Footsteps followed.
She knew the man was behind her, but she paid him no mind and took her car key from her pocket.
She didn’t feel well enough to bother with him.
She would rest in the car for a bit and leave once the dizziness passed.
Just then, a voice came from right behind her.
“Are you hurt?”
She glanced at the man walking one step behind her.
He had gotten so close they were now almost side-by-side.
“It’s none of your concern.”
“You’re bleeding from your forehead.”
She ignored him.
It wasn’t genuine concern, just an excuse to start a conversation.
His speech was slightly stilted, not as natural as a native Korean speaker’s.
He wasn’t Korean.
He was the only foreigner in the exclusionary world of Yangundang.
Jin Yang was a C-rank Esper from Mongolia.
Now that the war with the Gates dominated the globe, those who were awakened were considered national treasures.
Countries made great efforts to prevent their awakened from leaving, but nations with less power sometimes traded their labor for goods.
Jin Yang was one such case.
Director Jeong had hired him as a bodyguard to protect herself from a stalker.
The culprit had been a security guard at her art museum, said to have acted out of resentment for his dismissal.
At least, that was the official story.
‘It was a lover’s quarrel, really.’ They said he’d held a grudge after she found a new lover who was younger and better built.
Jin Yang was the one who got caught on Director Jeong’s radar while she was looking for a way to get rid of the pest.
A handsome and powerful Esper.
He must have been an item perfectly to her liking—not just as a bodyguard, but as a bed partner as well.
After finding that out, Dana couldn’t get over how pathetic the woman seemed.
Even when the director scorned and berated her, it hardly stung.
Because every time, the image of her pinned under Jin Yang, shrieking, would come to mind.
Of course, the oh-so-dignified Director Jeong had no idea that Dana knew any of this.
Few people knew this, as Director Jeong maintained ironclad security around her private life.
Dana, however, knew these details intimately, all thanks to Jin Yang.
It was part of their arrangement.
As she reached for the car door, Dana paused and looked back at him.
He was watching her, his gloomy face unreadable.
“What are you standing there for?” she asked coldly.
“Dana…” Jin’s eyes wavered with a desperate longing.
He was so tall that he was naturally conspicuous, and standing so close, staring at her, he was bound to draw unwanted attention.
Dana quickly scanned their surroundings.
“Move,” she said, her voice tight with impatience.
“It’s not time yet.”
“But you came today,” he insisted, resolute.
He wouldn’t move an inch until he got what he wanted.
Biting her lip, Dana had no choice but to step back.
A look of undisguised delight crossed his face as he climbed into the passenger seat.
She quickly got in after him, hoping no one had seen.
Her cheek stung where she’d been hit.
Jin was staring at her with an intense gaze.
His skin was a deep gold, and his hair, short enough to be a buzz cut and was as jet-black as his suit.
His features were sharp and handsome, but his eyes were as lifeless as a dead fish’s, casting a pall of melancholy over him.
He truly seemed like a man who had never known a moment of pleasure—the textbook image of an Esper deprived of Guiding.
“How are you feeling?” Dana asked reluctantly.
As if he’d been waiting for the question, Jin answered at once.
“Not good.
That’s why I waited for you, Dana.”
She narrowed her eyes.
She could see it now—white, thread-like aura extending from his heart, unnaturally tangled around his limbs.
She recalled that his gait had seemed stiff as he followed her.
“Are your legs numb?”
“How did you know?”
Dana didn’t answer, instead leaning back against the seat and tilting her head.
The back of her skull, which had slammed against the floor earlier, throbbed with a pain that made it impossible to sit up straight.
Jin glanced anxiously at her slumped, exhausted form.
Dana placed her hand on the center console.
He immediately reached to cover it with his own, but she balled her hand into a fist before he could.
“Answer my question first.”
Jin’s expression soured.
He was desperate for Guiding, and the delay was clearly agitating him.
“If you don’t, you get nothing,” Dana said, her voice like ice.
He looked at her, then slowly nodded.
Her purple eyes held a strange light.
