Episode 12
Yeohyeon didn’t look surprised. His cold eyes stayed steady, studying Yeongwon carefully.
It was like he was trying to figure out how — and why — she knew what she did.
After a moment, his response was one she didn’t expect.
“If you were confident you could meet such a high standard,” he said evenly, “why didn’t you take the official evaluation, bring the results, and come properly? Why show up like this?”
A direct hit.
He didn’t admit his own weakness — he pointed out hers instead.
“What exactly is it you’re trying to hide from the Center, Guide?”
Yeongwon stayed silent. She didn’t owe him an answer. She didn’t need to give one.
The silence lingered between them — tight, but calm. Yeohyeon seemed to be weighing possibilities. Yeongwon waited for his decision.
Finally, he spoke again.
“Either way, I understand your point.”
“If you do, then—”
“At least A-rank,” he said. “That’s what you’re saying, right?”
His silence counted as agreement.
“If you’re bluffing, you’re going to lose a lot.”
The drawer slid open with a soft swish, and a keycard — probably for his penthouse — landed neatly in his hand.
Yeohyeon didn’t drag it out. Once he made a decision, he acted.
“For whatever reason, it seems you’d rather stay in my penthouse than at the Center. If that’s what you want, go ahead.”
The place she’d been aiming for was right in front of her now.
“Like you said, if I push for it, it’s not impossible. I assume you don’t mind if I tell them you seem like an A-rank?”
“Yes. Saying I seem like one would be perfect.”
Even if she wasn’t S-rank, an A-rank unselected guide was still high enough to escape the Center’s constant surveillance — and get under Kim Yeohyeon’s protection.
Yeongwon had already predicted that her rating would be quietly adjusted upward.
An A-rank made sense — it’d give credibility to her sudden appointment as Yeohyeon’s dedicated guide.
She stood up from the sofa and walked over to him.
“Then, I’ll hear what you want in return later.”
She stopped in front of him. The key was still in his hand.
“I was wondering how you managed to bring Director Lee down here,” Yeohyeon said. “So it was blackmail?”
“…Yes.”
He extended the keycard toward her. Yeongwon reached out. Their hands were just inches apart when—
Yeohyeon pulled the card slightly back, meeting her gaze.
“If you expose Lee Changgyeol’s true rank, think carefully about how many people you’ll turn into enemies afterward.”
At last, the keycard dropped into her hand.
Yeongwon lowered her arm and gripped it tightly.
“I know. I never really meant to spread it around anyway. This was all I wanted from the start.”
The card slipped deep into her pocket.
Now it was truly hers.
“…Unselected guide.”
“No,” Yeongwon said, shaking her head.
She wasn’t just an unselected guide.
From what she’d figured out, her connection with the World Tree had started differently — not like the ordinary “selected” ones, and not like the “unselected,” either.
When she’d arrived in this world, she’d been selected — she was sure of that.
But this selection had been done so quietly, so secretly, it was unheard of.
And Yeongwon was certain: in all of known — and unknown — history, she was the first SSS-rank awakened ever.
[No equivalent rank found — SSS-rank classification closed.]
It hadn’t been a lie.
So “unselected” wasn’t the right label for her.
“Don’t call me an ‘unselected guide,’” she said.
If she wanted to stay by Kim Yeohyeon’s side, she needed to become someone special to him.
To the ranker blessed by the World Tree as “Eternal Devotee,” what could the name “Yeongwon” — Eternal — mean?
“Like I’ve been saying from the start,” she said clearly. “I’m Shim Yeongwon. Just call me Yeongwon.”
“Shim Yeongwon. My name is Yeongwon. Please use it.”
She emphasized those two syllables.
For a while, they just stared at each other.
“…Guide Shim Yeongwon,” he said at last, giving in.
“Then, please leave.”
“Okay. I’ll see you at your place.”
“And I know something,” she added lightly.
His eyes asked, What?
“You perceive the world through radar, not sight.”
Though the one I use secretly is better than yours, she thought.
And someday, I might even help you upgrade it.
“How I figured it out,” she smiled, “that’s a secret.”
“Unfortunately for you, the more you get to know me, the more you’ll realize I’m full of surprises.”
“I can already picture you, feeling embarrassed later, remembering what you said — ‘Get lost, don’t regret it,’ that kind of thing — and cringing about it.”
His words hadn’t hurt her, but she did want to return the favor, at least verbally.
“Anyway, nice to meet you, my Esper.”
Yeongwon smiled sweetly.
That was how she let him know — she wasn’t the only one with a strong personality.
She’d be his guide for a long time.
Click.
Thud.
After she left, Yeohyeon sank back onto the sofa.
He’d ended up using more energy than he’d planned — just from keeping his guard up around a guide who clearly had secrets.
