The esper in front of me is cautious.

That’s “caution.” However, right now, Taehun couldn’t guess why Ji Gwanyeong was keeping his distance. In some ways, it felt almost cruel. Just when he had mustered the courage to approach, Ji Gwanyeong was now looking at him from afar.

The esper quickly noticed the subtle stiffness in Taehun’s expression and offered a soft smile again. It was then that Taehun realized that Ji Gwanyeong had started speaking more casually with him.

…It doesn’t feel like we’re getting closer, but rather, it seems like we’re becoming more distant.

Taehun scratched his chin.

* * *

“Oh. Are you two getting closer now?”

Taehun awkwardly smiled at Miyeon’s comment.

Miyeon tilted her head slightly, puzzled by his smile, and resumed inspecting the pair. In her observant eyes, Ji Gwanyeong’s eyebrow twitched slightly. Miyeon had noticed the strange atmosphere between the two men right at that moment.

She had thought that since Ji Gwanyeong started speaking casually with the guide, their relationship had improved, but from what she saw, it seemed to be the opposite. Miyeon was sure that the reason was Ji Gwanyeong’s bad temper and twisted mindset. And she was almost right.

The esper was uncomfortable with Taehun.

The feelings Ji Gwanyeong had for Taehun were very simple.

He was the “owner” holding the leash of the monster—someone with a shallow affection, someone who was worth taking care of like a pet. That was Taehun. Ji Gwanyeong found him quite endearing and was perfectly willing to care for him. However, the esper’s tolerance only extended that far.

Ji Gwanyeong had strict rules about the positions of the beautiful owner and the monster. For a weakened owner to take off his thick skin and look into his mind was a clear violation of the rules.

However, Taehun, that man, was trying to easily tear apart the ugly, hard exterior that Ji Gwanyeong had painstakingly built up. Ji Gwanyeong couldn’t tolerate it. A fragile man who could easily crumble with the smallest gesture now crossed the boundaries of all the rules Ji Gwanyeong had carefully upheld. It made him uncomfortable.

At first, Ji Gwanyeong had almost exposed himself without any defense mechanisms, as Taehun’s innocent face easily unearthed his hidden thoughts.

The esper’s gaze lazily turned towards the guide. Taehun, making eye contact with Gwanyeong, instinctively looked away and desperately pretended to think of something else.

“…I will begin the inspection.”

Miyeon sighed softly as she spoke. The official records of Ji Gwanyeong and Taehun were treated as top secret by the center. Officially, they ended with a score of 151.2, and after that, the records were classified and treated as national special research data.

On this day, their pair had broken the maximum matching record.

‘171.8’. However, this was not entirely a joyous announcement. In contrast to the huge score of the 170s, the low score had also been updated. ‘65.7’. This was the complete opposite of previous tests, where the low score had been in the mid-90s. In fact, a score in the 60s would be considered normal for an average pair. But for Ji Gwanyeong and Taehun, it was different.

The newly updated low score, in a negative sense, clearly indicated the current situation. It was undeniably problematic.

“Did you two fight?”

“…No.”

“Not at all.”

“The machine says you two don’t get along.”

At Miyeon’s words, Ji Gwanyeong shrugged.

“Taehun, have we fought before?”

“…No.”

“I don’t remember us fighting either.”

As they began proper contact, their high score was updated, but instead of being supported by a mental connection, it actually faltered, causing a huge gap between their low score and high score.

Miyeon, faced with this unprecedented situation, held her head in her hands. Oh Yeon, who had been silently observing the problematic pair from a few steps behind, spoke in her characteristically cautious voice.

“Ji Gwanyeong. If this continues, the guide is the one who will suffer.”

The esper’s eyebrows twitched at Oh Yeon’s words. But that was all. Ji Gwanyeong calmly met the gazes of those around him, then quietly rose from his seat and retrieved Taehun’s outerwear, as if escorting him. Choi Taehun, barely managing to suppress a sigh that was about to escape his lips, got up as well.

