“Lee Hansol. I feel sorry for you.”

“Me? Why?”

At first glance, the question sounds innocent, almost like the bewilderment of a child. Taehun, seeing this, felt a little regretful for bringing it up. However, Hansol’s soft gaze wasn’t as sharp as it had been when they first met, so Taehun gathered a bit more courage.

“I heard you were originally an Esper.”

Hansol’s face, which had been soft and clear, immediately turned expressionless as soon as Taehun’s words fell. Taehun swallowed dryly, almost reflexively, upon seeing his wax-like face. The atmosphere around Hansol had completely shifted in just a few seconds, to the point where Taehun almost wondered if he was about to throw the cola can at him.

It was a chilling face, one that made Taehun think that calling him “teacher” as his father must not have been for nothing.

“Have you ever lived as an Esper?”

“……”

“Have you ever lived as an ordinary person?”

The sentence was barely spat out, pressed by the strange energy around them.

However, despite his eerie expression, Hansol didn’t react much, simply staring quietly at Taehun, showing no clear response.

“You haven’t, have you?”

“……”

“That’s why I think it’s sad. It’s not pity. Pity is for those who are weak and unfortunate, but you, Lee Hansol, and your teacher, neither of you deserve that. ……At least, I don’t think so.”

Despite this being perhaps the most anger-inducing thing he had said, Hansol strangely kept a calm face. The guide felt a slight twinge of unease in his fingertips and, feeling the need to hurry, quickly continued his speech and walked off as originally planned.

The drinks they had taken out had warmed slightly from body heat.

After being left alone, Hansol remained crouched for a while, focusing only on the dirtied tips of his shoes, before slowly sipping the cola that Taehun had left behind.

A variable had arisen in the experiment.

The teacher sat, leaning back in his chair, eyes narrowed. He had been absolutely certain about two unchanging aspects of this experiment when he had first planned it. The first was “the monster,” Ji Gwanyeong.

<The Ji Gwanyeong who lost his memory never looks at Taehun again.>
That was his first certainty.

But now, that certainty had been broken. Ji Gwanyeong, with no memory and no matching connection, had chosen Taehun as his guide. He had anticipated that Ji Gwanyeong would come up with some sort of countermeasure, but the teacher hadn’t taken any action against it because he believed that a monster who had lost its matching rate wouldn’t be swayed by any emotional games.

He had been sure that Ji Gwanyeong would choose Hansol, who would achieve the best matching rate. But instead, Ji Gwanyeong had chosen the most inefficient and exhausting method.

“……Father.”

The teacher leaned his head back, staring at the owner of the voice that had called him. It was Lee Hansol. The teacher spun his chair around. Creak, creak, creak. The chair made an unpleasant noise. Hansol thought it sounded strangely like laughter.

“Lee Hansol, I really, really dislike being interrupted when I’m focused.”

“I know.”

So, until now, Hansol had never once interrupted his father’s time. Not even once. He had always quietly followed his teacher’s wishes. Hansol could not doubt or refuse that. After all, he had been created in such a way that he couldn’t.

“I have a question.”

“What is it?”

“Father, have you ever felt sorry for me, even once?”

The teacher’s head tilted at a right angle, and the light reflected off his glasses, flashing. Though Hansol couldn’t see his father’s eyes, it was easy to tell that he was carefully assessing Hansol’s intentions. The teacher liked to analyze everything and predict, storing it all in his mind.

Eventually, the teacher spoke.

“No.”

“Then, have you ever felt sorry?”

“No.”

The second answer came out even more quickly than the first. In fact, it came out so effortlessly that it seemed there had been no hesitation at all. Instead, Hansol became quiet, as though pondering something. The son, who had always followed his father since the moment he could perceive things, asked in a calm voice.

“Why?”

For the first time, the teacher’s lips, which had been straight and devoid of any expression, curled upward. Hansol thought it had been a long time since his father had smiled at him.

“Lee Hansol, you were created solely for ‘that.’”

Hansol knew exactly how he was born, for what purpose he had been created, and how he had been used. As the guide, Taehun had said, Hansol had once been an Esper. But now, if asked whether he had fully become a ‘guide,’ he wasn’t entirely so.

