Episode 11
Slowly, he opened his eyes.
Yeongwon held her breath for a moment. This time it wasn’t the smell of medicine filling the room — it was the pressure he brought with him.
Yeohyeon’s gaze didn’t even glance at Lee Changgyeol. It went straight to Yeongwon.
“I’m Shim Yeongwon, guide.”
“I don’t know if you remember my name, but I said hello once in the parking lot a few days ago.”
There was no answer. Still, she was sure he remembered her.
“I wanted to talk. Just the two of us.”
Yeongwon kept her eyes fixed on Yeohyeon and turned to Director Lee.
“As I said, I won’t harm your nephew.”
“I don’t think… that’s possible, Guide Shim Yeongwon.”
The strange standoff ended when Yeohyeon nodded, as if he understood.
With Yeohyeon’s consent, Lee Changgyeol left the room.
Click.
Lee Changgyeol stepped out, and the two were alone.
Yeohyeon slowly lifted his upper body. Yeongwon edged closer to him.
“I heard you hate being guided.”
Tap, tap.
“They say you’re famous for only accepting reverse-guiding, and even that you’ve refused.”
“But from what I know, those machines hurt worse and are less efficient than reverse-guiding…”
Most Espers would be busted by a single one of those machines; he had twenty-nine. That’s basically the same as surviving a guide with a single-digit matching rate.
If he were an ordinary person, he’d have gone into shock from the pain a thousand times over.
“You hate it that much?”
No answer.
Screech.
Yeongwon moved a single-seater couch closer to the big sofa and spoke.
“Still, you need a high-ranking dedicated guide, right?”
She stopped wasting time on small talk and sat down in the moving chair.
“I’ll be that guide. Your dedicated guide.”
She didn’t want to waste time on an intro.
“No matter what the match rate is, when it matters, I’ll cooperate with the guiding, whatever the pain.”
If he hated guiding because he couldn’t stand seeing others suffer, she was ready to hide every bit of the pain and guide with a smile.
“Anyway, the Center’s going to want at least one guide attached to you. I know you’ll accept the Center’s offer sooner or later, just to stop the nagging pressure.”
“Give that slot to me. I’m not afraid of pain. Whatever you imagine, it’s less than what I can take.”
It wasn’t that she felt any special pity for his suffering. The feeling that all suffering deserved pity had evaporated from her long ago.
Still, she decided to share Kim Yeohyeon’s burden.
“I’m not offering to dedicate myself because I want to save the world.”
“I’m offering a trade. And what I want in return is clear. It’s”
Swoosh.
Yeohyeon moved his arm.
“Guide.”
His voice was deeper and rougher than she remembered. It wrapped around that invisible something in the room.
Maybe it was her imagination, but she felt bound.
His gaze gripped her tighter than she remembered.
“Is that why you came?”
“……Yes.”
“That you want to be my dedicated guide, and tried to persuade the Director to let you come down?”
“Yes. That’s right.”
“From what I know, you don’t have the means to make that offer.”
His dark, deep eyes — unchanged from before — made Yeongwon tense, just like last time.
“So…”
“If your business is finished, I’d prefer you leave immediately.”
Yeongwon wasn’t surprised by the blunt refusal. Instead, she quietly sorted what she could say without revealing the truth she wanted to hide.
While staying at the Center, she hadn’t learned what they’d tried to teach her — she’d learned what she needed to know.
She’d taken every bit of knowledge she could get, except one thing.
“Esper.”
Now was the time to take that last thing.
And right now, she faced someone who could give it: the monster people whispered about, the owner of penthouses and black cards.
It was just the two of them.
No interruptions, and plenty of time to talk.
“You just told me to leave just now?”
Yeongwon crossed her legs and relaxed back into the sofa.
“No,” she said.
Facing the negotiation table, she leaned in slightly and whispered, keeping her cool.
“I have abilities beyond what you might imagine. Keeping me close would benefit you long-term.”
“Don’t make yourself regret pushing me away and going around the long route later, Esper.”
He smiled.
Maybe. It felt like it.
It wasn’t a mocking sneer or a derisive little laugh. It felt more like a positive reaction.
If it wasn’t imagination, then yes, Kim Yeohyeon had smiled.
Yeongwon was surprised and, for a moment, stunned.
“Unselected guide.”
Thud. Clunk.
‘Ah….’
Swoosh.
“You wear your watch loosely.”
Clack.
Yeongwon’s wristwatch was tightened one notch forward. The chair she’d been sitting on slid about fifty centimeters sideways, placing her directly in front of his gaze.
And she hadn’t felt as much as a breeze.
Yeongwon touched the wrist where the watch now sat and noticed the button on her dark red outer sleeve had been fastened too.
‘What….’
Everything happened in an instant.
If she’d intended to swing a blade, she could have severed an artery in that flash.
It was as if an unspoken lesson said: I could kill you any time, so why speak of regrets now.
