Chapter 1

“No matter what form you take.”

The man spoke up to that point and then paused. Silence settled between the two.

After a brief hesitation, as though he had made a decision, he raised his head, meeting the other’s gaze, and continued.

“I love you.”

Silence fell between them once more. The man, frozen, unable to respond, took a step toward the other.

With a trembling hand, he reached out and cradled the other’s cheek. Tears had already begun to fall from the other’s eyes, a warm stream tracing down along the man’s hand.

“…Me too.”

As soon as those words, thick with emotion, left his mouth, the man pulled his lover into a crushing embrace.

“Then, we—”

Kang Yu-han turned off the screen at that scene. It was a film he’d watched over and over again. He knew the next line by heart. ‘Then, from now on, we’ll be together. I’ll make you happy.’ A cliché, well-worn line.

And as expected, the moved lover—or to be exact, the actor playing the lover—would embrace the man. Flower petals would flutter around them, and sentimental music would play. It was the film’s beautiful ending scene.

As far as Kang Yu-han knew, this film was from decades ago. Movies like this weren’t made anymore. There had even been a time when films had vanished completely.

There had been certain years which some referred to as the “Dark Ages of Modern Civilization,” drawing a parallel to the medieval dark ages.

For a while, he stared at the now-blank screen. Unlike moments before, when it had been glowing with soft pinks, the dark, lifeless screen now faintly reflected his own face.

Long bangs hanging over his brows, sharp, slightly upward-tilted eyes, and eyes so dark they seemed almost cold. This unfeeling black-and-white expression was all that filled the large screen.

With a short, quiet sigh, Kang Yu-han rose to his feet. It was about time to head out if he didn’t want to be late for the meeting.

The audiovisual room on the fourth basement floor, a place hardly visited by others. In the farthest corner of that room, there was a spot that Kang Yu-han particularly favored.

Creeeak— The worn spring of the old chair made a grating noise that echoed through the empty room.

Dusting off his perfectly tailored uniform, as if allowing not a single flaw, he straightened his appearance before leaving the room.

Since he’d been watching with the lights off anyway, there was no need to turn anything off in the audiovisual room.

The sound of his firm footsteps echoed down the hard floor of the hallway. Climbing the stairs, Kang Yu-han wondered to himself if watching a movie in this day and age was an excessive luxury.

It had been a long time since not just movies but even TV programs had disappeared. To be precise, non-essential shows like dramas and variety programs had vanished.

From dawn until late into the night, the TV channels continuously broadcasted special disaster announcements. It had been going on for nine years and nine months now.

“Citizens, please refrain from going outside and stay in a safe shelter. I repeat, we have just received reports of Variants appearing in the Jongno area of Seoul. Currently, three confirmed Variant individuals are reported. Citizens are strongly advised not to approach any restricted areas and to stay in a safe location….”

The announcer’s urgent voice was accompanied by live footage from the scene. It showed the Special Control Zone—a term that shifts slightly with each incident, but nowadays generally referred to the areas around Jongno, Eunpyeong, and Gangbuk.

Zoomed-in from a distance, the footage captured a being in human form but unmistakably something other than human.

They were known as Variants.

One day, ordinary humans suddenly began showing violent tendencies and started hunting others of their kind. Though they looked human, they failed to recognize even their own family or friends, attacking at random and mercilessly taking lives. Humanity had become its own predator.

The only force able to stop them was the Esper Units. These enhanced individuals wielded extraordinary powers to eradicate the Variants. For the first time in years, citizens believed peace had returned.

But recently, a shocking development had occurred: Variants nearly indistinguishable from humans had been discovered.

They spoke, and unlike typical Variants, they looked perfectly ordinary. In one horrifying incident, one of these Variants had bitten and killed a passerby in broad daylight, throwing society into turmoil once more.

Here, where Kang Yu-han worked as a guide, the Esper-Guide Center had shifted to a full, round-the-clock emergency operation.

By the time he reached the top of the stairs, he was on the first floor. A dim beam of sunlight filtered through the dusty hallway window.

After coming up from the dark basement, Kang Yu-han’s vision momentarily blurred, and he squinted before opening his eyes fully.

With a quick intake of breath, he climbed the remaining stairs toward his destination—the conference room on the third floor—his mind occupied by a single thought.

Just how much of a fuss would Seo Ji-hyuk be raising right now?

* * *

“I refuse.”

