IDESGI Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Heavy footsteps echoed through the corridor, each step pressing into the floor like a warning.

Dark, invasive eyes—
So violent and menacing that no one dared approach.

‘Fuck.’

Rage boiled over, and yet his mind remained ice cold.

‘It doesn’t seem like there’s actually someone else.’

It had been a week since Yeoul left home.

Ihan had tailed him in secret, but Yeoul hadn’t met with anyone.

If anything—he was avoiding even the people he had been close to.

Why?

Ihan had asked him over and over again.

But the only response he ever got was cold, cutting silence.

“Why?”

Kim Yushin, who had just sat down after returning from a mission, barely held back a sigh as Ihan stormed in without warning.

“What now? What did Han Yeoul do this time?”

There was only one person in the world who could make Yoo Ihan—normally so infuriatingly composed—this desperate.

Han Yeoul.

Ihan had always been unhinged, but when it came to Han Yeoul—
He became completely unmanageable.

It was as if his entire world revolved around Yeoul.

“I don’t get it. Why is Yeoul suddenly refusing to talk to anyone?”

Yushin stared at him for a long moment before asking, bluntly.

“If Han Yeoul did start chatting and getting close to someone, what would you do?”

Ihan frowned, as if Yushin had just asked something insultingly obvious.

“I’d beat the shit out of them.”

Then, as if it were a given, he added—

“Every single one of them.”

“Maybe that’s exactly why he’s doing it. Han Yeoul might look stiff and expressionless, but he’s considerate. He’s probably trying to minimize the damage.”

Ihan scoffed and waved a hand dismissively.

“No way. Yeoul doesn’t even know I’m doing this.”

‘So you do realize you’re acting insane.’

Kim Yushin had an epiphany.

Yoo Ihan wasn’t completely devoid of common sense—he just chose to ignore it.

Ihan fell silent for a moment, then his brow twitched as his gaze turned sharp.

“By the way, how do you know Yeoul is considerate? Are you interested in him?”

The way he said it—like he was ready to kill someone.

If Yushin even hinted at an affirmative answer, he might actually die today.

His survival instincts kicked in, and he shook his head violently.

“No! Never! Not even a little bit!”

“Good.”

Ihan slumped onto the couch, leaning into the plush backrest. His eyes drifted through empty space, heavy with thought.

He let out a deep sigh.

“Why is he acting like this all of a sudden?”

“How has he been lately?” Yushin asked.

“He left home. Stopped talking to people. And he’s been ice-cold to me.”

Yushin mulled over his thoughts before carefully speaking.

“This is just a theory, but…”

Ihan gestured lazily with his fingers, telling him to continue.

That bastard.

Yushin swallowed his irritation. There was no point in picking a fight when he would be the only one losing.

Who could possibly win against Yoo Ihan?

It wasn’t just about strength.

The man had money, looks, and power. In front of Yoo Ihan, everyone was an equal underdog.

Yushin stole a glance at him.

Even lounging on the couch, Ihan looked like a magazine cover.

He was the kind of man who made everyone turn their heads.

His half-lidded eyes held an almost languid sensuality.

His features were perfectly proportioned—not a single flaw in sight.

And with his nearly 190 cm frame, paired with a strong, sculpted physique…

People might curse his personality, but no one could deny his looks.

And on top of all that—he was an S-class Esper.

Which meant he was incredibly valuable.

And as expected of someone with such status, that crazy bastard was also filthy rich.

Yushin mentally cursed the unfairness of the world.

But even Yoo Ihan had one flaw.

His personality.

And unfortunately, it was such a colossal flaw that it completely outweighed all of his redeeming qualities.

‘It was a damn miracle that Han Yeoul managed to tame him.’

Please, don’t set this psycho loose into the world.

Yushin—and every other Esper—prayed for their safety.

For the sake of everyone’s well-being, they needed to figure out why Han Yeoul was acting this way.

Yushin hesitated for a moment before carefully voicing his theory.

“What if he’s terminally ill?”