Though Hansol no longer matched with any Esper on his own, if he could take control, he could be the guide for anyone, achieving a higher matching rate than the original guide. In fact, right now, Hansol could produce an even higher matching point than when Taehun had the matching rate. All of his cells would respond unconditionally to the Esper paired with him.

In less than a month, the young man’s face, which looked slightly gaunt, now bore a faint smile. The teacher, watching Hansol, chuckled slightly, as if finding it amusing.

It was true. It was quite interesting that the young man, who now called him father, had finally spoken his own words.

Hansol could not defy the teacher in any way. The more he opposed his father’s wishes, the more his cells and organs would slowly harden like stone, until he could no longer speak, think, or act—this was what he had been made for.

Hansol slowly walked toward the teacher. The teacher, seeing this, began to think.

What is he trying to do?

What’s the reason behind this failure?

But Hansol, what he was trying to do wasn’t anything significant. Carefully, Hansol placed an empty soda can on his father’s desk.

The teacher frowned at the sight. Carbonated drinks like cola were bad for Hansol’s body, which was like a completely sterile culture chamber, or more specifically, bad for him since he had been created only for a high matching rate with Espers. There were only a few limited foods Hansol could consume.

He had always been fed only what could build the best possible cells. This was, for the created young man, the equivalent of an impurity.

“You drank something like this?”

“Yes.”

Hansol continued slowly.

“At first, it was really strange.”

“……”

“But later, it wasn’t so bad.”

The absolute master of this space, who created the bones, blood, and flesh of the center and finally even the young man in front of him, still doesn’t know what his son has eaten. This is because he himself is indifferent to his own creation.

Choi Taehun, indeed, became a serpent without intending to.

The small favor he offered was, for Lee Hansol, always an alluring and beautifully colored apple. It was something Hansol always wanted and found attractive, but it was a fruit hanging from a tree in the garden his father had made, a tree he couldn’t leave and could only look at. This cheap can of cola, available everywhere, was always something Hansol was curious about, something he wanted to know, but it remained just out of reach.

Hansol bowed his head to his father and left the basement.

Ji Gwanyeong had been sleeping more lately.

It seemed like he was trying to endure the complete lack of contact with his matching guide, canceling all his schedules and shutting himself inside the mansion. Choi Taehun was with him, having packed a few things lightly and moved into Ji Gwanyeong’s mansion. This place, filled with information about him, still made the heat rise to his ears.

In fact, Choi Taehun had hesitated at first.

Being conservative, he thought, “No matter how much it’s a same-sex relationship, cohabitation is still cohabitation.” But now, he couldn’t keep asking Ji Gwanyeong, who was slowly showing signs of fatigue, to come directly to his official residence anymore.

There had been a time when they had gone over a month without intimacy, but even then, at least light kisses or hugs had occurred. This was the first time they had spent time in a completely non-matching state with any guide.

Just four more days, only four days more. That’s all it would take.

But Taehun kept wondering if this was his own selfishness. He knew with his head. If he could at least have some light physical contact with Lee Hansol, it wouldn’t be as hard as it was now. As a guide, he could guess this.

But if he cut through those rational thoughts…

To be honest, he really hated it.

Just remembering the first day Ji Gwanyeong opened his eyes and saw Lee Hansol intertwining his fingers with the man’s made his expression twist in displeasure. His stomach felt a sharp, painful sting. It was then. His lips, which had been tightly closed, parted slightly.

“…Why?”

“When did you wake up?”

Ji Gwanyeong finally opened his eyes slightly. His face, completely relaxed, gave the impression of a predator showing its vulnerabilities.

Taehun hesitated for a moment, then gently arranged Ji Gwanyeong’s disheveled hair. What he liked about living together was that he could always capture his lover’s side, which he didn’t show to anyone else.

Ji Gwanyeong took Taehun’s hand, which was falling away from him, interlaced their fingers, and rested his forehead against it. Eventually, Taehun, who had been hesitating all day, tried to speak, making an effort to suppress a sigh as he fumbled for his words.

