“Could I please get just a few more?”

No, that muscle pig! Taehun swallowed a scream in his mind. Choi Woojin, with his solid, bulky build, scratched the back of his head, and his words somehow seemed a little naive. But what was important to Taehun right now wasn’t his younger brother’s simplicity.

To think that he was already calling Ji Gwanyeong, “Hehe, hyung,” while Ji Gwanyeong was tirelessly moving his arm like an autograph machine. The guide felt a chill run down his spine. Taehun couldn’t help but notice the strange expression on his partner’s face at that very moment.

In fact, Ji Gwanyeong had been a beat slow in realizing that Woojin’s “hyung” was referring to him. He had rarely heard the word ‘hyung’ in his life. His family ties had long been severed, and his college years had been consumed by his career in the entertainment industry, so much so that he had been expelled.

Taehun, realizing that this had gone far enough, was about to jump up from his seat to stop his younger siblings. But even quicker than him was the third son, Choi Seungyu, who had been watching their older brother with a confused expression for a while now.

Seungyu, who hated harsh words, muttered a few curse words under his breath so quietly that Taehun couldn’t hear, and then wrapped his arms around Taehun’s neck to pull him back into his seat. Thanks to that, the guide had to settle back into the couch, slightly off balance.

“Choi Seungyu?”

At Taehun’s confused voice, all eyes shifted toward the two brothers. But Seungyu could not pull away from his older brother. Especially not with his oblivious younger siblings around.

“Hehe, haha. Just one or two autographs~.”

“What’s going on, you creepy bastard?”

Taehun’s bewildered question escaped his mouth. But, as usual, the situation was more unbelievable on Seungyu’s side. Seungyu mouthed something to his older brother, trying to get the message across. ‘Hyung! Neck, neck, neck!’

“What?”

Taehun, usually quick-witted, couldn’t quite process it this time. Thanks to Seungyu’s nonchalant behavior, Taehun was now feeling the tension build up in his neck. But at that moment, Ji Gwanyeong, who had been moving his hand over the autograph sheets from a distance, subtly smiled.

Ji Gwanyeong understood Seungyu’s silent call perfectly, something the guide hadn’t noticed.

Seungyu, realizing this a beat late, couldn’t help but mutter, “Wow. Did he just smile? That’s insane.”

To Seungyu, who was four years younger than Taehun, his older brother had always been an idol—closer to him than even their parents. Taehun had always excelled at everything, from difficult tasks to studies, and even after growing older, he always looked after Seungyu as if he were a younger sibling.

Taehun had been the one behind Seungyu’s successful university admission and smooth military service. Everything had been paved by his older brother.

But now, for the first time, Seungyu had seen his one and only idol, his older brother, casually smiling with Ji Gwanyeong while putting his hands around his neck. It was enough to make him feel a little disgusted. In fact, Seungyu was the first to open his heart to the world out of all six siblings, and his strong sense of self had always made others wonder about his true intentions.

Yeah. He had always thought something was up.

He never really believed it, but his older brother was actually… with that guy…

“Choi Seungyu?”

“Hyung, I’m here. Stay with me. Stay with me!”

“Why are you acting like a kid now?”

Choi Taehun said those words, yet he relaxed his shoulders. As the eldest child in a large family, that was his role.

Seungyu, worried that his younger siblings might see the marks on his older brother’s neck, stayed close to Taehun while glaring at the man who, with a charming smile, continued to move his hand. Ji Gwanyeong willingly accepted the subtle challenge.

Taehun’s siblings all had very different personalities.

The one who most resembled Taehun was the youngest, Jeongmin, who was rolling his eyes while observing Ji Gwanyeong. Though his expression said “Wow!” his face shone with excitement without uttering a single bothersome word, mimicking the guide’s behavior.

Ji Gwanyeong, pretending not to notice that the guide was secretly watching him and letting out small sighs, quietly smiled.

The partner’s words were right. The “important person” had indeed arrived.

For Ji Gwanyeong, there was no guest more deserving of a warm welcome than these people. After filling up five autographs for Taehun’s younger siblings, he finally set down his pen.

Because of this, Taehun felt both happy to see his siblings after a long time and deeply worried. No, it was more accurate to say that he was afraid of the aftermath. After promising to visit soon, he sent his younger siblings away a little earlier than originally planned, of course, not forgetting to add his usual nagging.