Ihan’s head snapped up.

His eyes wavered.

“…What?”

“I mean, think about it. When someone starts acting completely different, people say it means they’re about to die. What if he’s got a deadline and is pushing you away on purpose? He even moved into a tiny one-room apartment. Maybe he’s sorting out his affairs.”

Any other day, Ihan would have flipped the table and scoffed, “Our Yeoul? Dying? Don’t be ridiculous.”

But this time—

He remained silent.

Because even he had to admit—it made sense.

And, shockingly, Yushin’s guess was half right.

Han Yeoul was terminal.

The only mistake in his theory?

It wasn’t because of an illness.

It was a deadline Yeoul had chosen himself.

---

When no Esper was assigned to him despite the long wait, Yeoul stepped out of the Guiding Room.

‘Might as well grab a quick lunch.’

He didn’t have much of an appetite, so he planned to settle for a latte.

After ordering a hot latte from the café inside the center, he stood waiting—when he spotted the Center Director approaching from a distance.

Thinking this was a good chance to request an Esper assignment, Yeoul stood up and called out.

“Director.”

The moment their eyes met—

The Director immediately turned around and ran.

…What?

Why was he running away so desperately?

Yeoul stood there, bewildered.

Just then, the café staff called out that his drink was ready.

Tilting his head in confusion, he turned to pick up his coffee.

And just as he took his first sip—

A voice suddenly spoke from behind him.

“Yeoul.”

“—Cough!—”

A hand landed on his shoulder, making him flinch so hard that he choked on his drink.

Yeoul coughed violently, struggling to catch his breath.

Ihan’s face immediately turned pale.

“Yeoul, are you sick?!”

“Wh—Cough! What—Cough—No, it’s because—Cough! You suddenly—Cough—spoke—!”

His coughing fit wouldn’t stop.

Ihan, watching him struggle for air, didn’t hesitate—

He lifted Yeoul into his arms.

Before Yeoul could even process what was happening—they teleported.

Straight to the medical bay.

That wasn’t even Ihan’s primary ability, yet he moved at incredible speed.

Yeoul, despite the situation, found himself impressed.

“Ugh—Put me down.”

Now that his coughing had stopped, Yeoul grumbled, clearing his throat as he struggled in Ihan’s hold.

Ihan, handling him like a fragile glass sculpture, gently set him down.

And then—

“…Why are you crying?”

Tears dripped down from Ihan’s eyes.

Big, glistening pearls of sorrow.

He looked so beautiful while crying that Yeoul’s heart both fluttered and sank.

Ihan wept, as if the world was ending.

“Yeoul… are you… really sick?”

‘What the hell is he talking about now?’

Yeoul, momentarily speechless from sheer confusion, opened and closed his mouth soundlessly before finally managing—

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll hunt down every single healing Esper in the world.”

“There’s an S-class healer in the U.S.—if we bring them here, they might be able to cure you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Yeoul… the reason you’ve changed… it’s because you’re sick, isn’t it?”

“You’re terminal, so you’re pushing me away.”

“…What?”

A disease?

Yeoul was so baffled that he let out a breathless laugh.

“Hah.”

“Yeoul, even if there’s no cure, I won’t let you die alone.”

“I’ll climb into your coffin with you.”

“…Are you seriously talking about burial sacrifice right now?”

“If you’re gone, what reason do I have to live?”

“…….”

This.

This was exactly why Yeoul had to make Ihan hate him.

If he died, Ihan wouldn’t cling to life.

If Yeoul left no room for lingering attachment, only then would Ihan move on.

If he left behind a final wish telling Ihan to live—then, yes, Ihan would live.

Because he was kind.

Because he was gentle.

He would follow Yeoul’s last request.

But that would be all.

He would live—just barely.

And he would spend the rest of his life in misery.

Yeoul wanted Ihan to be happy.

He wanted him to move on and live his own life.

And to make that happen—he had to make Ihan let go.

“It’s not that.”

