No matter how far apart they were, the matching rate in the mid-90s clearly showed that Ji Gwanyeong and Choi Taehun were a perfect match. If it had been a typical day at the center, they might have even pulled out celebratory drinks for this astonishing result.

However, the situation changed when it involved that man, Ji Gwanyeong. If he were the polite, gentlemanly actor they all knew, the atmosphere wouldn’t have felt like a funeral. The problem was with the ‘Esper Ji Gwanyeong,’ whose true intentions were impossible to read.

He rejected all mechanical and ability scans from his body, making it impossible to analyze not just his weaknesses but even his strengths. He didn’t show any favor toward the center either. There was also no aversion to murder, and his methods were cruel.

Not only was his ability unpredictable, but his very thoughts were impossible to grasp.

If that Esper’s ability were used for the center and national security, he would be an invaluable ally. But if, after finding the perfect guide for a perfect pairing, he turned into a terrorist, there would be no way to stop him.

Even if they managed to stop him, the scale of the damage… it was better not to even think about it.

“Excuse me. Is this number wrong? It doesn’t make sense…”

The voice of the guide, who had rushed into the test room with a forced smile, trailed off as he noticed the researchers’ surprised reactions. Choi Taehun immediately sensed something was wrong as he saw the shocked expressions of the researchers.

A wrong number? What nonsense!

From the moment the guide was forcibly pushed into the examination room without any explanation after being rescued from the terror scene, he should have understood the situation. Taehun felt like he had somehow fallen into the role of a guide, a role he had long since discarded, as if it were his main life mission, and now he was standing on the edge of a cliff.

How many self-introduction letters had he written? How did he end up here? He had just started to adapt. No, more than that…

“Is it all over now? I’m not sure, this is my first time…”

The male Esper, right?

As Taehun watched Ji Gwanyeong, who was adjusting his clothes while removing the machines, he swallowed dryly. The Esper smiled gently when their eyes met, but Taehun pretended not to see it and quickly turned his head away.

Then, he raised his voice and asked Oh Yeon, feeling compelled to do so.

“Yeon, that number… what’s going on with it? I think something’s wrong.”

“…”

“Normally, the results don’t come out so quickly, right? Right?”

“Is it high?”

The one who added to Taehun’s question with another was Ji Gwanyeong, not Yeon. Thanks to that, Taehun’s shoulders trembled slightly. Of course, the Esper was watching every movement of the guide with a smile on his face, storing it all in his eyes.

For the first time, Yeon felt resentment toward the Esper who spoke in place of him behind Taehun. No matter how much it was his first matching test, the man who clearly noticed from Taehun’s reaction that the numbers were high was teasing him as if he didn’t know.

What confirmed Yeon’s thoughts was Ji Gwanyeong’s next remark.

“…It might be because of the name.”

Ah, certainly, this man has a bad personality.

Yeon lightly pressed his forehead as he felt a slight headache, something he hadn’t experienced in years. Ji Gwanyeong or whatever, even he himself wanted to return to his guide’s embrace.

Taehun, who had been trying to ignore the Esper, slowly opened his eyes wide. Ji Gwanyeong, like a broken doll, creaked as he looked at the guide from behind.

As Yeon had thought, this was a petty prank by Ji Gwanyeong. He had waited for quite a while until Taehun opened his eyes, and the Esper seemed to take a perverse pleasure in not speaking a word to him.

Taehun’s face showed pale shock, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. However, surprisingly, he didn’t feel the urge to twist his neck. Instead, when their eyes met, he felt somewhat better.

“I also have it on my back. ‘Choi Taehun.’”

* * *

Seeing the swollen eyes of his younger siblings from second to youngest staring at him, a small laugh escaped Taehun’s lips. As soon as he regained consciousness and moved to the matching test room, his family, who had been waiting anxiously, had been worried that their eldest might be seriously hurt and delayed.

“Ugh… hey, stop crying!”

“Choi Woojin, you’re making everyone cry!”

Woojin, who was attending a physical education college, was about the same height as Taehun at 180cm, but Taehun often jokingly called him a muscle pig due to his better physique. Woojin, regardless of what his older brother said, made sniffing noises as he hugged Taehun tightly. At the same time, the third, Seungyu, the fourth, Jihyun, the fifth, Mina, and lastly, the youngest, Jeongmin, also embraced Taehun.

Taehun gave a slight nod to his parents, who were wiping away tears, and mouthed an apology. His restless heart finally seemed to calm down when he saw his family.

While a heartwarming reunion unfolded in the center’s reception room, the atmosphere in the central research lab several floors above was plummeting.

“…Is Taehun bisexual?”

Although they knew the answer, this was the last hope they held onto when they asked. Yeon answered truthfully.

“He is heterosexual. In the previous matching tests, he clearly rejected male Espers.”

Yeon, as someone who had undergone the matching test with Taehun, knew his tendencies well. When Yeon, as Taehun’s guide, went to the test room when Taehun was seventeen, Taehun had taken a step back in surprise, muttering “Whoa, a man!” when he saw him, a voice filled with shock.

Of course, later on, Taehun didn’t strongly resist the male Esper tests, thinking that there was no way he would get a high matching rate, but it wasn’t because he was bisexual—it came from his resignation that high matching rates wouldn’t happen.

Miyeon pressed her temples as she sighed.

For a man who had lived his whole life as a straight person, telling him that as a guide, he would have to share a bed with a same-sex Esper like Ji Gwanyeong was a cruel task. Although Taehun, who frequented the center, would have understood the situation from the high numbers even before Yeon could speak, it was still I’mihyun’s responsibility to deliver this result to the guide.

She thought of Taehun, whose voice was slightly hoarse from years of smoking. Having visited the center since he was five, Taehun knew exactly what a matching rate over 150 meant. If anything, he knew too well, and that was the problem.

The perceptive guide probably already knew that he had no right to refuse this time. It was a number that had never appeared before. Once the physical connection was made and the mental rapport with the Esper began, the matching rate could easily surpass 150, potentially reaching a record-breaking high.

No, it definitely would.

Miyeon couldn’t even imagine how much her abilities would be unlocked if her matching rate with her guide exceeded 150. She had been content living with a 65% matching rate, and she had no difficulty using her abilities. But now, to think of more than double that number—she couldn’t even imagine how her sensory organs would react and move.

A ridiculously high matching rate isn’t always a good thing for an Esper. In fact, it was close to a number that could easily break the mind if something went wrong. Even though she was a Guide, she would still end up excessively dependent on another person.

With just a finger, she could issue a command to the ultimate human weapon, and as he said, make him move so easily it was almost laughable. The power had now fallen into the Guide’s hands. Ji Gwanyeong, a weak and ordinary man compared to him, was holding the life-and-death power of an immeasurable Esper.

The more she became accustomed to the shock of the number, the more Miyeon began to understand the meaning behind Ji Gwanyeong’s words about the collar. Her gaze turned toward the man sitting on the couch in the corner of the lab. Ji Gwanyeong was sitting with his legs crossed, eyes closed.

That Esper probably thought, just as always, that he had changed the rules of the game he controlled. He likely saw it as a game where he could easily break the leash at any time.

Miyeon bitterly smiled. Ji Gwanyeong. That man was only just beginning his time as an Esper.

Then, suddenly, Ji Gwanyeong’s eyes snapped open. His face seemed a little surprised, which wasn’t like him.