overnight.

If that happened, would Kim Si-on officially attach himself to Kang Yu-han? The Transition T/F had been launched as a two-man operation, but with an exclusive Guide involved, things could change.

Espers and their exclusive Guides typically spent 24 hours a day together. If Kim Si-on became Kang Yu-han’s Guide, Seo Ji-hyuk might have to endure watching them side by side all day long. Worse, there might even be orders for all three to deploy together.

“…Damn it.”

Seo Ji-hyuk muttered a curse under his breath as his wrist communicator buzzed. The Center Chief’s office was calling.

At the same time, Kang Yu-han’s communicator went off.

[Call—Center Chief’s Office]

Relieved to have an excuse to escape this frustrating standoff, Seo Ji-hyuk held up the screen to show Kim Si-on.

“Sorry, but I have to report to the Chief’s office.”

“Oh… I understand. See you later, then.”

Leaving the disappointed Kim Si-on behind, Kang Yu-han quickly turned away. He heard Kim Si-on call out a cheerful farewell, but he pretended not to hear it.

On the path from the research wing to the main building, Seo Ji-hyuk walked a few steps behind Kang Yu-han. Unconsciously, Kang Yu-han found himself tuning in to the sound of Seo Ji-hyuk’s footsteps. The steady rhythm neither closed the distance between them nor grew farther away.

When they got into the elevator, Seo Ji-hyuk finally spoke. Kang Yu-han braced himself, expecting something sharp and biting. What came out instead was unexpected.

“Kang Yu-han, does your Guide know you latch onto just anyone?”

“…What?”

“Don’t pretend to act all innocent in front of *my* Guide.”

The remark was baffling, but one thing was clear—there was venom in his words. Kang Yu-han turned his gaze to the elevator panel, noting how far they still had to go to reach the Center Chief’s office on the 15th basement floor.

‘Does he remember the times I guided him in secret?’

The only person Kang Yu-han had ever had any form of physical contact with was Seo Ji-hyuk. His first kiss, accidental as it was, had been with Seo Ji-hyuk. Every instance of guiding, veiled as necessary physical interaction, had been with him. From the day Seo Ji-hyuk first went berserk to just a few days ago, it was always Seo Ji-hyuk.

During those moments, Seo Ji-hyuk had been unconscious or too dazed to register what was happening. Kang Yu-han had been certain he wouldn’t remember any of it.

‘Could he have recalled what I did? Or worse, had he been conscious the entire time?’

The thought sent a chill down his spine. Watching Seo Ji-hyuk out of the corner of his eye, Kang Yu-han scrambled to find an excuse. His response here was critical.

“When have I ever latched onto anyone?”

“…Never mind.”

Seo Ji-hyuk shrugged, brushing it off.

‘Was he joking? Or just guessing?’

Kang Yu-han couldn’t tell. But since Seo Ji-hyuk wasn’t pressing further, he decided to remain silent as well.

‘I don’t think he’s caught on. It must’ve been a careless comment.’

Studying Seo Ji-hyuk’s calm expression, Kang Yu-han felt a bit of relief. The last thing he needed was for the topic to spiral further. There was no advantage to dragging it out.

Refocusing his gaze on the elevator doors, he failed to notice until they were about to arrive that Seo Ji-hyuk had been staring at him the entire time.

Seo Ji-hyuk’s gaze landed on the collar of Kang Yu-han’s uniform jacket. Whether Kang was oblivious or shamelessly flaunting it was unclear, but a reddish mark was visible on the pale skin of his neck, just barely hidden by the fabric. It wasn’t in a spot easily noticed by others, but to Seo Ji-hyuk, who stood taller, it was unmistakable.

It wasn’t the kind of mark left by bumping into something or a scratch. It was undeniably a kiss mark—left by someone’s lips.

‘Ha, look at you, all neat and proper on the outside, but no better than anyone else. Guess you were out grinding your hips somewhere while I was passed out, huh?’

The thought irked Seo Ji-hyuk even more, compounded by Kang Yu-han’s unusual demeanor today. He looked tired, his complexion pale, yet his eyes carried an inexplicable depth. It was obvious what was different—today, Kang Yu-han exuded a languid sensuality, like someone basking in the afterglow of intimacy.

For Espers without a dedicated Guide, it wasn’t uncommon to seek release through casual encounters. Once a permanent Guide was established, such urges were typically satisfied exclusively with them. But until then, unattached Espers often sought solace in one-night stands. Seo Ji-hyuk couldn’t help but assume that Kang Yu-han had done the same.

Whatever Kang Yu-han did in his private life wasn’t Seo Ji-hyuk’s business, but it left a sour taste in his mouth when his teammate indulged in such distractions during an active mission. The sight of Kang Yu-han earlier, with Kim Si-on fawning over him, only made matters worse. Seo Ji-hyuk was almost certain they’d end up in bed together soon—if they hadn’t already. For all he knew, the mark on Kang Yu-han’s neck could have been Kim Si-on’s doing.

That assumption had prompted Seo Ji-hyuk’s earlier jab about clinging to anyone, and while Kang Yu-han seemed to have settled down since, the hazy look in his eyes and the vivid mark on his neck persisted, drawing Seo Ji-hyuk’s unwilling attention.

*･☪D✶༄ ‧₊˚a⋰˚☆m✶༄ ‧₊˚

“I’ve called you to discuss the directives for the Variant detection operation,” the Center Chief began.

“Yes, sir,” Kang Yu-han replied, saluting crisply.

In contrast, Seo Ji-hyuk’s response was casual, almost dismissive. He barely saluted, his hands shoved into his pockets, standing with a slouch that bordered on insubordinate. Yet no one in the room dared to comment on his attitude.

The Center Chief cleared his throat, looking more somber than usual. As the highest-ranking official in the Seoul branch, every word he spoke carried significant weight. Kang Yu-han couldn’t help but feel both curious and uneasy about what was coming next.

Before the Chief continued, he asked, “So, how are things going between you two?”

“Terrible,” Seo Ji-hyuk interjected before Kang Yu-han could respond.

A sharp sting lanced through Kang Yu-han’s chest at those words, but he didn’t dwell on the reason behind it. Instead, he turned to glare at Seo Ji-hyuk, who returned the look with equal intensity.

“Seems like you’ve got a lot of complaints, Major,” Kang Yu-han said coldly.

“Of course I do.”

“Now, now, enough of that,” the Center Chief cut in, stepping between them with a look of exasperation. Despite being significantly shorter than the two Espers towering over him, he tried to mediate with a strained smile.

Realizing his momentary lapse, Kang Yu-han straightened his posture and apologized.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

The Chief waved it off, indicating it was fine. Seo Ji-hyuk, however, maintained his defiant slouch.

‘How did I ever fall for someone like him?’

A sigh escaped Kang Yu-han’s heart, if not his lips. Objectively, Seo Ji-hyuk was an impressive man—tall, broad-shouldered, ruggedly handsome despite his sharp features. But all those attributes were overshadowed by his awful personality, which was his fatal flaw.

Yet feelings didn’t adhere to logic. Even if Seo Ji-hyuk were crueler, more twisted, or more flawed, Kang Yu-han knew he would have fallen for him all the same. It was a truth he couldn’t deny.

The Center Chief continued, “Well, I’m glad to see you’re managing to get along.”

“I said we’re not,” Seo Ji-hyuk interrupted again.

This time, Kang Yu-han didn’t respond. Engaging further would only lead to more arguments, and it was better to hear the Chief’s instructions and move on.

“What are the orders, sir?”

Kang Yu-han asked, keeping his tone professional.