“Don’t lie! It is, isn’t it?!”

“Haa…”

Yeoul’s head throbbed at Ihan’s stubborn expression.

‘He’s not going to give up on this.’

Ihan always gave in to Yeoul on most things—but when it came to Yeoul’s well-being, he was unyielding.

Now that he had this misconception, he wouldn’t stop until he got solid proof that Yeoul was perfectly fine.

“Let’s do a full medical check-up. There has to be a way.”

“…Fine. I’ll get tested. Then you’ll see that nothing’s wrong with me.”

“Yeah! Thank you, Yeoul. Thank you for listening to me!”

Ihan’s tear-filled eyes curved up into a radiant smile.

Too bright.

Too beautiful.

Yeoul, feeling his heart twist painfully, forced himself to look away.

That day, he had to undergo every possible test before he was finally allowed to leave.

‘I have to make him hate me.’
Clearly, just saying “Let’s break up” wasn’t enough.

He needed a better way to push Ihan away.

And then—

He decided to use other people.

“Would you like to receive Guiding from me?”

Yeoul knew exactly why no Esper had come to him.

Because of Ihan.

That bastard, with his wide social circle, must have personally warned the Espers not to ask for Guiding from Yeoul.

If that was the case, then Yeoul just needed to be more proactive.

Normally, a dedicated Guide didn’t have to Guide other Espers.

But Yeoul, in order to reject Ihan, voluntarily reinstated himself for a 7-day-per-week Guiding duty.

The mistake Yeoul made—

Was thinking Yoo Ihan had friends.

There was no such thing as an equal in Ihan’s world.

He hadn’t asked them for a favor—he had threatened them.

And the damage caused by that?

It wasn’t something as minor as “a little problem.”

It was a disaster.

With a wave of his hand, an Esper was lifted into the air.

Compressed air crushed around his body, squeezing him.

Feeling like he was about to burst, the Esper struggled, gasping for breath.

Ihan’s cold, deadened eyes locked onto him.

Tilting his head slightly, he tightened the pressure.

“Yeoul spoke to you, didn’t he?”

“I—I ran away without saying a word!”

“That’s not the point.

The point is that Yeoul spoke to you.

Who the fuck gave you the right to let that happen?”

The Esper, on the verge of tears, barely had time to register what was happening before Ihan flung him through the air.

His body slammed into the wall, leaving him crumpled on the floor.

‘This fucking lunatic. How is it my fault that Han Yeoul talked to me?!’

As Yeoul actively started seeking out Espers for Guiding, Ihan completely lost it.

He couldn’t possibly be mad at Yeoul.

So instead—

He took it out on the Espers.

Because Yeoul talked to them.

Because Yeoul approached them.

Because Yeoul made eye contact with them.

His reasons for raging became increasingly trivial.

So the Espers ran.

They avoided Han Yeoul like their lives depended on it.

Yeoul, unaware of why, started wondering—

‘Why haven’t I seen any Espers around lately?’

‘Are they just being sent on a lot of missions?’

Strange.

There had been no such reports when they planned work distribution.

On the fifth day since Yeoul started reaching out to Espers, someone unexpected arrived.

Not the Zone 1 Director.

But the Central Headquarters Director.

“Guide Han Yeoul,” the Director began, seated in a black leather sofa, his expression heavy.

“I didn’t want to say this, but—”

“Yes?”

Unlike most people who were summoned before the Director, Yeoul was completely unfazed.

That unshaken demeanor irked the Director, but persuasion came first.

“Do you know why, back when you weren’t Yoo Ihan’s exclusive Guide, you were only required to perform three Guiding sessions per week, instead of the usual seven?”

“Because I primarily Guided Yoo Ihan, didn’t I?”

“Considering our rank difference, I assumed it was so I could reserve most of my energy for Yoo Ihan’s sessions.”

At his calm and logical answer, the Director’s frown deepened.

Meeting Yeoul’s curious gaze, he firmly denied it.

“No. That wasn’t the reason.”