The younger siblings, who had been pouting, asking why they were being sent off so soon, quickly got up from their seats the moment Taehun started lecturing them, “Choi Woojin, Choi Seungyu, Choi Jiyeon, are you studying for the midterms? I’ll check your grades. Minah and Jeongmin, you’re not skipping any academy classes, right? And if you’re not dividing the chores properly because I’m not around…”

Behind the guide, Ji Gwanyeong, who stood like a backdrop, waved his hand awkwardly, observing this odd scene. In an instant, the large residence, which had been bustling with visitors, became eerily quiet.

Ji Gwanyeong unknowingly thought this and let out a small laugh at his own thoughts. It seemed unlikely that he would ever think like that in the massive mansion where he lived alone, many times larger than this place.

But the one who felt emptier than Ji Gwanyeong was definitely Taehun. Although he had sent them off quickly because of his Esper, after seeing his siblings after such a long time, he couldn’t help but feel concerned when they disappeared from sight again. Ji Gwanyeong glanced at his partner’s strange expression and quietly asked,

“Are you tired?”

“What?”

“I thought you were in a hurry, so I wondered if you were tired.”

The guide, startled by Ji Gwanyeong’s words, quickly added an apology. It had been his fault for causing trouble for Ji Gwanyeong today.

“I’m sorry, I know it was quite a hassle today. The kids usually watch the dramas you’re in a lot, so they got excited…”

“It’s fine, really.”

“I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again next time. You only signed a few, but I’m really sorry.”

Ji Gwanyeong looked at Taehun, who was bowing deeply, with a long gaze. In reality, he was feeling the exact opposite of what the guide assumed. No matter how much Ji Gwanyeong liked him, hearing things like wanting to kill his guide and such made him uneasy. Sometimes, while focusing on the script, when he thought back to the moment when the disoriented Esper had been clinging to Taehun, he couldn’t help but feel a wave of irritation.

But today, the meeting with the little ones, who had some similarities to Choi Taehun, was actually a time that helped me relax—it was certainly not annoying. In fact, imagining the things they would say to me at the center soon felt much more exhausting.

Ji Gwanyeong himself found this slightly surprising. Normally, he would have hated spending time with strangers, but somehow, the time spent with them wasn’t bad at all. He vaguely suspected it was because they were Taehun’s family.

“Next time, let them score a bit more.”

“…What?”

“It seems like one of Taehun’s younger siblings really dislikes me.”

“My sibling? Who? Why, what’s going on?”

The guide’s gaze tilted down toward the deep part of Ji Gwanyeong’s clavicle.

Taehun unconsciously swallowed dry saliva at that teasing gesture. It felt somewhat embarrassing to act like this right after his younger siblings had been around. However, there was an important answer he needed to hear.

Also, “score more”?

Goodness, the politeness in Ji Gwanyeong’s words was too much. Taehun shuddered slightly as he felt the sensation of his neck being gently bitten, his shoulders involuntarily reacting to the touch.

“It must be because of this.”

Following the playful glance from Ji Gwanyeong, the guide’s eyes dropped toward his neck. Before long, Taehun noticed the many red marks on his neck. This was something that couldn’t be explained away by simply scratching or mosquito bites. It was obvious—that mark.

Oh my…

The moment when the secret of why Seungyu had hung onto his neck without letting go was revealed. Ji Gwanyeong, seeing Taehun’s face naturally turning red, quietly laughed.

“Don’t apologize like that. Whatever it is.”

“Still…”

That was a man’s straightforward remark, one who rarely bowed his head to anyone. Taehun tried to argue against that arrogant instruction, but the words that followed from Ji Gwanyeong were enough to silence him.

“Do you really think I would get annoyed with you?”

The guide, without realizing it, clenched his fist.

The man’s voice, warm only for him, carried a light laugh. Taehun couldn’t bring himself to speak, instead shaking his head softly. He couldn’t even meet his eyes. If he were to see the man, whose name was engraved on his back, smiling gently at him, he felt like there would be no other choice left.

However, Ji Gwanyeong had a bad habit. Before kissing, he always looks into the other person’s eyes.

…I’m really doomed.

Choi Taehun slightly parted his lips, willingly allowing the intrusion of his one and only Esper, and thought to himself.

* * *

It wasn’t just a mistake that the familiar faces at the center looked somewhat worn out today.