“…Um, Ji Gwanyeong.”

The loosely tilted head and the slightly unfocused black eyes were definitely not characteristic of Ji Gwanyeong. Choi Taehun swallowed for a moment before speaking.

“Are you really sure you don’t want to go see Lee Hansol?”

And in that instant, Taehun saw Ji Gwanyeong’s eyes, which had been unfocused, suddenly regain their clarity. It was a look that blended gratitude and a tinge of sadness.

“Not at all. Never.”

“…I see.”

“You may think you’re fine playing around with it, Choi Taehun, but I’m not. What’s so pitiful about it?”

What Ji Gwanyeong was talking about was something that happened a few days ago. The guide, awkwardly smiling, had their face come closer to Esper’s, and he kissed him gently as if scolding him. The sharp feeling of biting his lip made Taehun furrow his brows, but as his eyes widened, Ji Gwanyeong finally shook his head in a way that seemed to imply he couldn’t do anything about it.

“I’ll go get something simple to eat. Please rest.”

This was something Ji Gwanyeong would normally say.

But Taehun, until the matching rate was restored, was willing to take care of everything. Ji Gwanyeong, who had been watching his guide leave the bedroom with his eyes, sighed deeply as soon as Taehun disappeared from view, leaning back against the bed’s head cushion.

As Taehun had guessed, Ji Gwanyeong was like a glass of water on the verge of overflowing. To be honest, he had never been in such a state before.

Everything in his mind seemed to undulate like waves, and every image in front of him tangled and became disoriented. To be more honest, now even Taehun’s face sometimes appeared blurry and fragmented in his mind, an unordered rush of information.

Each time this happened, there was little Ji Gwanyeong could hold onto.

Taehun’s breathing, the sound of blood flowing, the heartbeat, the warmth of their skin touching, the softness of his hand gently caressing him. He had truly become entirely dependent on his guide.

Ji Gwanyeong was, in fact, surprised at himself. Before losing his memory, he had spent eight months with Taehun, but looking at it now, he realized it hadn’t even been a month since he had met him.

He couldn’t believe that with every passing day, every hour, and every second, he was slowly opening up more and more to this stranger. Was this really what it meant to be a “guide”? Esper found himself thinking this often as he looked at Taehun.

It was incredibly frustrating how he couldn’t control the pace of it.

No matter how much he understood his counterpart and how much Taehun, without question, responded with affection, he thought there was still time to get to know each other more gradually. But he couldn’t find a way to match the rhythm at all.

Ji Gwanyeong, sitting slightly slouched, let out a dry laugh. And at that moment, the phone, which had been silent for the past few days, started ringing.

He had strictly told his agency not to contact him, so there was no one who should be calling on this number, which was almost unknown. With his eyes closed, he reached out toward the sound and, holding the small device, hesitated for a moment.

‘Should I just hang up?’

Maybe if it were any other day, he would have acted without checking the caller’s identity. But today, strangely enough, he felt like checking, and as always, he acted on his thoughts.

The caller was from the center. Ji Gwanyeong raised an eyebrow. He would have preferred an oblivious call from his agency or even a spam call. But he couldn’t just hang up on this one.

He answered the call, not bothering to hide his annoyance.

“…Yes. What’s the matter?”

The voice on the other end sounded somewhat urgent.

As the conversation went on, Esper’s expression grew more and more displeased. Ji Gwanyeong sighed again. He had never been the type to sigh often, but recently, it had become quite frequent. He stretched his stiff body and stood up from his seat. The center was really troublesome. He, surprisingly, had the same thoughts as before losing his memory.

Toast and a salad with ricotta cheese. A little fruit, and even milk. Choi Taehun would whip this up easily while taking care of his many younger siblings. In a large family, it was always best if someone could finish quickly and vacate the spot for the next person during chaotic mornings.

However, Taehun, who wasn’t good at walking while holding a plate, carefully stepped and entered the bedroom. But the man, who should have been resting at the table or bed, was nowhere to be seen.

“…Ji Gwanyeong?”