“The chairman told me to keep my distance from Doha because Yeonhwa Hwang is coming.
Do you know anything?”
His eyes darted around.
“Nothing?” The corner of her eye twitched, and Jin spoke in a rush.
“The madam told her executive assistant to reserve a handbag at the department store in Yeouido.”
“A handbag?”
“Something for a young woman in her early to mid-twenties.”
Director Jeong enjoyed reading fashion magazines and sometimes even attended shows.
Dana knew she had recently been to Paris Fashion Week.
There was no point in asking Jin for specifics about the bag; he wouldn’t know, and it didn’t matter.
“…And the pickup date?”
“She said she’d get it in a month.”
A young woman in her early to mid-twenties.
‘Yeonhwa Hwang.’ The bag had to be a gift for her.
Director Jeong always sent her something trendy whenever she visited Korea.
Given the director’s obsession with being fashionable, Yeonhwa’s return would be… ‘In about a month or two.’ She could confirm it by stealing a look at Doha’s schedule, but she didn’t need to.
She was certain.
Any other time, news of Yeonhwa’s visit would have been a mere annoyance, but now it left a bitter taste in her mouth.
The Chairman’s solemn voice echoed in her head, making it throb.
‘This isn’t a short visit.
Even if she’s not moving back for good, it won’t be for just a week or two like before.
If things go as the Chairman wants, she’ll be here to stay.’
The more she considered it, the more a crushing sense of powerlessness washed over her.
She glanced at Jin Yang, who was still watching her.
His eyes, once like rotten fish, now glistened with a desperate need.
It was the look of someone who wanted something.
He had asked about her injuries only once and showed no further interest.
He was completely preoccupied with his own selfish needs, and the sight of it disgusted her.
But she hadn’t expected him to worry about her.
In accordance with their unspoken deal, Dana unclenched her fist.
Like a lizard spotting its prey, Jin covered her hand with his.
She closed her eyes, tuning out the damp warmth of his skin seeping into hers.
She felt no need to exert herself.
Guiding Doha had taught her to use her ability more freely.
For her, it was a simple matter of smoothing out and circulating the white aura she could see, like using a defibrillator to correct an irregular heartbeat.
Her focus improved its efficiency, but a certain amount of Guiding happened on its own, even if she paid it no mind.
Jin seemed dissatisfied with her perfunctory effort—like a child forced to do homework—but he merely licked his lips, afraid she might change her mind and send him away.
“Your Guiding… it’s more effective than the others.
It feels good.”
Dana let out a hollow, sarcastic laugh.
“What would you have done if Anya had stayed?”
“…Even then, you… would have been good,” he answered hesitantly.
She snorted without opening her eyes.
He was all talk.
Before Anya was kicked out, they had been inseparable, like lovers.
Dana herself had found them kissing in the storehouse, hiding from Director Jeong.
After that, she had been subjected to a steady stream of veiled threats, especially from Anya.
‘Who do you think would believe you?
If I leave, another Guide will just take my place.
No one will ever like someone as gloomy as you.’
As if dealing with the forced intimacy of Guiding Doha wasn’t bad enough, she’d had to endure those pathetic, empty threats.
It had been infuriating.
Anya had been the bigger nuisance, but Jin wasn’t blameless.
He would catch her eye whenever they passed in the halls and make a point of standing closer to Director Jeong.
Dana knew exactly what he meant by it: a threat that if she ran her mouth, he would whisper poison about her in the director’s ear.
Back then, she hadn’t known he was Director Jeong’s lover, only a close associate.
Still, it would have been easy for him to convince the director to get rid of the bothersome, black-haired pest who was nothing but an eyesore.
A man’s pillow talk was a powerful thing.
Frustratingly, his threats had been more intimidating than Anya’s, and she had kept her mouth shut.
‘To think that the same man is now begging me for Guiding.’ The irony was so absurd she let out another dry little laugh.
When Anya was dismissed, Jin had been left in a bind.
The Guides at Awakened Center only serviced their assigned Espers.