Chapter 4
Ji-seo knew about that incident.
In the heart of New York, a Gate had opened, causing a huge commotion. Espers rushed in immediately, preventing major damage, but since the area was densely populated and full of people from various countries, it became a hot topic even in Korea.
Baek Do-hyuk’s situation made sense. In Korea, any Esper graded D or above is required by law to be affiliated with the government. The regulations were stricter than even the military service law, with virtually no exceptions.
Guides, whose numbers were even smaller than Espers and whose awakening symptoms were less pronounced, were bound by other rules. If a guide didn’t operate publicly and their identity was discovered, it wasn’t just the law that applied—there was also an unspoken societal expectation to support Espers risking their lives for humanity and the country.
Few Awakened guides hid their status. Unlike Espers, guides didn’t enter dangerous areas; all they needed to do was provide guidance, and in return they received substantial salaries and stable careers. For someone not planning to live a completely secluded life, voluntarily registering and working as a guide, even part-time, was the norm.
Even someone as famous as Baek Do-hyuk sometimes paired with Espers or allocated time once or twice a week for team-based guiding. Among them, few had as much wealth as Baek Do-hyuk, though.
After a brief hesitation, Baek Do-hyuk continued:
“My family hopes that, if this is a fated connection or whatever, it won’t interfere with any future marriage plans. And I don’t want my judgment clouded by those who make a fuss about S-Rank Espers. That’s why it’s you, Ji-seo.”
It could have been an offensive remark, but Ji-seo wasn’t offended at all.
She understood that “that’s why it’s you” meant it was because of her steady, unflappable personality—like a rock in Ulsan. Espers tended to obsessively love and protect their guides, sometimes to extreme levels.
If there was such a clear imbalance of power, and one side was even mentally overwhelmed by unilateral affection, it made sense that someone with Baek Do-hyuk’s resources would worry. With Ji-seo, that was unlikely. But what did it matter to her?
“Understood.”
Ji-seo nodded once again. But it did not mean she agreed.
“However, I still cannot accept. You have no assigned guide, and you’re far from lacking—if anything, you have more than enough. But I am satisfied with my current situation. I’m sure there’s someone more suitable—an Esper who would be happy to accept your offer.”
She finished and calmly looked toward the chief. Her point was clear: the meeting was intended to recruit a suitable Esper, and she had expressed that she was inappropriate as Baek Do-hyuk’s partner. She hoped it was enough to excuse her from staying longer.
Ji-seo wasn’t an out-of-control Esper, and if the Esper herself didn’t want it, there was no reason for the chief or anyone else to force her. Unless they were playing some three-person card game, she should be allowed to leave.
The chief muttered a meaningless “huh, well…” and nodded.
Even if the chief disliked her, it didn’t matter. Ji-seo wasn’t aiming for promotion. As long as she didn’t die, being an Esper was a stable career. But if entangled with an S-Rank, things were different.
She didn’t want to blur her definition of “stability” any further, so she bowed lightly and rose without hesitation.
Apparently, not everyone thought the conversation was over.
As Ji-seo headed to the door, Baek Do-hyuk hurried after her and suddenly blocked her path.
“Ji-seo, I haven’t finished speaking yet.”
He was tall. Easily over 185 cm. In Korea, men over 185 cm are roughly in the top 2%. Impressive.
Ji-seo looked up at him, silently daring him to speak.
Baek Do-hyuk glanced around, ensured no one was nearby, and then cautiously spoke something that actually piqued her interest:
“I will compensate you. Any way you want.”
Ji-seo raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
It wasn’t unheard of for compensation to pass between Esper and guide. Some Espers paid or provided housing to secure a compatible guide partner. Essentially, it was like sponsorship.
But that was always from Esper to guide. A guide paying an Esper? That was unheard of. Guides didn’t require dependence in the same way Espers did.
Ji-seo now suspected that something about this man was… unusual. In any case, offers that seemed too good were as suspicious as those that were too bad.
“Why me?”
She asked quietly.
He offered payment for guiding, so perhaps his request wasn’t just a superficial partnership. The previous explanations sounded questionable enough, but there seemed to be something even more… improper. Baek Do-hyuk gave a small, knowing smile and replied:
“Because I like you, Ji-seo. Is that enough of an answer?”
Ji-seo met his gaze with her own faint smile—eyes still cold, mouth only slightly upturned, barely a smile at all. But Baek Do-hyuk seemed delighted even by that subtle expression.
Ji-seo, oblivious to his reaction, spoke in her usual monotone:
“Yes, that’s sufficient. I will decline once again.”
Do-hyuk’s eyes widened. Before he could respond, Ji-seo politely bowed and said:
“I hope we never meet under circumstances like this again, Vice President Baek. That’s all.”
She meant it, and quickened her pace.
“Ugh, pervert.”
Muttering her own opinion, completely unlike anything Baek Do-hyuk would say, she sped away, unaware he was watching her every step.
Ji-seo returned to her desk, gathered her coat and bag.
She’d lost five precious minutes of her early departure because the chief dragged her in. Usually, her days were filled with Gates, real combat, and training, so a rare early leave was a small luxury—but Choi Young-muk and Baek Do-hyuk had ruined it.
“Finally, I can leave early and watch some baseball.”
Her only hobby and relaxation: sipping draft beer while watching baseball in the hall.
She started the 15-year-old car, thinking about the starting pitcher today. But that modest happiness didn’t last long.
Less than ten minutes after parting from Baek Do-hyuk, she had rear-ended his hypercar.
Not just any car—it was worth far more than her dream apartment in Seoul.
After rejecting the S-Rank guide chaebol in person and now smashing his supercar, Ji-seo ignored beer or anything else and headed straight home.
At home, her older sister Yeon-seo lay on the living room floor, rubbing her stomach. Despite starting her residency, she had only come home just enough to not forget her own face.
“Yeon-seo, what are you doing?”
“Counting the ceiling patterns, thinking about why life is so unfair after getting scolded by the professor.”
So Ji-seo lay down beside her.
The two sisters sighed deeply, staring at the hopelessly outdated wallpaper.
“I was planning to redo the wallpaper and flooring with my bonus in two months.”
Ji-seo sighed, then turned on her phone and looked up the Bugatti Veyron. She had seen it before—driven by Kwon Yul, an S-Rank Esper from Red 1 Team in the metropolitan headquarters.
He didn’t drive just that car—he rotated them by day or color—but she had overheard her teammates gossip about it. There were only two in the country. Now she knew both owners, and she wasn’t happy about it at all.