Moreover, today, the meeting room wasn’t just filled with familiar researchers like Miyeon or Oh Yeon, but even the director had personally come down. The director of the Esper-Guides National Research Center, she was one of the most prominent Espers in the intelligence field. Reaching the position of director in her late forties spoke volumes about her ability.

Choi Taehun rubbed his palms, which had grown tense, as he observed the director’s stiff expression. Though he had frequented the center since he was a child, he had no significant connection with the director.

Since Taehun was old enough to discern things, she had already been a senior researcher, and after becoming an adult, he had only seen her from afar during the center’s major events. The most recent time he had seen her was during a minister’s visit to the center—needless to say, they hadn’t spoken much.

Director Kwon Dahee, with a slightly bored expression, tapped her finger rhythmically on the desk. Tap, tap, tap!

The guide could not help but roll his eyes, as it felt like a reprimand aimed directly at him. This was understandable, as all the top officials in the center had gathered here, waiting for the presence of just one Esper.

Choi Taehun, burdened with the responsibility of having this person as his partner, was overwhelmed with anxiety.

‘When I call, you’ll say your name hurts! Was that a complete lie?’

The guide desperately sought the man he had shared a name with in his mind.

Ji Gwanyeong, Ji Gwanyeong, Ji Gwanyeong, Ji Gwanyeong. Crazy Ji Gwanyeong. Damn Ji Gwanyeong. Please hurry and come. The Esper had suddenly informed him with a text saying he would come after finishing a prolonged drama shoot.

When Miyeon said those words with a face that looked like it might collapse, Taehun wanted to find a hole to crawl into. Oh my, how could a person like me fall for such a shameless man?

Taehun’s eyes were filled with anxiety as he glanced at his wristwatch. Forty minutes had already passed from the originally scheduled time. This was truly maddening. As time ticked on, his complexion paled. Miyeon and Oh Yeon, sitting not too far away, noticed this and sighed quietly.

Fortunately or unfortunately, Ji Gwanyeong appeared before an hour had passed. Despite being late and wearing a very displeased expression, holding an iced Americano in one hand, he showed up.

He didn’t even apologize but instead walked straight to the guide as soon as he entered the meeting room, showing his frustration with a slight frown.

“Choi Taehun, it hurts, so don’t overdo it.”

“…Ha. Haha. Ha….”

Thanks to that conversation, which only the two of them could understand, the researchers’ eyes widened in surprise. In that moment, the guide seriously wanted to strangle that proud neck.

However, Choi Taehun suppressed that murderous intent and swiftly kicked Ji Gwanyeong’s shin. Truly, a guide with a grip on the monster’s leash. Taehun glanced at his Esper, who seemed to ask, “Did you just kick me?” with wide eyes, and forced a smile.

That was the face of a true professional.

Once the most important final witness was seated, everything moved swiftly. The lights in the meeting room were turned off, and the projector flickered on. Taehun swallowed dry saliva as he watched Oh Yeon walk out with a straight posture.

On one side of the meeting room sat his guide, Park Seungwon, with a somewhat cold expression on his face. This was the first time Taehun had seen Park Seungwon with such a face. Unlike the always taciturn Oh Yeon, Seungwon had been the type to laugh and squint his eyes.

But today, the energy coming from that pair felt unusual.

“…Let’s begin.”

However, Ji Gwanyeong didn’t seem to care about the serious atmosphere. With a face that said, “Why should I care?”, he watched his tense guide closely.

It was true that Choi Taehun was too “nice.”

In fact, he had never really liked the word nice until now. He thought it was synonymous with foolish. However, the words that could describe Choi Taehun were always something like that.
“Straightforward,” “righteous,” “good” — his guide.

The Esper quietly intertwined his fingers with his guide’s nervous hand. When Taehun was anxious, his palms would get slightly damp. And so, every time, he tried to avoid physical contact, but truthfully, he didn’t mind it too much. Gwanyeong held on tightly, not letting Taehun pull his hand away, while gently drawing shapes with his thumb. Taehun’s heartbeat quickened a little.

“This is the CCTV footage of Esper Oh Jinwoo and his guide Lee Hansol, who appeared on XX date in Itaewon-dong, Yongsan-gu.”

The voice, rough and almost metallic, sounded even more raspy than usual. Taehun tried to focus his attention on the screen to avoid thinking about the man who was fiddling with his hand. This was the first time he could see the face of the Esper who had grabbed him in Itaewon.

The face in the rectangular ID photo frame looked much healthier and more vibrant than what he had seen recently.

