Chapter 25

The investigation remained at a standstill for days. The lounge where the body was discovered was a CCTV blind spot, making it nearly impossible to identify a suspect.

Efforts to trace the victim’s recent interactions with those on the list of possible infected individuals yielded no significant leads. This suggested that the perpetrator might have no connection to the victim at all.

With no progress and increasing frustration, Kang Yu-han had lost his appetite. He wanted to skip lunch entirely, convinced that eating anything would just upset his stomach.

However, given the state of emergency, he couldn’t neglect observing the employee-dense areas, like the cafeteria. Alongside Seo Ji-hyuk, he entered Cafeteria C, the closest one to the lounge, and sat at a secluded table.

“Not eating?” Seo Ji-hyuk asked.

“No appetite,” Kang Yu-han replied.

“Typical. No wonder you’re so skinny.”

Seo Ji-hyuk scoffed at Kang Yu-han, who was picking at his food. Meanwhile, he himself was unbothered, eating a bright red soup without hesitation despite having seen the mutilated corpse earlier.

Kang Yu-han couldn’t even bring himself to drink water.

He had indeed lost weight. Always slim by nature, he had shed even more pounds since living with Seo Ji-hyuk. Whether it was from emotional stress or something else, the weight loss was noticeable. Even Dr. Yoon had expressed concern.

Physically deteriorating didn’t directly affect a Guide’s ability. Although stamina could become an issue during prolonged guiding sessions, energy levels—determined by one’s inherent grade—weren’t influenced by health. For this reason, Kang Yu-han didn’t pay much attention to his increasingly frail body. But…

“You weren’t this bad before. What happened?”

Seo Ji-hyuk said, clicking his tongue as he placed his hand on Kang Yu-han’s wrist.

Startled by the sudden contact, Kang Yu-han tried to pull away, but Seo Ji-hyuk held firm, easily encircling Kang Yu-han’s slender wrist with his large hand.

“Why? Does it hurt your pride?”

Seo Ji-hyuk smirked, seemingly mistaking Kang Yu-han’s reaction for embarrassment. In truth, his heart was racing as if he’d just sprinted, but there was no way Seo Ji-hyuk could have known that.

“Yeah, so don’t touch me.”

“Pfft. Scrawny as you are, you’re still an Esper, right?”

“What does being ‘scrawny’ have to do with anything?”

“Just wondering if you can even do your job properly as an Esper at night.”

“What?”

“You know—your Guide. Are you satisfying him?”

Heat rose to Kang Yu-han’s face. After a quiet spell, Seo Ji-hyuk was back to mocking him about his relationship with Kim Si-on. It wasn’t uncommon for Espers and Guides to act as sexual partners, and while some developed genuine romantic relationships, most cases involved Espers indulging in their Guides’ bodies. Even without a perfect match, repeated guiding sessions often led to physical attraction.

The irony was that Kang Yu-han had never received any form of guiding from Kim Si-on, making the insinuation particularly infuriating. Not that it would have mattered—Kang Yu-han’s feelings for Kim Si-on were nonexistent.

“Don’t ask things like that.”

“Why not? Is it personal?”

“…Why are you doing this? Jealous of him?”

The words burst out before Kang Yu-han could stop himself. He suspected that Seo Ji-hyuk might be sexually drawn to Kim Si-on after their guiding session a few weeks ago. That night, Seo Ji-hyuk had shown obvious signs of arousal, even resorting to self-relief in front of Kang Yu-han. It was undeniable proof of his heightened state.

“Do I seem like that to you?”

“….”

“Do I look like I want to sleep with him?”

“…Let’s drop this.”

Any discussion involving Kim Si-on inevitably led to arguments. Their dynamic was already strained, and bringing up the biggest powder keg between them only made matters worse.

With his appetite now entirely gone, Kang Yu-han drank some water instead. ‘Someone might think I’ve turned into a Variant at this rate.’ His disinterest in food mirrored the man sitting alone at a nearby table—Seo Ji-hyuk’s friend, Shin Kyung-jae.