His smile, contrary to the anticipation that it was warm, felt like mockery.
She’d thought she wouldn’t be flustered like last time. That was a mistake. She’d let her guard down.
No matter how confident a gambler thinks he is with his strongest hand, you must keep your cool in front of someone with a knife.
“Unselected guide.”
“……Yes.”
“You’d better not make yourself regret things either.”
Yeongwon let out a short snort in her head.
Kim Yeohyeon was truly not an easy person.
She spread the radar so he couldn’t sense it.
She sent out energy all around — a 360° perception with no blind spots. She’d used this sense since she was nine, as instinctive as sight.
Now, even if she got hit the same way, she wouldn’t be taken by surprise.
Rustle.
An Esper jacket that had been lying on the floor floated up into the air.
“You do seem to have somewhere to rely on.”
His pretty hand moved slowly, lazily, as if accepting that jacket from something invisible.
Clack. Thud.
All twenty-nine IVs disconnected at once. As if an unseen force did it.
Ssshhh. The machines — twenty-nine of them, with no wheels — slid as if friction didn’t exist.
Clack. Beep. Grind. Peep
With the final mechanical sound, the office’s devices were all tidied away.
By now, Yeohyeon had his full Esper uniform on. His loosened tie was pulled tight. The relaxed feeling evaporated without a trace.
‘…He’s crazy.’
And through her radar, Yeongwon saw it.
Not one speck of power wasted. Not a single grain is leaking or squandered.
Not figuratively — literally not even a grain.
S-rank.
Yeah. Kim Yeohyeon was S-rank. His vessel overflowed with power; he didn’t need micro-control.
Yeongwon felt like a billionaire watching someone split a tiny 132 won credit into weird multi-card payments — ridiculous.
‘What kind of S-rank…’
‘He’s chopping his power down to nano-units to save it…?’
‘No wonder the elders said the rich are worse off — they were right.’
So that’s why everyone calls Kim Yeohyeon a weird genius from another dimension.
That explained why he’d gone to the brink of going berserk and come back dozens of times.
She was completely convinced.
Seeing Yeohyeon’s control up close without any filter made everything clear.
“You asked around about me, didn’t you?”
Yeongwon steadied herself and focused on his words.
“You probably heard I hate guiding, that I refused to guide through the Center, but that the Center and I compromised to keep a dedicated guide with no gaps for at least three months. That’s likely why you made such a bold offer.”
“……Yes.”
“I also heard some things about an unselected guide.”
“What things…?”
“The sixteenth unselected guide. Grade B.”
“If you want my dedicated guide spot, you have to meet the Center’s standards. Unfortunately, B-grade guidance won’t help me.”
B-grade guidance would give an effect equal to maybe one of those machines on his body. Yeongwon knew that too.
Clack.
Yeohyeon set a teacup on the table.
“So you talk about abilities beyond imagination, yet you’re not in a position to propose a trade.”
“You have nothing to offer me. How would a trade work?”
You and I have to be on the same level.
The implied line slid between them, unspoken.
Of course, any cutting lines he spat out couldn’t dent Yeongwon’s shield. She was the mental king who could sleep soundly in a car trunk while being kidnapped.
Words had no effect.
She only admired his voice wrapping around her ear — another charm point.
‘Esper, you’ve got style.’
‘A sharp way of speaking that fits your looks.’
‘If only you showed that tender, obsessive sweetness to my woman—’
That’d be my grave…’
Yeongwon shook her head. This wasn’t the time for fantasies. She had a goal.
“You offered drinks and proper etiquette. Now that it’s been observed, please finish and leave.”
Yeohyeon turned as if his business was done.
Swoosh.
A teacup slid forward to Yeongwon — no one touched it; it moved by itself.
A red liquid sat motionless inside. The precision control was amazing; he wasn’t even looking at it, so it didn’t seem like he used sight.
‘One eye is covered, so depth perception must be almost non-existent… how is this possible?’
Yeongwon focused on him and then understood. A faint smile appeared, then his mouth opened.
“You keep assuming B-grade. Everything you say assumes I’m B-grade. Did you forget that I’m not B-grade and start throwing around talk of impossible abilities?”
“And whatever standard the Center tries to use, if I decide to push it, I can get you a dedicated guide no matter my grade.”
He didn’t plan to reveal that he was SSS-rank today, but he didn’t want to let her think he was B-grade either.
“And Esper. I came here with Director Lee Changgyeol before Director Baek Yul. Does this Director bring random people down here?”
“Have you ever seen an awakened with power that didn’t match their known grade?”
Their eyes met.
Yeohyeon couldn’t be unaware of a physical Esper who’s said to be A-grade but has S-level power — like Director Lee.
Yeongwon was sure Yeohyeon was complicit with him.
“One isn’t enough — how about two?”
He would understand immediately what she meant.