Taehun listened closely to Oh Yeon’s words.
“These individuals are directly connected to the murder of a guide who was affiliated with the center 10 years ago. They have been suspected of being involved in various terror activities, both directly and indirectly, and for the first time, their appearance has been captured. Given the circumstances of this case, it seems that Esper… Oh Jinwoo, has partnered with guide Lee Hansol.”

Lee Hansol.
Choi Taehun couldn’t tear his eyes away from the photo of a young man, whose delicate lines filled the screen, until he finally understood what Yeon had said. “The 10-year-old case involving the murder of a guide at the center.” That was a case Taehun was familiar with.

In fact, anyone affiliated with the center could not possibly be unaware of it. It had happened when Taehun was in high school — a guide at the center had been horrifically killed by an outsider. Because of that incident, all matching tests were suspended for several months.

And now, this pair was connected to that 10-year-old case?
Taehun felt a chill down his spine and unconsciously tightened his grip on the Esper’s hand.

The Esper, feeling that, relaxed his face slightly, as if it was comforting. But separate from that, Ji Gwanyeong was the only one in the room who didn’t know about the “10-year-old incident.”

“What’s this 10-year-old case?”

“It’s the incident where a guide from the center was murdered by an outsider within the center. After that, the center’s security codes were changed every two hours…”

“Haha, that’s not what I want to know. Don’t dodge the question if you already know it.”

Ji Gwanyeong’s eyes narrowed with a sly smile. Taehun frowned slightly at the unusual sharpness behind his pair’s words, though it was nothing compared to the feelings of the other researchers.

Miyeon bit her lip, worry evident in her eyes. Ji Gwanyeong, a strong Esper to this degree, had clearly sensed something was wrong with Oh Yeon long ago.

It was true.
Ji Gwanyeong had noticed right away that Oh Yeon’s heart was beating much faster than usual and that he was hesitating and stammering more than usual. The Esper, who had remained calm and unfazed even when Taehun broke through the training room and attacked the control room, was now trembling over a simple briefing.

That meant the problem lay elsewhere.

“I want to know how Esper Oh Jinwoo is connected to the 10-year-old case,”
“……”

“I’m curious about the relationship between that person and ‘Researcher Oh Yeon.’”

Choi Taehun’s eyes widened. It was a center he had been familiar with since childhood, but he had never heard such a story. The 10-year-old incident was only mentioned vaguely, like “a guide was murdered within the center.” Taehun clearly remembered the day he first met Oh Yeon when he was in high school.

“A serious-looking, awkward older guy.”
That was his first impression of Oh Yeon. Of course, their matching rate was the worst, barely over 10%. The guide, recalling his distant memories, eventually succeeded in remembering one particular detail.

Oh Yeon, whom he had first met and become acquainted with, suddenly disappeared the following year, saying he was going abroad for studies without even saying goodbye. Taehun vaguely remembered feeling quite hurt at that time. After parting ways with Oh Yeon, Taehun only met him again when he turned twenty.

The guide stared blankly at Oh Yeon, who was biting his lip in frustration. It was the first time he had seen him look like that.

“The Esper who was murdered 10 years ago was… Oh Jinwoo. Oh Jinwoo is believed to have participated in the murder orchestrated by Lee Hansol.”

“……”

“The Esper, Oh Jinwoo, is…”

The words that came out of his mouth felt as if he was saying something he didn’t want to say, and every word carried deep emotion. Taehun could clearly sense that what was reflected in those restless eyes was not a warm color.

“He is my blood-related Esper.”

“Blood-related?”

“…He’s my younger brother.”

Taehun, as if telling him to stop, pulled his Esper’s hand. But Ji Gwanyeong had no intention of letting this slide. The personal story behind the researcher in front of him wasn’t important to him at all.

In any case, Oh Jinwoo was a guide who had said nonsense like threatening to kill Taehun and had suppressed him right in front of Taehun. Whatever the information was, Ji Gwanyeong needed to know it.

“A family member of a center researcher is holding a guide from the center hostage. This is not a normal situation.”

“I’ll correct that. ‘He was my younger brother.’”

“So, what, are you asking me to understand and let it go?”

“Rather, I want you, Ji Gwanyeong, to do something! Either grab him and drag him here, or beat him to death!”