Hadn’t she said she’d been confined to a facility until recently?
Her behavior didn’t fit that at all.
The energy he’d built up after his recent mission was already running low again.
The day wasn’t going as expected, and that frustrated him.
His head throbbed. He felt dizzy.
And yet… he wasn’t exactly unhappy.
Why not?
He went over her words again — calm, deliberate.
A teacup that hadn’t been touched flickered on his radar.
Shim Yeongwon.
He’d heard talk about the pale-colored unselected guide, but only vaguely.
He hadn’t expected her to show up, asking to be his dedicated guide.
Hadn’t she said something like — “I’ll help with guiding, no matter the pain”?
And that “Keeping me around will benefit you in the long run”?
Yeohyeon figured she’d probably never experience real pain.
One reverse-guiding session, and she’d throw all that “no regrets” talk right out the window — scrambling to run away from him.
It was almost funny.
Someone making promises about regret when they’d never truly suffered.
Clack. Click.
Beep. Beep-beep. Whirr. Whirr.
The machines around him reconnected one by one.
Yeohyeon decided not to think about the guide who’d stormed out of his space anymore — at least not tonight.
Whether she was A-rank, S-rank, or something else entirely — whatever she was hiding — for now, he just wanted to rest.
When his vessel was full again, when his mind and body were working properly…
Then he’d make a clearer judgment.
“I’m drained… exhausted…”
It had been ages since she’d had such a fierce mental battle, Yeongwon thought as she left the room.
Standing outside the door was Esper Lee Changgyeol.
“I… now have access to his place— I mean…”
Catching herself before sounding too greedy, she corrected,
“Anyway, I’ve been granted entry to Esper Kim Yeohyeon’s residence.”
She pulled out the keycard and waved it proudly.
Director Lee didn’t seem surprised; it was like he’d known this would happen.
He wasn’t an oblivious awakened — he understood how things worked.
“Guide.”
“Yes?”
“Please take good care of him.”
He offered his hand. They shook.
It was their second handshake — but this one meant something different.
There was intent behind it, and though Yeongwon understood perfectly what that intent was, she pretended not to notice.
Lee’s expression wavered — part pleased, part exasperated.
Their hands parted.
“I suppose we’ll have to cancel your Center schedule now, won’t we?”
Yeongwon remembered every line of the “Dedicated Guide Management Protocol for Esper Kim Yeohyeon,” issued five years ago by the Center Director himself.
According to it, her only duty now was to stay at Yeohyeon’s penthouse and wait for him.
It was a success.
Stage 1 objective — complete.
That evening, at the Matching Lab.
After finishing her Emergency Response Division 2 shift, Go Yoryeon stopped by the lab, looking gloomy.
A pile of papers sat like a mountain in front of her.
“Guide Go Yoryeon, is something wrong?”
The chief researcher at the lab walked up beside her gently.
“…Yeah. I think I messed up.”
It seemed spending so much time with Yeongwon had rubbed off on her — she was even using her phrases now.
The chief tried to cheer her up.
“Well, this isn’t your main job anyway. Even if it fails, it won’t affect your performance review, right?”
“That’s true…”
“Director Lee even said it’s impressive — not just doing your division’s work but volunteering for the Matching Lab research, too.”
“Yeah… thank you.”
“You’re doing fine. You just need to take it easy.”
He clenched both fists, doing a little “fighting!” gesture.
“Cheer up.”
Yoryeon gave a small laugh and nodded.
“It’d be nice if results came out right away, but even if it takes time, it’s not the end of the world.”
“I guess so.”
“So what exactly went wrong?”
Now the chief’s curiosity was piqued.
“Well, um… Chief…”
“Yes?”
Yoryeon slumped again, fidgeting with the papers.
The chief’s eyes drifted toward the top sheet.
“You were testing the unselected guide, right?”
“Yes.”
“This is about Guide Shim Yeongwon’s results? The ones from this device?”
He tapped the machine beside them.
“…Yes. I think there’s a software error. The numbers are absurd.”
Yoryeon looked completely defeated.
“When will we even be able to beta test properly…”
“So it didn’t work? Can’t process unselected guides?”
“No! It did work. I ran the test with ten Espers I personally picked, and it produced results. But they’re just… unbelievable.”
“Let me see. I’m curious now.”
The chief reached for the papers, interest sparked.
“Here, this one.”
“That one? Look.”
He took the top sheet she pointed to.
[Matching Rate Analysis Results]
His eyes slowly moved down the page.
[1st — Esper Kim Yeohyeon (S): 90.01% (possible)]
[2nd — Esper Lee Jijun (S): 73.75% (possible)]
[3rd — Esper Choi Hwarang (A): 72.52% (possible)]
[4th — Esper Choi Hwansung (S): 71.39% (possible)]