And that day, Ji Gwanyeong and Choi Taehun made love.

The guide, his hesitation evident on his face, didn’t try to stop his esper. Or rather, he couldn’t stop him. As Ji Gwanyeong’s guide, this sex was one of his most important duties.

But Choi Taehun, who had never once resisted the guide’s “primary duty” in over twenty years, almost pushed his partner away several times during their encounter that day. It felt like an inexplicable anxiety was tightly constricting his heart.

However, the esper’s relentless thrust was faster.

“Ugh, ah, aah, ah, stop, Ji Gwanyeong!”

The guide, his arms wrapped around the esper’s neck, let out a whimper that was almost a sob. Taehun was more troubled by the fact that he was begging this man, who was the same gender as him, than by the unfamiliar sensation of his legs being spread open, the member thrusting inside him, and then lifted.

His vision flashed. The world went white for a moment, then blurred, showing hazy figures. Taehun instinctively clung to the body.

The sweat-slicked, hard body leaned in to make it easier for Taehun to hug him every time his hand touched him. Then, with a heavy sigh, he pressed his lips against the guide’s trembling face and body. Those ticklish kisses were Choi Taehun’s only support.

The gentle but not courteous act still filled Taehun with fear. The guide gasped and flinched.

“…It’s okay. Take a deep breath.”

Ji Gwanyeong murmured softly, brushing his fingers through Taehun’s sweaty, tangled hair. His flushed cheeks, his trembling eyes, a mix of pain and pleasure, his ragged breathing as he tried to follow his instructions, the feel of his firm skin as he instinctively wrapped his legs around the lower half of his body, the warmth of his inner walls as he clamped down on the member.

Sex with Choi Taehun was truly enjoyable.

Apart from the satisfaction of having a guide who was solely his, the feeling of conquest, seeing this tall man, who had never taken a man before, spread his legs beneath him, whimpering and clinging, was another kind of pleasure.

There’s no way there could be a rebound with this.

The esper thought. But, uncharacteristically, a nagging discomfort lingered in the back of his mind, a discomfort about the guide, who, unlike him, would suffer terrible aftereffects after sex.

Maybe it’ll be better this time. He wasn’t sure if it was rationalization or comfort, but the thought, which he’d initially brushed aside, was completely shattered the next morning when he woke up feeling good after their encounter.

The esper finally remembered Oyeon’s words, which he’d barely paid attention to. …And he remembered them with a sense of desperation.

* * *

Ji Gwanyeong is sitting several meters away from Choi Taehun.

The Esper, who was always neat and impeccable, now looks unlike himself, with slightly disheveled hair and clothes. His usual relaxed smile is nowhere to be seen. He even appears somewhat irritable. And the people at the center are watching Ji Gwanyeong and Choi Taehun.

“Heart rate is normal, breathing normal, body temperature normal.” “……” “The matching rate was off the charts, and the rebound is impressive. I never expected this shock.”

One of the medical staff at the center sighed, as if relieved. However, the Esper didn’t respond to his words and kept his gaze fixed on the man lying pale, not even flinching.

When the sex ended and they fell asleep, Choi Taehun had been fine. In fact, even though the sexual heat hadn’t fully dissipated, he was still red and pressed against Ji Gwanyeong. Watching that, Gwanyeong had fallen asleep contentedly. The stiff tension in his neck relaxed, and the awkward mismatch of something fell into place in a strangely harmonious way, making him feel the warmth of the other person, which helped him fall asleep—a state he never usually reached.

Of course, that feeling vanished when he woke up hours later. The guide faintly opened his eyes, and his lips barely moved. To a normal person, they wouldn’t have understood it. Fortunately, the Esper was there.

‘It’s… hard… to breathe.’

As the guide’s eyes closed again, Esper realized it instantly. He couldn’t have missed it. A sensation of intense heat, as if he had been burned, jolted through every cell in his body. The name carved on his back trembled. Choi Taehun’s body remained motionless. The moment Ji Gwanyeong realized this, he stopped breathing for a moment.