Seo Ji-hyuk’s voice was cold and unyielding, sharp enough to freeze the room’s atmosphere.

“Come on now, think it over one more time.”

The center chief, his hair streaked with gray, spoke gently, almost overly so, given his high rank. The odd thing was that, despite his seniority, he seemed far less authoritative than Seo Ji-hyuk, who lounged with a defiant, almost insolent air.

One leg was crossed over the other, and his chin rested lazily on his hand, a posture that in any regular military organization would have already landed him in disciplinary detention. But the officers, the team doctor, and even his own team leader all looked away, feigning disinterest.

While he might be technically outranked, Seo Ji-hyuk was an SS-ranked Esper—the kind of power akin to a nuclear missile, capable of pulverizing hundreds, even thousands of monsters in an instant. No one dared cross him.

From the moment the chief had scouted him, he had maintained a soft, accommodating attitude.

“I told you, I’m not doing it.”

Seo Ji-hyuk said this again, clearly, staring directly at the chief. Several people flinched, avoiding his gaze.

With sharp, piercing eyes, thick, upward-angled brows, and sculpted, chiseled features, Seo Ji-hyuk could easily be called handsome. But his gaze held such an intense gleam that few had the courage to look him in the eye.

“I’m asking you. I don’t believe anyone but the two of you could handle this task. So, Major Seo Ji-hyuk, won’t you consider working together?”

Ignoring the chief’s plea, Seo Ji-hyuk rose abruptly and strode over to the desk. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on his broad back as he rummaged through a drawer as though he was about to upend it. He finally found what he was looking for and smirked: an old-fashioned lighter.

Without hesitation, he pulled a cigarette pack from the pocket on his chest and lit a cigarette.

“What do you think you’re doing? You insolent fool!”

Captain Kwak, who had been scowling at Seo Ji-hyuk, was red with fury, veins bulging in his forehead. Unfazed by his superior’s outburst, Seo Ji-hyuk took a long drag from his cigarette, a satisfied smirk curling his lips.

“I’m sorry, but no matter how many times you ask, my answer won’t change. Besides, partnering an Esper with another Esper? You need to come up with something more realistic.”

The chief swallowed hard. The most important thing right now was gaining Seo Ji-hyuk’s agreement.

Seo Ji-hyuk, despite being an SS-ranked Esper, was a volatile case without a matching guide, a candle flickering in a storm. As an SS-ranked Esper, it was nearly impossible to find a guide with the strength to match his resonance and prevent him from going rogue.

Never having experienced proper guidance, Seo Ji-hyuk was teetering on the brink of losing control. For now, his extraordinary abilities kept him in check, but his body was accumulating impurities from his power usage, making him a ticking time bomb.

And now, instead of assigning him a proper guide, they wanted to partner him with another Esper—Kang Yu-han, of all people, his sworn enemy. It was no wonder he felt utterly outraged.

After all, Kang Yu-han was the one who had snatched away the one compatible guide Seo Ji-hyuk had ever encountered, the one who could stabilize him. Every officer in the room was aware of this history, and they all made a point to avoid Seo Ji-hyuk’s murderous gaze. Even the lieutenant assigned to the project was visibly trembling.

The chief let out a silent sigh.

Few knew the truth, but the chief hadn’t chosen Kang Yu-han randomly from a roster of Espers. It wasn’t simply because Kang Yu-han had a resolute and principled nature that he could potentially rein Seo Ji-hyuk in. There was another, far more critical reason—one that could never be disclosed publicly—why Seo Ji-hyuk’s partner had to be Kang Yu-han.

He was the only one capable of protecting Seo Ji-hyuk when things reached a crisis point.

However, Kang Yu-han’s true identity was a secret that could never come to light and had to remain concealed forever.

“I understand your reluctance, but the nation is in chaos. Your colleagues, neighbors—anyone could turn into a Variant and assault unsuspecting people. The senior council concluded that the most logical and efficient solution was to assign you and Esper Kang Yu-han as a team. Will you abandon innocent citizens over a personal grudge?”

As the chief’s tone grew increasingly stern, there came a firm knock at the conference room door. The precise, measured rhythm of the knock hinted at the controlled demeanor of the person on the other side.

Lieutenant Lee, looking like he had found salvation, quickly went to open the door. In his haste, he nearly stumbled, almost colliding with the person coming in.

At the same time, he could feel a sharp gaze fix on him from behind, and his body tensed instinctively.