Shin Kyung-jae was seated amidst colleagues, yet he wasn’t eating. He only occasionally sipped water, leaving his tray untouched. The peculiar sight piqued Kang Yu-han’s suspicion. Activating his clairvoyance, he focused on Kyung-jae.

As expected, all the Espers and Guides present had their defense mechanisms activated, preventing their abilities from being read. Except for one: Shin Kyung-jae.

What he saw made Kang Yu-han’s blood run cold. There were no signs of normal human biological patterns in Kyung-jae’s body. Instead, his entire form was shrouded in an ominous black shadow, signaling that he was anything but ordinary.

“The person over there—he’s your colleague, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I used my clairvoyance. Something’s off. He’s not alive.”

“What? That’s ridiculous.”

“No biological responses, and his energy is completely dead. Something’s seriously wrong.”

Seo Ji-hyuk’s expression hardened instantly. He too had noticed that Shin Kyung-jae wasn’t paying any attention to his food. It was a classic symptom of Variants. But the thought was difficult to accept. Only a few hours ago, they had been sitting together, chatting like old times.

The idea that a long-time friend could be a Variant was deeply unsettling. For someone like Seo Ji-hyuk, already burdened by the shame of having parents who had become Variants, hearing this about another close companion was unbearable.

“Are you insane?”

“No, I’m perfectly sane. There’s nothing more accurate than my eyes. I’m not a clairvoyant for nothing.”

“You’re just spewing nonsense. Kang Yu-han, can you even take responsibility for what you’re saying?”

“I stand by my observation. That person is suspicious. He needs to be investigated immediately.”

“Then do it yourself!”

“You wouldn’t trust the results if I did.”

Kang Yu-han’s unyielding tone pushed Seo Ji-hyuk’s patience to the brink.

“Shut up!”

Seo Ji-hyuk’s fist slammed into the wall, sending a cloud of cement dust cascading down. His breathing was heavy, and he hung his head low.

“Damn it…”

Kang Yu-han was right. If he conducted the investigation alone, Seo Ji-hyuk wouldn’t believe the results anyway. To resolve the suspicion, he had to see it for himself, regardless of the outcome.

Seo Ji-hyuk wiped his face with his hands and stood up from his seat.

“I’ll handle it myself.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“No. Stay here. If he turns out clean, I might kill you on the spot.”

“…”

Seo Ji-hyuk carried the second ampoule he had been issued, tucked securely in the inner pocket of his training uniform. Kang Yu-han knew this well.

‘Is he planning to use it? How does he intend to do that in a crowded place?’

Though he trusted Seo Ji-hyuk had a reason for wanting to handle this alone, the uncertainty gnawed at him. Kang Yu-han kept a close watch, ready to intervene if necessary.

As Seo Ji-hyuk approached the table of his colleagues, they paused their meals and greeted him warmly.

“Oh, Ji-hyuk!”

“Here for lunch, or just stopping by?”

Even Shin Kyung-jae turned to look at Seo Ji-hyuk. Up close, Seo Ji-hyuk could see the hunger in his friend’s eyes—not for food, but for something far more sinister. It was directed at him.

Seo Ji-hyuk gripped the edge of the table tightly. He had hoped he was wrong, but the predatory glint in Shin Kyung-jae’s gaze confirmed his fears.

“Kyung-jae.”

“Yeah?”

“Can we talk for a moment?”

“Why?”

“It’ll only take a second. Come with me.”

Seo Ji-hyuk locked eyes with him, suppressing the anger and frustration boiling inside. The unusual tension between them caught the attention of their other colleagues, who looked on with confusion.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“…Well…”

“Because you’re hungry?”

“How did you know?”

Shin Kyung-jae’s eyes widened unnaturally, the whites streaked with broken blood vessels. He let out a deranged laugh, his mouth wide open, saliva dripping messily from his lips.

“That’s right! I’m starving! How did you know? No one else noticed how hungry I’ve been! Ha ha!”

Shin Kyung-jae’s sudden outburst shocked not only his colleagues but everyone nearby. His eyes glinted with madness—not human, but monstrous.

Gritting his teeth, Seo Ji-hyuk shouted his name.

“Shin Kyung-jae…!”

“I’m hungry!”