After that, the Esper’s memory became faint, like a haze of fog. He had absorbed too much information in an instant: Choi Taehun’s temperature, the faint wrinkles on his closed eyelids, the way to save him, the distance to the center, and every fleeting second.

“Could you step outside for a moment?”

Imi-hyeon sighed, as the medical staff, unsure of what to do in the heavy silence in the examination room, was at a loss. Oh Yeon, after dismissing the people, locked the door. Now, only Esper, the guide, and the center’s key researchers remained in the room.

“Ji Gwanyeong, sir.”

The Esper didn’t respond, remaining silent. He just stared at the guide, who had swollen eyes, as though that was all he could do, sitting there, motionless.

“Ji Gwanyeong!”

“Lower your voice.”

“……”
“Just answer the question.”

With a soft voice, Miyeon shrugged her shoulders. Oh Yeon leaned against the wall, silently watching Ji Gwanyeong, while the other researchers held their breath, afraid of upsetting the Esper’s mood.

“How far can a rebound really go?”

Seems like he’s finally willing to think seriously about it.
Miyeon glanced briefly at Taehun and then slowly spoke, her taste sour.
“Rebounds this severe are really rare. Unless it’s a special situation…”
“A special situation? What’s that?”
“……”
“I’m asking what it is.”

For the first time, the Esper’s gaze turned toward Miyeon.
His eyes now shone coldly, as if something that had been carefully crafted was stripped away. The sensation of her hair standing on end was something Miyeon, an Esper herself, was not accustomed to. Next time, I’ll definitely have someone else, like Yeon, handle this. Miyeon tried to speak calmly but ended up saying the words she had hoped to avoid.

“Perhaps it’s something like an unwanted relationship?”
“It’s surprising that some people even want to mate with such a ridiculous matching.”

Ji Gwanyeong’s words, which expressed the center’s Esper-guide matching in the most vulgar way, caused Miyeon to fall silent for a moment. Miyeon considered a more indirect way to phrase it but ultimately shook her head and chose to use a more direct term.

“It seems you don’t quite understand, but unless it’s rape, it’s difficult to have such a rebound.”

That was enough to make the mocking Esper stand up abruptly. The water in the cup twisted into a long, sharp needle shape.

“I’ll make sure you shut that mouth for good.”
“Oh, really, even from you, I didn’t think it’d be this easy!”
“…… Rejection.”

As Miyeon gripped the armrest of the chair, a low voice that seemed to scrape something entered the conversation between the two Espers. It was Oh Yeon, another Esper. The gazes of Ji Gwanyeong and Miyeon, which were on the verge of clashing, turned toward the expressionless man.

“What did you just say?”
“Rebound—Rejection.”

At Oh Yeon’s words, Miyeon’s eyes widened as if she had realized something. It was a symptom she hadn’t thought of because cases involving both a Name and pair matching were extremely rare. Not only Miyeon but also the surrounding researchers began to stir.

Ji Gwanyeong, feeling a strange discomfort, slightly furrowed his brow. However, before Gwanyeong could add to his confusion, Oh Yeon spoke first.

“The rebound that Taehun had, combined with your rejection, Ji Gwanyeong.”

“My rejection?”

“Yes, suspicion, exclusion, and rejection toward the name-sharer.”

“……”

“Once a name is involved, it’s poison.”

At Oh Yeon’s blunt words, the Esper finally showed a hint of his emotions. His slightly furrowed brow suggested some hesitation. In response, Oh Yeon, speaking with genuine intent for the first time since entering the examination room, opened his mouth.

It was a dry, cynical remark.

“You’re only thinking of using Taehun as a guide, aren’t you?”

The Esper met Oh Yeon’s eyes without confirming or denying the accusation. Miyeon, now fully understanding the situation, sighed softly and leaned her head back.