A loud bang echoed as a podium was struck forcefully. The hoarse voice, now tinged with veins popping, almost sounded like a cry of desperation.
Taehun held his breath for a moment, then finally exhaled it in a rush. The others, equally overwhelmed by the ice-cold atmosphere, kept silent. To them, Oh Yeon’s expression was extremely unfamiliar. In fact, it wasn’t wrong to say that it was the first time they had ever seen him like this.

Oh Yeon had always been the most rational and calm Esper. It was because of this that he was able to handle sensitive confidential information with ease, earning him the nickname “the brain of the center.”

Park Seungwon irritably swept his hair back. He truly couldn’t stand Ji Gwanyeong. He never expected that Ji Gwanyeong would openly provoke the few ways his lover could become emotionally disturbed.

With a slight raise of his eyebrow, Ji Gwanyeong finally said, “Thank you for answering,” seemingly backing off. In truth, he wanted to ask a lot more questions, but he knew that if he pushed further, his guide would really get angry.

The one responsible for relieving the freezing atmosphere in the meeting room was the leader of this space. The center director stood up with the sound of her heels clicking lightly.

“Oh Yeon, researcher. I’m sorry. Actually, this was something I should have done.”

“……It’s not your fault. I’m sorry.”

“Ji Gwanyeong, do you have more questions for researcher Oh?”

“No.”

It was a clean resolution of the situation.

The center director was a woman whose presence and charisma were overwhelming just by standing. With her wavy hair that reached her shoulders, somewhat classical pearl accessories, and a tweed jacket, everything about her appearance revealed her meticulous personality. Taehun blinked his eyes, feeling tense as he watched the center director, who had taken the place where Oh Yeon had stood a moment ago.

Once the director confirmed that all eyes in the meeting room were on her, she slowly opened her mouth.

“Right now, our center has the technological capability that would stand up to any specialized organization in any country. From the systems to the training facilities, we even have people visiting to explore our environment.”

The Esper, who had begun to sense a boring explanation, subtly shifted his posture. The guide nudged him with his elbow.

“But 30 years ago, this was a backward institution that had fallen out of everyone’s interest. There was no training system for Espers, no design for places to handle their powers, and the management of guides was nothing more than scribbling on a few documents.”

Taehun once heard that an intelligent Esper could never forget anything they saw, heard, learned, or acquired from the moment they became aware of their powers, until the day they died. Curious about this, he had asked Oh Yeon once.

Oh Yeon had laughed out loud, which was rare for him. Taehun had thought that laugh meant “It’s impossible.”

“The center was like that until that man joined.”

But now, Taehun thought that the laugh might have been a bitter acknowledgment. The center director’s eyes seemed to reflect that same feeling. Taehun, his gaze meeting the director’s, nervously opened his mouth to ask,

“If you mean that man…”

“He is the one who defined the concept of an Esper, in other words, the person who created the idea of power. It should have been covered in the guide training, ‘The first unmeasurable Esper.’”

For the first time, there was a hint of interest in Ji Gwanyeong’s eyes, which had previously looked bored. His guide was right. It seemed there was some usefulness in the center’s training after all. The Esper thought as he scraped the last bits of ice from his takeaway cup.

“No one knows that man’s name. Everyone just called him ‘Teacher.’ He never said his name. He came to this place, which barely had a signboard, and exactly ten years later, the center became the foundation of everything you all take for granted today.”

The matching system, the large Esper training grounds, the training programs…

As the center director spoke about the center’s proudest achievements, her eyes seemed to drift, as if recalling old memories.

“That genius, whose end no one could predict… Yes, that was the ‘Teacher.’ Sometimes I think, no matter how powerful an Esper is… can a human really do such things?”

It almost sounded like she was talking to herself.

The center director herself was one of the top intelligent Espers. Her rapid rise through the ranks in her early twenties, constantly being promoted, was enough to hint at her abilities. But as she spoke about the ‘Teacher,’ there was a hint of uneasy reverence in her voice. However, she quickly shook off the lingering emotion.

“But he, ‘Teacher,’ began something that should never have been done with his abilities.”

In fact, the director herself never wanted to bring this up. What she was about to speak of was a piece of her past, a fatal flaw that even she, a perfectionist, struggled to acknowledge. The director took a slow breath before speaking as if confessing a sin.

“The creation of the perfect guide. To create a special guide with a power that shows high matching rates with any Esper. To create a ‘person’ for that. I admit it. That act was certainly inhumane and immoral.”

“……”