Held against me in silence for a long moment, Cha Gweonwoo finally muttered in disbelief:
“Wow, this is crazy. Just hugging feels good.”
His solid body melted like butter on a frying pan.
“Insane. I feel like I’m wrapped in clouds. Ah… it feels so damn good.”
“Wait—hold on.”
I pushed at his shoulders in a panic, but he only pulled me tighter. Ugh. He was so strong it was hard to breathe. My face flushed red as I gasped for air.
Oblivious to the fact he was crushing me half to death, Gweonwoo kept repeating in a blissed-out tone how insane this felt. His cheeks burned red, proof of how much he was enjoying it.
Well, I am an A-class guide. And right now, even though he’s an esper, he can’t use any of his abilities. If he got tested, he’d probably register at F-class.
If A-class guiding is like red ginseng extract to an S-class esper, then to an F-class esper it’s ten garlic shots—or hell, meth, heroin, take your pick.
Pressed against me, Gweonwoo mumbled endlessly in a languid voice:
“Hold me a little tighter. Ah, this is insane…”
Urk.
It was like being crushed by a boulder; I couldn’t breathe. Last night’s dream came back to me—the one where I almost died with my throat squeezed shut.
‘You know too much about me. Time for you to die.’
If Cha Gweonwoo ever got his memory back and remembered hugging me like this, he’d want to peel his own skin off. Maybe he’d turn that fury on me.
The thought shrank my heart to an ice cube.
Even while suffocating, I tilted my head up and whispered into his ear, desperate as if sending a distress signal from some deserted island:
“Mr. Cha Gweonwoo… even if you remember everything later, don’t forget this. Ever…”
“Hm?”
“You were the one who hugged me first. I said I didn’t want it.”
You hugged me first. I said no. You hugged me first. I said no. You hugged me first. I said no. I really said no. If you ever try to come after me later—remember. Remember. REMEMBER.
***
Even though I haunted the Guiding Center all the time, I’d never once set foot in the training center right behind it. For obvious reasons: I had no business there.
I’d heard from others how huge it was, but when the car drove us through the main gate, I found myself awestruck despite everything.
It was like stepping into another world.
On either side of the cleanly paved roads stood training facilities in every shape imaginable. One was a rounded dome, another a tall spire, another looked like a castle, and another coiled like a snake. Like spotting new animals on safari, I gawked at each new structure that came into view.
The place had been carved straight out of the surrounding mountains by the lake. They said it took over ten minutes just to drive from the front to the back gate. The facilities were so spread out walking was impossible.
Our car sped through the maze of roads without slowing.
Suddenly I remembered a legend whispered among guides: a drunk guide once wandered in, got lost, and three days later was found dead in the lake.
Back then I thought, what kind of old fools believe crap like that, but seeing this place, I got it.
If someone told me to walk from the front gate to the main station, I’d probably get lost the second I stepped in. And since GPS was blocked here under the National Security Act, a directionless idiot like me really would end up a corpse in the lake three days later.
Eventually the car stopped in front of the main station. From the outside it looked modest, like any city train terminal.
Here you had to check in first, then take a tram from the main station to whichever training facility. The driver told us this was our stop, snapping me back to my senses.
“Mr. Cha Gweonwoo. Let’s get out.”
He’d stayed glued to me like a nursing mammal the whole ride. This time I shoved his shoulder with ruthless firmness.
“Snap out of it.”
This was no time for clinging. Unless we wanted to be found floating in the lake three days from now, we needed our wits about us.
But Gweonwoo stiffened and refused to budge, clinging tighter instead.
I flung open the door on his side and barked like a soulless tour guide telling tourists, ‘Ten minutes at the Eiffel Tower, meet back here!’
“Mr. Cha Gweonwoo. Pull yourself together and get out. We don’t have time.”
When tapping his shoulder failed, I resorted to lightly slapping his cheek like waking up a drunk. Hello? Anybody home?
Finally he climbed out, straightening his wrinkled clothes before glancing up at the main station steps.
What the—why is it glowing? Why is it so dazzling?
I squinted, and then realized: the light was coming from Cha Gweonwoo’s face.
It was my first time seeing him under full sunlight. His skin glowed whiter than the beaches of the Seychelles in some Indian Ocean paradise.
How the hell does that face belong to an esper who slaughters aberrants?
He’s rolled around the field how many times, and yet not a single trace of sunburn? Even the scars on his face looked ornamental in the light.
I found myself marveling instinctively at him—until he turned back, wondering why I wasn’t getting out. I snapped to and scrambled from the car like I’d been struck by lightning.
Not the time for this. I had to get a grip too. We’d thought we left early, but training time was already close.
“Wow, it’s even bigger than the photos.”
Like a kid on his first trip to an amusement park, Gweonwoo gazed around wide-eyed with curiosity. I couldn’t help muttering inwardly:
You were coming here like it was your second home just last week.
Clueless to my thoughts, he kept craning his neck until he asked wistfully:
“Think we could look around a bit first?”
As if.
Dragging him along, I pulled him into the main station. Inside was far more expansive than I’d expected, with a ceiling open up to the third floor making it feel even bigger.
At the entrance we had to clear a security check. I held out my guide card, while beside me Gweonwoo patted his empty pockets in dismay.
I jerked my chin toward him.
“He’s an esper, Seoul Branch.”
“Esper, please place your hand here. Look straight ahead.”
As an esper registered with the Seoul Branch, his fingerprint and iris scan gave him automatic entry.
Me, I wasn’t so lucky. As a summoned guide, every visit meant handing over both my guide card and ID like hostages in exchange for a temporary pass. The curse of being a freelancer.
There was a way: guides assigned to a specific esper could apply for yearlong automatic entry. But the process was annoyingly complicated.
Tons of documents, and one required your esper’s signature. Asking Cha Gweonwoo for something like that? Forget it. Way easier to carry my damn card 365 days a year.
The desk staffer handed me a pass and said calmly:
“Take the tram from Platform 3. It arrives in one minute.”
“One minute?!”
I didn’t even know where the platform was, and it was arriving in one minute? My voice cracked into a shriek. Before I could ask, the staffer pointed left.
Spotting the tram signs in the distance, I turned to Gweonwoo.
“This way!”
Platform 3, Platform 3!
I chanted it like a spell, sprinting full tilt—until I noticed the emptiness beside me.
“Wait, where’s Gweonwoo?”
I spun around. Our ever-carefree Cha Gweonwoo was still standing at the desk.
Why isn’t he coming? It’s his training, not mine!
“Mr. Cha Gweonwoo!”
No reply. I rushed back to him. He was staring, entranced, at the monitor.
“What the hell are you looking—”
AAS-011 / Cha Gweonwoo / Age 27 / S-class Esper / Seoul Branch / Team A1