It had always seemed a little strange that Ji Gwanyeong, that arrogant Esper, wasn’t suffering from rebounds at all, but she had thought that the satisfaction of finally finding a guide had led Taehun to be accepted. But now, it turned out that this was perhaps even worse than the situation with Taehun. It was, in fact, quite despairing.

Ji Gwanyeong, that Esper, had fully accepted the “guide.”

He had no resistance to that relationship. On the contrary, he welcomed it willingly. Therefore, there was no rebound to carry. Now that he had found a guide who could match his twisted time, he was ready to utilize him better than anyone else.

The way he adjusted and gave up the distance he’d maintained in his daily life only in front of the guide showed an immense favor on his part.

But that was because Taehun was the guide.

It was only because Taehun was a guide that he treated him with such affection. It was like a light and shallow attachment to a beautiful and precious ornament. What mattered was the “guide,” not “Choi Taehun.”

…So why did the rejection start all of a sudden?

At that point, Miyeon was slightly puzzled. When they first slept together, the situation hadn’t been this serious. He was clearly conscious, and communication wasn’t an issue.

That meant there was one hint left.

The sudden drop in the low score. Something clearly happened between the talkative and troublesome Esper-Guide pair, and it was obvious that this event was the beginning of everything. Miyeon glanced at the monitor showing the guide’s condition and then tried to get rid of Oh Yeon, who was still creating a tense atmosphere with Ji Gwanyeong.

But before Miyeon could act, Oh Yeon spoke first. Her words were more provocative than Miyeon’s stimulating remarks, making them a far greater challenge to Ji Gwanyeong.

“-The deterioration of Taehun’s condition is entirely your fault, Ji Gwanyeong. Don’t even think about blaming Taehun’s rebound.”

Her calm tone conveyed the facts, but every Esper in the room inwardly screamed. No matter how strained their relationship, they were an unprecedented pair, bound by an extraordinary score. This score reflected the coordination between the two but also represented the inevitable dependency that an Esper would have on their guide. Even before confirming the match, Taehun seemed like the kind of person who would cause an accident if even a single wrong move was made.

For someone to provoke him with words like this… the researchers all regretted not leaving the room earlier.

Miyeon then realized just how angry Oh Yeon really was. After all, Oh Yeon had been watching Taehun since high school. As the eldest son, Taehun had followed Oh Yeon like a brother, and Oh Yeon had always looked after him.

Miyeon, feeling the deadly atmosphere between the two Espers, clicked her tongue inwardly. Though far more physically capable than the middle-tier Espers, Oh Yeon was an intellectual Esper. He couldn’t even compare to Ji Gwanyeong, who was overwhelming in the physical department.

…Still, that man is no ordinary person.

Miyeon quickly regained her composure. Usually, it was Oh Yeon who mediated, but now that the mediator had let go of the reins, it was Miyeon who snapped back to attention.

Ji Gwanyeong slightly furrowed his brows.

“Are you done talking?”

The sharp words, smoothly delivered with a sophisticated voice and gentle tone, were nothing short of a declaration of war. At the same time, the water that had seemed like a massive thorn split into short, sharp needle-like shapes. It was then that Miyeon realized the Esper in front of her, whose guide’s breath had momentarily stopped, could not be in a normal state. She had made a mistake. She had assumed everything was fine because it was “Ji Gwanyeong” and missed checking the condition.

The attack manifested by a physical Esper was a piece of their psyche. A sharp needle. That was Ji Gwanyeong’s state now.

As Ji Gwanyeong prepared to attack, Miyeon tightened her grip, ready to throw one of the medical beds.

Then it happened.

“…Wow.”

It was a small voice, barely audible unless one was paying close attention. But it didn’t disturb any of the Espers. Their heads, including the researchers who were Espers, moved in unison. The Middle-tier Espers and guides who were nearby also looked around in confusion. The needle-like water shards, making a sound like metal beads, fell to the floor in an instant.

“…Ji Gwanyeong… for real…”

“……”